Category Archives: Angela Savage

You’re A Sad Sight, Honey, But You Look So Cute*

RidiculousWe usually think of fictional sleuths as brave, and very often they are. But well-drawn sleuths are also quite human. And that means that they have moments, as we all do, of feeling, well, not at all confident. For some people, speaking in public brings on that ‘I’m a complete idiot’ feeling. For others, it’s dressing in a certain way when they’re accustomed to dressing another way. There are other things too of course that make people feel that kind of anxiety. It happens to all of us, and it’s no different for sleuths.

As Agatha Christie fans will know, her Captain Arthur Hastings is not one to call a lot of attention to himself. He’s got a strong sense of what counts as ‘the proper thing to do’ and doesn’t like behaving in any other way. But every once in a while, his work with Hercule Poirot means that he has to do things that completely go against the grain for him. And that makes him feel ridiculous. For example, in Dumb Witness (AKA Poirot Loses a Client), Poirot and Hastings investigate the suspicious death of wealthy Miss Emily Arundell. She has several family members who are desperate for their share of her fortune. To add to that, she changed her will shortly before her death so as to leave practically everything to her companion Wilhelmina Lawson. So there is no shortage of suspects in this case. At one point, Poirot and Hastings visit the victim’s niece Theresa Arundell, who has more than one motive for murder. Poirot is sure that Theresa and her brother are not telling everything they know, so after he and Hastings leave, Poirot wants to sneak back and eavesdrop. Hastings of course is horrified at the thought, but has no choice except to go along. He certainly feels idiotic and embarrassed about it though.

In Kate Atkinson’s One Good Turn, we are introduced to mystery novelist Martin Canning. His literary agent has persuaded him to participate in an author panel during the Edinburgh Arts Festival, so he’s in town for that event. During his trip, he witnesses an accident between a Honda and a Toyota. The two drivers get into a serious argument that ends with Toyota driver Paul Bradley coming close to being killed. Canning throws his computer case at the Honda driver just in time to prevent that happening, and ends up getting drawn into a case of multiple murder for his trouble. Canning is by nature a shy, introverted sort of person as many writers are. He’s not comfortable in public and certainly not when he feels ‘on display.’ His saving Paul Bradley happens almost by instinct; so at first, he doesn’t think much about it. Far worse in his mind is the upcoming literary event at which he’ll actually have to interact with readers face to face. If you’re that sort of author – the introverted sort – you’ll know how idiotic that makes Canning feel.

Lilian Jackson Braun’s James ‘Qwill’ Qwilleran is a journalist who’s not afraid of talking to people. In fact, he’s quite good at putting people at their ease. He’s by no means cowardly by nature. But in The Cat Who Went Into the Closet, he faces a very difficult challenge: serving as Santa Claus in the town Christmas parade. In ways, it’s even harder for him than solving two murders. In one plot thread of this novel, local department store owner Larry Lanspeak is slated to play that role; but when an injury sidelines him, someone else has to step in. At first, Qwill outright refuses. But he’s finally talked into it, and reluctantly takes part in the parade. When it’s over, he finds out he’s also scheduled for a stint with the local children, so they can pose for pictures and tell ‘Santa’ what they want for Christmas. It’s not one of his more confident days…

Barry Maitland’s The Marx Sisters introduces DCI David Brock and DS Kathy Kolla. The two are paired up to investigate what looks at first like a suicide. Meredith Winterbottom lives with her two sisters in a house in London’s Jerusalem Lane. When a large development company wants to buy out the lane for a new project, several residents sell. But Meredith and her sisters refuse. Shortly after that she is found dead. It looks very much like a suicide, but Kolla isn’t sure. So with the ‘green light’ from Brock, she begins to ask questions. At one point, she and Brock have a serious falling-out. Brock knows that although Kolla’s not perfect, their dispute is mostly his fault. So he decides to make amends. He stops by her home with some ‘peace offerings’ and an apology, but at first she’s not having any of it. He certainly feels less than confident standing outside her door with gifts, trying to convince her to open the door and let him in. It’s a very human moment.

