Revenge of the Adventurer! 25.

"Galliard!" Barton exclaimed, "Is that a gun?"
"Yes. I bought it from a man in London who ships these things in. So useful for MURDER. You see, someone calling himself 'The Adventurer' has been stalking me, threatening me. He killed my script-writer and tried to kill my leading actors. Imagine the reaction when they find that it was you. That YOU were driven mad by what I did to your beloved character, so that you thought you were him and you tried to kill to keep him from being betrayed by my film. I invited you here to talk, but you came here to kill me. We fought, and your gun went off in the struggle, killing you. And then, of course, out of respect for you, I'll cancel the film. So sad, a successful author driven mad..."
"Save the speeches for the judge. Or in your case the prison psychiatrist," I said, throwng open the door.
"The Girl in Grey!" Galliard exclaimed. "I..."
"You slipped up. You see, your hired monkeys at the barge paid a whole lot more attention to me than they did to you. If they'd gone to the barge to kill you, they could have dumped me over the side and finished the job. Instead they paid a whole lot of attention to me and went no-where near you. Conclusion, they were looking for me, not you. Just one of the cluse you left that I followed right back to you.
"You're a successful film-maker, Galliard, yet the script for the film was apalling. Horrible. Beyond a joke. You must have known the film wouldn't sell, yet you were going to make it. Why? There was only one reason. Your pathalogical hatred for John Barton and everything he stands for. This was an elaborate plan to destroy him from the very beginning, not a film! You're obsessed with destroyng him! You saw him succeed in the 1960s and '70s, and your lack of success made you jealous. You let that jealousy eat you up from the inside, twist you and warp you and send you insane!" I had my whip held ready. "Drop that gun, Galliard."
"No! I will destroy John Barton!"

"With me as a witness? With the police already on their way?"
"I've won! You can't take that away from me!" Galliard protested.
"No, Galliard, you've lost," I told him sternly and bluntly. "You've destroyed yourself. You could make films, and you made them quite well, but you allowed this hatred to destroy you. Your vey obsession with John Barton ensures that, in the end, HE has won!"
"I can still kill him!" Galliard whirled on his heel, gun in hand. "I can kill you!"
I didn't have time to use me whip to disarm him. He fired, and I dodged too late. The bullet struck me in the right arm. I dropped my whip.
"You're too late!" Galliard crowed in mad triumph.