“Whereas, with Penny dead . . .” Helen interjected.

“The deal is even sweeter. She can probably screw more money on the notoriety basis, plus she’s got the added bonus of increased sales on the books that are currently out there. When I saw her, she said that she’d be crazy to kill Penny for a short-term gain when Penny alive would write more books. But if there’s TV in the pipeline, that means she’d get long-term benefit anyway, because all the books would be reissued as TV tie-ins. And Catriona Polson’s a really big woman. She’d have no trouble grabbing Penny and stabbing her in the neck.” Lindsay finished her beer in a single swallow, suddenly feeling dry-mouthed. “Same again?”

When she returned with fresh drinks, Helen was looking sheepish. “Spit it out,” Lindsay sighed.

“You just made out a great case against the agent. It’s a good motive. And it’s just about credible that the agent would use the murder method in the book as a kind of poetic justice, almost to make herself feel like it wasn’t real, just something in a book. Only you can’t tell the police about it, can you?”

“I’m not with you. Why not?”

Helen swallowed a gulp of beer and said, “You told me Meredith is Penny’s residuary legatee, yeah? Well, if it plays as a motive for the agent, it works as an even better motive for Meredith. About ten times better, in fact. You need something more solid before you pass this info on to the bizzies.”

Lindsay closed her eyes and cursed silently. Helen was absolutely right. If Catriona had told Penny about the talks, the chances are that Meredith would know it was a possibility. Even if she hadn’t, if Helen had heard it on the grapevine it was entirely possible that Meredith had too, Lindsay thought, remembering with a lurch that Meredith’s best friend from college worked in Los Angeles, writing machine code to produce computerized special effects for Hollywood. And there would be plenty of special effects in any films of the Darkliners novels. It would be almost impossible for Meredith to establish her ignorance. Proving a negative was always the hardest thing in any investigation, Lindsay knew from her long journalistic experience. “I can’t think about this any more today,” she said. “I need to sleep on it. Maybe when I wake up tomorrow, my subconscious will have had the chance to work out where I go for proof.”

“You’re probably right,” Helen said. “And I know just how to help you put it right out of your mind.”

Warning bells rang like a smoke alarm in Lindsay’s head. “Oh, yeah?” she said warily.

“Yeah. You can advise me on my little problem.”

Lindsay groaned and raised her hands as if to fend off a blow. “I already gave you the only advice I know. Dig the dirt, then dish it.”

“Can’t you do the digging for me?” Helen asked plaintively. “I don’t have your experience. I’m just a simple TV producer. I don’t even know where to start.”