Trust Me When I Lie

Home > Other > Trust Me When I Lie > Page 32
Trust Me When I Lie Page 32

by Benjamin Stevenson

Something distant. In the parking lot, Ted’s hand slipping from his. Falling. Liam. Air. Dust. Whump. Something there. Distant. Memory locked up too.

  It was guilt rising in him, he was sure, this unease. Lauren had given Jack the keys to help her, and he’d shoved them right back in her face. She’d been helping him the whole time, trying to point him in the right direction. Trying to help him catch Curtis, but so she’d never have to admit her part in it. It never occurred to him that she had an agenda of her own. Jack was her shield too. She’d never really believed in the copycat; that was why she got so upset whenever Jack had turned his thinking away from Curtis. Only when he was finally dead did she seem, at last, relieved. Jack should have known.

  That was the memory. Ted’s last words. To Jack. You know.

  Something wrong there. That unease in his gut. Because he hadn’t said it when Jack had shown up with the ax. No. He’d said it when he had turned. When he had seen…her.

  I’ve been digging too. You’re not the only one who can build a case.

  What if Ted wasn’t out there planting evidence? What if he was out there stealing it for himself? Because he was building a case, not against Curtis but against…

  Ask her about the night of the murder.

  Ted had told him that at the funeral. The night of the murder. The murder. Jack had assumed Ted had meant the night of Eliza’s death. What if he hadn’t?

  Watch out, the ax thief had yelled as the truck bore down. Why had Ted warned him?

  You know. His voice. Sadness. You know.

  “Ted knew,” Jack said.

  Lauren turned. Cocked an eyebrow.

  “What?”

  “He figured it out. I shouldn’t have been thinking who would gain the most by Curtis being in jail. It was who needed him there the most.”

  Because Lauren was okay while her brother was in prison. But then Vincent started getting sick, and Curtis was set for release, and she must have known he’d come for her again. So she’d left the shoe and hoped it would be enough to keep him inside. She wasn’t counting on Jack fucking it all up. “You pushed me for the police details,” Jack said slowly. “You asked me for the police side of the investigation. Questions about the copycat, if the police knew who they were yet.” Lauren, in the restaurant, I need to know everything behind the scenes. “Because you knew they hadn’t bought Curtis doing it, that they knew the second murder was a setup. Because you were worried they’d catch up with…you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “But Ted knew first. And he wanted to play the hero, we got that right. That’s what got him killed. His refusal to tell anyone, so he could have all the glory, saving up his big exposé. He took the ax that night. And you saw him do it. That’s why you were chasing him with the gun; you could have defended that with self-defense. It’s so easy to try the dead; you said it yourself. And you would have got him red-handed in the middle of ‘planting evidence.’ But he ruined your plan, because he took the ax, the one that you had ready in the shed for the police to find, except they hadn’t come yet. Because Winter didn’t want to cause a scene.” Lauren, sweeping tools off the bench in frustration. Because she knew what Ted had taken. “And then you knew you were fucked. Because Ted Piper had the evidence that you’d planted against Curtis. And you started to realize he was going to use it against you. The police were looking for a copycat instead of Curtis—you learned that from me—and you could see it falling apart. But you saw a second chance. Your initial plan to frame Curtis had fallen through, but now you knew who Hush was, didn’t you? You figured it out at the funeral. That’s why you insisted on coming. You didn’t know it was Ted yet, but you knew Hush would be there. You stood in the back. You had Alexis’s phone already, so you called him, and when his phone rang, you marked him in the crowd. Because, of course, Ted never turns his phone off.”

  Jack recalled a phone ringing at the funeral. The words were coming out of him faster than he could make the connections in his brain, but they were coming, and they kept coming.

  “How convenient that her sad ex-boyfriend was the person who was stockpiling evidence against you. Then it was a race against time—could you frame him before he had enough to pin it back on you? So you had your scapegoat. And you then started to try and bait me into that line of thinking too. Looking back, it was only after Ted took the ax that you decided the copycat was a plausible theory worth pursuing.” He remembered finding the phone—Curtis had wanted to call the police. So had he. Lauren was the only one who objected, talked them around. She’d even had Jack call the number: I’m your sister. The call logs would be just as incriminating. “Because at first, you were guiding me to all of the answers I needed about Curtis. But you needed me to be the one that pieced it together. Because if you accused Ted directly—well, he had the ax, didn’t he?”

