Category Archives: Craig Johnson

And I’m Tangled Up in You*

ComplicatedRelationshipsWhen we think of fictional sleuths and criminals, it’s easy to think in terms of an adversarial relationship. The criminal kills and the sleuth’s job is to catch that criminal and see that the killer is brought to justice. But very often even in real life, the sleuth/criminal relationship isn’t that simple. Sometimes the sleuth has a good reason to be sympathetic towards the criminal. Sometimes the sleuth even has a personal relationship with the criminal. When that sort of thing happens it can lead to real complications in the traditional catch/arrest/try/convict procedure. In stories that sort of complication can add to the tension and suspense. Certainly it can make for an absorbing plot thread.

We see that for instance in Agatha Christie’s Death on the Nile. Beautiful, wealthy and successful Linnet Doyle and her husband Simon are on a honeymoon cruise of the Nile. When Linnet is shot on the second night of the cruise, suspicion falls immediately on her former best friend Jacqueline ‘Jackie’ de Bellefort, who’d been engaged to Simon before he met Linnet. But Jackie can be proven not to be the murderer, so Hercule Poirot, who’s on the same cruise, has to look elsewhere for the killer. He finds out who the murderer is and that causes him difficulty because as he puts it, he has much sympathy for that person. Here is a bit of the conversation he and the killer have:

 

‘‘Don’t mind so much, Monsieur Poirot. About me, I mean. You do mind, don’t you?’
‘Yes…’’

 

And this comes from a detective who says more than once that he does not approve of murder. Thanks Moira for this inspiration. Your comment put me in mind of this topic.

There’s another kind of complex relationship between sleuth and killer in Isaac Asimov’s The Caves of Steel. The people of the futuristic Earth depicted in this novel are more or less divided between two groups. One group, the Spacers, is descended from humans who explored space and then returned. The other group, the Earthmen, is descended from humans who did not explore space – who remained on Earth. The two groups have different cultures and values and they dislike and distrust each other for a variety of reasons. When noted Spacer Dr. Roj Nemennuh Sarton is murdered, Spacers begin to suspect that an Earthman is responsible. New York police commissioner Julius Enderby assigns Earthman Elijah ‘Lije’ Baley to the case. Not only does Enderby think Baley is a skilled sleuth, but he also wants to choose an Earthman as proof that this investigation will be transparent. As a further gesture, Enderby assigns Baley a Spacer partner R. Daneel Olivaw. And this in itself poses complications. Olivaw is a positronic robot and if there’s anything Earthmen dislike and distrust more than Spacers it’s robots. Still, Baley and Olivaw begin to work together on the case. They discover who killed Sarton and when they do, Baley has to deal with the fact that he already has a relationship with that person. So in that sense he feels quite conflicted about pursuing what most people think of as justice.

Craig Johnson’s Absaroka County, Wyoming sheriff Walt Longmire faces a conflict about a murderer too in The Cold Dish. Two years before this novel begins, three local boys were convicted of gang-raping sixteen-year-old Melissa Little Bird. They’ve just recently been released from prison when one of them, Cody Pritchard, is found murdered. Then there’s another death. It seems logical that someone in Melissa’s family is taking revenge for what happened to her so Longmire and his team look into the backgrounds and alibis of Melissa’s friends and relations. They don’t make a lot of progress at first but slowly, Longmire puts the pieces of the puzzle together. When he discovers who the killer is he finds it extremely difficult because he already knows that person (after all, the town Longmire lives is one of those small towns where everyone knows everyone). At the end of the novel especially we see how difficult it is for Longmire to deal with the identity of the killer.

In Karin Fossum’s He Who Fears the Wolf, Inspector Konrad Sejer and his assistant Jacob Skarre investigate the murder of Halldis Horn. She lived alone in a somewhat remote area, so when her body is discovered, there aren’t many witnesses who can give a lot of information. But the information the investigation team does get suggests that a young mentally ill man named Errki Johrma is probably responsible. The only problem is that he seems to have disappeared so Sejer can’t interview him. At the same time, Sejer and Skarre are also investigating a bank robbery and hostage-taking situation. These two events are related, and as Sejer and Skarre unravel what really happened, Sejer develops a kind of relationship with the person who turns out to be the killer. He learns about that person and what he learns makes him quite conflicted about what to do in terms of pursuing this case.