In Anthony Bidulka’s Amuse Bouche, successful businessman Harold Chavell hires Saskatoon PI Russell Quant to find his missing fiancé Tom Osborn. The two had planned to marry and then take a honeymoon trip to France, but Osborn disappeared, taking his copy of their itinerary with him. Quant takes the case and ends up going to France, following the itinerary himself, and trying to find out where Osborn is. Then he gets a note indicating that Osborn doesn’t want to be found. That’s when Chavell asks Quant to return to Saskatchewan. Not long afterwards, Osborn’s body is discovered in a lake near a home he and Chavell owned. Chavell of course becomes a suspect in the murder, and asks Quant to keep working for him to clear his name. At one point, Quant and a friend attend a party hosted by Quant’s friend and mentor Anthony Gatt and his partner Jared Lowe. Quant’s fond of both men, but there’s one problem with this party: his outfit. Gatt (who is in the upmarket men’s clothing business) has sent Quant a very trendy, very different sort of outfit, and Quant feels ridiculous wearing it. But, having little choice, he wears it anyway. And as it turns out, he gets some important information at that party.

And then there’s Angela Savage’s The Half Child. Jim Delbeck hires Bangkok-based PI Jayne Keeney to investigate the death of his daughter Maryanne. The official police report is that she committed suicide by jumping from the roof of the building where she lived. But Delbeck is sure his daughter wasn’t suicidal. Keeney travels to Pattaya to look into the case. There, she goes under cover at New Life Children’s Centre, where Maryanne volunteered, to find out as much as she can. And it turns out that there’s more going on at the orphanage than it seems. In the meantime, Keeney is getting accustomed to having a new business partner, Rajiv Patel. He is also her love interest, and that too takes getting used to, as the saying goes. They have their difficult moments, but they do care about each other. Towards the end of the novel, Patel does something very surprising that must have made him feel a little ridiculous. Still, speaking strictly for myself, I think the scene is beautifully done.

So the next time you’re asked to speak in public, or are talked into wearing that outfit to a party, or are picked to wear a silly costume for a parade, remember: you’re not alone. Lots of the best fictional sleuths have been there…
 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this song is a line from Billy Joel’s I Don’t Want to be Alone.

8 Comments

Filed under Agatha Christie, Angela Savage, Anthony Bidulka, Barry Maitland, Kate Atkinson, Lilian Jackson Braun

Why Try to Hide It?

DisguisingMurderorNotMost murderers, real or fictional, don’t want to be caught. So, they take various means to ensure that doesn’t happen. Sometimes for instance, a murderer will construct a well-crafted alibi. Other times, a murderer will frame someone else for the crime. There are many, many crime novels where that happens. I’ll bet you can think of at least as many as I ever could.

But there are cases where the murderer ‘disguises’ a death so that it looks like a natural or accidental death, or like a suicide. Just to give one example, the murderer in Angela Savage’s The Dying Beach disguises the murder of a tour guide as an accidental drowning. And it’s very hard to prove, at least at first, that it wasn’t. And the killer in Alan Orloff’s Diamonds For the Dead covers up a murder to look like an accidental fall down a flight of stairs. And then there’s the murder of a wealthy patriarch in Agatha Christie’s Dead Man’s Mirror that’s made up to look like suicide.

How often does that really happen in crime fiction? You’d think quite a lot, since for most murderers, it’s important not to be caught. I decided to take a look at that question. I chose 213 fictional murders from among my own books. Then I divided them into two groups: murders that are not diguised (i.e. It’s clear immediately that this is a murder) and murders that are disguised (i.e. The murder looks very much like a suicide, an accident or death by natural causes until the sleuth looks more deeply). Here’s what I found.

 

Disguised v Undisguised Murders

As you can see, the vast majority of the murders in my data set (81%) are not disguised. Admittedly, these are books I have personally read. They do not include the myriad books I’ve not read, so this is a limited data set. That said though, it seems pretty clear that a lot of fictional murderers don’t disguise their handiwork.

Still it is interesting to see just how a murder might be covered up. How do fictional killers do that? Here are the results I got when I looked more closely at those 41 ‘disguised’ murders.

 

Disguises Used For Murders

Most of them (63%) were made to look like accidents. And that’s logical when you think about it. It’s easier to fake an accident than to fake a suicide or a natural death (‘though of course, that does happen).

One question that occurred to me was: why not disguise a murder to look like something else? One reason for that may be that a lot of murders are not pre-planned; they are ‘heat of the moment’ killings, or at least deaths that the killer hadn’t intended to commit. In cases like that, the murderer might not think ahead to disguise the crime. I wondered whether that might be the case, so I examined those 172 undisguised fictional murders. Here’s what I found.

 

Planned vs Unplanned Murders

It’s clear that, at least among the fictional murders I looked at, most of them (a full 82%) were pre-planned, at least in the sense that the murderer starts out with the intention to kill the victim. I understand that there are a lot of legal shadings in any discussion of what counts as an intentional killing.

