Eight Perfect Murders: A Novel
3.5/5
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About this ebook
New York Times bestseller
“Swanson rips us from one startling plot twist to the next… A true tour de force.” —Lisa Gardner
“[A] multilayered mystery that brims with duplicity, betrayal and revenge.” —USA Today
From the hugely talented author of The Kind Worth Killing comes a chilling tale of psychological suspense and an homage to the thriller genre tailor-made for fans: the story of a bookseller who finds himself at the center of an FBI investigation because a very clever killer has started using his list of fiction’s most ingenious murders.
Years ago, bookseller and mystery aficionado Malcolm Kershaw compiled a list of the genre’s most unsolvable murders, those that are almost impossible to crack—which he titled “Eight Perfect Murders”—chosen from among the best of the best including Agatha Christie’s A. B. C. Murders, Patricia Highsmith’s Strangers on a Train, Ira Levin’s Deathtrap, A. A. Milne's The Red House Mystery, Anthony Berkeley Cox's Malice Aforethought, James M. Cain's Double Indemnity, John D. MacDonald's The Drowner, and Donna Tartt's The Secret History.
But no one is more surprised than Mal, now the owner of the Old Devils Bookstore in Boston, when an FBI agent comes knocking on his door one snowy day in February. She’s looking for information about a series of unsolved murders that look eerily similar to the killings on Mal’s old list. And the FBI agent isn’t the only one interested in this bookseller who spends almost every night at home reading. The killer is out there, watching his every move—a diabolical threat who knows way too much about Mal’s personal history, especially the secrets he’s never told anyone, even his recently deceased wife.
To protect himself, Mal begins looking into possible suspects . . . and sees a killer in everyone around him. But Mal doesn’t count on the investigation leaving a trail of death in its wake. Suddenly, a series of shocking twists leaves more victims dead—and the noose around Mal’s neck grows so tight he might never escape.
Peter Swanson
Peter Swanson is the New York Times bestselling author of The Kind Worth Killing, winner of the New England Society Book Award and finalist for the CWA Ian Fleming Steel Dagger; Her Every Fear, an NPR book of the year; and Eight Perfect Murders, a New York Times bestseller, among others. His books have been translated into 30 languages. He lives on the North Shore of Massachusetts, where he is at work on his next novel.
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Reviews for Eight Perfect Murders
620 ratings70 reviews
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5I hate the MC.. but I love the storyline. Gonna looking for all the books that is mentioned there..
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5Not as good as The Kind Worth Killing. Not even close. The premise is a real gem but neither the plot nor the characters allow it to shine. It’s not really a who dun it because there were only a few characters. It’s not a thriller because there is no tension no pace no conflict no mystery in this story. Unless you are really a fan of the author, I suggest you spend your time somewhere else.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5This book left me feeling ill-used. It was ok. It held my interest, but mysteries with an unreliable narrator feel like the author is cheating. If the narrator can lie to you then really what hope do you have of solving the mystery, and even if you guess, the narrator can change the rules on you at will. I really can’t recommend this book.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Read this almost in a single sitting. It's riveting and the mystery grows from page to page. I'm not a person who guesses in whodunits but if you kind of person who is I wonder if you can figure it out. Mal is a likable protagonist and I loved the details of the books he's read- this is almost like a booklist in itself- and you want to go read all the books you haven't read or re-read the ones you have. All in all this is a very fun read. Highly recommended.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5A very interesting read, well written with a very good ending. I highly recommend it.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Loved it love this author 's work. Never disappoints bravp
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Very glad to hear a story like this, Malcolm Kershaw was all means of his book store and have a destiny of secret sin, but case of every secrets most show letter make him to confess by his self, Peter Swalson have a great story in his mind for this novel, i advise any one to look into de eighth perfect murders.thanks
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5It started with one blog post, written several years ago compiled of books that somehow pull off what he considers "the perfect murder" it has sense been mostly out of Malcom's mind since then; There was no way Malcom could predict what would one day come from this seemingly harmless literary opinion. Fast forward several years and there's FBI cornering him at his bookshop desperately needing his assistance because one agent on the case believes the string of recent murders are not only the work of one killer, but are based of that specific list Malcom compiled all those years ago, as each murder follows the plot of one book then another on down the list. It's a race to get ahead of the murderer and attempt to stop him before he strikes again. With no formal FBI training whatsoever can Malcom really use his knowledge of literature to stop a serial killer?
