It’s no secret that modern technology has dramatically increased the contact we have with people from, quite literally, all over the world. This globalisation has meant that more and more, we’re aware of and influenced by other cultures and ways of doing things. The global nature of communication certainly presents its share of challenges. Different cultures have of course different values, priorities and ways of looking at the world. So negotiating meaning can be a challenge. So can the personal preferences, biases and so on that we all have. There are other challenges too such as language differences. But the payoff can mean that some major issues that affect everyone can be addressed as a wealth of expertise and innovative perspectives can be brought to bear.
It can work in real life, and it does in crime fiction too. There are lots of crime fiction novels and series where the investigation crosses geopolitical borders, and even when there are challenges, the end result is often more productive than it would be without that kind of co-operation.
In Agatha Cristie’s Death in the Clouds, for example, Hercule Poirot is on a flight from Paris to London when a fellow passenger Marie Morisot suddenly dies of what turns out to be poison. The only possible suspects are the other passengers on the flight, so Poirot and Chief Inspector Japp sift through the various possibilities to find out who would have wanted to murder the victim. She was a well-known moneylender who did business as Madame Giselle, and more than one of the suspects might have had good reason to want her dead. Madame Giselle was French, so British and French authorities will have to work together to solve the case. And in this particular instance they do. There are a few moments of awkwardness, but in the main, the investigation is successful. And it’s clear that without that co-operation, it might very well not be. Fans of Christie’s work will know that The Murder on the Links presents a slightly different view of a joint effort between French and British police. And such ‘team efforts’ don’t always work smoothly. But when they work well, they lead to better investigation.
Maj Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö’s Roseanna offers an interesting look at the way Swedish and American police work together to solve a case. When the body of a young woman is dredged up from Lake Vättern, it’s extremely difficult at first to find out who she is. But eventually she is identified as twenty-seven-year-old Roseanna McGraw, a native of the US state of Nebraska. She was touring Sweden when she was killed, and at first there seems no motive for the murder. Little by little though, we get a more detailed portrait of her personal life and of those who interacted with her. And that leads slowly to the killer. In the end, Beck and his team find out who the murderer is. But it would arguably have been impossible without the information provided by Detective Lieutenant Elmer Kafka of the Lincoln, Nebraska police. At the time the novel was written, this kind of global approach to crime solving involved cables, sometimes-unreliable international telephone calls and letters. It’s a lot easier with modern communication.
In Helene Tursten’s The Glass Devil, Göteborg police inspector Irene Huss and her team investigate the murder of schoolteacher Jacob Schyttelius and his parents. At first, the murders seem to be the work of a Satanist group. That’s not a far-fetched theory, as Schyttelius’ father is a member of the clergy. But it’s not long before that theory is disproved. Now the possibility arises that someone is killing the members of the family for more personal reasons. If that’s the case, then Schyttelius’ sister Rebecka could very well be the murderer’s next target. She lives in London, so Huss and her team will have to work with UK authorities to protect Rebecka Schyttelius and solve the case. Huss travels to London and works with Inspector Glen Thompson of the Met. Although Huss speaks English, Thompson’s knowledge of the local scene and his connections are essential to solving the case. Huss’ knowledge of the family background and of the murders themselves is just as important.
Michael Connelly’s Harry Bosch deals with a global sort of a case in 9 Dragons. When Los Angeles liquor store owner John Li is shot, Bosch and his partner Ignacio Ferras investigate. Evidence suggests that Li was making protection payoffs to one of Los Angeles’ triads, or ‘protection groups’ with connections to Hong Kong. Bosch is starting to follow up that lead when he gets a call from his daughter Maddie, who’s living there with her mother (and Bosch’s ex-wife) Eleanor Wish. Maddie says that she’s been kidnapped, so Bosch immediately travels to Hong Kong to find her. In the end, we find out what happened to Maddie; we also find out the truth about John Li’s murder. And throughout the novel, we see how the global nature of today’s world impacts these cases.
Ian Hamilton’s Toronto-based sleuth Ava Lee is a forensic accountant. She works for a Hong Kong-based company whose specialty is recovering large debts. In The Water Rat of Wanchai, The Disciple of Las Vegas and The Wild Beasts of Wuhan, Lee travels to many different parts of the world as she traces lost money. This series takes a very global perspective on the way money is earned, stolen, managed, transferred and hidden. Because today’s technology allows transactions to be global, financial investigation has to be global as well.
Crime fiction also shows us globalism on a small scale too. For instance, Steve Hamilton’s Alex McKnight series takes place in and around Paradise, on Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. That part of Michigan is of course very close to the border with the Canadian province of Ontario. So in several of McKnight’s stories, there’s a lot of communication and interaction between Canadian and American people, and that includes police authorities. As Hamilton shows, globalism has several facets. On the one hand, there are sometimes-subtle but distinct differences between the Canadian way of doing things and the American way. They’re different cultures. They see life differently and that’s portrayed in the series. And yet, we also see the easy communication, the overall willing co-operation, and the recognition that each side benefits from the other’s knowledge. What’s even more interesting (at least to me) is that that area of Lake Superior and Lake Michigan has its own unique culture, distilled from the Indigenous cultures, the Candian culture and the American culture. It’s a global way of looking at life at a very local level.
In today’s world, easy travel and even easier communication have arguably resulted in a more global perspective on life. Certainly crime has ‘gone global.’ So it makes a lot of sense that perspectives on investigation would do the same. I’ve only touched on a few examples here. So now, it’s over to the rest of you folks in the global crime fiction community…
*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from John Lennon’s Imagine. He would have been 74 today as this is posted. Imagine…