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“But why would a fan want to kill him?” There was a strained note to Theo’s voice that even she could hear.
“Some readers fixate on the writer, imagine a personal relationship of some sort. That person may have felt betrayed by Dan because he moved, or because of his friendship with you, or even because he wore a blue sweater and not a red one. It’s not rational.”
Theo felt cold as the implication of Veronica’s words settled. Dan was probably being watched, observed, stalked. All those times she was with him—at Benders, around Lawrence, and then at his house—someone may have been watching. Perhaps they were still watching. Instinctively, she glanced around the restaurant. It was about half full…businesspeople in suits, an older couple, and one or two people eating alone.
“Hey,” Veronica said gently, “you mustn’t let this get to you. Dan’s death may be something completely unrelated to his writing and his readers. Long ago he was fond of the track. Perhaps he went back to gambling. The police will find the bastard who did this soon and lock him up.”
Theo nodded. She asked Veronica about Dan’s funeral, his family…to whom she should send her condolences.
The agent sighed. “The body won’t be released for a while, but when that happens, Day Delos and Associates will arrange the funeral. I’ll make sure you’re informed in plenty of time to be there.”
“Day Delos and Associates is seeing to the funeral?”
“Dan was quite alone in the world. No family to speak of at all.”
Theo closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure why that idea made her want to weep. She was struck in hindsight by the loneliness of Dan Murdoch. If only she’d recognized it then, she might have been able to ease it somehow.
“What did Dan tell you about himself?” Veronica asked.
“Almost nothing,” Theo admitted, embarrassed. “We talked about writing mostly.”
“Perhaps he was telling you more than you appreciated at the time. What exactly did he tell you about his writing?”
“Oh, he didn’t say much about his manuscript… It was about ghosts, I think.” Theo smiled wistfully as she thought about the long conversations she and Dan would have about process and inspiration. She forgot Veronica was there for a few moments.
“Theo?” Veronica prompted, and Theo realized the pause had been marked. She offered a memory in apology.
“Dan was following conspiracy sites…for inspiration, or research, I guess. He had some mad notion that conspiracy theories were written by people who understood the structure of the novel.”
Veronica swallowed; her brow raised into an elegant arch. “He said that?”
“More or less.” Theo laughed. “He was particularly interested in something called the Frankenstein Project, which was run by a minotaur…or something like that anyway. It was absurd. But I expect he’s turned it into a brilliant manuscript.”
“So you’ve read his manuscript?” Veronica’s eyes narrowed.
“No,” Theo replied hastily. “I don’t know how close he was to finishing it…or if he would have shared it with me when he did finish.”
“I’m sure he would have,” Veronica said softly. She laughed. “Clearly, you were more important to him than Day Delos or its expectations.”
Theo wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t sure if she was being complimented or accused.
Veronica may have seen her confusion. “I’m glad,” she said. “Very glad that he had you. Technically, showing you the manuscript would have been in breach of his contract, but really, considering what’s happened, it’s immaterial. So please don’t think—”
“I wish he had shown it to me,” Theo said, “but he didn’t.” She regarded the agent, puzzled. “Don’t you have it?” she asked. “His manuscript, I mean. Wasn’t it among—?”
“The police haven’t been able to locate his laptop, and it seems Dan didn’t do anything remotely as sensible as backing up to Day Delos’s server or even the cloud.” Veronica sighed. “We’re his agents, Theo. The only thing we can do for Dan now is to protect his last work, make sure it ends up in the right hands, with publishers who’ll truly honor his memory and his talent.”
Theo nodded. She was not so naïve as to believe there was no financial motive in Day Delos’s interest in Dan’s manuscript, but she thought Veronica, at least, was sincere.
The agent moved the conversation gently to Theo’s writing, her ambitions, and where she wanted her work to go in terms of style and genre. Theo knew it was an attempt to take her mind off murder and tragedy, but she was glad of it, and relieved that her work, thinking of it, talking of it, was still able to take her away.
“Would you be open to commissioned writing?” Veronica asked. “Sometimes we come across opportunities for our clients to ghostwrite a book or write in response to a particular need in the market.”
“Oh.” Theo had never thought about writing anything but her own novels, but she didn’t want to come across as difficult or precious, and so she tried to sound enthusiastic. “Of course. I don’t know how to ghostwrite, but I’d be open to trying.”
Veronica nodded, pleased. “Excellent.”
They lingered over coffee in this way, and Theo was intrigued by the acuity of Veronica’s insight into structure and plot. Even her general suggestions were something of an epiphany. They talked about the technical craft of writing, as well as the mysterious art, and Theo felt safe and understood when she spoke of the solace and the ecstasy of sculpting life with words. Eventually, Veronica called for the check and they walked out of Story together.