Eight Perfect Murders draws inspiration from eight novels, all of which are published in real life, and is a twisty well paced thriller. Perfect for die hard thriller genre fans, this one is sure to grip you from page one until long after the story has officially ended
This book does require a SPOILER ALERT for the information provided from the eight books on the list, so if there are any you want to read and haven't gotten to yet I urge you to do so before reading this book so you don't end up disappointed when the plot is revealed by this book. - Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5Recently I read Peter Swanson's book Nine Lives and I thought it was terrific. This led me to request another of his mysteries, Eight Perfect Murders.When I started reading this one I felt it had too many similarites to the book Nine Lives. It's defintely a different mystery, not a rehash, but some of the elements made me think about the previous book.We start with a bookshop owner named Malcolm and a vivid description of the harsh winter snow storm. A FBI agent calls Malcolm and asks to speak to him, arriving in the storm as he is about to close up the shop. She wants to chat with him about a blog post he'd made years ago called Eight Perfect Murders. Seems someone is taking that list to heart with bodies turning up murdered exactly as the blog post outlined. Is it a serial killer? Is it Malcolm?The plot had possibilities but I found it fairly boring. Not giving up on this author as Nine Lives was very good, IMO. If you've read any of Swanson's books which would you suggest? If you've read Nine Lives, did you think about some of the similarities between the plot and ending?
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I had high expectations picking this one up and this book absolutely did NOT disappoint!! I normally tend to be bored by long narrations in books, but with this one, that wasn't the case at all. I got hooked with every twist and turn, right until the ending that was just---*chef's kiss*. Such a recommended read!!!
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- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This book was such a good read - slowly and meticulously put together, and a reader’s dream. Not only is it a great story, it’s a fantastic mystery, an ode to books and bookstores and well-paced. Readers will like it, but mystery lovers will likely really dive into it. Not only is it a great book to begin with, it is also a really good almanac for mystery lovers for classic mysteries that are also great reads.“Mal” is a great narrator, and a well-developed character. Not a character you fall in love with, but definitely a character who you become really involved with. His story, especially his time with his wife, makes your heart go out to him. The oddball characters around him keep the suspicions going - but the only reason I give it a 4 stars versus the five is that given the dearth of characters, it ends up being sort of easy to guess who could end up being the “antagonist” - the man who keeps killing people in manners reflecting plots of books on a list that Mal has published as a blog. This narrative will be a roller coaster, for sure, and Mal’s doubts make the ride even bumpier than usual, but ultimately, it’s a great mystery novel, and there’s a satisfying end for readers, to a well written novel, for sure!!!
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5This book was so good!! Plot twist after plot twist!!!!
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Really liked the book until the ending. I work in a bookstore so enjoyed that aspect of the book a lot. Thought the energy fizzled out and the end was anti climatic.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5“Books are time travel…they can take you back to different versions of yourself.”This started off well and had an interesting twist but it tended to drag and be repetitive. The references to the other books within the plot gave a lot of spoilers but that is to be expected. The characters lacked depth and interest so I wasn’t particularly invested in the protagonist being good or bad, alive or dead. I think I preferred the cat the most!Personal irk, I hate it when authors constantly repeat surnames of only some of the characters. Most of us readers are not morons with short attention spans and it shows an annoying lack of consistency.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Eight Perfect Murders:Synopsis: A bookstore owner wrote a promotional blog called "Eight Perfect Murders." Now, there is someone killing people by the blog and the bookstore owner must work with law enforcement to find his connection to the murderer. My Rating: 4/5I ended up with some mixed feelings about this book. I read it for a book club but it is also exactly the sort of book I would pick up for my own reading pleasure.I listened to it on audio and really loved the beginning of the book. The last quarter of the book I started not being so sure how I felt about it.I love books about literature and reading a book that happens in a bookstore and references so many other books was enjoyable.This book has spoilers for the mysteries listed in the fictional blog as well as a few other mysteries such as the Murder of Roger Ackroyd. The level of spoilers presented per book varies somewhat but if you are sensitive to spoilers you may want to skip this book. I didn't mind the spoilers and look forward to reading all the books mentioned.The book is told in first person through the perspective of the shop owner. There were some interesting side characters but none of them were as developed as I would have liked. The people who work at the book store were interesting and we got little snippets into who they were but I wanted to know them better. Malcolm, the shop owner, is the only developed character and he is not a likable character. There is a shop cat which Malcolm cares about and his relationship with the cat was one of his few redeeming qualities. The mystery itself was interesting but I didn't necessarily like the way it ended. Our book club felt there was some ambiguity and interpretation to the ending. I agree. If we take Malcolm's words as they are written then I thought the ending was stupid and I was annoyed with it. If Malcolm is the Dr. Shepherd who posted on the blog and is actually embodying that character then the ending is more interesting. This book had many times where I struggled to suspend my disbelief as much as was needed to fully believe the tale Malcolm was telling. I had a good time reading this book but I could have liked the ending much better. If you like mysteries and books that reference other books this read could be for you.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Really enjoyed the book! The twists and turns will keep you on the edge! Anyone who loves a good mystery, this is a great read!
