There's always someone willing to believe malicious rumours.

Plague might be a social incompetent, but he was unquestionably a genius.

Sometimes they were together so often that it felt as though they really were a couple; sometimes weeks and months would go by before they saw each other. But even as alcoholics are drawn to the state liquor store after a stint on the wagon, they always came back to each other.

In ordinary detective novels you never see the consequences of what happens in a story in the next book. That you do in mine.

Take "no" as an encouragement to redouble his efforts, so it was easier to say "yes" right away.

Been there, done that, got the T-shirt.

I believe that everyone has it in them to kill another person. In desperation, or hatred, or at least to defend themselves.