Gone-Girl-by-Gillian-Flynn

Amy put in where she’s hidden something that will … I don’t know,
exonerate you?’
‘I think that’s it. Yes, Amy is using a Madness song to give me a clue to
my own freedom, if only I can decipher their wily, ska-infused codes.’
Go laughed then too. ‘Jesus, maybe we’re the ones who are bat-shit crazy.
I mean, are we? Is this totally insane?’
‘It’s not insane. She set me up. There is no other way to explain the
warehouse of stuff in your backyard. And it’s very Amy to drag you into it,
smudge you a little bit with my filth. No, this is Amy. The gift, the fucking
giddy, sly note I’m supposed to understand. No, and it has to come back to the
puppets. Try the quote with the word marionettes.’
I collapsed on the couch, my body a dull throb. Go played secretary. ‘Oh
my God. Duh! They’re Punch and Judy dolls. Nick! We’re idiots. That line,
that’s Punch’s trademark. That’s the way to do it!’
‘Okay. The old puppet show – it’s really violent, right?’ I asked.
‘This is so fucked up.’
‘Go, it’s violent, right?’
‘Yeah. Violent. God, she’s fucking crazy.’
‘He beats her, right?’
‘I’m reading … okay. Punch kills their baby.’ She looked up at me. ‘And
then when Judy confronts him, he beats her. To death.’
My throat got wet with saliva.
‘And each time he does something awful and gets away with it, he says,
“That’s the way to do it!”’ She grabbed Punch and placed him in her lap, her
fingers grasping the wooden hands as if she were holding an infant. ‘He’s
glib, even as he murders his wife and child.’
I looked at the puppets. ‘So she’s giving me the narrative of my frameup.’
‘I can’t even wrap my brain around this. Fucking psycho.’
‘Go?’
‘Yeah, right: You didn’t want her to be pregnant, you got angry and killed
her and the unborn baby.’
‘Feels anticlimactic somehow,’ I said.