It’s easy enough to make wise decisions when things are going well. But it’s less easy to predict what we might do if our world were suddenly turned, as the saying goes, upside down. That seems to be especially true about financial security. People who suddenly find themselves in a financially desperate situation, or a situation they see as desperate, may find themselves doing things they would never consider doing otherwise. Financial desperation adds a severe burden of stress and can completely change one’s perspective on “the right thing to do.” In crime fiction it can be a motive for murder but even when it isn’t, that kind of desperation can add suspense and a layer of character development to a story.
For example, in Agatha Christie’s Taken at the Flood (AKA There is a Tide), we meet the members of the Cloade family. They’ve always depended on patriarch Gordon Cloade for financial security and he’s always promised his younger brothers and sister and their families that they would never need to worry. But then, everyone’s shocked when Cloade gets married to the much-younger Rosaleen Underhay. He and his new bride have only been married a few weeks when Cloade is tragically killed in a wartime bomb blast. Now the Cloade family is faced with a real financial problem: Gordon Cloade died intestate. So his widow Rosaleen will now inherit his considerable wealth. The Cloades are all accustomed to depending on Gordon Cloade for financial support and now have to face the real prospect of loss of income. Then a possible solution to their problem comes to town in the form of a stranger who says he may have news of interest to them. It seems that Rosaleen Underhay may have been married to someone else at the time of her wedding to Gordon Cloade. If she was, then she was not legally married to Cloade and so, cannot inherit. The visit of this stranger, who calls himself Enoch Arden, throws all of the Cloades, including Rosaleen, into turmoil. Then, Enoch Arden is killed. Hercule Poirot is asked by two members of the Cloade family, on two separate occasions, to look into the matter of the identity of this stranger and he begins an investigation. As he searches for the truth, we see just what financial panic can do to people.
We see that also in Ruth Rendell’s Simisola. That’s the story of the disappearance of Melanie Akande, who went to keep an appointment at the local Employment Bureau and never came back. Her father Raymond Akande is DCI Reg Wexford’s physician, so he asks Wexford to look into the matter. Wexford agrees somewhat reluctantly and begins to ask some questions. Then, Annette Bystock, the jobs counselor with whom Melanie Akande had her appointment, is murdered. Now Wexford and his team begin to concentrate their efforts on the Employment Bureau and we see how the desperate need for money and the stress of being unemployed can weigh on people. When the body of a young woman is found in a nearby wood, Wexford thinks it’s the body of Melanie Akande. It turns out though that it’s not Melanie Akande. Now Wexford and his team have an even more complicated story to unravel. All throughout this story there is the theme of money, of unemployment and of financial desperation. In fact, it even strikes the Wexford family. Wexford’s son-in-law Neil Fairfax loses his job and he and Wexford’s daughter Sylvia have to completely re-think their lives, their relationship and more. Here’s how Neil himself puts it:
“…being unemployed demotes you.”
It’s an astute observation.
There’s also a sense of financial desperation in Rebecca Cantrell’s A Trace of Smoke. Crime reporter Hannah Vogel lives and works in Weimar Republic Berlin, a time of financial desperation and real poverty during the Great Depression. She considers herself very lucky that she’s got a job and doesn’t have to resort to prostitution to be able to buy food, as many women do during that time. When Vogel discovers by accident that her brother Ernst has been murdered, she’s shocked and of course, wants to know what happened to him. But she’s in a very delicate situation. She and Ernst lent their identity papers to some Jewish friends to allow them to leave Germany. Her papers haven’t yet been returned to her, so she can’t call any more attention to herself than is absolutely necessary. Still, she goes to work very quietly, looking into Ernst’s murder and trying to find out what she can. She gets another surprise when a young boy named Anton, who claims to be Ernst’s son, shows up on her doorstep, saying she is his mother. Vogel knows that’s not true but she takes Anton in and does her best to feed him and take care of him. That includes pawning some jewellery to get what money she can. As it turns out, Ernst Vogel wasn’t murdered for money, but throughout this novel, we see just how financially desperate people are, and how the burgeoning Nazi Party uses this desperation for its own ends.