  Memories of her, trying to get him to do what she wanted. Tear apart the shed if you need to. She wanted him to find the ax first. Sitting on his bed, handing him the old restaurant blueprints for a closer look. Do you think it’s some kind of message? she’d said when they were standing in the field, stamping her feet in a dull thud on the actual trapdoor. That there’s some meaning beneath the body being right here? Some meaning beneath, indeed. She wanted him to find the cellar. Curtis’s words: This is the work of someone who wants to get caught.

  “No wonder it sounded so ridiculous that Curtis thought everything was planted. Only the person right next to him could do that. You wanted another quick case. You hoped the cops would haul Curtis away and not ask too many questions. And in me you had a biased party, so desperate to find Curtis’s guilt. I was the perfect foil.”

  Same killer, she’d said when they first met. Because she needed someone to go down for her crime as well. But then Ted had interfered. He remembered Lauren begging her brother: This is literally your last chance. Just own up to something. His response: Alexis’s killer knows that it’s not sticking to me. They’re getting desperate. He’d been right.

  “But after the ax went missing, you knew that Curtis’s arrest wouldn’t be enough anymore, because as soon as Ted came forward, it would stick to you. You needed to cover your tracks first and get Curtis second. You changed your mind and I didn’t even notice. You planted the phone. You deleted everything in it except for the one path you wanted me to take. Steering me back on your course. Suddenly you believed in the copycat. Andrew Freeman—you hoped that might work because at least it tied the murders together. But he talks too much, and I…” A slow dawning. Should we shoot at him? “You asked me for the gun. I didn’t give it to you.” He wondered if Andrew might have accidentally met his end if he had. Lauren had known that Andrew wasn’t a perfect solution. She’d gone along with it, but what had she said? I think we still need to get the ax back… “Then I figured out the cellar. And you took your opportunity. In the pub, you insisted your brother was guilty for both murders. You hoped the drama of his death would again cover up that he wasn’t the second killer. And you were right; most of what Ted had would have stuck to a dead man. Most people would have believed it too. But then I figured it out. Too slowly, and in the wrong order, but I saw what you’d wanted me to see the whole time—your scapegoat, Ted. And suddenly you had the added advantage of silencing him properly.”

  “Ted attacked you in the parking lot.” A nervous smile.

  “He attacked me, yes. But only after he saw you. He must have thought I was your accomplice. He didn’t attack me before you showed up. Before that, he was actually asking for my help. He really was fighting for his life. And you swung that final blow. There’s no one to say otherwise now.”

  None of this had to happen.

  “Ted murdered Alexis,” Lauren said, “because he knew that sometimes there’s a bigger evil at play.” Framing a guilty man. The lies you can live with. “Maybe he thought that sometimes you have to stoop to their level to do the right thing.”<
br />
  “The right thing? Murder?”

  “Careful. I’m just guessing at Ted’s mindset, Jack.” Lauren spoke slowly, large breaths between every few words, tiptoeing through a minefield. Careful not to slip. “Alexis got a murderer out of jail, remember. He must have struggled to let her live with that.”

  “So she deserved to die?”

  “No, she didn’t, Jack. But maybe other people made that decision for him.”

  None of this had to happen. So that was how she computed it. As Jack’s fault. Her justification was that he’d forced her hand. Something else she’d said: When I heard she was dead, I thought it might be useful.

  “You can rationalize it by blaming me, but I didn’t make any choices for you.”

  “For me?”

  “Admit it, Lauren. This was exactly what I thought it was about. Revenge. Revenge on Curtis. Revenge on Alexis. There’s more than a sliver of him in you. There’s a fucking beating heart.”

  That seemed to hit her hard. Lauren breathed through her nose. Slow.

  “Tell me something,” Jack said. “Why kill her? You did it to right a wrong, but you’ve gone and done the same thing?”