So, among these fictional murders, we can’t really argue that they’re ‘heat of the moment’ killings where the criminal didn’t think ahead to disguise the murder. So why are so many undisguised? In some cases, it’s because the killer wants the death to be obvious, as a warning to others. There are also some situations where the killer has psychological reasons for making the murder(s) obvious. And there are some as well in which the fact of an obvious murder doesn’t necessarily point to a particular person as the culprit. That’s what happens, for instance, in Agatha Christie’s The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, where the victim is stabbed – a clear case of murder – but that fact doesn’t tell the police or Hercule Poirot (at least at first) who committed the crime.

So what can one conclude from all of this? One thing I’ve concluded is that, for a variety of reasons, fictional murderers very often don’t take pains to disguise what they’ve done. At least the ones I looked at here don’t. Another is that in many cases, one reason for that is that an obviously murdered victim doesn’t automatically incriminate one specific person. Another is that the killer has particular reasons for not trying to cover up a murder as something else.

What’s your view on all of this? Do you see a similar pattern in the crime fiction you read? If you’re a crime writer, does your killer disguise the murder(s)? If not, how does your killer try to avoid getting caught?
 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Fleetwood Mac’s My Little Demon.

36 Comments

Filed under Agatha Christie, Alan Orloff, Angela Savage

Happy Ever After in the Market Place*

OutdoorMarketsHave you ever been to an outdoor market or bazaar? They can be great places to find all sorts of things from clothes to music to art, and a lot more besides. There are often food stalls, too (OK, perhaps not the most nutritious food, but still…). If you’ve been to this kind of market than you know that they can be a lot of fun, and sometimes there are some real finds.

Bazaars and outdoor markets also can make very effective backdrops for scenes in crime novels. They’re full of activity and because they’re open-air, a lot of different things can happen in them and still seem credible. They also offer really interesting ways for the author to introduce local culture, local food and so on. Here are just a few examples to show you what I mean.

In Agatha Christie’s short story Jane in Search of a Job, we are introduced to Jane Cleveland, a young woman who thinks she’s found the answer to her financial troubles when she responds to an unusual employment advertisement. After a thorough ‘vetting,’ Jane is hired as a ‘double’ for Her Highness, the Grand Duchess Pauline of Ostrova. The duchess is afraid that revolutionaries from her home country will try to kidnap her, so it’s been agreed that the best thing to do is to hire an impersonator for a few weeks to take her place at certain public events. The arrangement works out well enough at first. Then comes the bazaar at Orion House, which is in aid of Ostrovan refugees. The duchess must appear there herself, since its sponsor knows her personally. But the team looking out for her safety concocts a plan to keep her as well-protected as possible. It’s successful enough at first, but then Jane finds herself in quite a lot more danger than she imagined…

Charlotte Jay’s Arms For Adonis is the story of Sarah Lane, a young English woman who’s living in a village near Beirut with her French lover Marcel. She decides to leave him and packs her things. Then she goes into Beirut where she visits an outdoor market. She’s enjoying looking through the stalls when a bomb goes off. This changes everything for Sarah. Before she really knows what’s happened, she’s rescued – or is it abducted? – and is whisked away to a house she doesn’t know. Her plan had originally been to return to London, but little by little, she finds herself enmeshed in a web of intrigue, revolution and murder.

In Aaron Elkins’ Loot, Boston art expert Benjamin ‘Ben’ Revere gets a call from a friend Simeon Pawlovsky, who owns a pawn shop. Pawlovsky’s just gotten hold of a painting he suspects might be valuable, and he wants Revere’s opinion of it. Revere agrees and goes to the pawn shop. There he discovers to his shock that the painting is very likely a genuine Velázquez. He wants to do a little more background reading on the painting, and he’s worried about Pawlovsky keeping such a valuable piece of art in his shop. But Pawlovsky insists it’ll be safe there for the few hours it will take for Revere to do his research. Reluctantly, Revere agrees and goes to the library to read up on the painting. It turns out that this particular painting was one of a group that was ‘taken for safekeeping’ by the Nazis and then disappeared. This adds a layer of real historical interest to the painting too. Excited about the possibilities, Revere returns to the pawn shop only to find that Pawlovsky’s been murdered. Feeling guilty for abandoning his friend and putting him in that much danger, Revere wants to find out who is responsible. He believes that if he can track the painting’s journey from its last known place among Nazi ‘borrowed’ art to the pawn shop, he can find out who the murderer is. The trail leads Revere to Budapest where it seems that a crime boss named Szarvas has claimed ownership of the painting. Szarvas is, to say the least, not a pleasant or generous person, and there’s a very suspenseful scene in an outdoor market during which Revere tracks Szarvas down and tries to ask him about the painting – and then risks Szarvas’ displeasure.

