Writing killed Remy St. James. Many people could argue that point but for all their denials, it is as true as anything else in this world. Granted, the act itself didn’t do it; unlike his wit, his prose was no where near that sharp.
Some might have an argument for placing blame on Remy’s new wife, but, as the detectives working the case were in the habit of telling anyone who would listen, the local criminalists had yet to thoroughly consider all the things that needed consideration.
The consideration should begin with the fact that his new found fame gained Remy a bit of a reputation over the course of the last few months of his miserable life. His writing could explain why he was suddenly a hit with the ladies. Remy was relatively plain and he wasn’t particularly well versed in the art of seduction but he was able to bed more than a few women who were clearly out of his league, possibly not even playing the same sport. Along with those few dispossessed women who might hold a grudge, there were a few men who might not have taken kindly to his new found sway with their wives.
His wife had recently made aware of this due to a few lipstick stained shirts and more than a few numbers scrawled on the inside of matchbook covers. While it was hard to miss bright red lipstick on a dead white shirt, matchbooks might not have been noticed if not for the fact that Remy didn’t smoke.