  “Please stop accusing me, Jack. Ted killed her. You said it yourself—because she got Curtis out. Just like you, she knew everything but didn’t act.”

  There was the slip, under her words. She knew everything. Another statement: You’re only the second person I’ve ever told this to. Not Eliza, as Jack had assumed. Eliza hadn’t known anything—Curtis had said so himself in the cellar, Jack recalled now. Lauren had told Alexis everything—the real reason why she couldn’t testify—in order to keep herself off the stand. Jack imagined Lauren telling Alexis that she knew the truth, that she was the witness the prosecution needed, and the reasons she couldn’t come forward. Alexis knew that. But this was a huge case. Too good to pass up. So she’d gone and let Curtis out anyway.

  Jack tried to picture Lauren in the laneway. He saw her startling Alexis. Why did you let him out? I told you not to let him out. I told you what he did to me. Alexis telling her to calm down. Come in for a drink. We’ll talk. Bent over, starting to lift the garage door. Lauren, the ax heavy in her hand. Filled with hurt, hate, and revenge. It was revenge on both of them, Alexis and Curtis. I am not a victim anymore. She’d shot her brother twice. Twice. The second one in the head. Anger, there.

  “Put your recorder on the table,” she said.

  “Huh?”

  “Your podcast recorder. Put it on the table.”

  Jack took it from his pocket and placed it on the table. Busted. It was recording, the orange display glowing. He went to turn it off, but she shook her head. Leave it on. She hadn’t said anything incriminating yet. He’d done all the talking. She knew it. He knew it. The recording was useless.

  “Good theory,” she said, consciously raising her voice so the recorder would pick it up. “It’d make a good TV show.”

  But as she said it, she put two fingers to her lips. Two fingers. Shh.

  Then she slowly pushed both fingers between her lips. Bared her teeth around them.

  Animal.

  Nail-Biter.

  Reading Group Guide

  1. Why do you think people are fascinated by true crime? Is there a true-crime case, book, TV show, or documentary that has particularly piqued your interest? What about it pulled you in?

  2. Do you believe Jack, as a TV producer, has a responsibility to tell his audience the truth, or is he simply obligated to tell the best story? How does this question haunt Jack?

  3. How does Trust Me When I Lie relate to our relationship with media outlets today? Do you think they are toeing the same line as Jack?

  4. Do you think Jack’s docuseries is to blame for Alexis’s death? Why or why not?

  5. What are some of Jack’s vulnerabilities? What are his strengths? How do they influence his actions as he attempts to solve the Eliza and Alexis cases?

  6. Describe Birravale. What was the Wades’ relationship like with the town? Why do you think Curtis was the perfect scapegoat for Eliza’s murder? Do you think the town’s reaction to the Wades was fair? Explain.

  7. What do you think Lauren and Jack’s relationship is like? Why does Lauren help Jack during his investigation? Do you think she is ultimately remorseful for the part she plays?

  8. Describe Andrew Freeman. Do you think he should hold blame for his role in Eliza’s murder? Do you think he is ultimately a good guy?

  9. Many times throughout the story, Jack asks himself what lies he can live with. Describe what that means. Do you think there are actually lies you can live with, or is the truth always the best option?

  10. What do you think happens to Jack after the story ends? Do you think he pursues his career again, or is he forever burdened by Eliza Dacey’s murder?

  A Conversation with the Author

  What inspired you to write Trust Me When I Lie?

  Like millions of others around the world, I found myself engrossed in the plethora of true-crime television shows and podcasts. My friends and I would have lively debates on who we thought was innocent or guilty. But when you go down the rabbit hole, looking further online or for published books, to see the other side of the story—you never see two aligned halves. The story is told in parts, by the people who have an ulterior motive in choosing what they show you. That got under my skin, and then I started to think how these TV shows are now making their way into our justice system and affecting it real time (with appeals and arrests). So, I asked myself what all good storytellers do: What’s the worst that could happen? And that led to the question: What if one of these shows got a killer out of jail, and they knew about it… And that’s how Jack Quick was born.

  Did you have to do any research to bring Birravale and Jack Quick to life?

