Chapter 13: The Author is Dead, Part 2Bad circumstances have a way of ruining things that would otherwise be pleasant. The eleventh anniversary had been going very well until murder reared its ugly head. Tragedy had been giving the Team Squad a demo session at the fitness center. Everyone else had been watching Redbox DVDs that Gigi’s kids brought. But all members heard MasterKlaus’ cry for help and came running, their pleasant evenings unexpectedly interrupted. They all crowded into the room in time to hear Daniel Handler’s last words.
No one was ready to accept the fact that the author had perished, but there he lay, deathly still, with a pool of blood forming around him. Next to him was Ernist, who died courageously, but in vain. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. As they realized what happened, panic broke out. There are two basic types of panicking: standing still and not saying a word, and leaping all over the place babbling anything that comes into your head. There were 667ers in the room of both types. Sixteen was an example of the former, and Cybermystery was an example of the latter. Actually, Trikip fell into a category of his own. He vomited all over Shelly’s new shoes. He was very squeamish, and the only thing that scared him more than blood was dogs.
"Goodness! Good God! Blessed Allah! Zeus and Hera! Mary and Joseph! Nathaniel Hawthorne! Don't touch him! Give him some food! Is there a doctor in the house?!" shrieked Cybermystery desperately, even though the author was clearly dead.
"Dr. Love here to make your love needs fixed!" chimed Dr. Love, one of the most surprising attendants.
Willis quickly shoved him into the hall and slammed the door behind him. “Who invited that idiot, anyway?” he asked in a disapproving tone. Tragedy stared at the floor, embarrassed.
Snicket raised his hand for quiet. He knelt down, pushed MasterKlaus aside, and felt Handler’s pulse. He shook his head slowly. Everyone had fallen silent. "It's clear what's happened here," he said, very gravely.
"You always have the answer!" said Cybermystery, his eyes shining with admiration.
"Yes. My friends... Fellow members of 667 Dark Avenue message board…The author is dead. This is a homicide," Snicket finished confidently.
Everyone stared at Snicket for a few moments.
"..." said the Team Squad.
J appeared at the door, breaking the silence. "Homicide? What makes you say that? Is it the harpoon gun on the floor, or the knife wound in Daniel Handler's chest? asked J, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“SLAAAAAAAMMM,” interjected Sixteen, Pandora, Willis and Tragedy.
Snicket ignored J and spoke with supreme confidence. "I may not know the culprit just yet, but have no fear. With Snicket on the job, the killer will be behind bars before you can say ‘abracadabra’!"
“And I will facilitate his work, and remain observatory,” piped Cybermystery.
“It’s hard to believe, but whoever committed this terrible act must be one of us,” said mijahu. “There are very few people left in Chicago.”
“Please mijahu, leave the detective work to me. I don’t need amateurs like you mucking up my progress,” sneered Snicket snootily.
“Why do you get to be the detective? I thought you were a magician,” said Willis.
“Shut up Willis, nobody asked you,” spat Cybermystery angrily.
Majid started to play “Things Are Not What They Appear,” as the room’s occupants shifted uncomfortably, wondering if one of their number murdered Handler and Ernist.
Snicket looked searched Handler's coat pockets, looking for clues. He found an envelope, and read the contents. He then put the envelope in his pocket and began to pace the room. Everyone watched him, waiting for an epiphany. “I’m having trouble coming up with suspects,” he admitted, after two minutes of furrowing his brow. “I hereby open up the floor to suggestions.”
Trikip was first to speak. “It was Triangle Eyes! She’s been acting like poop today and besides, she’s a liberal!” he yelled, his chin still covered in flecks of vomit.
"Tri Eyes couldn’t have been the killer," Tragedy countered. "She's been wiggling around on the ground like a slug since she lost her wheelchair." Triangle Eyes looked blankly up at everyone staring at her, a strand of drool coming out of the corner of her mouth.
“It was Kate and Ann!” suggested Linda. “They always try to cause trouble.”
“Those two are dead,” Derik reminded her.
“It was J! she has been acting aloof all day, and word on the street is that she murdered M! She also just said that Handler had knife wound, and she hasn’t even had a good look at the body since we’ve all gathered in here.” said swans.
J defended herself. “If I were to kill Daniel Handler, I would not use a harpoon gun or a knife. I would use this swordcane.” She cackled maniacally and shook her cane at swans menacingly.
“It was MasterKlaus!” exclaimed Jemima. “He’s the one that ‘found’ the body. Seems pretty suspicious to me.”
“You are kidding right? Either that, or you are just plain crazy! I would never kill Daniel Handler. That handsome devil was my role model!” said MasterKlaus.
