“I don’t need to give the police even the smallest crumb to suspect either of us as the perpetrator of this crime, which is why I’m glad Sullivan took this call. He’s tough and has a reputation for not jumping to easy conclusions. That’s what I need right now—an open mind.”

Hank’s relief at seeing Sully as the lead detective on Ben’s murder case serves as an example of a red herring and irony. Hank introduces Sully as a trustworthy good cop, when in reality he’s corrupt, distracting the reader from the true identity of Ben’s murderer and adding irony to the revelation of Sully’s involvement. Hank’s anxiety over becoming a suspect also speaks to The Precarious Process of Proving One’s Innocence.

“He had taken the afternoon off from work, and his charm and playful demeanor were at an all-time high, as if that would distract me from the fact that he was lying about his plans.”

Camille describes Ben’s moods and illustrates her understanding of Ben as a person and the complexity of his characterization. Ben’s kindness disguises his ability to manipulate others, and he only tries to “charm” Camille to achieve his own nefarious ends, reflecting The Impact of Coercive Control Within Marriage.

“You always look at the spouse first. History tells you the odds are in favor of them being the killer. I can’t see it with Camille, though. That devastation, that fear, that grief were real.”

Hank’s connection to Camille begins within the first chapters of the novel, and Hank trusts Camille implicitly, even though he understands logically that Camille should be the first suspect he considers. Hank’s desire for Camille remains subterranean for most of the novel, but Elston hints at their connection early on.

“Do I trust that if Camille is able to find proof of Ben’s wrongdoing that she’ll share it? No, I don’t. So my housemates and I made our own plan that she doesn’t know about.”

The lack of trust between Aubrey and Camille is essential to their relationship dynamic. The women work together, but the gap between them remains wide, as their different backgrounds and different desired outcomes lead them to keep secrets from each other, and these secrets almost prevent them from uncovering the truth.

“He’s still dressed as Lawyer Ben, but he’s barely through the door before he starts shedding that persona, transforming right before my eyes.”

Ben’s character is multifaceted, as he’s created various personas to inhabit. He pretends to be an ethical and successful lawyer, a loving husband, and a dedicated churchgoer, when he really utilizes all his constructed personas to achieve his goals of accruing wealth and power.

“Ben was a great guy and a good boss, but he insisted on keeping a professional distance from the staff. You went out of your way to get to know everyone here. If he would have forced you out, half of the office would have left with you, including me.”

Hank’s assistant, Lila, affirms Hank’s connections to the other employees at Bayliss and Landry, contrasting Hank and Ben in their professional outlooks. Ben never became close to his employees, likely because he was hiding his corruption, while Hank is the more affable partner, free from corruption.

“And now there’s another feeling coursing through me. A teeny, tiny glimmer of hope. If I can get proof of whatever it is he’s up to, I may have a way out.”

Elston often ends the chapters of Anatomy of an Alibi with emotional cliffhangers, and Chapter 13 is no different. As Camille realizes that Ben is hiding something that could invalidate the prenuptial agreement, Camille experiences hope, an ironic emotion given that Camille’s investigation will uncover a series of tragedies and corruption related to not only Ben, but her entire family.

“Because of who Ben was, Sullivan knows she’s not your typical witness who he can easily bully into thinking she has no rights. And because of who I am, he knows if he pushes too hard, I’ll advise her to say next to nothing, which won’t help his case. There are real benefits to being connected.”

Hank astutely notes that Sully cannot question Camille too suddenly or harshly, stating verbatim that Camille’s “connections” have value. Elston illustrates the impact of power and financial affluence on the justice system, rigging it in favor of the wealthy instead of the truly innocent. This passage thus reflects the relationship between class and credibility in a socially stratified community.

“Camille has to believe she’s in control of any information uncovered, because I’m not sure she’ll willingly share it with us.”

Aubrey’s distrusting attitude toward Camille motivates her to change the trajectory of their plan, a change that results in furthering the separation between the women and the truth of Ben’s murder. They betray each other in small ways, and this betrayal fosters further distrust in the wake of Ben’s murder as both face the precarious process of proving one’s innocence.

“I wasn’t sure if he’d play dumb or come right out and say Ben was intimidating witnesses, but there it is.”

Hank uncovers the truth of Ben’s corruption from one of Ben’s clients who directly asks Hank to intimidate witnesses on his behalf. The brazenness of the client illustrates the depth of Ben’s corruption: Ben wasn’t subtle with his clients, and they knew precisely how he obtained his success. Hank, meanwhile, saw the best in Ben, misled by his loyalty. Ben’s behavior speaks to the relationship between class and credibility in a socially stratified community.

“My mind floods with memories of moments between them that I had shoved aside. Small touches that weren’t exactly inappropriate but felt a bit too intimate. A look between them that feels like they share the same secrets. Nothing overtly sexual but a familiarity that shouldn’t be there.”

Camille watches Margaret and Ben on the hidden cameras and initially assumes that Ben and Margaret are having an extramarital affair. Camille assumes the same about Aubrey and Ben before she realizes that Ben’s shady behavior doesn’t surround a hidden sexual relationship, but instead something darker. This passage foreshadows the revelation that Margaret also knew the truth behind the cover-up.

“It’s hard not to roll my eyes. Pretty sure Silas only loves himself, and it will be a miracle if they’re still together a month after fall semester starts.”

Ben’s appraisal of the Everett siblings is not flattering: He thinks both Camille and Silas are spoiled, yet he cynically attaches himself to the family anyway. Ben assumes that Margaret and Silas will break up because of Silas’s heartlessness, but Ben judges the wrong person in the relationship. Margaret is the heartless one who will leave the Prices to die to save herself from jail.