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I enjoyed this book for what it was, a simple thriller. I like the bookstore / "perfect murder" tie in. I really didn't believe the main character had anything to do with the murders...until he made the comment about wondering if the FBI agent noticed he wasn't really eating, etc. I was like, oh, he was involved, which he was. I didn't think he had killed his wife though, so that came as a surprise. I really thought there would be another twist in the end, maybe the FBI agent (the original one) wasn't who she said she was or something. Overall, it was good. I listened to it pretty quick and enjoyed the ride, but also nothing earth shattering to make it a 5-star read.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5This is a tough book to review. I would actually give it 3 1/2 stars. The premise of the story is fantastic. A killer takes a blog post (from the owner of a mystery bookstore) titled 8 perfect murders, from mystery books of the last 120 years, and re-enacts them, slowly pointing the evidence towards the writer of the blog post.
Sadly the main character who is the owner of the bookstore is...boring. Also the first half of the book is slow and dry, similar to many of the books referenced throughout the book. None of the characters seem to have any depth to them, and some of the situations they are put in seems totally unbelievable.
Still it is wildly interesting idea. I just wish the book flowed better. - Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5When a booksellers old list of books that he thought were the best perfect crimes starts happening in real life the FBI is now questioning him.
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- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Peter Swanson has done it again, this is interesting and just when I thought I figured it out a twist. Its not a high exciting book but intriguing enough that I rated as a 5 star book as well as it is now one of my favorites.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5I liked the premise and how this felt like a cozy mystery but was not-- well, it at least presented a lovely twist. I'm looking forward to reading more from Swanson.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Great job author, I really like your writing style. I suggest you join NovelStar’s writing competition right now until the end of May with a theme Werewolf. You can also publish your stories there. just email our editors [email protected], [email protected], or [email protected].
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Malcolm Kershaw, the part-owner of Boston's Old Devils Bookstore, is a bookseller who specializes in mysteries. Years ago, he even wrote a blog . . . “Eight Perfect Murders” . . . for the bookstore, choosing some of the genre’s best examples that, in his opinion, presented the reader with particularly difficult-to-solve murder mysteries.Mal hasn’t thought about that list for years, but the arrival of FBI Special Agent Gwen Mulvey pulls him into an investigation that suggests someone is committing murder by following his list. And it isn’t long before Mal realizes the killer is watching him.Can Mal identify the killer and solve the mystery surrounding the “Eight Perfect Murders” or is he destined to become one of the victims?This love letter to the mystery/thriller genre, guaranteed to keep readers guessing, offers unexpected revelations that change everything and take the story in a decidedly different direction. Believable characters, a truly spellbinding premise, and a cast of intriguing characters all work together to keep the pages turning in this unputdownable tribute to mystery writers and some of the classic tales of the genre. The unfolding narrative is sure to astound readers with its stunning surprises, but this puzzle-filled thriller is sure to please devotees of the genre.Highly recommended.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Eight Perfect Murders by Peter Swanson provides an excellent list of mysteries to read. Swanson includes a brief description of the plot and characters. Swanson also delves into various movies recreating the mystery. Strangers on a Train ranks on the top of the list, and of course the Alfred Hitchcock presentation shines. I have never read the book but will read this novel and Double Indemnity. Double Indemnity, the movie starring Barbara Stanwyck and Fred MacMurray, shocked many viewers. Let us return to Eight Perfect Murders and the fated list of Malcolm Kershaw. Malcolm had listed his favorite mysteries on a blog, but now a serial killer has started using Malcolm’s list to commit murders. An FBI agent contacts Malcolm in hopes that the killer can be stopped. Peter Swanson a well written novel and a valuable resource for readers of mysteries.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5A clever, twisty, satisfying murder mystery. It pays homage to classic mysteries and is probably a spoiler for most of the titular eight (though that probably won’t keep me from reading the ones I haven’t yet). I didn’t figure it out, though I should probably have re-read Agatha Christie to have picked up on more of the clues.