For a writer, killing off a character, I imagine, is as close as we get to playing God. Sometimes, it hurts. Sometimes, we’re indifferent. But it’s something you have to take seriously. Because once it’s done, it’s done. 

I knew I was going to get some blowback over killing off Deirdre. You have a perfectly popular supporting character, and you have the gall to kill her off? Forget that she’s a contract killer and her lifespan was never going to be long. You had to kill her off on Joe’s watch? What were you thinking?

First, you have to understand Deirdre was never meant to be here for a long time. In fact, she wasn’t meant to hang around for more than one book. She was introduced in Death Wears a Big Hat, mostly as a function of the story. I needed Joe and his friends to be caught between the devil and the deep blue sea: crooks on one side, cops on the other, only them in the middle. Deirdre had to represent the crooks, in addition to the actual murderer. 

Originally, I was going to use a hitman character named Bart, who’s shown up in a number of things I’ve written. I eventually decided against this for two reasons: 1) While Bart has shown up a number of my writings, none of them have been successful. (Stop trying to make Bart happen!); and 2) a woman would make a more interesting character. So, I began to create a female contract killer. Her personality began to form as she interacted with others (the love/hate relationship with Joe, the history with James Street, etc.). If you read (or re-read) Big Hat, you’ll come away with the feeling Deirdre is more potential than realization. Which meant she was a great character to bring back again. By the time I finished Big Hat, I knew Deirdre would make a return, this time in a more prominent role.

Deirdre returned in Death is a Real Killer. This time, she worked side-by-side with Joe, trying to solve a murder for which she was (ironically) innocent. The trick here was to drop more clues about Deirdre’s past without revealing much of anything. We find out she had a mentor named Warren. He saved her from something. Her real name is Christina. She has a handler named Emily. One of the subplots to the book (not entirely successful, I have to admit) is the idea that as Joe gets closer to Deirdre, he discovers he doesn’t really know her at all. But it DID set things up to bring Deirdre back again. (Hell, I think I planned that before I even started Killer.)

Having teased so much, it stood to reason that Death and the Single Killer would be the perfect time to tell Deirdre’s backstory. Plus, I had already introduced a device in Death is the One That Got Away by which I would replace the Cup o’ Joe opening in every chapter with a backstory. (For those who may be concerned, the Cup o’ Joe openings will return with Book 12 and will remain for the foreseeable future.) This gave me the opening to tell Deirdre’s story, as well as explore different methods of storytelling. 

The problem, of course, was that it left nothing else to tell about Deirdre. When you’ve intrigued the reader with a character cloaked in mystery, there’s no point continuing once the mystery is revealed. As I said, telling Deirdre’s story was the next logical step. But once it was told, it was time for her to go away.

I didn’t set out to write a trilogy about Deirdre. As you can see, things just developed as I went. She’s a character that–and I have no reason to doubt the feedback I’ve gotten–is popular with my readers. But I recognize her, have always recognized her, as a character who is best used in small doses. A character revealed in bits and pieces, not unlike the mysteries themselves. 

The tough part, of course, is to recognize when a character like that has outlived their usefulness. Even a little too much can color the audience’s view of a character. As theatre folk say: always leave them wanting more. This seems like the perfect place to leave off with Deirdre.

To be clear, I did not do this with any particular joy. I genuinely enjoyed writing Deirdre, and I enjoyed the journey that got us to this point. But sometimes, you have to make difficult decisions. Maybe that’s why I prefer playing God to having the actual job.