Can’t You See I’m Smart?*

Research during the past few decades has shown us some fascinating things about the way we think and know. It used to be believed that intelligence could be measured on a single dimension. The assumption was that everyone had a certain amount of this one ‘thing’ called intelligence. But work by Howard Gardner and other researchers has changed all that. Gardner conceived of several different intelligences. According to this theory, there are several different ways of thinking and knowing; Gardner called them multiple intelligences. We each have some of each of the intelligences, but in each of us, at least one (and usually more than one) is particularly strong. Hold on – I’ll get to crime fiction in just a second.

Gardner’s ideas about multiple intelligences make a lot of intuitive sense if you think about it. Some people are naturally good at, say, art, music, athletics or languages. And research has supported his theory fairly consistently. We can even see these multiple intelligences woven all through crime fiction. If you look at the way various sleuths go about solving cases, you can see how different ways of thinking and knowing come through in the genre.

For instance, one of Gardner’s multiple intelligences is what he called logical-mathematical intelligence. People with a high degree of this kind of intelligence find it easy to recognise patterns and algorithms. They find numbers and codes and puzzles interesting and their skill is in deduction. Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes is like that. As Holmes fans know, he looks for patterns and focuses on deduction and logic.

There’s also what Gardner called visual-spatial intelligence. People with visual-spatial intelligence tend to be talented at art. They notice colour and design and respond to what they see. In a very obvious way we see that kind of intelligence in Ngaio Marsh’s Agatha Troy. She’s an artist who responds to what she sees and can create in several different media. For instance in both Final Curtain and Tied Up in Tinsel (and other novels too), Troy is commissioned to paint portraits. So she’s on the scene when murder happens at the homes where she’s staying. Although it’s technically her husband Roderick Alleyn who officially solves the cases, Troy’s skilled eyes are very helpful in finding clues. We see that especially in A Clutch of Constables in which she goes up against an international art forger known only as Jampot. Hercule Poirot also has this kind of intelligence. He’s quite observant about his visual surroundings and of course, fans know how important the appearance of his clothes and moustaches are to him.

Some people have a great deal of linguistic intelligence. Novelists, poets, journalists and other writers often fall into this category. If you love words, play a lot of word games and notice the way people use language, you’ve got a solid dose of this kind of intelligence. For instance, John Dickson Carr’s Dr. Gideon Fell is a lexicographer. Words and languages are his specialty. That’s how he finds out the truth in, for instance, Hag’s Nook, where a cryptic poem turns out to be key to a murder. Colin Dexter’s Inspector Morse has a dose of this kind of intelligence too. He does after all solve crossword puzzles with a pen and is a stickler for certain kinds of language use.

People with a lot of kinesthetic intelligence have a solid sense of where their bodies are in space. Actors, athletes, dancers, and people who can parallel park on the first try show this kind of intelligence. People with kinesthetic intelligence like to learn by doing and using their hands and bodies. For example, Helene Tursten’s DI Irene Huss has a share of kinesthetic intelligence. She is a former judo champion who uses the principles of judo to keep herself in shape as well as to clear her mind and cope with the stresses of her life as a cop. And interestingly, we several instances in this series where Huss gets bored and tired of paperwork and the other ‘desk routines’ that are part of a cop’s life. Although she’s hardly rash, Huss prefers to be out doing things to sitting at her desk. She also enjoys going for runs and exercising the family dog. All of those are hallmarks of kinesthetic intelligence and it serves Huss well.

Gardner also proposed interpersonal intelligence. People with interpersonal intelligence are skilled at interacting with others. I don’t mean that they are necessarily manipulators; rather, they work well with all kinds of people. And that is a critical skill for a sleuth. So, most fictional sleuths have at least some degree of it. G.K. Chesterton’s Father Paul Brown for instance is highly skilled at communicating with others, at forming bonds with them and understanding their perspectives. That’s how he learns as much as he does from suspects and witnesses. Karin Fossum’s Oslo police inspector Konrad Sejer is like that too. When he’s investigating a crime, one of his talents is the ability to see things from a variety of other perspectives and ‘get in people’s heads’ to understand why and how they do what they do. People tend to become comfortable talking with him and he often finds himself better able to get information through his interactions than he would through simply reading police reports.