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A bookish mystery full of references to classic noir novels. I was completely engrossed by the story, but even more than that, I loved all of the backlist books it referenced. I kept adding notes about other murder mysteries to check out. A bookstore owner is surprised when the FBI contacts him about a pattern in some local killings. Our unreliable narrator gives us answers slowly, which makes it all the more enthralling.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5There must be a sub genre of mysteries with a writer or book collector as narrator. This was well done and I felt I was listening to a true story. The winter scenes were amusing as I am in Florida. Although there were quite a few characters keeping track wasn’t a challenge. I was reminded of Otto Penzler’s mysterious book store. Of course o don’t think of him as capable of violence.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I quite enjoyed this mystery. It felt very tailored towards me because I love mysteries and have read nearly every Agatha Christie book (and she was definitely featured). I guessed part of the mystery but there are indeed a lot of twists so it's difficult to predict all of them. It was a bit less suspenseful than I would have hoped and I never really felt like I had clear picture of the protagonist. I was just sort of indifferent to him. Strong points: it does reference some of my favorite mysteries and is cleverly plotted.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Wow! What a story. Malcolm Kershaw made a list of books in which he considered the perfect murders occurred. Now that list is coming back to haunt him. I don't want to say much about this so I don't give anything away. This book grabbed me from the start and did not let go. The ending was wild and is Mal a reliable narrator or not?
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I have read, and enjoyed, several whodunnits recently that have strayed into the area of metafiction, with ‘amateur’ sleuths helping the official investigations of a recent murder, allowing them to be guided by reference to classic examples on detective fiction. Examples include Richard Osman’s the Thursday Murder Club and Elly Griffith’s The Postscript Murders. This latest book from Peter Swanson is another admirable addition to this group, and moves the genre across the Atlantic.Malcom Kershaw runs a bookshop in Boston that specialises in crime books and has established such a strong reputation that aficionados will come to visit from all over New England. Several years ago, at the instigation of the shop’s owner, he wrote a blog post in which he listed eight crime novels that, to his mind, included the perfect crimes. He had almost forgotten about that blog until he is contacted by an FBI agent who is investigating several apparently unrelated murders in and around Massachusetts. She is convinced that closer inspection of the available evidence suggests that they are indeed related, and that a serial killer is working his way through Malcolm’s old list.Swanson writes with a very clear prose, and I found myself racing effortlessly through this novel, without requiring any conscious effort to suspend disbelief. Malcolm is an essentially sympathetic character, and we gradually learn that he has had to overcome considerable adversity. I was also very intrigued by the books cited in his list of perfect murders. I have read a couple of them already, and broadly agree with his assessment (within the parameters that the crimes in each case were eventually uncovered, and justice delivered, if belatedly), and shall eagerly seek out the others.
Book preview
Eight Perfect Murders - Peter Swanson
Chapter 1
The front door opened, and I heard the stamp of the FBI agent’s feet on the doormat. It had just begun to snow, and the air that rushed into the store was heavy and brimming with energy. The door shut behind the agent. She must have been just outside when she’d called because it had only been about five minutes since I’d agreed to meet with her.
Except for me, the store was empty. I don’t know exactly why I’d opened it that day. A storm was forecast to drop over two feet of snow, beginning in the morning and continuing through until the following afternoon. Boston Public Schools had already announced they were closing early, and they’d canceled all classes for the following day. I’d called the two employees who were scheduled to come in—Emily for the morning shift and early afternoon, and Brandon for the afternoon and evening—and told them both to stay home. I logged on to the Old Devils Bookstore Twitter account and was about to send out a tweet saying that we were closed for the duration of the storm, but something stopped me. Maybe it was the thought of spending all day in my apartment alone. And besides, I lived less than half a mile from the store.
I decided to go in; at the very least I’d be able to spend some time with Nero, straighten up some shelves, maybe even pack up some online orders.
