The Death of Edward Vale

Edward Vale was dead. The news broke early on Monday morning. The renowned best selling crime thriller novelist had been found dead in his study in his house in Miami by his literary agent and friend Jacob McKenzie after he hadn’t been replying to calls for several days.

Vale was best known for his long running Tobias Hale mystery series. 27 books, 2 unsuccessful film adaptations and a surprisingly well received Netflix remake. The series was known for it’s intricate plots and tightly written and shocking twists. The series had made Vale a millionaire many times over. It had given him fame, fortune, and a place among the greatest mystery writers of his generation. But there was one thing nobody knew.

Edward Vale hated Tobias Hale.

He’d hated him for years, because he could never escape his shadow. He’d tried to branch out. New stories, new characters, new genres, but everything came back to Tobias bloody Hale.

It had been three years since the last novel, and once again the fans were clamouring for more. So, Edward obliged with what he promised would be the final Tobias Hale novel, and he promised fans this would be one they would never forget.

The police arrived at the house shortly after the death had been reported. A few uniformed officers and Detective Elizabeth Simmons as lead investigator. Simmons had been with the MPD 12 years and moved to homicide last year. Save for a few drug dealers and one movie producer who OD’d in his own hot tub, this was her first big case.

The uniformed officers had already swept the house and found no evidence of breaking and entering, and no suicide note.

“Detective, look at this.” One of the officers called Simmons over to the dining table, where a thick manuscript sat beneath an evidence marker.

“Found it in a locked room behind the study,” he said. “The only thing in the room was a wooden table and this.” Simmons pulled on a pair of gloves before picking it up. The title page stared back at her.

The Death of Edward Vale: A Tobias Hale murder By Edward Vale She frowned. “That’s an curious title.” “It gets stranger.” replied the Officer.

Simmons turned the page, the opening paragraph was printed neatly in Edward Vale’s handwriting.

She read the first sentence. “Edward Vale was dead” She narrowed her eyes “The news broke early on Monday morning..” Simmons looked up from the page. “When was this written?”

Nobody answered. She continued reading. “The renowned bestselling crime thriller novelist had been found dead in his study in his house in Miami by his literary agent and friend Jacob McKenzie after he had failed to respond to calls for several days.”

“How long has he been dead?” Simmons slowly closed the manuscript. “Three days.”

She looked back at the first page. “Then how did he write this?”

Simmons looked at the cover again. The Death of Edward Vale: A Tobias Hale Murder. Something bothered her about the title “Have you read any of these before?” she asked. The officer shook his head. “Not really, my girlfriend watches the Netflix series. Not my kind of thing.”

Simmons walked over to the bookshelf and ran her finger over the spines of the other books

The Silent Witness: A Tobias Hale Murder Mystery, An Angel’s kiss: A Tobias Hale Murder Mystery, The Devil’s due: A Tobias Hale Murder Mystery.

She looked back at Edward Vale’s manuscript. “There’s something missing” she said. “What’s that?” “The mystery”

Accidental typo or ominous clue? Simmons pondered the missing words from the title as she forced down the brown sludge the local gas station was passing off as coffee. “Has anyone spoken to Mr McKenzie?” she asked one of the officers. “Not yet. We took a brief statement but he’s waiting in the sun room at the back of the house.” Simmons nodded “Has the coroner given a preliminary report yet?” The officer handed her a report “He has, but he’s not sure what to make of it.” Simmons read the report, her eyes dancing over the page “toxin found in the bloodstream and a knife wound in his lower back? ”cause of death: inconclusive.

Simmons read the report a fourth time, still somewhat baffled by the content, it made no sense. She put the report down and made her way through the house to the sun room where Jacob McKenzie was waiting accompanied by two uniformed officers. As she entered, he stood up “Mr McKenzie?” “Yes, Jacob” “Detective Simmons, MPD homicide.” They both sat down “Can you tell me please, in your own words, what happened leading up to when you found the body?”

Jacob took deep breath. “He’d stopped replying to my messages, he was never a good communicator but this was different, this was total radio silence. We’d argued a few days earlier, I wasn’t happy with the draft of his new book and he was refusing to change it, in as many words and using some colourful language he told me this was the final edit, and I could like it or lump it.” “and did you?” “I didn’t have a choice. I’m his editor, but I’m not a writer, I’m here to facilitate his vision. Despite my misgivings, I signed off on the final draft but he stopped talking to me. When I hadn’t heard from him over the weekend I decide to call in to make amends, we’ve been friends for nearly 35 years, and I’ve worked with him on every book” his voice began to crack “and then, i just found him in his study, dead.”