Gail Bowen’s Joanne Kilbourn is also conflicted when she discovers the truth about a series of killings in A Colder Kind of Death. Kilbourn is in the process of healing after the murder of her husband Ian. But all of the progress she’s made is threatened when the man convicted of the crime Kevin Tarpley is shot in the yard of the prison where he’s serving his sentence. Then Tarpley’s wife Maureen, who was present on the night of Ian Kilbourn’s murder, is also killed. Joanne falls under a certain amount of suspicion since she had every motive for murder. So partly in order to clear her name, she looks into both killings. What she discovers – and part of what makes this case very difficult – is that she knows the killer and has a history with that person. That complexity doesn’t stop her from acknowledging what happened but when that person confesses we can see that this is not a simple case of finding out who committed a crime and getting that person convicted of it.

And then there’s Sylvie Granotier’s The Paris Lawyer. In that novel, newly-minted attorney Catherine Monsigny gets what she hopes will be her chance at a major case. Myriam Villetreix has been arrested for and charged with the murder of her wealthy husband Gaston. She claims innocence but there is evidence against her. She wants Monsigny to defend her and when Monsigny’s boss gives approval, the process begins. The murder of Gaston Villetreix took place not far from where a tragedy in Monsigny’s own life occurred. When she was a toddler, Monsigny’s mother Violet was murdered. Monsigny was present but was too young to remember very much at all. She wants to lay those ghosts to rest so to speak, but she doesn’t have a lot of reliable information about her mother’s murder. So while she’s in that area preparing for the trial of Myriam Villetreix, she also looks more deeply into the truth about her mother’s death. When she discovers that truth, we see how complicated the relationship between Monsigny and her mother’s killer is. That fact adds an interesting twist to this story.

Sometimes it’s cathartic to think of sleuths as the ‘good guys’ who catch ‘the bad guys,’ put them in jail and restore order. But in both real life and crime fiction, the relationship between sleuths and killers isn’t that clear-cut. And sometimes it can get downright complicated…
 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Howie Day’s Collide.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Craig Johnson, Gail Bowen, Isaac Asimov, Karin Fossum, Sylvie Granotier

Baby, What a Big Surprise*

SurprisesAn interesting post from Elizabeth Spann Craig has got me thinking about how surprising fictional characters can be. In her post Craig makes the point that there are several ways in which authors can make their characters more surprising and therefore richer. She’s right. Characters who surprise us in some way can add to a story. Of course, as with any other aspect of a novel, one has to be careful with this strategy. A character who’s surprising in an implausible way pulls the reader right out of the story. But adding that sort of depth to a character, even if it’s not the protagonist, can make a story all the more absorbing.

In Agatha Christie’s Hickory Dickory Dock (AKA Hickory Dickory Death), Hercule Poirot’s frighteningly efficient secretary Miss Lemon asks him to investigate some strange goings-on at the student hostel that her sister manages. Poirot is surprised that Miss Lemon even has a sister and that alone – thinking of Miss Lemon as actually having a family – gives him a bit of pause. When one of the hostel residents Celia Austin confesses to a lot of the strange things that have happened, everyone thinks the matter is settled. But then two nights later Celia dies, an apparent suicide. It’s soon proven to be murder though and Poirot works with Inspector Sharpe to find out who was responsible. Part of the murder investigation involves searches of the residents’ belongings, and when the inspector and his team conduct those searches they find out some surprising things about some of the other people who live in the hostel.

In Camilla Läckberg’s The Hidden Child, crime writer Erica Falck is sorting through her parents’ things after their deaths. She comes upon a Nazi medal that completely takes her by surprise. Certainly no-one in her family had given any hint that there might have been a connection to the Nazi regime. This discovery sheds a whole new light on Falck’s parents so Falck visits retired historian Erik Frankel, hoping that he’ll be able to tell her more about that period of the local history. Two days after that visit Frankel is murdered. It’s soon clear that someone in the present day doesn’t want the town’s history to be unearthed. Falck’s husband police officer Patrik Hedström gets involved in the murder investigation even though he’s supposed to be on paternity leave and in her own way Falck investigates too. In the end they find the connection between the case they’re looking into and World War II-era events.

