In Chap­ter 43 of We Solve Mur­ders, Max High­field finds him­self nes­tled in the lux­u­ri­ous sur­round­ings of a grand library, an envi­ron­ment he now feels he belongs to, unlike in the past. The library is vast, with shelves that reach from floor to ceil­ing, and large win­dows let­ting in nat­ur­al light. The room is filled with an air of sophis­ti­ca­tion, with dark oak fur­ni­ture and green leather accents, cre­at­ing a refined and wel­com­ing atmos­phere. Over­head, grand chan­de­liers and brass read­ing lamps add to the ele­gance, mak­ing it a per­fect set­ting for qui­et reflec­tion or intel­lec­tu­al pur­suits. As Max looks around, he imag­ines how this opu­lent space could be trans­formed into some­thing more per­son­al, per­haps a pool or gym area, should it ever be his own. The con­trast between his past and present high­lights his evolv­ing sense of self and the new lifestyle he’s embraced.

Max even­tu­al­ly seeks out Henk, who is relaxed on a plush leather sofa, deeply engrossed in a med­ical jour­nal. Their con­ver­sa­tion starts off casu­al­ly, touch­ing on the philoso­pher Spin­oza, whom Henk argues played an essen­tial role in the works of influ­en­tial thinkers like Kant and Goethe. Max express­es his appre­ci­a­tion for Henk’s time, reflect­ing on the strug­gles he’s fac­ing at his cur­rent agency, and reit­er­at­ing his com­mit­ment to stay true to his prin­ci­ples. As they dis­cuss these top­ics, the tone is light, with philo­soph­i­cal mus­ings on life’s com­plex­i­ties inter­spersed with friend­ly ban­ter. Henk’s detached yet thought­ful respons­es show a man who nav­i­gates the world with calm insight. The dis­cus­sion deep­ens, and Max feels a grow­ing sense of con­nec­tion, both pro­fes­sion­al­ly and per­son­al­ly, with Henk. This dia­logue high­lights their cama­raderie, set against the back­drop of intel­lec­tu­al dis­course and per­son­al strug­gles.

The con­ver­sa­tion takes a more seri­ous turn as Max brings up Jeff, a fig­ure from his past whose death has had lin­ger­ing effects on him. Henk, show­ing lit­tle emo­tion toward Jeff’s fate, offers a philo­soph­i­cal view that peo­ple who live by the sword often meet grim ends. Max light­ens the mood by mak­ing a play­ful ref­er­ence to a film he starred in, Die by the Sword, a humor­ous attempt to defuse the somber nature of the top­ic. He then shifts the dis­cus­sion to his own safe­ty, express­ing con­cern for his well-being in the wake of mount­ing threats. Max pro­pos­es a lucra­tive deal to Henk, offer­ing him a two-mil­lion-per-year ambas­sador­ship role, empha­siz­ing the impor­tance of hav­ing full secu­ri­ty cov­er­age. The nego­ti­a­tion high­lights Max’s will­ing­ness to secure his future, mak­ing it clear that he is not just focused on imme­di­ate con­cerns, but on long-term sta­bil­i­ty as well. The inter­ac­tion sub­tly under­scores Max’s need for reas­sur­ance, whether through his busi­ness ven­tures or per­son­al safe­ty.

As their dis­cus­sion con­tin­ues, Max hands Henk a dis­turb­ing card that reads, “You’re dead.” This card serves as a tan­gi­ble sym­bol of the threats against Max, fur­ther­ing his unease and the ten­sion of the sit­u­a­tion. Henk acknowl­edges the pos­si­bil­i­ty that Max’s cur­rent agency may not be doing enough to pro­tect him, sug­gest­ing that it may be time to explore more reli­able options. The con­ver­sa­tion shifts to the after­math of Jeff’s death, with Max con­firm­ing that clients are increas­ing­ly seek­ing Henk’s ser­vices. Their light­heart­ed ban­ter, infused with ref­er­ences to Max’s past film roles, serves as a way to cope with the dark­er under­tones of their con­ver­sa­tion. It’s a reminder that even in the most seri­ous of moments, humor can act as a cop­ing mech­a­nism and a means of main­tain­ing con­trol.

Feel­ing sat­is­fied with the direc­tion of their con­ver­sa­tion, Max decides to for­mal­ize a con­tract with Henk, ensur­ing that their part­ner­ship will be ben­e­fi­cial mov­ing for­ward. As he pre­pares to leave, Max notices an elder­ly woman in the cor­ner of the room, qui­et­ly sob­bing as she reads about grief. Moved by her dis­tress, Max approach­es and offers her an auto­graph in a ges­ture of kind­ness, only to be met with the real­iza­tion that she doesn’t rec­og­nize him. This brief yet poignant encounter high­lights the com­plex­i­ties of human emo­tions and con­nec­tions. It serves as a reminder that grief, no mat­ter the con­text, is deeply per­son­al and not always alle­vi­at­ed by fame or recog­ni­tion. As Max leaves the library, he is left reflect­ing on his own emo­tion­al expres­sions and the ways in which peo­ple con­nect with one anoth­er, under­scor­ing the theme of human vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty amidst his oth­er­wise cal­cu­lat­ed world.