Lethal and Lucid Witnesses

Lately I have been thinking of a book I have not thought about for a long time. I read it over the Christmas / New Year of 2001/2002. I bought it on a return trip from Cornwall back to Brighton. I couldn't quite remember what it was called, but I remember it affected me quite deeply. Held me mesmerised if you like. Which is strange because (until today) I couldn't remember a thing about it, even the title. Nearly. This morning, half asleep, half lost in dreams and waiting for the alarm to go off it came to me, The School of Night. Despite the fact that the book affected me quite deeply, I couldn't remember very much about it at all. A murder? A university town.
I could remember the finals sentence though.
Lethal and lucid witnesses.
It was those four words that had stayed with me over the years. Meaningless in themselves, but still they haunted me, as certain words do sometimes.
Over a cold lunchtime today, I wondered into one of the numerous second hand shops down the North Laine, and there - I recognised it straight away. The School of Night.
An odd coincidence. I flicked to the last page and read that last paragraph, those haunting words lethal and lucid witnesses.
And I put the book back on the shelf and walked back out into the cold midday hour of Sydney Street.