Craig Johnson’s The Cold Dish introduces us to Absaroka County, Wyoming sheriff Walt Longmire. When the body of a local young man Cody Pritchard is discovered not far from the town of Durant, Longmire and his deputy Victoria ‘Vic’ Moretti begin to investigate. Pritchard is one of three young men who were convicted two years earlier of the brutal gang-rape of sixteen-year-old Melissa Little Bird. They’ve recently been released from prison, so a logical possibility is that someone in Melissa’s family is taking revenge. Melissa’s uncle, who also happens to be Longmire’s best friend, is Henry Standing Bear. Sometimes called The Bear, he owns The Red Pony, a local bar/restaurant. In part because he and Longmire are friends and in part because of his own family’s possible involvement in this case, The Bear takes an interest in the investigation and helps Longmire in several important ways. But even though he and Longmire have been friends for a long time, he’s still able to surprise the sheriff. For instance, Longmire has the unpleasant duty of asking his best friend where he was on the night of Cody Pritchard’s murder. That’s when he finds out that The Bear is having a relationship with his protégée and bartender Dena Many Camps. The fact of that relationship doesn’t affect the outcome of the novel but it’s a surprising side to Henry Standing Bear’s character and to Dena Many Camps’ character since she can basically have her choice of partners.

In Anthony Bidulka’s Amuse Bouche we meet Saskatoon PI Russell Quant. Although Quant’s not in a long-term relationship when the series begins, he does have a circle of trusted friends, neighbours and co-workers. His next-door-neighbour is Sereena Orion Smith, who never fails to surprise Quant. She’s an enigmatic character to begin with and as we learn bits and pieces of her backstory she becomes richer and more interesting. For instance in Flight of Aquavit, Quant investigates a case of blackmail that later turns into murder. At one point in the novel he travels to New York to follow up on an important lead and Smith, who has business of her own there, goes along. They stay at the Sherry-Netherland Hotel where to Quant’s surprise, Smith already seems to be known – by another name. He doesn’t get much of a satisfactory explanation and I don’t think it’s spoiling the novel to say that this aspect of Smith’s character isn’t really a major key to the plot. But Bidulka follows that thread – Sereena Orion Smith’s story – in later novels. The fact that she is a surprising character adds to her appeal.

There’s also a surprising character in Paddy Richardson’s Hunting Blind. Stephanie Anderson is a beginning psychiatrist who lives and works in Dunedin. For the last seventeen years she’s been trying to put her life back together after the abduction of her four-year-old sister Gemma. She hasn’t really ‘gotten over it,’ because one doesn’t. But she has made a life for herself. Then one of her patients Elizabeth Clark tells her a story that’s eerily similar to Anderson’s own. Clark’s younger sister Gracie was also abducted and like Gemma Anderson’s case, no body was ever found, nor was there any evidence of the perpetrator. When Anderson hears this story, she decides to try to lay her own ghosts to rest and find out who was responsible for the abductions. So she journeys from Dunedin to her home town of Wanaka to try to look for answers. Along the way she meets Dan, who makes his living as a hunting guide. Although she finds him attractive, Anderson isn’t much interested at all in hunting/survival so when he invites her for a hunting trip, she doesn’t think much of the idea. But then she changes her mind and agrees to go out in the bush for a few days. She goes to Dan’s house to learn how to shoot and is completely surprised to find that he’s not all what she thought he was. Here’s just a bit of a conversation they have when he invites her to stay for dinner:

 

‘Wine, please. White wine?’ [Anderson]
‘I can manage both colours. Types as well. So. What type of white?’
He’s grinning again. She sees he’s teasing her.
‘Pinot gris?’ Huh, I guarantee he hasn’t got that.
‘Central Otago?’
‘Uh, yes. Thanks.’
He opens a bottle, fills a glass and hands it to her. ‘I believe I’m making progress.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I hope that I’m adequately demonstrating to you that all hunters aren’t blokey yobbos.’
‘I didn’t say they were.’
‘You didn’t actually say it, no.’’
 

Part of the interest in this novel is the way in which Anderson finds that Dan is a much richer character than she’d thought.

And then there’s Rajiv Patel, whom we meet in Angela Savage’s The Half Child. Patel is filling in for his uncle, who owns and manages a Bangkok bookshop but has been sidelined by a heart attack. That’s how Patel meets PI Jayne Keeney, who enjoys reading, especially crime fiction (How can you not like that in a protagonist? ;-)   ). Patel and Keeney begin seeing each other, although not seriously at first. Then, Keeney is hired by Queensland farmer Jim Delbeck to find out the truth about his daughter Maryanne’s death. Maryanne Delbeck was a volunteer at a child care facility/orphanage in Pattaya when she jumped (or fell, or was pushed) from the roof of the building where she was living. Delbeck doesn’t think his daughter committed suicide despite what the official reports say, so he wants Keeney to investigate. She agrees and travels to Pattaya. Throughout the case Patel proves surprisingly helpful in a number of ways and Keeney has to re-think her entire relationship with him and her view of her work. And in the end – no, I’m not going to spoil it for you. Let’s just say Patel really manages to surprise Keeney. If you’re reading this, Angela, I just love that scene!