A sky the color of granite was threatening snow as I unlocked the front doors on Bury Street in Beacon Hill. Old Devils Bookstore is not in a high-traffic area, but we’re a specialty bookstore—mystery books, used and new—and most of our customers seek us out or simply order directly from our website. On a typical Thursday in February I wouldn’t be surprised if the total number of customers barely reached double digits, unless of course we had an event planned. Still, there was always work to do. And there was Nero, the store cat, who hated spending the day alone. Also, I couldn’t remember if I’d fed him extra food the night before. It turned out I probably hadn’t because when I stepped through the front door, he came racing along the hardwood floor to greet me. He was a ginger cat of indeterminate age, perfect for the store because of his willingness (his eagerness, really) to put up with the affections of strangers. I turned on the store lights, fed Nero, then brewed myself a pot of coffee. At eleven, Margaret Lumm, a regular, entered.
What are you doing open?
she asked.
What are you doing out?
She held up two grocery bags from an upscale grocery store on Charles Street. Provisions,
she said, in her patrician voice.
We talked about the latest Louise Penny novel. She talked, mostly. I pretended I’d read it. These days I pretend I’ve read many books. I do read the reviews from the major trade publications, of course, and I go to a few blogs. One of them is called The Armchair Spoiler and it includes reviews of recent titles that discuss endings. I no longer have the stomach for contemporary mystery novels—sometimes I reread a particular favorite from my childhood—and I find the book blogs indispensable. I suppose I could be honest, tell people that I’ve lost interest in mystery novels, that I primarily read history these days, poetry before I go to bed, but I prefer to lie. The few people I’ve told the truth to always want to know why I’ve given up reading crime, and it’s not something I can talk about.
I sent Margaret Lumm away with a used copy of Ruth Rendell’s Shake Hands Forever that she was 90 percent sure she’d never read. Then I ate the lunch I’d packed—a chicken salad sandwich—and was just about thinking of calling it a day when the phone rang.
Old Devils Bookstore,
I answered.
Is Malcolm Kershaw available?
A woman’s voice.
Speaking,
I said.
Oh, good. This is Special Agent Gwen Mulvey of the FBI. I’d love a little bit of your time to ask you a few questions.
Okay,
I said.
Is now good?
Sure,
I said, thinking she wanted to talk on the phone, but instead she told me she’d be right over and disconnected the line. I stood for a moment, phone in hand, imagining what an FBI agent named Gwen would look like. Her voice on the phone had been raspy, so I imagined her to be nearing retirement, an imposing, humorless woman in a tan raincoat.
A few minutes later Agent Mulvey pushed through the door, looking very different from how I’d imagined her. She was in her thirties, if that, and wearing jeans that were tucked into forest green boots, plus a puffy winter jacket and a white knit hat with a pom-pom on it. She stomped her boots on the welcome mat, removed her hat, and came across to the checkout counter. I came around to meet her, and she reached out a hand. She had a firm handshake, but her hand was clammy.
Agent Mulvey?
I asked.
Yes, hi.
Snowflakes were melting on her green coat, leaving behind dark spots. She briefly shook her head—the ends of her thin, blond hair were wet. I’m surprised you’re still open,
she said.
I’m just about to close up, actually.
Oh,
she said. She had a leather bag slung over one shoulder and she lifted the strap over her head, then unzipped her jacket. You have some time, though?
I do. And I’m curious. Should we talk back in my office?
She turned back and glanced at the front door. The tendons in her neck popped out against her white skin. Will you be able to hear if a customer comes in?
she said.
I don’t think that’ll happen, but, yes, I’ll be able to hear. It’s this way.
My office was more of a nook at the back of the store. I got Agent Mulvey a chair and went around the desk and sat in my leather recliner, its stuffing bulging out from the seams. I positioned myself so that I could see her between two stacks of books. I’m sorry,
I said. I forgot to ask you if you wanted anything? There’s still some coffee in the pot.
No, I’m fine,
she said, removing her jacket and putting her leather bag, more of a briefcase, really, on the floor by her side. She wore a black crewneck sweater under the coat. Now that I could really see her, I realized it wasn’t just her skin that was pale. It was all of her: the color of her hair; her lips; her eyelids, almost translucent; even her glasses with their thin wire rims almost disappeared into her face. It was hard to know exactly what she looked like, almost like some artist had rubbed a thumb across her features to blur them. Before we start, I’d like to ask you to please not discuss anything we are about to talk about with anyone. Some of it is public record but some of it is not.
Now I’m really curious,
I said, aware that my heart rate had accelerated. And, yes, absolutely, I won’t tell anyone.
Great, thank you,
she said, and she seemed to settle in her chair, her shoulders dropping, her head squaring with mine.
