It’s Shakespeare’s fault that I spend countless hours wrestling with crime fiction plots instead of enjoying post show drinks with my fellow actors. If not for his mastery of human drama and the twisted brilliance of Hamlet, I might have stuck to the stage instead of taking my obsession with betrayal and revenge into the world of private investigators and murder mysteries.
Alas, here I am, pen in hand, or rather my fingers tapping the keyboard of my laptop, unraveling the dark corners of the human psyche, as I draft The Shard of Perfection, the third book in my Neil Ames, PI mystery series, and it’s all thanks to Will.
Among literary works, few rival Shakespeare’s Hamlet in its exploration of the universal themes of truth and justice. But it was this inspiration that made me send my protagonist, Neil Ames, PI, to the ultimate dark night of the soul as he continues his relentless pursuit of justice for his murdered fiancée, Emily Granger.
At the heart of both Neil’s story and Hamlet lies the torment of doubt. Hamlet is driven by the ghost of his father, whose appearance forces Hamlet to grapple with the possibility that the world around him is steeped in lies. The possibility that Neil’s understanding of Emily and their love—a love he’d grieved so intensely—was false, now torments Neil with vivid nightmares and the searing pain of PTSD flashbacks, each one a fresh wound.
In The Dyeing Process and The Four-Bar Progression, each case brought Neil closer to understanding the dark forces at play, all while wrestling with his grief and a deep-seated sense of guilt. In The Shard of Perfection, however, Neil discovers new information that cracks the veneer of certainty he’s clung to. Like Hamlet confronting the possibility that his uncle Claudius is not only a murderer but a usurper of the throne, Neil begins to question whether the woman he so idealized was as innocent as he believed.
The shattering of illusion is central to both stories. Hamlet famously says, “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” Neil finds the shards of his once perfect love, reflecting painful truths about Emily and himself.
Was she the victim he believed her to be, or was she complicit in the crimes he has been working to expose? Did Neil’s grief blind him to signs he should have seen? The answers are elusive, and the search for them forces him to confront not only external dangers but also the ghosts of his own choices and failures.
Much like Hamlet’s indecision, Neil’s questioning is not merely about solving a mystery but about uncovering what justice truly means. Is justice served by punishing the guilty, or does it require understanding the motives and circumstances that led to the crime? Neil, like Hamlet, is driven by the need for truth, but truth comes at a cost. It strips away comfort and certainty, leaving behind a stark and brutal reality.
Neil’s story and Hamlet are alike in many ways, especially in the relationships. Hamlet’s relationships with Ophelia, Gertrude, and even Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are fraught with betrayal and disillusionment. In The Shard of Perfection, Neil’s bond with Penelope, a young woman searching for her missing mother, mirrors the fraught connection between Hamlet and Ophelia. Penelope’s trust in Neil and her resourcefulness become critical as the story unfolds, but her presence also complicates Neil’s understanding of his past—and her connection to Emily adds another layer of emotional complexity to Neil’s search for truth.
And then there’s Octavia Clarke, a savvy and striking nightclub owner with connections to the shadowy Yuu International Holdings. Her sharp instincts and no-nonsense approach make her Neil’s “Horatio.” Octavia survived a brutal attack in the previous book, The Four-Bar Progression, and her resilience is on full display as she defies doctor’s order to be by Neil’s side. Wielding both her cane and her razor-sharp wit, Octavia has a gift for extracting the truth from even the most reticent of suspects. Her unwavering loyalty and clear-eyed perspective are vital as Neil spirals deeper into the deadly labyrinth of deception and betrayal.
Ultimately, what makes Neil’s story so compelling—and so Shakespearean—is the way it balances the personal and the universal. The questions Neil grapples with are not just about solving a crime or avenging a loss. They’re about identity, unreliable memories, and what justice costs in a screwed-up world. Like Hamlet, Neil is a character whose flaws make him human, and whose journey resonates because it forces us to confront our own doubts and fears.
As I write, I’m prodded by the idea that perfection itself is an illusion. Emily, for Neil, was a symbol of everything good and true in his life. Her death—and the quest to find her killer—gave him purpose in the wake of his grief. But as he uncovers the shards of her true self, Neil comes to realize that the search for truth is far messier than he ever imagined. It is not about restoring a perfect image but about accepting the imperfections and contradictions that make us who we are.
For Neil, as for Hamlet, the journey is as much about understanding himself as it is about uncovering the truth. And in that journey, readers will find a reflection of their own struggles with doubt, love, and the pursuit of justice in an imperfect world.
Well, that’s what I tell myself. Let’s see if I can pull it off.
But for now, as I sit here writing, I can almost hear Shakespeare’s raspy chuckle, a ghostly accompaniment to the clicking of my keyboard. His twisted mind gave us Hamlet, and now mine spins its own storms of deception, betrayal, and revenge. Cheers to you, Will—you’ve ruined my social life but gifted me the perfect excuse for why I think like a villain.
Check out the Neil Ames, PI Mystery Series here. #writerslife #crimefiction