A Line to Kill

‘Well, of course that’s part of it, and you being a barrister, I can imagine that’s important to you. But that’s not my job. I mean, I’m not protecting anyone because when I’m called in, the one person I might have protected is already dead. As for the law, I leave all that to the judges and the lawyers. I don’t like going to court, if I’m going to be honest with you. All these people arguing all day. And ten years in jail, twenty years … what difference does it make? My job’s done.’

I was still waiting to join in but at the same time I was fascinated. I had never heard Hawthorne talk so much – certainly not about himself. And it was true what he had just said. When you think about it, just about every murder mystery you read ends with the arrest. You never see the detective giving evidence. And once the killers have been drawn into the legal process, they become quite uninteresting. They disappear.

‘But you are making the world a safer place,’ Matheson insisted.

‘Is that true?’ Hawthorne blinked. ‘As I’ve already said, by the time I arrive, the murder’s been committed. Nobody’s been saved. And more often than not, the killer’s got what he wanted. He’s inherited the money. He’s got rid of his wife. It’s very unlikely he’s going to kill anyone else.’

‘So the work you do … it’s just part of a process.’

‘You could say that. You can’t have law without law enforcement. That’s what I do.’

‘But you’re good at it.’

Hawthorne nodded. ‘I think so …’

‘Have you met many murderers?’

‘Yes.’

‘And …?’ Matheson waited with a half-smile, wanting more. But there was no more so he moved on. ‘Are all murderers caught?’

‘All the ones I’ve met have been.’

This got a ripple of laughter from the audience.

‘What gives them away?’

‘It could be anything.’ Matheson still wanted more and this time Hawthorne obliged. ‘There’s so much pressure and the stakes are so high that it’s hard to stay in control. There’ll always be a little detail – it could just be a tic – that gives you away. It’s like you’re playing poker and you’ve been dealt a royal flush. Ace, king, queen, jack, ten. It could be worth a million quid. But you’ve got to be a real pro to know how to keep it to yourself and most killers aren’t.’

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Charles le Mesurier nod at that. He was the CEO of Spin-the-wheel, the online gaming company that had sponsored the festival, so it was an analogy he appreciated. His friend or business partner was leaning forward, listening intently. He didn’t seem to be enjoying the talk.

I hadn’t spoken a word for what seemed like a very long time now but Matheson hadn’t finished with Hawthorne. ‘Does it worry you, appearing in a series of books?’ he asked.

‘Not really.’

‘It was your idea.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Why did you want to do it?’

Hawthorne shrugged. ‘I needed the money.’

There was more laughter. If this was a dry run for Edinburgh and Hay, it was clear that Hawthorne was going to be fine. He didn’t need me at all.

‘And was Anthony your first choice of writer?’

‘Let’s just say he was the first one who was available.’

I smiled gamely. The audience applauded.

Finally, Matheson turned to me. ‘So what was it that persuaded you to write Hawthorne Investigates?’ he asked.

I had sat in silence for so long that for a moment I didn’t even know what he was talking about. Then I remembered. ‘Actually, that’s not the title. The book’s going to be called The Word is Murder.’

‘Oh.’ With that single syllable Matheson let me know that he preferred Hawthorne’s title.

‘I wrote it because I thought it would be interesting,’ I said.

My answer clearly wasn’t interesting enough. Matheson turned back to Hawthorne. ‘I presume you’ve read the book,’ he asked.

‘No. Not yet. Tony hasn’t shown it to me.’

‘Are you nervous about how you may appear? Especially as you’ve put yourself into the hands of a writer known for fiction.’

Hawthorne shook his head. ‘It doesn’t really bother me. It’s only a book.’

‘Two books,’ I said.

‘People can think what they want. I know the truth.’

‘Finally, Anthony, a question for you. What’s it been like, writing about Mr Hawthorne?’

I had to think for a moment before I answered that. ‘Well, it was different—’ I began.

That was only the start of what I was going to say but Matheson assumed that I had finished and cut straight in. ‘You’ve kindly agreed to read a few pages for us,’ he said.

‘Yes …’ I had brought the typescript on my iPad and flicked it open.

It had taken me a while to choose a section from the book. Obviously, the audience would want to hear a scene in which Hawthorne actually appeared, but I didn’t want to read out anything that might sound critical of him, certainly not when he was sitting right next to me. Nor did I want to give too much away. I’d finally settled on an extract from Chapter Four: Hawthorne looking over the crime scene. I had to cut a couple of personal observations but otherwise he appeared in a good light and there was a scattering of applause when I finished.