Have you heard about Robin Callahan?
she asked.
Robin Callahan was a local news anchor who, a year and a half ago, had been found shot in her home in Concord, about twenty-five miles northwest of Boston. It had been the leading local news story since it had happened, and despite a suspicious ex-husband, no arrests had been made. About the murder?
I said. Of course.
And what about Jay Bradshaw?
I thought for a moment, then shook my head. I don’t think so.
He lived in Dennis on the Cape. In August he was found beaten to death in his garage.
No,
I said.
You sure?
I’m sure.
Then what about Ethan Byrd?
That name rings a bell.
He was a college student from UMass Lowell who went missing over a year ago.
Okay, right.
I did remember this case, although I couldn’t remember any of the details.
He was found buried in a state park in Ashland, where he was from, about three weeks after he’d gone missing.
Yeah, of course. It was big news. Are those three murders connected?
She leaned forward on her wooden chair, reached a hand down to her bag, then brought it back suddenly, as though she’d changed her mind about something. We didn’t think so, at first, except that they’re all unsolved. But someone noticed their names.
She paused, as though giving me a chance to interrupt her. Then she said, Robin Callahan. Jay Bradshaw. Ethan Byrd.
I thought for a moment. I feel like I’m failing a test,
I said.
You can take your time,
she said. Or I can just tell you.
Are their names related to birds?
I said.
She nodded. Right. A Robin, a Jay, and then the last name of Byrd. It’s kind of a stretch, I realize, but . . . without going into too much detail, after each murder the local police station closest to the crime received . . . what appeared to be a message from the killer.
So they are connected?
It seems that way, yes. But they might be connected in another way, as well. Do the murders remind you of anything? I’m asking you because you are someone who is an expert on detective fiction.
I looked at the ceiling of my office for a moment, then said, I mean, it sounds like something fictional, like something from a serial killer novel, or something from an Agatha Christie.
She sat up a little straighter. Any particular Agatha Christie novel?
"The one that’s jumping to my mind is A Pocket Full of Rye for some reason. Did that have birds?"
I don’t know. But that’s not the one I was thinking of.
"I guess it’s similar to The A.B.C. Murders as well," I said.
Agent Mulvey smiled, like she’d just won a prize. Right. That’s the one I’m thinking of.
Because nothing connects the victims except for their names.
Exactly. And not just that, but the deliveries to the police station. In the book Poirot gets letters from the killer signed A. B. C.
You’ve read it, then?
When I was fourteen, definitely. I read almost all of Agatha Christie’s books, so I probably read that one, too.
It’s one of her best,
I said, after a brief pause. I’d never forgotten that particular Christie plot line. There are a series of murders and what connects them are the victims’ names. First, someone with the initials A. A. is killed in a town that begins with the letter A, then someone with the initials B. B. is killed in a B town. You get the idea. It turns out that the perpetrator really only wanted to kill one of the victims, but he made it look like a series of crimes done by a deranged serial killer.
You think so?
the agent said.
I do. One of her best plots, for sure.
I’m planning on reading it again, but I did just Wikipedia it to remind myself of the story. There was a fourth murder in the book, as well.
I think so, yes,
I said. Someone with a D name was the last person killed. And it turned out that the killer was making it look like a madman was doing it when all along he just wanted to kill one person. So the other murders are basically cover.
That’s what the plot summary on Wikipedia said. In the book it was the person with the double C name who was the intended victim all along.
Okay,
I said. I was starting to wonder why she had come to me. Was it just because I owned a mystery bookstore? Did she need a copy of the book? But if that were the case, then why did she ask for me, specifically, on the phone? If she just wanted someone who worked in a mystery bookstore, then she could have come inside and talked with anyone.
Can you tell me anything else about the book?
she asked, then added, after a moment, You’re the expert.
Am I?
I said. Not really, but what is it you want to know?
I don’t know. Anything. I was hoping you’d tell me.
"Well, besides the fact that a strange man comes into the store every day and buys a new copy of The A.B.C. Murders, I don’t know what else to tell you. Her eyes raised for a moment before she realized I’d made a joke, or an attempt at one, then she smiled a little in acknowledgment. I asked her,
You think these murders are related to the book?"
"I do, she said.
It’s too fantastical for it not to be."
Is it that you think someone’s copying the books in order to get away with a murder? That someone wanted to murder Robin Callahan, for example, but then murdered the other people to make it look like a serial killer obsessed with birds?
