“Go ahead, dear,” Indira said.
“You killed Robert Kessler,” I said.I waited for the interruption; nothing came.“Ten years ago.At Snitches and Stitches.And you got away with it.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Graeme said.“Simona killed him.”
“No,” I said.“She didn’t.She was with Margaux that night.She must have genuinely loved Margaux.That’s why Simona didn’t testify in her own defense.That’s why she didn’t give an alibi.She didn’t want to ruin Margaux’s life.And, I think, part of her hoped that Margaux would save her.”
Margaux, pale to the point of looking bloodless, wavered in her seat.
“You killed Robert,” I said, “because he stole Simona away from you.Simona was going to be your breakout author.She was going to take Doorstopper mainstream.Or that’s what you hoped, anyway.But you weren’t the only one who thought Simona was special.Robert recognized her talent, and he wanted her for his own imprint.He convinced her to break her contract with you, and then he offered her the kind of money no author would walk away from.And that left you with nothing.”
Graeme stood with shoulders hunched.Sweat glistened through his thinning blond hair, and behind his glasses, his eyes were so small that they were colorless.
“You’ve been clever about how you’ve handled your…problems over the years,” I said.“That night, you went to Robert’s room, and he let you in.He might have suspected you’d be upset about Simona—but at the same time, you were also a colleague.You were a publisher.It would have been easy enough to tell him that you had something to discuss with him, something that concerned you both, and he would have let you in.Did you mean to kill him?”
“I didn’t kill anybody.”
“Yes, you did.But I don’t think you intended to—not that first time.You must have been angry, but I’m guessing you thought you could talk to him.Convince him to release Simona from her contract and send her back to you.That’s not how things work, though, is it?Simona was thrilled about this new deal.Whitney told us that Simona thought of Robert as her savior.She wasn’t going back to Doorstopper no matter what you and Robert decided.But Robert didn’t want to let her go, did he?In fact, I’m guessing he didn’t show much sympathy for your situation.And you tried and you tried and you tried, and you got angrier and angrier, until you were angry enough to grab the first thing that came to hand and hit him.And that was all it took: one blow, and he was dead.”
Graeme wet his lips.It was a small, lizard-like sound, and it carried through the silence in the ballroom.
“After that, you knew you were in trouble.You didn’t have a plan.You hadn’t meant for this to happen.You ran.It was your bad luck that Vivienne was attending the conference.Of course she got involved.And you must have been terrified—I mean, this wastheVivienne Carver, the brilliant sleuth who always caught the killer.But she didn’t, did she?”
“She did,” Graeme said, the words breathless.He wiped his hands on his trousers.“She caught Simona.”
I shook my head.“Ten years went by, and everyone forgot about Robert Kessler and Simona Wolf.You must have thought you were in the clear.And then Vivienne Carver contacted you, announcing she was out of prison and interested in attending Northern Noir.You were in a bind—you didn’t want her to come back, because God only knew what she wanted or what might happen.But if you said no, that might make her suspicious.So, you had to make those last-minute arrangements for her.”
“Vivienne Carver was one of the most famous novelists in the world,” Graeme said in that same weak voice.“Of course we wanted her to attend—”
“When she contacted you,” I asked, “did she tell you she knew what you’d done?”
Graeme stared back at me.
“She must have said something,” I said, “because you realized you had to get rid of her before she could prove you were the one who killed Robert.That’s why you lured her down to the grotto, and you killed her the same way you killed Robert: you hit her on the head.But you didn’t expect Steven to know that Vivienne had been wrong about Simona.What did he do?Come to you?Ask if you remembered anything about Robert’s murder?Did you suggest a walk along the creek so you could speak privately?”
In the silence that followed, the only sound was the distant rush of the HVAC system.
“This is insane,” Graeme said.He ran his tongue over his lips again.“You’re as bad as she was—as bad as Vivienne.”
The woman with the WITCH tote bag booed.
“The sheriffarrestedsomeone,” Graeme said.“I didn’t want to say this, but the sheriff arrested Whitney Smith this morning for Vivienne’s murder.”
Murmurs ran through the audience.
“Whitney didn’t kill Vivienne Carver,” I said.“And she didn’t kill Robert Kessler.”
“The sheriff—”
“I know,” I said.(It felt weirdly empowering to be the interrupt-er, instead of the interrupt-ee.) “And I know why the sheriff thinks Whitney might have done it.I know you made that anonymous call and told the sheriff that Whitney had left those one-star reviews.But Whitney didn’t kill anybody.You did.”
Graeme shook his head.He adjusted his glasses as he turned from side to side, as though asking the audience to consider how unreasonable I was being.“But you don’t have any evidence.You have—you have this story.You can’t prove I was ever in Robert’s room.Yes, Simona backed out of her deal.And yes, Doorstopper went out of business.But I wouldn’tkillsomeone over it.”
“You would,” I said.“And you did.”
“You can’t prove it.”Graeme’s voice grew shrill.“You can’t prove I did any of it, that I went anywhere near Steven or Vivienne.Even if I’d wanted to, I wouldn’t have time.I’ve beenbusy.Do you know how hard it is to run a conference?”He looked around again, wiping sweat from his forehead; hardened faces stared back at him.“You don’t have any proof!”
“I do, actually,” I said.“You made a mistake—well, in all fairness, it wasn’t actually a mistake so much as bad luck.You couldn’t have expected Vivienne to do what she did.And youdidtry to fix it, but by then, it was too late.”