Characters who surprise the reader can add some real interest to a novel. And when they also surprise the writer (and yes, that happens), they can keep a story or series fresh. Which characters have surprised you? If you’re a writer, do your characters ever surprise you?

 

 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is the title of a song by Chicago.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Angela Savage, Anthony Bidulka, Camilla Läckberg, Craig Johnson, Paddy Richardson

Well, We All Have a Face That We Hide Away Forever*

The other day (and no, this is not going to be one of my made-up stories; this really happened), I got a rude shock. Someone I knew (‘though not very well) was arrested. This person isn’t a friend or family member and hadn’t committed a crime against me or anyone in my family. So in that sense I didn’t feel betrayal or devastation. But still, seeing someone I’d known being led away in handcuffs was unsettling. It shouldn’t have been, I suppose. The truth is anyone can commit a crime. In Agatha Christie’s Hickory Dickory Dock (AKA Hickory Dickory Death) Hercule Poirot investigates the murder of Celia Austin. Just about everyone in the student hostel where she lives turns out to be a suspect and at one point in the novel Poirot is discussing the various motives with Inspector Sharpe, who’s officially investigating the case. Sharpe is astounded by the number of suspects and says,

 

‘‘For heaven’s sake, Poirot. You are making my head spin! Is nobody incapable of murder?’
‘I have often wondered,” said Hercule Poirot.’’
 

And yet, we are still sometimes badly shocked (yes, even crime fiction fans who you’d think wouldn’t be) when someone we’ve known turns out to be a criminal.  As someone said to me about the arrest I witnessed, ‘You think you know someone…’ We build mental images of people we know, and most of the time those images do not include ‘this person has committed a crime.’

Crime fiction authors make use of people’s habit of building mental pictures. In the ‘whodunit’ kind of mystery, one way in which the author challenges the reader is by making the criminal turn out to be someone it would be hard to picture as a criminal. Of course there is a risk to this sort of plot point. A killer who’s too far out of the realm of possibility can stretch the story’s credibility too far. But if it’s done well, a killer who ‘doesn’t seem like a criminal’ can give a story an interesting twist.

For instance, in Agatha Christie’s After the Funeral (AKA Funerals Are Fatal), the Abernethie family gathers when patriarch Richard Abernethie suddenly dies. During that gathering Abernethie’s younger sister Cora Lansquenet says he was murdered. At first no-one believes her; Cora herself asks everyone to forget that she said anything. But privately everyone begins to wonder whether Cora might have been right. And when she herself is brutally murdered the next day, it seems clear that she was. Family attorney Mr. Entwhistle asks Hercule Poirot to look into the case and Poirot agrees. He finds that each of Abernethie’s relations could have had a motive for murdering him – and Cora. In the end, everyone (except Poirot of course) is shocked to find out who the killer really is. And part of the reason for that shock is that they couldn’t imagine that person being a criminal.

In Isaac Asimov’s The Caves of Steel, New York City homicide detective Elijah ‘Lije’ Baley gets a very difficult case. In the futuristic New York where he lives there are two main groups of people. The Earthmen are descendents of people who’ve always lived on Earth and built a world for themselves. The Spacers are also human, but they are descendents of those who explored space. The two groups have very different lives and perspectives, and relations between them are strained even at the best of times. Against this backdrop Baley is assigned to investigate the murder of noted Spacer Dr. Roj Nemennuh Sarton. Many Spacers suspect that an Earthman is responsible for the murder so Baley is asked to work with a Spacer partner R. Daneel Olivaw. The thing is that Olivaw is a positronic robot, and if there’s any group that Earthmen fear and hate more than they do Spacers it’s robots. So Baley and Olivaw have to break through several cultural and social barriers as they investigate. In the end, the killer turns out to be someone most people would not have guessed would commit murder.

That’s also true in Martha Grimes’ The Anodyne Necklace. In that novel, Inspector Richard Jury is called away from a planned holiday to investigate a murder. A finger bone has been discovered in the village of Littlebourne and when the rest of the body is also found, it’s clear that this was not a natural death. The victim turns out to be Cora Binns, who had worked for a London temporary services agency. She’d been on her way to an interview in Littlebourne but never made it. And this isn’t the only unsettling thing to happen in the village. One of the residents, sixteen-year-old Katie O’Brien, was brutally attacked in a London underground station. It turns out that these events are tied to a robbery a year or so before the events in the novel. And the person behind all of what happens is someone the village’s residents wouldn’t have guessed would be ‘the criminal type.’

