The Butcher Game

“Now, seeing confirmation of Jeremy’s degeneration into a true psychopath, Philip wonders what comes next. It’s bad enough to have someone out there who holds intimate knowledge of his deepest indiscretions, but it’s truly disconcerting to have that person be as unpredictable as Jeremy, especially when he has very little to lose and a lot to destroy.”

Philip armchair diagnoses Jeremy as a psychopath based on his memory of Morgan Davies’s killing and Jeremy’s more recent spree of murders. This passage is an example of irony (Philip is also a murderer like Jeremy) and foreshadowing (Jeremy will soon arrive back in Philip’s life, as he predicts).

“Their presence signals a delicate message, showing that something can thrive and adapt even if it’s surrounded by death.”

Wren’s relationship to plants (such as the resurrection ferns and Jeremy’s abandoned houseplants) illustrates her relationship to the desire to live. She views herself as a survivor, like the plants, and even while surrounded by death in the autopsy suite, she can “thrive.”

“He ignores them and takes note of a sound he hears in the vast swath of nothingness. It’s water. This place is different from Louisiana, that’s for sure. But the tactics and techniques to conquer it are similar.”

Jeremy’s use of the verb “conquer” to describe his relationship to the forest is indicative of his desire to exert power over nature like he exerts power over his victims. Though he’s out of his familiar bayou, he’s still capable of causing destruction to the world and people around him.

“This plant survived him. It didn’t ask to be in this house, but he brought it in here anyways and despite all of his best efforts, it’s thriving. Does that sound like anyone you know, Muller?”

Again, Wren is compared to a plant that survives. Jeremy attempted to drown the plant’s root system to infect it with root rot, just as he attempted to murder Wren. However, Wren and the plant live. Wren’s connection to the natural world is thus the inverse of Jeremy’s: Jeremy seeks to control and destroy, while Wren seeks to save and survive.

“She has willingly stepped into a carnival of trauma, and the regret creeps in like a slow gas leak.”

The use of the phrase “carnival of trauma” to describe how Wren feels about returning to Jeremy’s house and bayou foreshadows Jeremy’s violence at the abandoned fairgrounds in Great Barrington—a location of a past carnival that will now become the site of the horrible shock that Wren will experience when she realizes that Jeremy has targeted Richard.

“The site feels like a spectacle already. It’s a blank canvas of disturbing backstories and local lore, and it’s just waiting for him to paint it red.”

Jeremy’s murderous ethos is heavy on spectacle; he meticulously stages posed bodies, symbols, and hidden messages at his crime scenes. His desire to create a theatrically intense hell in Great Barrington connects to his obsession with Wren, whom he wants to lure closer and torment.

“The only thing that raises Wren’s eyebrow a bit is seeing how many women seem to appreciate his…guidance. They fawn over him like a rock star, leaving hearts on photos and gushing about his proximity to the divine. It makes Wren consider Kathryn’s position a little more carefully. It seems as if there is something a little dirty about this shepherd.”

Wren’s suspicion of Philip demonstrates her powerful professional insight, which is augmented by increased vigilance and anxiety. She immediately clocks that Philip is not the holy pastor he pretends to be. This foreshadows Philip’s ability to use his role as a Christian authority figure to hide his violent crimes.

“Like a visitor sneaking through a briefly open but typically secured door, he enters a place he shouldn’t have access to otherwise. It’s a uniquely voyeuristic experience, watching someone turn into the husk we all eventually become.”

Jeremy’s thoughts as he kills the Tytus Mansion victims clarify that his motivations for murder are rooted in control. He wants power over when and how his victims die, and he also wants to rob them of the dignity of a peaceful death by invading their final moments as a violent voyeur.

“His house was always surrounded by magnolia trees, and he had specifically loved the long-lasting blooms that carried into the autumn months. They were always one of the last ones to give in to the seasons’ metaphorical hourglass. They stay as long as they want to, and they don’t apologize for it. They maintain their beauty and their delicious scent until the bitter end, never bowing to a forced curtain call.”

Magnolia flowers play an important role in Jeremy’s plan. He intends them as hints: first, to indicate to Wren that he is present in the community, and second, to clue her into his plans for Richard, as magnolias were Wren’s wedding flowers. Jeremy also analyzes the symbolism of the magnolia flowers, further connecting Wren to nature’s strong survival instinct and its persistence. Magnolias live longer than they should, as does Wren in Jeremy’s eyes.

“She feels her whole body ignite in a way she can’t describe. It’s as if everything is telling her this is it and this is where she needs to be to stop him.”

Jeremy thinks that he and Wren are mystically connected because of their killer-victim relationship. Although Wren does not agree with this sentiment, the novel does often posit a bond between the two. Here, Wren seems to sense Jeremy in Massachusetts as her body reacts to his presence. The insistence on this link plays into the harmful trope of victims somehow being “fated” or chosen by murderers.

“Lifting his weapon, he shouts into the stillness, ‘Run, rabbit!’”

Jeremy repeats the same song and command that he gave to Wren in the bayou when he hunts Charlie through the abandoned fairgrounds. Reenacting chasing Wren in this way further illustrates his obsession with her escape.

“She can’t help but wonder who Andrea’s mystery man really is and whether he was the one who brutalized her. She shakes her head, trying to focus on what is in front of her, but as much as she tries to dismiss her lingering questions along with Esme’s warning, they haunt her.”

The use of the word “haunt” to describe Wren’s feelings matches how she views her role as a forensic pathologist: She believes that the dead speak to her as she investigates their deaths. Here, she feels as though Andrea is trying to reach her, begging her to solve her murder. This passage foreshadows Wren’s investigation into Philip’s role in Richard’s and Andrea’s deaths in the next installment of the series.