  Absolutely. I had to immerse myself in stories and the environment in order to make sure it felt genuine. I’ve traveled the breadth of Australia many times and have a good eye for a country town, or a small winery, so I had that fairly ready to go in my mind. A country pub with one bartender, bad food, and cold beer—I’m an expert. I also have a background as a stand-up comedian, so I have been on set for many television shows, which I brought into the novel. Where I did have to do extra research was on the background of wine-making, to make sure I got the essence of it correctly. Wine drinkers are keen-eyed and know their stuff, so I had to make sure it was truthful. And Jack’s illness took a lot of sensitive research and observation; it’s a delicate issue and one I wanted to do justice.

  Which character did you connect with the most? Which was the most difficult for you to write?

  I like Jack a lot, and I think there’s a lot I connected—he’s grumpy but with a sharp wit—so I have a soft spot for him. Spoiler: Lauren was probably the trickiest as she slinks through the novel in various forms. How to make her a casual teenager but also a calculated “mastermind” (she’d hate that word) was a tough balancing act!

  Why do you think Jack’s audience was fascinated by his Eliza Dacey docuseries? Are you a true-crime fan as well?

  I think we love looking into the dark side of humanity, and we’re all a bit scared that it could happen to us. But also, these shows are constructed, like any good narrative, out of unanswered questions. I think that’s why we’re all obsessed with these shows—because they promise a journey of discovery, they make us feel like we’re a part of these discoveries, and we get hooked on that. I’m absolutely a true-crime junkie—while writing this book, The Jinx and Making a Murderer were large influences on how I wanted Jack’s show to be, stylistically and the way it was received.

  Jack is an incredibly fascinating and layered character. How did you distinguish him from other detective protagonists we might already be familiar with?

  I didn’t deliberately distinguish him in any conscious way, but I knew I wasn’t writ
ing a police procedural, so my main character couldn’t be a cop. I wanted a regular guy who gets pulled into things. And I didn’t want him to be afflicted by something we’d seen before. (How many books are there about alcoholic detectives?) But I wanted the novel to be a suspenseful mystery, but also a character study for Jack. He’s a real guy who’s fighting a complex illness and laden with PTSD. So it wasn’t deliberate to distinguish him from other heroes, but I wanted him to be more real. He’s not an action man—in fact, he gets beat up a hell of a lot—so I suppose that was my conscious effort.

  What are some of your favorite authors and books?

  Peter Temple’s The Broken Shore is one of my favorite books of all time. Anything by Stephen King, On Writing in particular. Jane Harper’s The Dry is impeccable and let the world know that we Aussie writers aren’t half bad, so we all owe her big time! A few I enjoyed recently: Stuart Turton, Sally Rooney. I’ll cheat a bit and say anything by screenwriters Noah Hawley or Shane Black.

  When you’re not writing, what are you up to?

  I’m a stand-up comedian by night, so I travel the world doing shows. It’s surprisingly helpful when writing crime, as it’s all setup + punchline. I also like playing the piano (I’m not terribly good), films, camping, and guessing twist endings.

  Acknowledgments

  A novel is a product of many hands. It’s a lot like the jigsaw puzzle my mum pulls out over Christmas, where visitors flit past and insert pieces over the holiday season. I have many contributors to thank for the finished product.

  Thank you to my first Australian publisher, Kimberley Atkins, who saw the pile of pieces for the picture they would make from the very start. My editor, Amanda Martin, the dedicated puzzle solver who strikes up camp at the table, thank you for sorting every piece into matching piles and making it easier for the rest of us. I appreciate your compassion and patience in the face of authorial stubbornness and an army of errant tabs. Ali Arnold, a fiercely observant and talented copy editor, for matching up the sky blues with slightly different sky blues. Sarah Fletcher, who proofread the novel, thank you for testing each piece in all four directions to make sure it fit properly. I’m very fortunate to have a second brilliant publisher work on this book, so my thanks also to Beverley Cousins for her assistance in slotting in those final pieces. Once the jigsaw was finished, then came the challenge of showing it off around the world. To that end, I would like to thank Nerrilee Weir for her international efforts.

 

‹ Prev