Colin Dexter’s The Remorseful Day is the story of the murder of a nurse Yvonne Harrison. She had an unusual and complicated private life and a dysfunctional family. But when she is first killed the police can’t find any concrete evidence that implicates anyone. So the case goes ‘cold.’ Then two years later, the police receive an anonymous tip that Harry Repp, who’s just been released from prison on burglary charges, is guilty of Harrison’s murder. Inspector Morse and Sergeant Lewis are assigned to re-open the Harrison case and they begin asking questions. But Morse seems oddly reluctant to pursue the investigation. Then Lewis makes a discovery that suggests the shocking reason for Morse’s apparent apathy about the case. But this is after all Colin Dexter so things are not what they seem. When the real truth about Yvonne Harrison’s murder comes out, the killer turns out to be someone one wouldn’t have imagined as a criminal.

In Craig Johnson’s The Cold Dish, Sheriff Walt Longmire and his deputy Victoria ‘Vic’ Moretti investigate the murder of a local young man Cody Pritchard. Then a few days later, Pritchard’s friend Jacob Esper is murdered. Although there isn’t much evidence to go on, Longmire believes that he knows what’s behind these killings. A few years earlier, Pritchard, Esper and Esper’s brother George were convicted of gang-raping then-sixteen-year-old Melissa Little Bird. Longmire and his team suspect that one of Melissa’s friends or family members could be taking revenge.  But this case is not quite as clear-cut as it seems. In the end, the killer turns out to be someone a lot of people wouldn’t have suspected of the murders.

 

You think you know someone…

 

 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Billy Joel’s The Stranger.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Colin Dexter, Craig Johnson, Isaac Asimov, Martha Grimes

You’ll Always Be a Part of Me*

One of the great payoffs of reading well-written crime fiction is that one gets to meet some unforgettable characters. I’m not talking today about the main sleuth of a series, such as Michael Connelly’s Harry Bosch or Sue Grafton’s Kinsey Millhone. We can all think I’m sure of dozens of sleuths who’ve made a strong impression. Rather, I mean characters who for one or another reason (or perhaps several) have stayed with us. Characters become that powerful because there’s something about them that haunts us. And understanding what that something is helps in understanding what makes for a memorable crime novel. Of course the thing about such a topic is that it’s subjective. The things that make an impression on one person may not on another. So here are just my ideas of a few crime-fictional characters other than major series sleuths who’ve stayed with me for a long time.

One such character is Amy Folliat, whom we meet in Agatha Christie’s Dead Man’s Folly. Mrs. Folliat lives in the lodge at Nasse House, which property she and her family owned for generations. When financial problems forced her to sell the property Sir George Stubbs and his wife Hattie became the new owners. Despite the “changing of the guard,” the locals still think of Mrs. Folliat as the lady of Nasse House. There are several scenes in the novel where she interacts with them and we can see both the esteem in which they hold her and her respect for them, even those who aren’t “well-born.” She’s had a difficult life on several levels, but Mrs. Folliat has remained strong and simply doesn’t discuss her personal problems. When Sir George and Lady Hattie start to plan the annual fête that’s become a tradition at Nasse House, they decide to include a Murder Hunt, a bit like a scavenger hunt.  Detective novelist Ariadne Oliver is commissioned to create the synopsis, the characters and so on for the Murder Hunt, and she travels to Nasse House to do so. It’s not long though before she begins to believe that something sinister may be going on. She asks Hercule Poirot to join her and investigate, which he agrees to do. Their worst fears are realised on the day of the fête when fourteen-year-old Marlene Tucker, who was to play the part of the victim in the Murder Hunt, is actually strangled. Poirot and Oliver work with Inspector Bland to find out who would want to kill the victim and why. Throughout the investigation Amy Folliat remains courteous, gracious and strong – even indomitable. She really does personify grace, dignity and courage and I admire her character very much for that.

