Page 50 of Killer on the First Page
Penny replied, “Why does anyone kill anyone? As purveyors of death, you know very well that there are only four basic motives for murder: love, fear, greed, and insanity.”
With her contempt for cozies clear, Inez said, “Maybe in your world, but you missed one: anger. And its cousins: vengeance, justice.”
“I would argue that unbridled anger is a form of madness,” said Penny. “Thus, it falls under the category of insanity. Any psychologist will tell you that a hunger for vengeance can become an obsessive disorder.”
“Not buying it,” said Ray. “Too general. By that logic, one could argue thatanymurder is a manifestation of insanity.”
“Perhaps it is,” said Penny.
“And what of justice? Or retribution?” Inez shot back. “Is a demand for justice a form of madness, too?”
“That’s not what she said. You’re putting words in her mouth.” Ray frowned his disapproval at Inez.
“Such a gentleman,” said Inez. “Stepping in to defend the queen. Tell me, wheredoyou get your ideas from, Ray?”
This caught Miranda’s attention. She remembered the flinty-eyed man at the Q&A who’d asked the same question of Mr. Valentine, and how flustered Mr. Valentine had become.
“Who would want to kill Kane, anyway?” said Inez. “Abel aside.”
“Ask Fairfax,” said Ray. “Once they catch him, we’ll know. Doesn’t take a genius to work it out. Kane is dead, and Fairfax is missing.”
Inez turned her attention to Wanda Stobol. “Now, if it had been you who was murdered, we would have no shortage of suspects. Who wouldn’t want to kill you?”
Ray continued, “Even the murder weapon points to Fairfax.”
“Ha!” It was Wanda, deliberately ignoring the Maven of Malice.“If I put that in one of my kids books, my editor would say, ‘Li’l too convenient, don’tcha think?’ Not that anyone dies in Compendium Cathy. But a writer whose hero rides into battle with a crossbow in each hand? Killing someone with a crossbow? Was he trying to get caught?”
“Maybe he was...” said Penny. Something was on her mind, Miranda could tell.
“What are you thinking?” Miranda asked.
“Oh, it’s—it’s probably nothing.”
Before Miranda could follow up, Lachlan Todd piped in. “It could’ve been an imposter.”
They groaned. “Come on, Lachlan. It was Fairfax, not a body double. We’ve known him for years.”
Lachlan was not dissuaded, however. “Does anyone know if Fairfax had a twin—preferably evil?”
“Hack,” Wanda mumbled under her alcohol-soaked breath.
This was the single greatest insult one could hurl at an author, and Lachlan was instantly upset. “A hack? Me? You write books for children.”
“Better than novels writtenbychildren,” Wanda snorted.
“Take that back!” said Lachlan. “Take that back or I’ll... I’ll...”
“What? Kill me? Gonna lure me into a locked room, are ya, Lachlan? Murder me with poison, a single drop of arsenic running down a thread as I’m sleeping on my back with my mouth conveniently open, or maybe an anvil suspended by a rope lit by a candle?”
“Enough,” said Ray.
Edgar agreed. “I’ve had all I can take of this,” he said. “I’m going upstairs to pat my dog.”
Miranda caught him before he could go, pulling him aside. “Edgar, do you remember that episode ofPastor Fran Investigates, ‘The Case of the Purloined Painter,’ I think it was called?”
Edgar tilted his head. He could almost see where she was going with this.
“The one where the killer’s footprints went across fresh paint on the floor of a hospital,” she said, “and then disappeared into thin air.”
