Startled I looked into the face of the man I bumped into, pushing my glasses back on my nose.
"Sorry" we both mutter at the same time. Why was he here? i wondered, scanning him. As he bent down to help me gather my stuff, his jacket opened a bit, and I could see the metallic glint of a badge.
He looked at the spine of one of my books, then asked me a question.
'So, are you a fan of Sherlock Holmes?"
"Oh, yes. A fan off mystery in general." I replied.
The man looked thoughtful, then said “Speaking of mysteries, do you know Aubrey Smith?
I looked at the man, thinking before I answered “Well, I know who she is, though I don't know if she knows me. She's popular, well with some. I actuality feel bad for her, you should hear the things some people say.”
He was making me a bit nervous. “Why?” I asked
“Aubrey Smith is dead. Murdered.”