M Is for Malice

"He'd undergone a lot of soul-searching. He'd committed his life to God. There wasn't any point fabricating some tall tale about Patty Maddison."
    "He was busy revising history. It's something we all do. You repent your sins and then in memory, you start cleaning up your past. Pretty soon, you're convinced you weren't nearly as bad as everyone said. The other guy was a jerk, but you had good reason for anything you did. It's all bunk, of course, but which of us can stand to take a look at ourselves? We whitewash. It's human nature."
    "You're talking about the Guy Malek of the old days. Not the one I met. All I know is, I have a hard time picturing Guy doing this."
    "You knew him less than a week and believed everything he said. He was a bad egg."
    "But Donovan, look at the nature of his crimes. None of them, were like this," I said. "As a kid, he was into vandalism. Later, he stole cars and stereos to pay for drugs. Forgery's too sophisticated a scheme for someone who spent his days getting high. Trust me. I've been high. You think you're profound but you're barely functional."
    "Guy was a bright boy. He learned fast."
    "I better talk to Paul," I said, unwilling to concede.
    "He'll tell you the same thing. In fact, that's probably what put the idea in Guy's head in the first place. You have a good friend whose dad deals in rare documents, it doesn't take any great leap to figure it out when you've got access to something valuable."
    "I hear what you're saying, but it isn't sitting right."
    "You know anything about liars?" Donovan asked.
    "Sure, I think I can say so. What about 'em?"
    "A liar – a truly dedicated liar – lies because he can, because he's good at it. He lies for the pure pleasure, because he loves getting away with it. That's how Guy was. If he could tell you some lie – even if it meant nothing, even if there was nothing to be gained – he couldn't resist."
    "You're telling me he was a pathological liar," I said, restating his claim in a tone of skepticism.
    "I'm saying he enjoyed lying. He couldn't help himself."
    "I don't believe that," I said. "I happen to think I'm a pretty good judge of liars."
    "You know when some people lie, but not all."
    "What makes you such an expert?" I said, beginning to take offense. Donovan was just as annoyed with me.
    He made a dismissive gesture. I suspected he wasn't used to having women argue with him. "Forget it. Have it your way," he said. "I can tell I'm not going to persuade you of anything."
    "Nor I you," I said tartly. "What happened to the older sister?"
    Donovan grimaced with exasperation. "Are you going to take my word for it or is this an excuse for another round of arguments?"
    "I'm arguing about Guy, not the Maddisons, okay?"
    "Okay. Claire – the older one – abandoned her plans for med school. She had no money and her mom was sinking like a. stone. For a while she came back to. take care of her. That, was maybe six months or so. Once mom was gone, she went back to the East Coast – Rhode Island or some place. Might have been Connecticut. She got married to some fellow, but it didn't work out. Then about a year ago, she offed herself. Or so I heard."
    "She committed suicide?"
    "Why not? Her whole family was gone. She had no one. The family was a bit dicey to begin with – bunch of manic-depressives. I guess something must have finally pushed her over the edge."
    "What'd she do, jump off a building?"
    "I don't know how she did it. I wasn't being literal. There was a notice in the local paper. It happened back east somewhere."
    I was silent again. "So maybe one of the Maddisons killed Guy. Wouldn't that make sense?"
    "You're fishing. I just told you, they're all gone."
    "But how do you know there isn't someone left? Cousins, for instance? Aunts and uncles? Patty's best friend?"
    "Come on. Would you really murder someone who wronged a relative of yours? A sibling, maybe. But a cousin or a niece?"
    "Well, no, but I'm not close to my relatives. Suppose something like that happened to your family."
    "Something did happen to my family. Guy was killed," he said.
    "Don't you want revenge?"
    "Enough to kill someone? Absolutely not. Besides, if I cared enough to kill, I wouldn't wait this long. You're talking eighteen years."
    "But Guy was missing all that time. You notice, once he came home, he was dead within days."
    "True enough," he said.
    "Does the name Max or Maximilian Outhwaite figure into this in any way? It could even be Maxine. I can't swear to