Originally published at MURDER IS EVERYWHERE on Substack June 11, 2026
26 years ago yesterday, with much assistance, I brought my daughter Julia into the world. 9 days ago today, with much assistance, I brought my sixth book An Artful Dodge into the world.
Let’s just say, we are all grateful that the gestation periods were not the same. From first idea to publication, An Artful Dodge took over four years.
Aside from that, and the fact that both “baby” and “book” are four-letter words beginning with B, there are remarkable similarities between bringing a baby and a book into the world. They both take nurturing and time and patience; it takes a village of people offering advice and support and guidance. The last month before birthday and pub day can feel exhausting and exhilarating and nerve-wracking. Perhaps to different degrees, but still.
The lovely thing about this book, An Artful Dodge, is that my baby, when she was 21, was present for the moment this book idea appeared.
Julia had been doing a semester abroad at Oxford in fall 2021. You may remember, this was during a lull in the Covid pandemic. I rented a tiny flat in Notting Hill on VRBO, went over for a fortnight after she’d finished, and we bopped around London doing Mom/Daughter things. We both love long walks, museums, tea and scones the size of our heads, shopping, and discovering the unexpected. (This is Julia, in one of my favorite cafes, inside the Victoria and Albert museum.)
The December days were gray and umbrella-worthy and the nights were blustery and cold. One evening, we ducked into the Great Scotland Yard Hotel in Whitehall. It’s not far from Big Ben, and it’s built on the cobblestone yard that in the 1870s smelled of horse dung and served as the “back entrance” to 4 Whitehall Place, the official address of the plainclothes division—what we now call Scotland Yard, in shorthand. (This photograph of the hotel was taken in WAY nicer weather than we had.)
The Victorian-themed hotel was built in 2019 by LuLu Group International (an Abu Dhabi-based hospitality and investment group) and is run by Hyatt. When we entered, to my delight, in the foyer were glass cases filled with Victorian crime memorabilia! Mug shots, poison bottles, police helmets, truncheons, police whistles and rattles, judge’s wigs, and more! (Be still my nerdy little heart.)
After browsing this, Julia and I went to the formal restaurant to see if we could have dinner. They regretfully informed us they were “full up,” but we could go across the way to the bar called The Forty Elephants. We could get a drink and a bite to eat.
On our way across the hall—pausing to admire some very unique furniture, including this rhino-shaped chair—I puzzled over the bar’s name. With the hotel being Victorian-themed, I assumed it had something to do with India or Africa, those being the geographical homes of real, gray-skinned, floppy-eared elephants. Britain was expanding its empire into both India and Africa during the 1800s. So I was half-expecting hunting memorabilia on the walls, or perhaps Imperial art. But no. Instead, there was a portrait of a beautiful woman above the fireplace.
A QR code stuck to the table promised “More Information about the Forty Elephants.” Of course I clicked. I’m like Pavlov’s dog with those things.
The Forty Elephants refers to an all-women thieving gang operating out of the seedy neighborhood of Elephant and Castle in Southwark (pronounced “South-ehk”) south of the Thames. From the early 1700s, a famous stagecoach inn was situated at the hub of six major roads coming in from Dover, Canterbury, and various parts of London.
The Elephant and Castle Inn was known for thieving, drugging (giving wine and laudanum to travelers, so they fell asleep by the fire and could be robbed), and dragging (the practice of clambering onto the back of a stagecoach, then cutting the ropes to pull luggage off the top) as the stagecoach rolled down the road.
When I finished reading about Elephant and Castle and the women thieves, I looked up.
Julia is smiling at me. “You’re thinking this is a book, aren’t you?”