“Gotcha,” said Danny.
A youngish woman yelled over, “This is the last one for the dat tape.”
The guy at the console said, “Great,” pulled off his head-set, nodded at Kate. “We’re putting several tracks together right now—all of it according to Elena’s notes, which, thank God, are really detailed. Danny, over there, he’s working on this amazing new computer program that allows you to insert any bit of music anywhere, anytime. It’s called Pro-tools. Really cool.”
“What’s a dat tape?” asked Kate.
“The master recording. We’ll pull the CDs and tapes off it when it’s finished.” He replaced his earphones, checked his big board, adjusted a lever, then pulled the earphones off again. “Wanna listen?”
Kate got the speakers to her ears. Elena’s crystalline voice was moving up and down the scales, sliding, swooping, incredibly alive. Behind it, over it, they’d overlaid Elena speaking, reciting words, almost telling a story, but totally abstract—the two forms melding into the odd kind of visual music Elena had become known for in the performance world. All that was missing was the young woman herself. Kate closed her eyes, pictured Elena on a pure-white stage.
“That’s the last piece in the CD,” the technician said. “How’s it sound to you?”
Kate was listening to Elena, but could read the guy’s lips. “Beautiful,” she said. “Really beautiful.”
He smiled, gave the other techies a high sign.
Elena’s words and music were playing somewhere far inside Kate’s head. “Does it have a name?” she asked.
The technician motioned to the guy at the computer. “Danny, this last piece, does it have a name?”
Kate lifted one of the earphones away from her head, waited, still listening to Elena’s amazing music being piped into her other ear.
Danny looked down at a sheet of Elena’s notes. “Yes,” he said. “It’s called ‘Kate’s Song.’ ”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This first novel was aided and abetted by the following people:
My daughter, Doria, a reader, a writer, and a beautiful listener.
My sister, Roberta, who was my first editor.
My mother, Edith, who taught me, among other things, the art of embellishing a story.
My sister-in-law, Kathy Rolland, for her generosity of spirit.
Jane O’Keefe for inspiration and true-blue friendship.
Jan Heller Levi, who taught me too many things about writing to list.
Janice Deaner for helping to make the book a reality.
Thanks to the following friends who not only helped but listened to me whine, and have for years: Susan Crile, Ward Mintz and Floyd Lattin, Marcia Tucker, Graham Leader, Jane Kent and David Storey, Judd Tully, Lynn Freed, Elaina Richardson, Jon Giswold, Jane and Jack Rivkin, Caren and Dave Cross, Richard Shebairo, Jim Kempner, Valerie McKenzie, Elizabeth Frank, and Reiner Leist and the rest of my tenth-floor studio buddies, David, Lisa, Sally, and Regina . . .
More thanks to:
Suzanne Gluck, a great agent.
Trish Grader for her excellent and compassionate editing, and Sarah Durand, as well.
Richard Abate for his tough guidance.
To the Corporation of Yaddo, which has nurtured my painting, given birth to my writing, and saved my sanity (more than once).
And to my wife, Joy, for everything else.
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About the Author
JONATHAN SANTLOFER is an internationally recognized artist with more than one hundred exhibitions in the United States and abroad. His work, which is displayed in many public, private, and corporate collections, has been written about in the New York Times, Art in America, and Artforum. His many awards include two National Endowment for the Arts painting grants, and he is a member of Yaddo, one of the oldest arts communities in the country. He lives in New York City and is working on his next novel of suspense.
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Raves for the fiction debut of acclaimed artist
JONATHAN
SANTLOFER
“[He] keeps readers guessing
all the way to the conclusion.”
San Francisco Chronicle
“A smart and sophisticated thriller. . .
An intriguing look at the New York art scene,
and a very original look at murder.”
Nelson DeMille
“Colorful . . . fascinating . . . disturbing . . .
a crime novel that is savage and erudite,
layered in wit, satire, and psychosis—
in short, a chilling novel.”
USA Today
“THE DEATH ARTIST is stylish, scary,
and very, very smart.
Jonathan Santlofer’s thriller really thrills.”
Susan Isaacs
“Santlofer’s insight into the passion at the heart of
great art brings his evocative thriller to
richly impastoed life. Bottom line: Fine portrait.”
People
“A fast, fun read. There are gruesome murders,
clever clues, a diabolical killer,
and enough red herrings to stock a fish market.”
Phillip Margolin
“An art history lesson from the dark side.”
Marcia Tucker, Founding Director Emerita,
New Museum of Contemporary Art, New York
“A unique spin on the
too-familiar serial killer thriller. . .
[The Death Artist] digs deeper into the
myriad personalities, politics, and duplicity
of the art community than any other
mystery has dared.”
Ft. Lauderdale Sun-Sentinel
“Santlofer shows a sure sense of pace
and an engaging literary style.”
Cleveland Plain Dealer
“Intriguing.”
St. Petersburg Times
“High-class . . . alternately brutal and dishy.”
Publishers Weekly
“An intellectual conundrum
posed with visceral immediacy.”
Slate
“Vivid . . . unsettling.” Kirkus Reviews
“Pleasingly nasty . . .
Santlofer’s Manhattan is a place of
seething resentment, greed, hypocrisy,
and some genuine talent, a heartless world where
art and pornography feed on each other.”
Washington Post Book World
“The cat-and-mouse interplay
between Kate and the killer
is cleverly portrayed . . .”
Tulsa World
“Spellbinding, sexy, and savage.
Santlofer deftly navigates the avaricious
and passion-stroked New York art world,
painting it with a blood-soaked brush.”
Judd Tully, editor-at-large, Art & Auction Magazine
“A juicy ride.”
Book Street
“Solidly crafted . . .
fully fleshed-out characters . . .
compelling . . . .”
Bergen Record
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters,
incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
THE DEATH ARTIST. Copyright © 2002 by Jonathan Sanlofer. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub © Edition NOVEMBER 2005 ISBN: 9780061744709
First HarperTorch paperback printing: September 2003
First William Morrow hardcover printing: September 2002
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