Another character who’s stayed with me is Eleanor “Ellie” Smith, who features in Colin Dexter’s The Daughters of Cain. She’s a prostitute who meets Dexter’s sleuth Inspector Morse when one of her clients Felix McClure is murdered. Morse and Sergeant Lewis begin to investigate the case and start to piece together McClure’s life. He was a former don at Wolsey College, Oxford and after looking into McClure’s associations there, Morse and Lewis suspect that his former scout Ted Brooks may be the murderer. McClure had discovered that Brooks might be dealing drugs to students and was about to reveal what he knew. Not long after Brooks falls under suspicion though, he himself is found murdered. Now Morse and Lewis have to start over and see how the two cases tie together. One of the links is Ellie Smith. Although she’s a suspect in a murder case Morse finds himself attracted to her and the feeling’s mutual. And one can see why he likes her too. Ellie Smith is a tough survivor. She’s had a very difficult life with good reason to be extremely bitter, but although she’s certainly not idealistic, she has a very strong spirit. She doesn’t have much education but she’s smart and shrewd. She has a deep capacity to care too despite her hardness and her initial distrust of Morse. Morse and Lewis find out the truth about the murders of Felix McClure and Ted Brooks but then to Morse’s consternation Ellie Smith disappears. She continues to haunt Morse though and I can see why. She’s gutsy, smart and looks life right in the eyes as you might say. She’s a survivor who’s learned to be extremely good at making the best of situations.

Peter Temple’s Charlie Taub is another character who’s left a strong impression on me. Taub is a master cabinetmaker and wood craftsman who features in Temple’s Jack Irish novels. Irish, who is a sometime-attorney and private investigator, is learning cabinetry from Taub. He couldn’t have a better mentor. Taub is a perfectionist who notices details. He sees the end product in his mind and imagines what a fine piece of wood could be when it’s been treated well. In some ways he’s a harsh taskmaster. To him even the smallest job is worth being done with care. He’s not what you’d call a philosopher but he has learned a few lessons about life that he shares with Irish when they’re working. Taub’s a pragmatist who cuts through verbiage and gets right to the heart of a problem. And he doesn’t waste a lot of words doing so either. He’s also learned the soul-healing value of creating and of doing soothing work, which cabinetry can be. That’s part of why he does what he does. I admire his approach to life and I am in awe of people who can create with their hands the way that Charlie Taub can.

In Karin Fossum’s Don’t Look Back we are introduced to Eddie Holland. He and his wife Ada live in the small village of Granittveien with their fifteen-year-old daughter Annie and Ada’s adult daughter Sølvi. Their lives are shattered one day when Annie’s body is discovered near a local tarn. Inspector Konrad Sejer and his assistant Jacob Skarre are called in to investigate. Forensic evidence suggests that Annie wasn’t raped and knew her attacker. So Sejer and Skarre look more closely at Annie’s relationships with the other members of her family as well as her relationships with the other locals. The investigation adds to Eddie Holland’s terrible grief because he himself falls under suspicion. He’s cleared, but the loss of his daughter devastates him and it’s obvious. Eddie Holland’s character has remained with me because he’s a clear example of a loving father  who has to cope without the child who matters more to him than just about anything else. His quiet dignified way of getting through this ordeal makes more of an impression than any bluster would.

And then there’s Craig Johnson’s Henry Standing Bear, owner of The Red Pony, a bar/restaurant in rural Durant, Wyoming. He is a member of the Cheyenne Nation who’s very much connected with his people and their ways of life, although he doesn’t live on the Reservation. He’s also the best friend of Johnson’s sleuth Sheriff Walt Longmire. The two of them fought together in Vietnam and have been close friends for decades. Henry Standing Bear functions easily enough in the White world in which he moves, but he doesn’t give up any of his identity. A friend of mine once heard it described this way: “I wear my cultural identity like a coat that protects me.” I couldn’t say it better myself. Henry Standing Bear stays with me as a character in part because there are depths to him that we don’t get to know right away. He’s not superficial and he is easy to underestimate, but at the same time, he’s not one of those annoyingly enigmatic characters who don’t feel “real.” One of the things that make him real is his sense of humour. At the beginning of Death Without Company for instance, Longmire has stayed overnight at the Red Pony. A major snowstorm’s come through during the night and Longmire wakes the next morning to find that the heat’s out. Henry Standing Bear has lit a fire though so they’ll be comfortable.

 

“‘Do you want some coffee?’ [Standing Bear]
‘Yep.’
‘Then go and make some. I am the one who lit the fire.’”
 

That sense of humour also makes Henry Standing Bear a memorable character for me. So does his ability to deal with crisis situations without losing his sense of judgement.