“Her eyes flick around helplessly, looking up to the endless expanse of brightly lit stars above them.”

Jeremy’s connection to nature is clear in his appreciation of aesthetics during his murder of Charlie. Jeremy often relishes the dichotomy between the violence of his kills and the beauty of the natural world around him; here, his description of the reflection of the sky in Charlie’s dying eyes is almost poetic. The same contrast happens when Wren looks at the carving of a bracelet that Jeremy makes on a victim’s wrist; Wren describes it as both disgusting and beautiful.

“Years of repression and guilt seem to trickle out from behind his eyes as he tries to argue. When he breaks away from their standoff, he leaves a heaviness in the air. ‘I wanted to get her help. She could have been helped, Jeremy. You ended both of our lives in an instant.’”

Jeremy believes that Philip embodies Christian repression, guilt, and shame because of his role as a pastor. Jeremy’s perception of religion is linked to his childhood abuse at the hands of his mother, who wanted to instill shame in him via biblical pronouncements, so he thinks Philip is ashamed of his role in Morgan’s death. However, Jeremy’s conviction clouds his judgment, and he misses that Philip merely pretends to be an upstanding member of the community to hide his own violence.

“She sees another hummingbird, followed by its friend. They hover over the bushes, drinking greedily. Almost as fast as they appeared, they are both gone. They show up quickly, take without judgment, and move with unmatched speed and grace. Then, when they are done, they leave without ever having to explain why. She wishes she were a hummingbird.”

Nature imagery connects Wren and Jeremy. While Jeremy wants to make nature bend to his will, Wren views nature as a sanctuary that she wishes she could slip away into. She wants to be a hummingbird or a resurrection fern—creatures that are part of a surviving ecosystem free from the violence and depravity of Jeremy’s games.

“Jeremy had become an experienced outdoorsman by his early teens and had easily adapted from the swampy bayou to the unfamiliar spookiness of Massachusetts woodlands. There are always commonalities in nature, but it was those stark differences between the two areas that really intrigued him.”

Jeremy’s skill in the outdoors and his adaptability to his environment play an important role in his success as the Bayou Butcher, as he uses his knowledge of nature against his victims. He knows the landscape, while they do not, which results in his advantage during the games he constructs. He welcomes the differences in landscape as he moves north, seeing them as something to add further excitement to his murderous hunts.

“Small, local departments always think they know best. The lack of communication and unwillingness to cooperate is always incredibly frustrating.”

Wren’s perception of insular small police departments and their gatekeeping around murder cases is indicative of Urquhart’s background as a true crime podcast host. Urquhart has researched many real murders in small communities, and her opinion here is the result of learning about investigatory mistakes and mishandling brushed under the rug.

“It’s Sodom and Gomorrah, but it’s the store-brand version.”

Jeremy references the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, which, in the Old Testament of the Bible, are destroyed by God for their wickedness. His joke that the party at the lake is a sad imitation of real sin points to the knowledge that he plans to murder an innocent partygoer—Jeremy sees himself as an actual avatar of evil and thus brushes off the minor infractions of the drunken partiers that uptight adults may view with opprobrium.

“Something strange about Philip’s reaction strikes Jeremy. It seems genuine enough, but there is something studied about his actions, as if he’s in a play. Maybe Philip doesn’t understand his own feelings about what he has been a part of—but his outrage feels forced somehow.”

Jeremy senses that Philip is not as innocent and upright as he seems, but Jeremy’s obsession with Wren leads him to ignore these clues and continue forward with a plan that hinges on Philip’s loyal participation. Jeremy tries to justify his suspicion of Philip as a sign of Philip’s lacking psychological insight—another way to self-aggrandize, as Jeremy believes himself to be completely self-actualized and self-aware and thus superior to those around him.

“Wren stands a few stairs above Leroux, gazing down at the wilted blooms under their feet. Something about them feels familiar, but they’re too decayed for her to place them.”

The magnolias, which represent Wren’s wedding flowers, have decayed at Jeremy’s crime scene. Just as he has polluted the serenity of the cemeteries that Wren used to find peaceful, so, too, does he seek to re-associate Wren’s happiness about her marriage with death and rot. Jeremy wants to destroy everything about Wren’s life before killing her, including her understanding of magnolias as the flowers that symbolize her ability to survive.

“He flips the knife expertly in his hand, but before he can move to use it, Richard swipes a piece of broken glass from the shattered candle and slices at Jeremy’s face.”

Richard subverts Jeremy’s desire for power during their physical struggle. Jeremy thinks he has full control over Richard, but Richard manages to cut Jeremy deeply in the face while also telling him that his impact on Wren’s life is minimal. The physical and emotional cuts both hurt Jeremy, illustrating the fragility of Jeremy’s sense of self.

“The tenuous thread that bound them together is unraveling before his eyes.”

Just as Jeremy views himself as connected to Wren, so, too, does he feel connected to Philip because of their shared murderous past. However, this bond has been entirely constructed in Jeremy’s mind, as Philip has been working with the police all along to betray him.

“He went back to the hearth in the woods—where so many years ago he had cried and carried on like a wounded doe—and he moved her. That’s why he agreed to everything. He knew they would never find his secret because he made it unfindable.”

Jeremy’s description of Philip as a “wounded doe” connects to Jeremy’s perception of himself as a hunter and predator and his victims as his prey. He has imagined Philip as weak and feminine (comparing him to a “doe”—a specifically female deer), as he seemed distraught by Morgan’s death. Jeremy has little inkling that Philip has also become a predator.