“Maybe it was shotzgoboom!” said Jenny. “I don’t know her very well, but her name sounds pretty violent.”
“It definitely wasn’t her,” announced Gigi’s daughter. “She was helping me choose a movie to watch.”
“It was Masterviolet!” proposed mijahu. “She called me fat and ugly. She made fun of my homosexuality and acne. It’s a normal teenage affliction, I tell you!”
“That’s right Mijahu. And you should be able to marry another man! I’m sure God has no problem with it. I tolerate gay people so much!” said Libitina reassuringly.
“…um… I think he was talking about the acne,” said Shruti, …annoyed.
“Anyway, Masterviolet isn’t here. Rumor has it that after tk beat her to the opportunity to model with Liam Aiken, she drowned herself in a pool,” growled Zavi. Tragedy winked at Willis, who winked at Sixteen, who winked back at Tragedy as the three of them shared an inside joke.
“It was Tragedy!” yelled Elle. “He’s a disgusting pervert with no manners! I hate that guy. He jokes about things that should never be joked about.”
“You mean like Jesus?” asked Libitina.
“But he was coming out of the fitness center to help me carry my suitcase to my room right before Daniel was killed,” interrupted tk.
“It was Libitina!” said Willis. “She hates men, and Daniel Handler was definitely a man.”
“What makes you so sure?” winked Pandora.
“lohe,” said Charlotte.
Sixteen had been standing in silence, holding Jenny’s hand tightly. “There’s only one surviving member who RSVPed and has not yet been seen. Alice.” Finally, there was a suggestion that made sense to everyone.
It is one of life’s bitterest truths that bedtime so often arrives just when things are really getting interesting. The group agreed to rest before pursuing Daniel Handler’s murderer with renewed vigor in the morning
***
A miserable experience remains a miserable experience even on the loveliest of mornings. Every 667er awoke with a horrible knot of sadness in the pit of his or her stomach. Willis was the first to wake up and went to the dining room. He looked around, but did not see a bro. However, everyone joined him within a few minutes. After a hearty breakfast of huevos rancheros, the 667ers agreed to split up into search parties for Alice, who they assumed had killed Daniel Handler. They were about to be reminded that assumptions are dangerous things to make, and like all dangerous things to make -- bombs, for instance, or strawberry shortcake -- if you make even the tiniest mistake you can find yourself in terrible trouble. Gathered on the sidewalk, they spotted a solitary figure approaching from down the street. It was Alice, looking filthy and tired.
“Sorry I’m late. My GPS navigation system hasn’t been working well for the past year so I got lost a few times. Plus, I had to walk because my car broke down at the state line.”
Snicket said, “Hmm, Alice wouldn’t approach us like this if she knew anything about Handler’s death.”
“orly,” said Fancy.
“yarly,” responded Willis.
“Well, there goes our prime suspect,” whined Cybermystery.
“What are you talking about?” Alice asked.
“We assumed you did it, because you didn’t show up yesterday and you’ve been pretty crazy since Songbird’s death,” said BSam.
Alice looked completely puzzled. “Did what?”
Sixteen was surprised by Alice’s appearance. With Jenny clinging to his waist, he explained the situation to Alice, and apologized for naming her as a suspect. Alice could not believe it. Before she learned of Daniel’s death, she would have said that she was too numb to cry. She left the group and circled the block, overwhelmed with sorrow. Unless you have been very, very lucky, you know that a good, long session of weeping can often make you feel better, even if your circumstances have not changed one bit. After crying, she returned to the 667ers and vowed to help them find Daniel’s killer, no matter what it took.
“Why don’t we go to a library?” suggested Libitina. “The answer to nearly every question is written down someplace.” People were not very enthusiastic about that idea.
Gwendolyn, largely unruffled by the previous night’s events, was chomping on popcorn. She suggested that they take a break from the crime-solving and shoot a group photo at the base of Willis tower, so that they could post it in the Post Your Picture thread for 667ers who didn’t attend. Everyone agreed that Triangle Eyes should take the picture, because no one wanted her to be in it and because her low vantage point would give the shot a very interesting angle.
Charlotte had gotten hardly any sleep the night before, and was very grumpy. As they lined up for the photograph, she looked at Jemima spitefully. "Ew. I don't want to be in a photo with cat girl. Imagine if my friends saw me tagged in a picture with her," she complained. In the next moment, many things happened in quick succession. A manic glint lit Jemima’s eyes and she let out a furious roar. Violently, she lunged at Charlotte, removing a shining blade from her backpack. It was stained with dried blood. She plunged the knife into Charlotte’s right arm, and pulled the weapon back for a second strike. It took the combined efforts of Sixteen and Tragedy to stop her. Even then, she fought and struggled with such rage that they had to knock her out with bricks from the road.