“After that first image of Jesus, Foster starts reposting nothing but religious content about salvation and Heaven and repenting for your sins and begging for forgiveness.”

Kevin Foster’s turn to Christianity to absolve him of his many misdeeds adds complexity to Elston’s exploration of guilt and innocence. Foster knows the depth of his own guilt, but he tries to obtain absolution through faith and telling some of the truth. However, Foster does not free Paul Granger before he dies, and his character arc remains unfinished, reinforcing the precarious process of proving one’s innocence.

“If your phone and car were in St. Francisville, where the hell were you? Then I checked the location of your other devices.”

Ben illustrates the symbolic connection between technology and power as he gloats over his discovery of Camille hiding in the house. Camille tried to ditch her technological devices and avoid Ben’s continued control, but Ben thwarts her and locates her iPad, maintaining his power over Camille.

“I’ve already put plans in place that will change everything. Free us both from the noose your dad put around my neck all those years ago. We can figure this out. Find a way to make things work again. I know how much you don’t want people talking about you. About us. About your family. You just need to trust me like you used to. Trust me like I trust you.”

Ben defends his corrupt dealings with Randall and tries to convince Camille that his actions are in her best interest. Ben throws the concept of trust in Camille’s face, claiming to trust her when he seeks to control her. He doesn’t trust Camille, and his obsession with tracking her proves it, exposing the impact of coercive control within marriage.

“It’s interesting to see the differences and hard to ignore the lack of crossover between the two groups.”

Hank’s observation at Ben’s Rosary ceremony informs the theme of the relationship between class and credibility in a socially stratified community. Hank sees the Everetts and Ben’s wealthy clients on one side, and the less affluent Bayliss friends and family on the other. The dichotomy between the sides of Ben’s life couldn’t be clearer, as his past and present converge after his death and do not intermingle.

“Then don’t sit here and yell at me for not telling you everything. We may not have trusted each other before but we are going to have to trust each other now. You and I did enough questionable shit on Saturday that it would be easy for the DA to pin this on one or both of us. Ben’s death is huge news, and there’s only so much my family can do.”

Camille and Aubrey get into an argument at Ben’s Rosary, and Camille reminds Aubrey that they’re both in the crosshairs of the police. Randall can fix a case in Corbeau to save Silas, but Camille isn’t sure that he can save her or Aubrey from a murder conviction if the DA decides they’re guilty, reflecting the precarious process of proving one’s innocence.

“If anyone is to blame for pulling Aubrey in, it’s Kevin Foster…He could have turned what he had over to the Feds. Or sent it to the local news stations. But he didn’t. He went crying to Paul and dangled it over his head like a carrot on the end of a stick.”

Silas critiques Foster’s attempts at making amends, as Foster put the onus of proving Paul’s innocence on Paul himself and Aubrey, the victim of the crime. Foster had other pathways to expose the truth, but his fear of Randall kept him from doing the right thing, even as he faced down his own mortality.

“It’s not just the anatomy of an alibi—having someone vouch that you were somewhere else when the crime was committed—but it’s the psychology of it: that that someone is believable.”

Hank interrogates the idea of credibility in the context of criminal cases, reflecting on the precarious process of proving one’s innocence. Silas can’t serve as a witness for Camille because he’s too close to Camille to be objective. Silas has credibility due to his wealth and last name, but this credibility can’t protect Camille. Camille’s alibi falters because it hinges on her brother and Aubrey, a woman without credibility of her own.

“Ben thought he could dirty you up. And he was hoping since you came from the DA’s office, you would know their weaknesses. Know which guys were on the take. The ones who could be swayed and used. He’d been relying on Foster for years but wanted someone who answered to him, not to Dad. So honestly, man, take it as a compliment he didn’t want you anymore. For me, it makes me feel better that you’re the one who has Camille’s back now instead of Ben.”

Silas knows Ben’s darkness intimately, and his reassurance of Hank’s innocence and ethical nature keeps Hank as a relatively static character. Hank is singular in his goodness and honesty, and even though he agrees to lie about Sully’s involvement in the Prices’ deaths, he only does so to protect Camille and Aubrey.

“There’s no saving one without saving the other.”

Deacon tells Hank that they can’t save only one of the women they love, as Aubrey and Camille’s fates are entwined. Though Camille and Aubrey don’t trust each other, they are stuck together due to their involvement in investigating Ben. Deacon and Hank lack direct involvement in the case, but the women they love cannot escape suspicion unless they all collaborate.

“When Ben first came to Dad and me to tell us about Hank getting Paul’s file, he was freaking out. Worried how it would look if the truth came out now. How it would hurt his practice. Dad…was less worried about Paul and more about how much other evidence Foster had been stockpiling over the years. Paul Granger’s case would blow back on me and Ben, but everything else would destroy Dad.”

Silas and Camille discuss Foster’s evidence and its ramifications. Randall Everett looms large in the narrative, though he directly appears in very few scenes. Randall functions as a red herring, as he appears to have the most plausible motive for murdering Ben to protect himself.

“If she hadn’t let my brother think he was guilty of her actions all those years ago, how different would each of our lives have been? Ben wouldn’t ever have gotten under Dad’s thumb. I wouldn’t have been offered up to him as the prize for his loyalty. Silas wouldn’t have been stuck with her either.”

Camille blames Margaret for all the misfortune of her and Silas’s lives. Margaret is a classic antagonist, and though she didn’t directly force Ben and Camille to marry or Silas to marry her, her choices serve as the bedrock of the Everett siblings’ suffering.