Maybe,
Agent Mulvey said, and she rubbed a finger along the edge of her nose, up near her left eye. Even her small hands were pale, the fingernails unpainted. She was quiet again. It was a strange interview, full of pauses. She was hoping I’d fill in the silence, I guess. I decided to not say anything.
Eventually, she said, You must be wondering why I came to talk with you.
I am,
I said.
Before I tell you I’d like to ask you about one other recent case.
Okay.
You probably haven’t heard of it. A man named Bill Manso. He was found near the train tracks in Norwalk, Connecticut, back in the spring. He was a regular commuter on a particular train, and initially it looked as though he’d jumped, but now it looks as though he was killed elsewhere and brought to the tracks.
No,
I said, shaking my head. I didn’t hear about it.
Does it remind you of anything?
"Does what remind me of anything?"
The nature of his death.
No,
I said, but that wasn’t entirely true. It did remind me of something, but I couldn’t remember exactly what it was. I don’t think so,
I added.
She waited again, and I said, Do you want to tell me why you’re questioning me?
She unzipped her leather bag and removed a single sheet of paper. Do you remember a list you wrote for this store’s blog, back in 2004? A list called ‘Eight Perfect Murders’?
Chapter 2
I’d worked in bookstores ever since graduating from college in 1999. First briefly at a Borders in downtown Boston, then as both an assistant manager and a senior manager at one of the few remaining independents in Harvard Square. Amazon had just won its war for total domination and most of the indies were folding up like flimsy tents in a hurricane. But the Redline Bookstore was sticking it out, partly due to an older clientele not yet savvy enough to figure out online shopping, but mostly because its owner, Mort Abrams, outright owned the two-story brick building the store was housed in and didn’t have to pay rent. I was at Redline five years, two as an assistant manager, then three as senior manager and part-time book buyer. My specialty was fiction, and in particular, crime fiction.
During my time at the store I also met my future wife, Claire Mallory, who was hired as a bookseller shortly after she’d dropped out of Boston University. We got married the same year that Mort Abrams lost his wife of thirty-five years to breast cancer. Mort and Sharon, who lived two streets over from the bookstore, had become close friends, substitute parents really, and Sharon’s death was hard, especially since it robbed Mort of any remaining zest for life. A year after her death he told me that he was shutting down the store, unless, of course, I wanted to buy him out, take it over myself. I considered it, but at that point Claire had already left Redline, going to work at the local cable access station, and I didn’t necessarily want to take on the hours, or the financial risk, of running my own store. I contacted Old Devils, a mystery bookstore in Boston, and John Haley, the owner at the time, created a job for me. I would be the events manager, but also create content for the store’s burgeoning blog, a site for mystery lovers. My last day at Redline was the store’s last day in business, as well. Mort and I locked the front doors together, then I followed him back to his office, where we drank from a dusty bottle of single malt that had been given to him by Robert Parker. I remember thinking that Mort, without his wife, and now without the store, wouldn’t make it through the winter. I was wrong. He lived through the winter and spring, but he did manage to die the following summer at his lake house at Winnipesaukee, a week before Claire and I were planning to visit.
Eight Perfect Murders
was the first piece I wrote for the Old Devils blog. John Haley, my new boss, had asked me to write a list of my favorite mystery novels, but instead I pitched the idea of writing a list of perfect murders in crime fiction. I don’t exactly know why I was reluctant to share my favorite books yet, but I remember thinking that writing about perfect murders might generate more traffic. This was right around the time that several blogs were taking off, making their authors rich and famous. I remember someone doing a blog about making one of Julia Child’s recipes every day that was turned into a book, and maybe even a movie. I think I must have had some delusions of grandeur that my blog platform might turn me into a public and trusted aficionado of crime fiction. Claire added fuel to the fire by telling me repeatedly that she thought this blog could really blow up, that I’d find my calling—a literary critic of crime fiction. The truth was that I’d already found my calling, at least I thought I had, and I was a bookseller, content with the hundreds of minute interactions that make up a bookseller’s daily life. And what I loved most of all was to read—that was my true calling.