Martin Walker’s Benoît ‘Bruno’ Courrèges series takes place mostly in the small French town of St. Denis, in the Périgord. Bruno is Chief of Police there, and has gotten to know the people he serves very well. One thing he knows (and values!) about them is their love of good food and good cooking. And like the other local residents, he enjoys St. Denis’ weekly market. Unfortunately for the townspeople, health inspectors from the EU Ministry of Health in Brussels have also taken an interest in the market. The people of the Périgord are no more eager to spread contamination than anyone else is, but they’ve had their own ways of preserving food safety for generations. They have no interest in ‘outsiders’ coming in and telling them how they must prepare, cook, serve and store food. Secretly, Bruno agrees with the locals, but as a police officer, he also has to do his job. As we find out in Bruno, Chief of Police, he has a creative way of striking that very delicate balance. While the ‘market raids’ of the EU inspectors aren’t really the main plot of this novel, they do give readers a look at the outdoor market culture of that area.

Denise Mina’s Garnethill trilogy features Maureen ‘Mauri’ O’Donnell. To put it mildly, O’Donnell hasn’t had an easy time of it. She comes from a severely dysfunctional family and has her share of scars from that experience. She’s also had to deal with other ‘bad breaks’ and in some ways, she’s emotionally quite fragile. But she’s a strong character who’s working out who she’ll be and where she’ll fit in. In Resolution, the third novel in this series, O’Donnell works at a market stall, where she and a friend sell cleaning products. One day, Ella McGee, who sells bootlegged music at another stall, is viciously attacked. O’Donnell is facing her own troubles as she prepares to testify against the person who murdered her former lover. Her family problems haven’t gone away either. But she is willing to pitch in when McGee asks her for help in filling out a complaint form after the attack. To O’Donnell’s surprise, the alleged attacker is McGee’s own son. Soon O’Donnell finds herself getting involved in that case at the same time as she’s trying to work out the rest of her life.

And then there’s Anthony Bidulka’s Date With a Sheesha. In that novel, Pranav Gupta hires Saskatoon PI Russell Quant to find out the truth about the murder of his son Nayan ‘Neil.’ Neil was on a visit to the Middle East, where he was giving guest lectures on antique carpets, and also choosing some valuable samples for the University of Saskatoon’s permanent display. He’d been visiting various homes, markets and so on to find what he wanted. According to the police, he and some friends were in an open-air market in Dubai having an impromptu party when some local thugs attacked and killed him. But his father doesn’t think it was a random murder. He believes that Neil was killed in a hate crime incident because he was gay. Quant isn’t sure that he’ll be able to find out anything that the police couldn’t, but he travels to Dubai to learn what he can. He soon discovers that Neil’s murder wasn’t in the least bit random. Oh, and fans will know that Quant is also involved in a case of open-air-market danger in Tapas on the Ramblas.

Bazaars and open-air markets really can be exciting, and you can find some terrific bargains and unexpected treasures. But as you can see from these few examples (I know, I know, fans of Timothy Hallinan’s and Angela Savage’s work), they can also be dangerous. So do be careful if you find yourself in one of them…
 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from The Beatles’ Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da.

20 Comments

Filed under Aaron Elkins, Agatha Christie, Angela Savage, Anthony Bidulka, Charlotte Jay, Denise Mina, Martin Walker, Timothy Hallinan

You’ll Learn Things You Never Knew You Never Knew*

Questioning AssumptionsOne of the real benefits (at least to me) of reading is that sometimes, what we read challenges our beliefs and invites us to re-think them. Books like that can be a little uncomfortable; it’s not always easy to question our own assumptions about life. But those books are valuable for just that reason. They challenge us to grow and to re-shape the way we think.

Everyone has a different list of authors, series and books that have had that effect – that have helped us to question what we ‘always knew.’ So your mileage, as the saying goes, will vary. But here are a few books and authors whose work has invited me to question what I always thought. And that’s a good thing.

Before I started reading the work of Deon Meyer, I always thought I knew what a thriller was (And I’m not talking here of espionage stories; that’s a different category): an action-packed, adrenaline-loaded book. The characters wouldn’t have a lot of depth and the plot might require some suspension of disbelief, but it could be a fun and exciting literary ride. Meyer’s work has taught me that really fine thrillers have well-drawn characters who act in credible ways. Well-written thrillers also have more depth to the plot than I’d thought before. I’m very glad to have learned that there’s a lot more to this sub-genre than I’d imagined.

