By this fall, these mysterious sculptures had become a hot story. Reporters checked the newest teacup and cupcake, then the little fellow hiding in a forest for some sign of authorship, and once again found a connection to mystery writer Ian Rankin. The hiding man was nestled in a book Rankin had publicly admired. Mr. Rankin came to the festival, checked out the new sculpture. Here he is, trying to look innocent. The thing is: he probably is innocent.