Page 81 of The Chain House

“You’d have to ask him,” Nancy said. “But if you want my opinion, he’d already scooted past the trial unscathed, and murdering you all would have only brought about unwanted attention.”

“Makes sense,” Jennifer said.

“I never said he wasn’t smart.”

“Back to my original question,” Jennifer said. “Why did he specifically go after Beth Hawthorne that night?”

“Because Sal pulled him aside and told him to.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. We weren’t privy to everything said between those two.”

“Why did he send you all to the Hawthorne mansion that night?”

Nancy blinked her eye, held it shut like she was trying hard to remember, or maybe contemplating whether she should. And when she opened it her eye looked wet, like a tear might soon come from it. Maybe she recalled more from that night than she was letting on. “The news and writers and books … haven’t they all given that answer enough?”

“But I don’t believe it was as simple as an attack against the Haves by the Have-Nots.”

“It’s what Charles Manson tried to do with Helter Skelter.”

“Manson tried to start a race war.”

“And this would have been a class war.”

“And Manson was also deeply wounded by the fact he absolutely failed as a musician. Failed as a star. And Sal Batise has never shied away from how he’d emulated Manson.”

“Clever girl,” Nancy said. “I think you’re almost there. What does the world know now that was never known about Sal before today?”

“You’ve heard?”

“You’d be amazed how many ears these walls have,” Nancy said. “And do you think he just got a wild hair up his ass to start writing, as Mallard Malone, in prison? I’d imagine he’d been thinking of that series for decades.”

“Did you know he was Mallard Malone?” Jennifer asked.

“No.”

“Did Minks?”

“I assume so,” Nancy said. “But apparently the final book in the series … Book One … he wrote decades ago and never found a publisher. In that sense, he failed as a writer.”

Jennifer said, “Just like Manson was rejected by the music industry.”

“And why were the Hawthornes having a celebration that night at the family mansion?”

“It was to—oh my God,” Jennifer said, getting it now. “To celebrate the release of Justin Hawthorne’s debut novel.”

Nancy said, “The Craze, I believe it was called.”

“So it came down to.… jealousy?”

“The root of many crimes.”

“Did anyone know Sal Batise had written a book?” Jennifer asked.

“I suspect Minks at least knew of the book,” Nancy said. “Even back then, on the Freedom Ranch, he always had a book with him. Odd trait for such a cold-blooded killer like him” She paused, as if to reminisce. “One day, I remember, maybe a month before the ranch was raided, Minks had misplaced the copy of The Lord of the Flies he’d brought with him. He had those smaller paperbacks so he could slide them into his back pocket. But he must have left it somewhere. He turned that main house up and down looking for it, and then did the same with the Kitchen House. He was so irate, he insisted Sal call everyone from the barracks and question them one by one.”

Jennifer swallowed heavily, did her best to not show a reaction. She knew damn well where that copy of The Lord of the Flies was, and perhaps out of fear of Minks finding out—because these walls have ears—she restrained herself from telling Nancy Tanner that the book to which she was referring was sitting on the shelves of her childhood home, collecting dust.