There are also people with a lot of what Gardner called intrapersonal intelligence. Reflective people, people who keep journals and those who are really aware of themselves show this kind of intelligence. And being aware of one’s own reactions  – one’s sense of self – can be very useful for a sleuth. For example, James Lee Burke’s Dave Robicheaux has a keen self-awareness. That self-knowledge and reflection have helped him cope with some of the traumas he’s had to face, especially his Vietnam-era experiences. For instance in A Morning For Flamingoes, Robicheaux agrees to go undercover as a ‘dirty’ cop to try to trap New Orleans crime boss Tony Cardo. Part of his assignment is to get close to Cardo but that proves increasingly difficult for Robicheaux as he becomes aware that he has sympathy for his target. Throughout this novel, Robicheaux keeps himself as grounded as he can by ‘checking in with himself.’

Another of the multiple intelligences people have is musical intelligence. Obviously singers, composers and musical artists have a healthy dose of this kind of intelligence. But it’s more than just being able to sing or play music on key. It’s also a sense of rhythm and a keen awareness of sound. If you like a soundtrack when you work, or if you find yourself singing or whistling when you weren’t aware of it, or if you can’t help walking in time to the music when you walk past a car with its radio on, you know what I mean. And if you don’t, just ask Jill Edmondson’s Toronto PI Sasha Jackson, who used to be a rock singer and still does occasional gigs. Ian Rankin’s Inspector Rebus has musical intelligence as well although he’s hardly a famous rocker. His music collection matters a lot to him and there are lots of scenes in the Rebus novels (including a really well-done scene in Exit Music) in which he gets or listens to music.

Naturalist intelligence is actually pretty self-explanatory. People who are attuned to nature and its rhythms and who just ‘fit in’ in natural environments have a lot of naturalist intelligence. Garden enthusiasts, park rangers, those who are comfortable with animals and those who simply like to be outdoors are examples of those with naturalist intelligence. There’s a lot of it in crime fiction too. Tony Hillerman’s Jim Chee, Adrian Hyland’s Emily Tempest, and Nevada Barr’s Anna Pigeon are all examples of people who learn from and use nature as they solve crimes. So does Arthur Upfield’s Napoleon ‘Bony’ Bonaparte. These sleuths can tell much from weather patterns, animal activity, ground marks and other natural phenomena. In fact, they often find clues where others can’t.

Finally there’s what Gardner called existential intelligence, the most recent of his proposals. The big questions – the ‘why’ questions – appeal to people with a lot of existential intelligence. Philosophers and members of the clergy often wrestle with these larger questions. And sometimes getting philosophical can be helpful to a sleuth. It is to Alexander McCall Smith’s Isabel Dalhousie, who is the editor of Review of Applied Ethics. She doesn’t go out looking for physical clues, and she doesn’t search for patterns. Rather, she looks at the larger motivations people have, and considers the larger issues of morality.

You may be thinking, ‘But don’t all these sleuths also have other intelligences?’ They do indeed. That’s the thing about multiple intelligences. We’ve all got all of the intelligences to some degree. And what’s most interesting is that we can develop the ones we choose to develop.

Interested in taking a look at your own intelligences? Try this Multiple Intelligences Survey. It’s got 40 questions and took me about 10 minutes or so to complete.  By no means is it definite – it’s just one look at the way we learn and know. If you’re a writer, what intelligences does your protagonist have?

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from The Undertones’ Smarter Than You.

There’s No Business Like Show Business*

I’ve mentioned it before on this blog and I’ll say so again: there’s something about the theatre. Whether you like musical theatre, traditional plays or other kinds of productions, live theatre can be mesmerising. And theatre settings make terrific contexts for crime fiction. First, the buildings themselves are often full of history and secrets. And even new theatre buildings have all sorts of places to connive, to hide bodies and so on. And when you consider the mix of personalities, the egos involved, the stress of preparing for a show and all of the (pardon the pun) drama, you’ve got some very effective ingredients for a crime fiction novel.

Ngaio Marsh fans will know that she had a theatre background and often used that background in her novels. Just as one example (there are many!), in Opening Night (AKA Night at the Vulcan), Martyn Tarn moves from her home in New Zealand to try to make a name for herself in London theatre. She gets a chance to work at the Vulcan Theatre when famous actress Helena Hamilton needs a fill-in dresser. As she’s being shown round the theatre, Martyn hears an old Vulcan legend of a man who was killed in one of the dressing rooms. Not being the superstitious type, she doesn’t think much of the story. She settles into life at the Vulcan and it’s not long before she proves herself. In fact, she’s talented enough to be named Helena Hamilton’s understudy. Then Helena’s husband Clark Bennington dies by gas poisoning in what looks like a case of suicide. But his death eerily resembles the legend Martyn heard when she first came to the Vulcan. When Bennington’s death is shown to be murder, Inspector Roderick Alleyn (quite a lover of the theatre) investigates. Like many of Marsh’s other novels, this one shows us theatre life, theatre legends and old stories, and the kinds of people who get involved in theatre.

