Superstition can’t kill you. Can it?
Amateur sleuth Rosemary Lillywhite should know better than to dismiss superstitions. When her eccentric new neighbor invites her in for tea, Rosemary meets a nervous tax assessor clutching lucky charms and worrying about ominous threatening letters. That evening at the theater, a young actor’s leg snaps during what should have been a harmless pratfall. And before the weekend is over, someone in the neighborhood will be found crushed beneath a fallen Victorian gargoyle.
The police call it a tragic accident—just crumbling architecture and terrible timing. But Rosemary’s investigator instincts say otherwise. Strange details at the scene don’t add up to mere misfortune, and those anonymous letters suggest someone had murder on their mind.
As Rosemary digs deeper, she discovers a neighborhood full of secrets. With her pregnant best friend Vera insisting she’s seeing conspiracies where none exist, and her beau Max warning her away from another investigation, Rosemary must decide: can she trust her instincts that a killer walks free in Marylebone?
Or will her meddling make her the next “accident”?
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