The character who’s stayed with me the most is perhaps Catherine O’Flynn’s Kate Meaney, the focus of What Was Lost. When the novel begins in 1984, ten-year-old Kate is a blossoming detective. She’s even got her own agency Falcon Investigations. Her passion is to look for crime and she keeps copious notes on her observations. She spends a lot of time at the newly-built Green Oaks Shopping Center where there’s sure to be suspicious activity. Kate doesn’t conform to the “typical” expectations for young people but that doesn’t bother her. She’s got her own plans and dreams of a future where she can prevent and stop crime. Then her grandmother Ivy, with whom she lives, gives her terrible news. Ivy thinks that it will be best for Kate if she goes away to school. Kate has no desire to do this but since she’s only ten she hasn’t got much say. Her friend Adrian Palmer persuades her to at least sit the entrance exams and she finally agrees. He even accompanies her to the school. Then Kate disappears. Everyone blames Adrian Palmer, who claims that he’s innocent. But no trace of Kate is ever found. Twenty years later Adrian’s younger sister Lisa is working at the mall when she makes an unlikely friend Kurt, who’s a security guard at the mall. When Kurt starts to see images of a young girl on the security cameras Lisa wonders whether those images might somehow be connected to Kate Meaney. Each in a different way, Kurt and Lisa begin to explore the past and in that search we find out what really happened to Kate Meaney. What makes Kate memorable to me is her irrepressible love of life despite her not-exactly-lovely surroundings. She’s also an original thinker who’s completely unafraid to live life on her own terms. She is an unforgettable person and we see that in the void her disappearance left in the lives of almost everyone who knew her and in the healing that can’t really begin until those who knew her find out what happened to her.

I’ve only mentioned a few characters that have stayed with me and of course my choices are subjective. What are yours? Why do those characters stay with you? If you’re a writer what do you add to your characters to keep them in people’s minds?

 

 

 

*NOTE:  The title of this post is a line from Naked Eyes’ (There is) Always Something There to Remind Me.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Catherine O'Flynn, Colin Dexter, Craig Johnson, Karin Fossum, Peter Temple

In The Spotlight: Craig Johnson’s The Cold Dish

Hello, All,

Welcome to another edition of In The Spotlight. The American West has captured people’s imaginations for a very long time. Even though most of us know that life in the West isn’t very similar to the romanticised version of it that we see in some films and television shows there’s still something about it that draws people in. So it’s not surprising that there’ve been some very successful series set in that part of the U.S. To get a sense of what I mean let’s take a closer look at one of them, Craig Johnson’s Walt Longmire series. Let’s turn the spotlight today on the first in that series The Cold Dish.

The story begins with the discovery late one afternoon of a young man’s body on public land not far from Durant, Wyoming. The person who discovered the body is an habitual drunk so at first Sheriff Walt Longmire doesn’t take the call very seriously. In fact he sends his deputy Victoria “Vic” Moretti to the scene, expecting that she’ll find that the “dead body” is a dead sheep. Longmire is wrong. The body belongs to a young man from the area Cody Pritchard. There’s not a lot of evidence to go on at first, so Longmire and his team begin by trying to trace Pritchard’s last days and weeks. Then there’s another murder. Jacob Esper’s body is discovered near the place where he’d planned a fishing trip.

Although there isn’t a lot of evidence, Longmire believes he knows what’s behind these murders. Pritchard and Esper were two of four young men who, a few years earlier, were convicted of gang-raping then-sixteen-year-old Melissa Little Bird. Some of the evidence in the two murders suggests that the killer might be a member of Melissa’s Cheyenne Nation and possibly even a member of her family. If so this is going to be an incredibly difficult case for Longmire, who can’t really blame the killer. Melissa’s attackers got what everyone thinks were unfairly light sentences for what they did despite Longmire’s efforts. Besides, these murders could add real tension to the relations between the Whites and those who live on the Cheyenne Reservation. But it seems clear that someone has decided to take vengeance and Longmire will have to stop that person.

Longmire believes that the other two young men Esper’s twin brother George and Bryan Keller may be in danger. Besides, they may know who’s responsible for the murders. So his next step is to find Esper and Keller and see what they know. Keller is put into protective custody, claiming that he doesn’t anything about the two murders. But George Esper disappears. So now Longmire and his team have to track down George Esper, find out what they can from Bryan Keller and find the killer. In the end, Longmire finds out who the killer is and how these murders are connected to the case of Melissa Little Bird. And no, it’s not the straightforward kind of case you might think.

As the title suggests, one of the main elements running through this novel is the theme of revenge. But Johnson doesn’t treat that theme in the abstract. Rather, we see what the effect of a terrible crime is on its victim, the victim’s family and just about everyone else as we get to know Melissa Little Bird and the members of her family. We also see its effect on the perpetrators as we get to know Bryan Keller and as we learn a little about the Esper twins and Cody Pritchard. What’s interesting is that each of these four young men have been affected differently by what they did.

In some ways this is a police procedural. So we follow along as Longmire and his team interview family members and witnesses and collect evidence. We also get a sense of the long hours and frustration of a serious investigation.

