“Bad guys win.”
“They often do in reality,” Mira agreed. “Reading a series like Hightower, or like Dark, there’s a comfort. Terrible things happen, and they happen often to good people, to the innocent. But evil is overcome and punished by good. Balance is restored. At some point, this wasn’t enough. If those who do evil win, why not write about that, why not show that? And eventually, why not be that?”
“You agree she’s living in the books, as she’s writing them.”
“Her improved version of them, yes, exactly. The version where she, as creator and as the dark protagonist, has the power. The longer she does, the harder it will be for her to come back to reality, the shorter the time she’ll be able to hold that reality. If, as you believe and I agree, she’s already selected the third victim from Dark Deeds, she is living as the character of the killer in the book. Whatever job she might have, whatever other tasks she needs to perform, they’re becoming the illusion. Eventually the illusion she creates will become too strong, and far too appealing. Without medication and treatment, reality will cease to exist.”
“You’re saying she’s not legally sane, but she plans, she edits, she’s choosing to kill, to become the killer.”
“I don’t want to diagnose without examining her, but it’s the killer choosing. A part of her writes—whether literally or in her head. The writing is so consuming—the betrayal by DeLano, as she sees it, so abhorrent—she becomes the character, but her more finely crafted version. One who punishes, who seeks to harm, seeks to win by any means. Who, in her version, defeats Dark, thereby vanquishes DeLano.”
“And right now, she’s some jealous, vengeful … skank, plotting to kill the woman she feels is ruining the man she wants, the man she needs. She has to troll the clubs,” Eve continued. “She has to spend some time living the life to inhabit that character.”
“She’ll kill again.”
“She’ll sure try. If she gets in deep enough, wouldn’t she get stuck? Wouldn’t she stick inside the same character?”
“It’s a series, and Dark is her adversary each time. She follows Dark. I think she needs the books, the stories, the continuation, and, oddly, the thrill of becoming someone else, someone new.”
Mira set her teacup aside, rose. “This is a clever woman, one who thinks everything through, step-by-step, but that thinking is limited to the story she lives in. I think a large part of her life has been lived that way, and the world outside’s thin and inconvenient to her. She’ll do whatever she needs to do to stay inside the story where she’s strong and triumphant, and out of the world where she fades into the ordinary.”
“She’ll like my world, where she ends up in a high-security facility for violent mental defectives, even less.”
As Mira went out, Peabody came in. “The DeLanos are here.”
“On my way.”
“I got one of the other … potentials. She bitched and moaned, but she’s coming in.”
“Keep at it,” Eve told her, and made her way to Interview A.
The DeLanos sat beside each other at the interview table, and both looked over at Eve as she came in with nearly identical expressions of anxiety.
“Has someone else been killed?” Blaine asked.
“No.”
“Thank God. Detective Peabody said no, but …”
“We worked ourselves up,” Audrey admitted. “Convinced ourselves you wanted to tell us in person.”
“I appreciate you coming in. I did want to talk to you in person, but about some specific correspondence.” Eve sat with the file she’d brought in. “A. E. Strongbow.”
This time she got nearly identical blank looks.
“Neither of you recognize the name?”
Blaine shook her head. “Sorry.”
“Maybe this’ll help.”
Eve pulled out the first letter, watched it click for Audrey almost immediately.
“I do remember. Of course. He sent a manuscript—after a couple of letters, he sent a manuscript. We have a post office box, as some people like to write letters rather than e-mails. He sent his book. Not merely a disc copy or download, which is more usual, but an actual physical copy of the manuscript. It happens, rarely, and when it does I send them back unopened with a letter explaining Blaine can’t read it. And I try to offer a lot of encouragement, maybe some advice on how to find an agent or publisher.”
Audrey nudged the letter away. “I remember this because when he wrote after Sudden Dark came out, he was furious, and accused Blaine of plagiarizing his manuscript.”
“Oh, for—” Blaine stopped, held up a hand. “Wait, I remember that, you told me about that. I didn’t remember the name.”