I’d never thought of myself as a person who liked science fiction. I could appreciate some science fiction authors’ skilled writing, and there were some novels I liked. But as a genre? Not for me. Well… until a number of years ago when I read Isaac Asimov’s Elijah ‘Lije’ Baley series. Those novels are unquestionably science fiction. Yet they cross the line into crime fiction as well (for those unfamiliar with these novels, Baley is a New York police officer). And that fact tempted me to try the series. I’m very glad I did. I discovered that science fiction has a lot to offer. It invites us to speculate; it encourages us to think of solutions to real problems, and; it can be very well-written. Science fiction characters can be deep, human, and quite memorable, and the plots can be terrific. Just goes to show you how much I ‘knew’ before I read Asimov.

A similar thing happened with my assumptions about post-apocalyptic fiction. I never thought I’d enjoy it. I’m generally not one for that sort of bleak, sometimes despairing, story. So I’ve typically avoided it. Imagine my surprise when I read and enjoyed Alex Scarrow’s Last Light and Afterlight. Those novels take place in a world where the supply of oil has been cut off; so needless to say, it’s a very different world to the one we live in now. The story of how one family tries to make a life after this catastrophe was – surprise! – interesting and engaging, at least to me. There’s also Ben Winters’ trilogy featuring police detective Hank Palace. Imagine me, who ‘always knew’ exactly what post-apocalyptic fiction was about, drawn into a very real, human set of stories.

Does this all mean I’ll ‘click here to purchase’ every new adrenaline-loaded thriller, sci-fi or post-apocalypse novel? No. I’m still cautious about them and in general wouldn’t choose them first. But I am a lot more open to excellent stories told in those ways. Perhaps I can learn…

I’ve also learned about about different people and things that I always ‘knew’ about before. For example, my assumptions about the sex trade have been challenged in the last few years. I thought I knew ‘all about’ why people become commercial sex workers, and why other people hire them. I didn’t. It’s a complex business, and people get into it for a lot of different reasons. The people who engage in the trade are not all cut from the same proverbial cloth, and they don’t all have the same experiences. Work by Angela Savage (Behind the Night Bazaar), John Burdette (e.g. Bangkok 8), Timothy Hallinan (e.g. A Nail Through the Heart) and Jill Edmondson (Dead Light District and Frisky Business) have all invited me to question what ‘I always knew’ about that business.

There’s also the matter of what I always ‘knew’ about Native Americans and First Nations people. I had no idea how much I didn’t know and how much I wrongly assumed until I began to read the work of Tony Hillerman some years ago. I was invited to develop a whole new perspective on a group of people I only thought I understood. I felt the same way after reading Craig Johnson’s Walt Longmire series and Margaret Coel’s Vicky Holden/Fr. John O’Malley series. Oh, and there’s Scott Young’s novels and Stan Jones’, too. All of them have challenged my assumptions in a good way.

I could go on and on about things I’ve learned about history, other countries and so on that I always ‘knew’ before. I think you get the idea without that though. To me anyway, learning to question what I’ve always believed is one of the very good reasons for reading. What about you? Which novels and series have invited you to learn what you always ‘knew?’
 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Stephen Schwartz and Alan Menken’s Colors of the Wind.

28 Comments

Filed under Alex Scarrow, Angela Savage, Ben Winters, Craig Johnson, Deon Meyer, Isaac Asimov, Jill Edmondson, John Burdett, Margaret Coel, Scott Young, Stan Jones, Timothy Hallinan, Tony Hillerman

There Doesn’t Seem to Be Anyone Around*

Remote LocationsCrime fiction fans like their stories to be believable. And in a real-life murder, one of the challenges the killer faces is what to do with the body of the victim. In some cases, the body can be left at the scene of the murder. But in other situations, doing so could point the proverbial finger right at the murderer. For example, if the victim is killed in the murderer’s home or office, suspicion usually falls fairly quickly on the culprit. So the body has to be moved. Modern police forensics testing can determine whether a body’s been moved, but even so, moving a body can make it more challenging in a lot of ways to catch a killer. So of course, fictional murderers take this into account too.