Despite this, I somehow began to see my Perfect Murders
piece—not yet written—as more important than it really was. I’d be setting the tone for the blog, announcing myself to the world. I wanted it to be flawless, not just the writing, but the list itself. The books should be a mix of the well known and the obscure. The golden age should be represented, but there should also be a contemporary novel. For days on end, I sweated it out, tinkering with the list, adding titles, subtracting titles, researching books I hadn’t yet read. I think the only reason I ever actually finished was because John started to grumble that I hadn’t published anything on the blog yet. It’s a blog,
he’d said. Just write a list of goddamn books and post it. You’re not getting graded.
The post went up, appropriately enough, on Halloween. Reading it now makes me cringe a little. It’s overwritten, even pretentious at times. I can practically taste the need for approval. This is what was eventually posted:
EIGHT PERFECT MURDERS
by Malcolm Kershaw
In the immortal words of Teddy Lewis in Body Heat, Lawrence Kasdan’s underrated neo-noir from 1981: Any time you try a decent crime, you got fifty ways you’re gonna fuck up. If you think of twenty-five of them, then you’re a genius . . . and you ain’t no genius.
True words, yet the history of crime fiction is littered with criminals, mostly dead or incarcerated, who all attempted the near impossible: the perfect crime. And many of them attempted the ultimate perfect crime, that being murder.
The following are my choices for the cleverest, the most ingenious, the most foolproof (if there is such a thing) murders in crime fiction history. These are not my favorite books in the genre, nor do I claim these are the best. They are simply the ones in which the murderer comes closest to realizing that platonic ideal of a perfect murder.
So here it is, a personal list of perfect murders.
I’ll warn you in advance that while I try to avoid major spoilers, I wasn’t one hundred percent successful. If you haven’t read one of these books, and want to go in cold, I suggest reading the book first, and my list second.
The Red House Mystery (1922) by A. A. Milne
Long before Alan Alexander Milne created his lasting legacy—Winnie-the-Pooh, in case you hadn’t heard—he wrote one perfect crime novel. It’s a country house mystery; a long-lost brother suddenly appears to ask Mark Ablett for money. A gun goes off in a locked room, and the brother is killed. Mark Ablett disappears. There is some preposterous trickery in this book—including characters in disguise, and a secret passage—but the basic fundamentals behind the murderer’s plan are extremely shrewd.
Malice Aforethought (1931) by Anthony Berkeley Cox
Famous for being the first inverted
crime novel (we know who the murderer and victim are on the very first page), this is essentially a case study in how to poison your wife and get away with it. It helps, of course, that the murderer is a country physician with access to lethal drugs. His insufferable wife is merely his first victim, because once you commit a perfect murder, the temptation is to try another one.
The A.B.C. Murders (1936) by Agatha Christie
Poirot is investigating a madman
who, it appears, is alphabetically obsessed, killing off Alice Ascher in Andover followed by Betty Barnard in Bexhill. Etcetera. This is the textbook example of hiding one specific premeditated murder among a host of others, hoping that the detectives will suspect the work of a lunatic.
Double Indemnity (1943) by James M. Cain
This is my favorite Cain, mostly because of the grim fatalistic ending. But the murder at the center of the book—an insurance agent plots with femme fatale Phyllis Nirdlinger to off her husband—is brilliantly executed. It’s a classic staged murder; the husband is killed in a car then placed on the train tracks to make it look as though he fell off the smoking car at the rear of the train. Walter Huff, her insurance agent lover, impersonates the husband on the train, ensuring that witnesses will attest to the murdered man’s presence.
Strangers on a Train (1950) by Patricia Highsmith
My pick for the most ingenious of them all. Two men, each with someone they want dead, plan to swap murders, ensuring that the other has an alibi at the time of the murder. Because there is zero connection between the two men—they briefly talk on a train—the murders become unsolvable. In theory, of course. And Highsmith, despite the brilliance of the plot, was more interested in the ideas of coercion and guilt, of one man exerting his will on the other. The finished novel is both fascinating and rotten to the core, like most of Highsmith’s oeuvre.
The Drowner (1963) by John D. MacDonald
MacDonald, my choice for underrated master of midcentury crime fiction, rarely dabbled in whodunits. He was far too interested in the criminal mind to keep his villains hidden until the end. The Drowner is an outlier, then, and a good one. The killer devises a way to drown his or her victims so that it looks exactly like an accident.
Deathtrap (1978) by Ira Levin
Not a novel, of course, but a play, although I highly recommend reading it, along with seeking out the excellent 1982 film. You’ll never look at Christopher Reeve in the same way again. It’s a brilliant, funny stage thriller that manages to be both the genuine article, and a satirical one,