Walt Longmire is haunted by what happened to Melissa Little Bird although he’s not responsible for it, and that sense of personal responsibility is an important part of his character. And Longmire’s character is an essential element in this novel. He’s a widower whose grown daughter Cady is a successful Philadelphia attorney. Although he lives alone, Longmire doesn’t wallow in loneliness or engage in a lot of self-destructive behaviour. And, very refreshingly, he has a loving relationship with Cady, calling her,
 

“…my singular ray of sunshine.”
 

Longmire is pragmatic, intelligent and devoted to his job. He takes a personal interest too in the people he works with and it’s clear that to him, the job of sheriff is a lot more than simply a political stepping-stone. That sense of personal responsibility is part of what gets him so frustrated when he and his team can’t find Cody Pritchard’s killer at first and even more so after Jacob Esper’s death.

There are other interesting characters too whose presence are important threads through this novel. Perhaps most prominent is Longmire’s close friend Henry Standing Bear, owner of the Red Pony, which is a bar/restaurant. Henry Standing Bear is a member of the Cheyenne Nation who fought with Longmire in Viet Nam; the two of them have known each other for years and have developed a real loyalty to each other. For instance, at one point in the novel, the two of them are searching for George Esper. They’re out in a relatively inaccessible part of the county when a sudden snowstorm strikes. As they do their best to move along through the storm we can see how each protects the other. Henry Standing Bear, whom Longmire sometimes refers to as The Bear, is in some ways a traditional Cheyenne who lives by his people’s ways. In fact, although Longmire feels free to tease his friend about a lot of things, there are some things that are off limits because of The Bear’s spirituality.

There’s also the character of Vic Moretti. She’s a highly skilled, very independent and tough-talking former Philadelphia cop who moved to Wyoming with her husband and has had her issues fitting in with a culture that’s new to her. She’s not afraid to tell Longmire exactly what she thinks and she gives as good as she gets as the saying goes.

And then there are the less obvious but equally interesting characters such as Ruby, Longmire’s dispatcher and office manager, and Dorothy Caldwell, who owns and runs the Busy Bee restaurant. As all of these characters interact we can see how they’ve all formed bonds with each other and with Longmire. The town of Durant is a small town so everyone knows everyone, and we see clearly how in this case, that “small town” feeling is in many ways a positive one.

There’s also a solid thread of humour running through the novel. Longmire doesn’t take himself too seriously and that adds a welcome light touch to a novel that is sometimes very, very sad. For instance, at one point in the novel, one of the crime scene investigators tells Longmire,
 

“You blow one homicide, it looks like a mistake. You blow two, it starts looking like negligence. Or worse yet, stupidity.”
 

Longmire’s response?
 

“I thought I’d use that on the bumper stickers in the next election, VOTE LONGMIRE, HE’S STUPID.”
 

Another bit of humour happens while Longmire and Henry Standing Bear are searching for George Esper. The Bear’s been wounded and persuades a very reluctant Longmire to go on ahead, find Esper, and then come back for him. Longmire’s concerned about his friend and wants to know how he’s faring:
 

“He [Standing Bear] grimaced and shifted his weight.
‘Pain?’
‘No, I have plenty, thank you.’
I wanted to punch him.”
 

Despite the humour and occasional self-deprecation, make no mistake. Walt Longmire is determined to solve this case and we see that determination throughout the novel.

The novel takes place in rural Wyoming and that beautiful and sometimes dangerous setting is an essential element of this novel. Here for instance is the view outside Longmire’s office window:
 

“I’ve got the large office in the south side bay, which allows me an unobstructed view of the Big Horn Mountains to my right and the Powder River Valley to my left. The geese fly down the valley south, with their backs to me…”
 

Walt Longmire is a product of this setting and all through the novel we see how he fits into it. Quite honestly I couldn’t imagine him happy anywhere else.

The Cold Dish is a story of the after-effects of a terrible crime for everyone. It’s also the story of the network of friendships and other relationships that are woven into the fabric of a small town. It features an interesting and quintessentially American West sheriff and is set in some of the United States’ truly lovely country. But what’s your view? Have you read The Cold Dish? If you have, what elements do you see in it?

 

 
 

Coming Up On In the Spotlight
 

Monday 17 September/Tuesday 18 September – Deadly Tide – Sandy Curtis

Monday 24 September/Tuesday 25 September – Baptism – Max Kinnings

Monday 30 September/Tuesday 1 October – One Coffee With – Margaret Maron

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