When it’s possible, a lot of killers (at least fictional ones) like remote and inaccessible places. Even if the body is discovered at some point, enough time usually has gone by to make the detection process very difficult. That’s what the killer counts on in Giles Blunt’s Forty Words For Sorrow. In that novel, Algonquin Bay (Ontario) police detectives John Cardinal and Lise Delorme investigate when the body of thirteen-year-old Katie Pine is discovered in an abandoned mine shaft on Windigo Island. She’s been missing for five months by that time, and as we learn in the novel, the trail has gotten cold. So Cardinal and Delorme face a difficult challenge in connecting her with her killer. In fact, it’s not until there’s another murder that they can really get some of the leads they need to find out the truth.

Donna Malane’s Diane Rowe is a Wellington-based missing persons expert. So she is consulted when the body of an unknown man is discovered in Rimutaka State Forest. The place where the body was found is in remote part of the forest, so it’s not surprising that it’s been there for a very long time. In fact, Rowe learns that the body has been there since the mid-1970s. At this point there’s vey little evidence to go on, but Rowe uses the little bits of information she does have to try to find out who the man was. The fact that the body was found in such an inacessible place certainly doesn’t make her task any easier, but Rowe eventually learns the truth about this ‘John Doe.’

In Alexander McCall Smith’s Tears of the Giraffe Mma. Precious Ramotswe meets a new client, American ex-pat Andrea Curtin. Ten years ago, she and her husband were living in Botswana with their son Michael. When his parents returned to the US, Michael chose to remain behind and join an eco-commune. Not very long after joining that community he disappeared and was presumed killed by an animal. Now Andrea has returned to try to get some closure and find out what really happened to her son. Mma. Ramotswe agrees to find out what she can. Little by little, she traces Michael’s last months and weeks and in the end, she discovers the truth. Throughout the investigation though, her efforts are made all the more difficult by the fact that the community is in such a remote area that just about anything could have happened, and no-one would know.

Some fictional killers opt for bodies of water as places to leave bodies. The advantage of that is that lots of evidence gets washed away or at the very least considerably altered. That can often include evidence like time of death. That’s what happens for instance in Peter Lovesey’s The Last Detective: Introducing Superintendant Peter Diamond. One evening, the body of an unknown woman is found at Chew Valley Lake, near Bristol. It’s difficult to discover who the victim is at first, in part because of having been submerged. After a few false starts, the woman is identified as TV personality Geraldine ‘Gerry’ Jackman. Because the body’s been left at the lake, it’s very difficult to trace the body back to the scene of the actual murder, and thus to the killer. Superintedant Peter Diamond and his assistant John Wigfull start of course with the victim’s husband. But there’s no clear evidence against him; nor is there an obvious motive. And there turn out to be other suspects too. As it turns out, the fact that the body was left in the lake add several complications to the case.

The first of Maj Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö’s Martin Beck novels, Roseanna, begins with the discovery of the body of an unknown woman in Sweden’s Lake Vattern. By the time the body is discovered, it’s been several months since the murder, and that’s one reason for which it’s very difficult to find out who the woman is. But after some time, she is identified as Roseanna McGraw, an American who was visiting Sweden when she was killed. The water has not just hidden the body, but also obliterated obvious evidence. So it takes a great deal of time and effort for Stockholm police inspector Martin Beck and his team to connect the victim with her killer. In the end though, and after a lot of perseverance, the team solves the case. There are of course lots of other examples too of fictional killers who use water as a place to leave a body (I know, I know, fans of Dorothy Sayers’ Have His Carcase and of Angela Savage’s The Dying Beach).

For a different and darkly funny take on moving bodies, you may want to check out Rob Kitchin’s Stiffed. When Tadgh Maguire wakes one more morning after a night of drinking, he has much bigger problems than just his hangover. The body of local gangster Tony Marino is next to him in his bead. Maguire knows how short his life span will become if it gets around that he killed Marino, so he decides that the only thing to do is move the body. And that’s when the real trouble begins…

The less evidence there is, the harder it is for the police to link a murder victim to a killer. And the harder it is to find a body, the more time goes by and the less evidence is available. So it’s little wonder there are so many fictional examples of bodies left in remote areas or iin water. Ther are dozens of examples in crime fiction; which ones stand out for you?

 

ps. The ‘photo is of the Mojave Desert of Eastern California and Western Nevada. Lots of likely places there…
 
 

 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Ritchie Cordell’s I Think We’re Alone Now, made famous by Tommy James and the Shondells.

21 Comments

Filed under Alexander McCall Smith, Angela Savage, Donna Malane, Dorothy Sayers, Maj Sjöwall, Per Wahlöö, Peter Lovesey, Rob Kitchin