Snicket took the knife from Jemima’s limp hand and inspected it. He licked some blood from the blade. Everyone groaned in disgust. “I hereby conclude that this was the knife that killed Mr. Daniel Handler. Jemima is the murderer.” Cybermystery was crying with awe, but no one else was impressed. They had come to that conclusion on their own, and were shocked that Jemima, one of the kindest and most loyal 667ers, had committed such a terrible deed.
Emma Squalor was shaking. "I don't understand. Jemima always seemed like the sweetest girl on 667. She can’t be the murderer."
“Just because you don’t understand doesn’t mean it isn’t so. I think I know why she did this.”
Linda was Jemima’s closest friend on 667, and she provided a complete explanation. “Jemima was always optimistic and happy on the outside, but she actually suffered a lot. Her parents took her cats away from her without giving her a chance to say goodbye. The French exchange student she was in love with invited her friend to stay with him in Paris, but offered no such invitation to Jemima. Her sister was cheated out of a state spelling bee victory. Her best online friend, Libitina, abandoned her to go hunting for boys. Her parents prevented her from doing the things she really wanted to do, like spending thousands of dollars to fly to Belgium for a day to see her favorite composer perform. When she finally did make it to Belgium on her own, the composer died in the gamma ray burst just before the concert began. Matt Bellamy, one of her idols, refused to be photographed with her when she met him in Mexico. To top it off, her parents died last year. She traveled the world alone, and witnessed even more horrors. Then, on her way back to America, she was on a boat with lovey-dovey Jenny and Sixteen, who treated her like an unwelcome third wheel.” Jenny and Sixteen shifted uncomfortably. It was true. They been neglectful of Jemima the entire trip, if not downright rude to her.
Linda continued, “These experiences had a profound influence on her mindset. No one ever gave her enough attention on 667, laughing off her problems. I believe that Daniel Handler refused Jemima's photographic request in a way similar to Matt Bellamy, and that caused deep resentment and rage. Charlotte’s comment touched a very sore spot.”
"That's true. Jemima told me that she went to a small book signing after her parents died. She hoped Daniel Handler would comfort her, but he just screamed and ran away when she asked if he would be in a picture with her." said Fancy.
“Yeah, I think she told me the same story and I just mocked her for having really insignificant problems,” added Tragedy.
"It is terribly rude to tell people that their troubles are boring." said Libitina, shaking her head disapprovingly.
“Well, you know what they say. Misery loves company. Maybe Jemima thought that inflicting pain on the rest of us by killing Daniel Handler would make her own suffering easier to bear,” said Tragedy.
Snicket reinserted himself into the conversation pompously. “In conclusion, I would say that Jemima had two motives for killing Daniel Handler. One, to get revenge on Daniel Handler for avoiding her at the book signing, during her time of need. Two, to bring the rest of the 667ers into a state of despair and hopelessness similar to hers.”
“Crazy cat magee,” said Charlotte, who was dressing her wound with Pandora’s help.
“Well, what do we do now?” asked mijahu.
Deciding on the right thing to do is a bit like deciding on the right thing to wear to a party. It is easy to decide on what is wrong to wear to a party, such as deep-sea diving equipment or a pair of large pillows, but deciding what is right is much trickier. Mijahu’s question opened up a can of worms, a phrase which here means “started a heated argument between the 667ers.” Arguing with somebody is never pleasant, but sometimes it is useful and necessary to do so.
“An eye for an eye. We kill her. Brutally. Like she killed Daniel,” said Alice, her voice was icy.
“If everyone fought fire with fire, the entire world would go up in smoke,” said Linda, disapprovingly.
“I’m with Linda. That’s not justice,” said shotzgoboom. “Besides, I’d like to think that none of us are capable of murder.”
“Yeah, aside from J.” interjected Derik. “I still think she murdered M.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Who cares?” said Willis. “This is about Cat Girl, not J.”
“Justice schmushtice,” said J, ignoring Derik and responding to shotzgoboom. “Justice is out. Injustice is in. That’s why it’s called injustice! I say we wake her up and torture her.”
“No! She’s a sweet girl. We should bake her a cake,” said Libitina.
“Criminals should be punished, not fed pastries,” said BSam, exasperatedly.
“I’m with J and Alice on this one. If you are too scared to execute Jemima, you clearly don’t have what it takes,” said Shruti.
“It doesn’t take courage to kill someone. It takes a severe lack of moral stamina!” said Gigi, trying to set a good example for her kids.
“Jemima did a terrible thing, but she does not deserve to die,” agreed JTB.