Simmons watched him carefully. “What was your issue with the draft?” Jacob sighed. “It was too on the nose.” “Meaning?” “He wrote himself into the story. Edward Vale, the great crime writer, making himself the final victim? It felt cheap and tacky.” Simmons glanced down at her notes. “Did you notice anything unusual about the way you found him?” Jacob frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean.” “ Aed nything that stood out.” He looked away. “Detective, I had just found my oldest friend dead. I wasn’t examining the room. I wasn’t looking for clues.” Simmons leaned forward. “The thing is, Mr McKenzie, Edward Vale died exactly as he described in the novel.” Jacob went still.

“The poison. The knife wound. The position of the body.” She paused. “You and Edward were the only two people who knew those details, correct?” Jacob shifted in his chair. “Not exactly.” Simmons raised an eyebrow. “Explain.” He swallowed. “I leaked it.” “You what?” “Online on Reddit.” Simmons stared at him. “Why?” “Because I was angry. I leaked it. I thought people would hate it, rip it, and Edward to shreds and then he’d rethink the whole thing” “but?” “But they didn’t. They loved it.” Simmons sent Jacob away, with a warning not to leave town as she’d be in touch with further questions in the coming days.

Later that evening, after Simmons returned home she decided to check out the Reddit thread Jacob had been talking about. She found it on /r/CrimeNovels, posted four days ago by a now deleted user “Edward Vale new novel leaks??” inside the thread were multiple photos taken of pages of the manuscript.

u/LocalHistoryNerd

If this is genuine, it’s the boldest thing he’s ever written.

u/LockedRoomLover

Writing yourself into your own murder mystery is peak Edward Vale.

u/InkAndBlood

This has to be fake. There’s no way he’d kill Tobias like this.

u/MurderByMonday

Imagine if somebody actually killed him like this.

Simmons stopped scrolling.

The comment had been posted forty-eight hours before Edward died.

The Reddit thread had nearly thirty thousand views and had attracted even more attention after Edward’s death. Thousands of people had read the leaked pages, discussed theories, and picked apart every detail. Which meant one thing; the comments were useless. Edward’s address wasn’t private, he was well known for inviting fans to his house for book readings. Anyone who read or commented in that thread could be a potential suspect.

She clicked onto the manuscript and began to read

“The coroner had determined the death was suicide, caused by ingesting poison in his whiskey.”

Simmons stopped scrolling. Something was different here. She pulled up her report to the photos of the manuscript, and began to read

“The coroner’s report was inconclusive, there was poison in his blood, but also a knife wound in his back and signs of a struggle in his study.”

Same chapter. Same page. Same paragraph. Different outcomes. One indicated a possible suicide, the second version was murder.

The next morning, Simmons called Jacob down to the station. Jacob arrived, rather disgruntled at being called in while he had so much work to do.

Simmons sat in the interrogation room with a coffee and the two manuscripts on the table in front of her. “Have a seat Mr McKenzie” she said, indicating to the chair opposite her. Jacob sat down " Do you mind explaining while you’ve called me here Detective, I have rather a lot to do sorting out Edward’s funeral and his estate.” Simmons said nothing, but simply turned the two manuscripts round to face him “You lied to me Mr McKenzie” she said, opening the scripts to the same page, indicating the underlined section. “The manuscript you uploaded to the internet is different than the version we found in the locked room in Hale’s study. The online version doesn’t mention a knife wound, the printed version does.”

Jacob looked at the two books in front of him “I must’ve uploaded an older version of the manuscript” he shrugged, I uploaded a version Edward sent me. Simmons shook her head “The Reddit thread was posted on Thursday, you found Edward’s body on Monday. You were the only person who had access to edit the document, and the only person who could have replaced the page before the police arrived.”

The room was quiet for a moment. Jacob looked down at the two manuscripts sitting between them and finally, he spoke. “All I did was make the ending better.” Simmons said nothing. Jacob looked up. “More deserving of Tobias.” he paused. “And of Edward.”