In Walter Mosley’s A Red Death, which takes place in the early 1950’s, former aeroplane mechanic Ezekiel “Easy” Rawlins finds himself in a very desperate financial situation. He did a “favour” for a friend, for which he earned quite a lot of money on which he never paid taxes. He gets a letter from Internal Revenue Service (IRS) agent Reginald Lawrence claiming that he owes the IRS thousands of dollars in back taxes and threatening Rawlins with imprisonment if he doesn’t pay. Rawlins can’t pay, and he’s sure that he’s bound for prison. Thenl he’s given an unexpected way out. FBI agent Darryl Craxton offers to make Rawlins’ tax problems go away. In return, Rawlins must agree to help the FBI bring down a suspected communist named Chaim Wenzler, who’s a former member of the Polish Resistance. Wenzler does volunteer work at the First African Baptist Church, so the plan is for Rawlins to do the same and get close to Wenzler. Rawlins has no way out of this situation, so he agrees. But matters get extremely difficult for him when he gets to know Wenzler and finds he actually likes the man. Then, two bodies are found in the church, and since Rawlins was there at the time of the murders, he’s a prime suspect. Now he has to find out who the real killer is before he’s jailed himself. Rawlins finds himself in this situation in part because he’s caught, as the saying goes, between a rock and hard place financially.
And then there’s Andrea Camilleri’s The Shape of Water. In that novel, the body of Vigatà businessman and politician Silvio Lupanello is found in The Pasture, a notorious area outside of town. One of the men who find the body is Baldassare “Saro” Montaperto, who gets a small salary for helping to clean up trash at The Pasture. Saro finds more than he bargained for when he discovers a valuable necklace near the place where Luparello’s body is found. Instead of turning the necklace over to the police, which is what he’s supposed to do, or to Gegè Gullotta, who runs The Pasture, Saro keeps the necklace. Ordinarily, Saro isn’t a thief, but he has a desperately ill son and very little money – certainly not enough for the boy’s medical treatment. Inspector Salvo Montalbano and his team investigate Luparello’s murder and in the process, find that the necklace could be an important piece of evidence. Montalbano finds out that Saro took the necklace and why, and comes up with a very clever way to recover the necklace and still make sure that Saro’s son gets the treatment he needs. It’s an interesting sub-plot to this novel.
Just about all of us probably have a point of financial desperation at which we would do things that we’d never consider doing otherwise. When that happens in crime fiction, it can make for a solid layer of tension, an interesting sub-plot, and a good motive for murder.
*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Ray Charles’ Hard Times (No One Knows Better Than I). The Eric Clapton version of this song is terrific, too.













Money makes the world go round, the world go round, the world go round…
My apologies for not commenting more, Margot – please know I’m here reading every day.
Elspeth – No need to apologise for not commenting; I’m honoured that you read my blog as often as you do. And you are quite right about money. It’s not even (always) a matter of greed; it’s just that so much in today’s world revolves around access to at least some money. It’s a serious source of stress. Oh, and thanks for reminding me of that excellent musical!
Margot: In Tapas on the Ramblas by Anthony Bidulka all attention is focused on 80 year old Charity Wiser, the wealthy matriarch of a meat packing family, who has commanded her family to join her on a Mediterranean cruise. The source of her command is her control of the family money.
Bill – I’m so glad you mentioned Tapas on the Ramblas. It’s a prime example of what I had in mind when I wrote this post. All of the family members want to be free of her control and as you say, it’s all financial. And what I thought worked quite well abbout the novel was that Bidulka portrays that sense of desperation in subtle ways. And of course, some not-so-subtle ones, too. He does an effective job of depicting the interactions among the family members too.
Good post. How many classic mysteries revolve around family members staying in the good graces of the family matriarch or patriarch so they can financially survive? And then someone cracks, if they fear disinheritance or are overly greedy or are desperate. Agatha Christie must have used this theme many times.
And then there are so many characters who do desperate things, often without thinking and get in way over their heads. This is the stuff of crime fiction. Having sick children would be a big motivator for committing desperate acts or sick parents.
The Shape of Water was very good, and this post may persuade me to read A Trace of Smoke, although I avoid WWII novels and I will put A Red Death on my TBR list.
Kathy – You’re right that Christie uses that thing of being desperate for money quite often. It’s interesting too that she explores that theme from different points of view and with different kinds of characters, some appealing and some…not.