“Neither did Daniel Handler. Neither did Ernist. Neither did Songbird. People don’t always get what they deserve in this world,” said Alice quietly.
Everyone was silent for a while. Although they tried to be virtuous and good, they were all filled with hatred and disgust. They wanted revenge for Jemima’s treachery.
Finally, Tragedy spoke up with a plan that was agreeable to all. “I’ve got it. Let’s look to Lemony Snicket for a solution.”
“You mean we should make her do Special Orphan Running Exercise?” asked MasterKlaus247.
“No,” said Tragedy. “We will build her a self-sustaining hot air mobile home. She will float over the world for the rest of her life, unable to harm anyone else with her madness. When she regains consciousness, she will be utterly alone. It is far better to be trapped than to be dead.”
“That’s a good idea, but I don’t think it’s enough punishment. We want her to suffer just as she has made us suffer by killing Daniel, insulting High School Musical, complaining about spelling bees and claiming that her grandmother named the Green Bay Packers,” said Pandora.
“I’ve got an idea,” said Willis. “Just put Trikip on the hot air balloon with her. It will be a lifetime of torture.” Many people nodded in agreement. At first, Libitina was not amenable to the idea. After it became clear that Trikip was attracted to Jemima and liked the plan, she agreed to sacrifice her brother for the greater good.
The rest of the day was spent on construction. One half of the group built the self-sustaining hot air mobile home. The other half prepared Daniel Handler’s grave. They took a lunch break, during which Cybermystery grilled cheer-up cheeseburgers, since everyone was in mourning. Jemima was kept sedated. Hours later, the mobile home was ready to fly, and equipped with enough food for Trikip and Jemima to survive for eighty years. Trikip insisted that no bathrooms be installed, so that he could “watch her do it.”
After they released the self-sustaining hot air mobile home into the sky, it was time to bury Daniel Handler. They found a large field, which was very appropriate. It was an apple orchard, much like the arboretum in
The End. It was a bittersweet ceremony, with touching speeches, beautiful music from Majid, and ringing bells. They did a second funeral for Ernist, and buried him next to the man he tried to save. When that was over, the 667ers gathered close to say goodbye (with varying levels of emotion, depending on who they were bidding farewell). They had all started to walk their separate ways, when they simultaneously turned back to each other, voicing their doubts.
“How will we continue with our lives happily, now that Daniel Handler is dead?” Emma called out.
“How will we discuss the new Snicket series without Dante to lead us?” wondered Hermes.
“How will I explain Trikip’s fate to Unikip?” asked Libitina.
“How will a decent health care bill ever be passed now that the world is largely without government?” questioned Triangle Eyes in a rare coherent sentence. She picked a wriggling worm from the ground and put it in her mouth.
“How did Ernist discover the crystal skull anyway?” wondered Fancy.
“Who?” asked BSam.
“How do you solve a problem like Maria?” sang mijahu.
“How do you catch a cloud and pin it down?” responded Libitina.
“How are BSam and I going to get back home?” asked Shelly.
“How will Pandora and I discuss TV shows, now that the entertainment industry has been decimated?“ worried Willis.
“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways,” whispered Sixteen to Jenny.
“How will we ever have children?” asked Elle and Doorknobs.
“How will we meet again, when the world is such a harum-scarum place?” pondered tk.
Their questions hung in the cool evening air between them. Aside from mijahu’s, these were questions that only the passage of time could answer. Once again, they began to drift apart. Now their shadows were long on the grassy field.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Snicket ran back to Alice and handed her the envelope he had taken from Daniel Handler’s pocket. “I was keeping this as evidence back when we thought you were the murderer. It’s a letter for you from Daniel Handler, apologizing for not responding to your correspondence sooner, but assuring you that you are in his thoughts.” Alice took the letter, smiled her only smile of the meet-up, and walked away. Somehow, despite all she had been through, this small comfort brought her happiness.
The sun was beginning to set. It was time to go. The Team Squad would head for Minnesota, joined by Sixteen and Jenny. Gigi and the girls would go back to Stud School. Many would wander aimlessly, exploring the world. The 667ers took one last look at Daniel Handler’s grave and continued on divergent paths. They hoped that they would meet again, and that in times of need, they would always have their fellow members to rely on. They all had a set of Daniel Handler’s new series packed into their suitcases. They would read them on their homeward journeys, eager to log onto 667 Dark Avenue to discuss the new books.
Majid played “Dreary, Dreary” in the dusk. With the darkness and distance rising between them, soon the 667ers could no longer see each other. The last rays of daylight illuminated Daniel Handler’s grave. The tombstone read,
“Sometimes words are not enough.”