The beauty of it was the flaw. The perfect murder is not one that goes unseen, but one that is seen and instantly understood. A story so simple it leaves no room for questions.
Marco turned, his face not one of a frightened lover, but of a weary detective. “Put the gun down, Julian. The room is wired. Two federal agents are in the room next door.” A Perfect Murder
Julian’s perfect plan crumbled like wet sand. The motive wasn’t simple. It was a double helix of betrayal and counter-betrayal. He had been so busy constructing the frame for Elara and Marco that he had walked into a frame of his own. His desire for a story with no questions had blinded him to the most obvious question of all: what if his characters had their own script? The beauty of it was the flaw
Later, in the interrogation room, the detective asked him the only question that mattered. “Why didn’t you just divorce her?” Marco turned, his face not one of a