You also have a well-taken point about the desperate things people will do in real life and in crime fiction when they have situations such as a desperately ill family member or some other such crisis. Those things really do have a way of making people terrified.
I hope you’ll like A Trace of Smoke; interestingly enough, it’s not really about WWII although the Nazi Party does play a role in it. It’s a very well-written novel. And so is A Red Death. I recommend both.
the global financial crisis has proved a rich source for crime plots (pity that it isn’t fictional!). Gene Kerrigan has written good novels about the impact on Ireland, followed by Alan Glynn and, in her most recent book, Tara French (Broken Harbour). And of course Greece is the scene of books such as Ashes by Sergio Garkas and Che Committed Suicide by Petros Marakaris (and doubtless subsequent novels, not yet translated).
Funnily enough I was thinking about Camilleri’s The Shape of Water yesterday, as I’d just finished reading The Dark Valley by Valerio Varesi, with which it has some elements in common, plot-wise.
Maxine – Right you are about the global financial crisis. And I wish it were fictional, too. It’s hit many countries very hard and Kerrigan and Garkas have done a terrific job depicting it. I must read Broken Harbour, so thanks for the reminder of that. And you’ve got me keen to try the Varesi now you’ve mentioned it has similarities to The Shape of Water. I’ll look forward to your review of it.
Sorry, should have written Tana not Tara French.
No worries, Maxine – I knew what you meant.
Money and inheritance is so often at the heart of a good story, crime-fiction or otherwise. Even Wodehouse, with his harmless but delectable humour, is a victim. His stories often have poor nephews at the mercy of their rich uncles. In Christie’s case, Poirot and Marple often take up cases without considering the “terms” and I have often wondered who pays them in the end. That’s one “often” too many!
Prashant – Oh, you raise an interesting point about who pays when Poirot’s cases are solved. Sometimes it’s clear (e.g. The Mystery of the Blue Train, when Rufus Van Aldin clearly pays). Other times it’s not. And you’re quite right that inheritance and what used to be called “expectations” is a recurring crime-fictional theme. And thanks for mentioning Wodehouse. As I’m sure you know, he and Agatha Christie were mutual admirers and I really should re-read some of this stuff.
When I first got married, my husband and I were incredibly poor so often I had to find ways to make ends meet. However, now we are doing well and I have a lot of things that I don’t need. If I ever had to go back to the way I was before, it would be a shock to the system. I can see what it would do to the characters in a novel. Although we often don’t like to see the rich or those with means to succeed–especially when we’re suffering–I could imagine it would be hard to lose everything as much as it would be when you have nothing to immediately have everything you want. A shock to the system.
Clarissa – Oh, you put that so well! Losing everything really is a shock to the system. Even if one’s had nothing at one point, it’s very easy to get accustomed to little comforts. Not to have them is very scary, so I can see too how someone might be pushed over that line of desperation by loss (or even the threat of loss really) of everything. I’m glad your family is doing well financially, but since you’ve had those times, I think you and folks like you can understand what it’s like to have to scrabble just to eat and pay the bills.
Money, whether it’s the lack of or the desire just to have more, does make for such interesting layers in a story. I’ve noticed in several books I’ve read lately that while the lack of money was not the problem, the difficult economic times were mentioned and in some cases seen as a threat of what could happen. Great post.
Mason
Thoughts in Progress
Mason – Thank you
You’re quite right too that even when individual characters aren’t themselves desperate for money, bad economic times are enough to be really frightening. And yes, that definitely can add suspense to a novel.
I didn’t read the book, but saw the movie Seabiscuit. It’s really a movie about the Great Depression. Realistically, it showed formerly wealthy families living in Hooverville shacks, after they’d lost everything. Laura Hillenbrand did a great job describing that period, picked up so well in the movie.
Kathy – Oh, interesting point. Many, many people lost everything during the Great Depression. Yes, even formerly very wealthy people ended up living in Hoovervilles.
There’s a big wide line between desperation and greed when it comes to committing crimes because of financial problems. I suspect desperation leads to theft or suicide more often than murder. Greed, on the other hand, can be downright scary.
Pat – Now, that’s an interesting point! Your comment is making me think of Victor Hugo’s classic Les Misérables, where desperation drives Jean Valjean. You could very well be right that desperation can be a motive for theft. And yes, greed – true greed – is frightening.