Simon Brett’s Charles Paris series has the theatre scene as its main focus. Paris is an actor who’s struggled a bit. He’s not lacking in talent, but he doesn’t have a very skilled agent. What’s worse, he also doesn’t have the best of judgement, he drinks much more than he should, and that’s part of why he’s separated from his wife. So his personal life isn’t exactly a source of happiness for him either. And yet, Paris loves the theatre and acting, and we see that throughout the series. In What Bloody Man is That?, Paris’ agent has managed to get him a ‘play as cast’ role in the Pintero Theatre, Warminster’s production of The Scottish Play. The final casting choices are made, rehearsals begin and Paris is soon busy with the production. Then one day shortly before opening night, rehearsals are even more of a nightmare than they usually are and everyone copes with the stress by heading towards the theatre’s bar. Paris joins them and drinks much more than he should. He lurches back to his dressing room and falls asleep there. Waking up at three in the morning, he finds himself locked in the theatre. He also finds that he’s not alone. Noted actor Warnock Belvedere has died of what turns out to be poison and Paris discovers his body. Thinking that he’ll be suspected of the murder, Paris decides to find out for himself who killed Belvedere. He’s got a lot of suspects to choose from too; Belvedere might have been a talented actor but he was also obnoxious, misogynistic and supremely arrogant. In the end, Paris figures out who killed Belvedere and as he does so, we get a good look at life ‘behind the curtain.’

Bev Robitai’s Theatre Mysteries series features Auckland’s Regent Theatre and its manager Jessica Jones Matherson. In Murder in the Second Row, the company is planning a production of Agatha Christie’s Appointment With Death (Hmm…wonder why that might have got my attention? ). Like most productions, this one has its share of stresses and challenges. One of them is the outsized ego of Simone Duchaine, who’s slated to take the role of Mrs. Boynton. She’s a diva who’s accustomed to being pampered, so it’s hard to work with her. And then there’s Tamara Fitzpatrick, who’s taking the role of Mrs. Boynton’s daughter-in-law Natalie. Tamara has succeeded in upsetting just about everyone and in hitting on just about all of the men in the cast. So when her body is discovered in the back row of one of the stalls, DSS Jack Matherson has quite a list of suspects. He’s also got a long list of suspects in Body on the Stage, in which the theatre plans a production called Ladies Night. Dennis Dempster is out of shape and out of sorts after his divorce. So his sister persuades him to do something to get him out of the house. He joins the crew of the Regent and soon finds himself involved in a murder case when Vincenzo Barino, who’s been helping to train the dancers, is killed. In both of these stories there’s an effective blend of character interplay, theatre life and of course, the Regent itself. Bev, if you’re reading this, I’m looking forward to the next Theatre Mystery.

Deborah Nicholson’s Kate Carpenter series features Calgary’s Foothill Stage Network and Carpenter, its house manager. This series begins with House Report, in which the body of Peter Reynolds is discovered in one of the building’s men’s washrooms. Reynolds was the ex-husband of one of the employees who works in the building where the Foothills Stage Network is housed. So there are soon several suspects in the case. Nicholson gets interested in the case in part because Reynolds’ body was found ‘on her watch’ and in part because of his connection to her theatre group. Then, her boyfriend Norman ‘Cam ‘ Caminski becomes a suspect, and Nicholson is more determined than ever to find out who the real killer is. This series gives readers an authentic look at ‘theatre people,’ life backstage and the work that goes into putting on a show.

In Christopher Fowler’s Full Dark House, John May of London’s Peculiar Crimes Unit (PCU) re-opens his first investigation with his partner Arthur Bryant. At the same time as May is re-opening the case in the present day, we follow the original 1940 investigation. At that time, the Palace Theatre is planning a production of Orpheus. Everything’s moving along until solo dancer Tanya Capistrania is murdered. Bryant and May are just beginning to look into that death when Charles Senechal, who is to play Jupiter in the production, is killed in what looks like a tragic accident with scenery. Then there’s another death. And a disappearance. Bit by bit, Bryant and May put the pieces together and after a ‘wrong turn’ or two, they find out who is behind the theatre disasters. But one piece of the case is not resolved and has consequences many years later. Those consequences are what prompt May to take another look at the case.

There are lots of other mysteries too that have theatre scenes (I’m thinking of Agatha Christie’s Sleeping Murder and Anthony Bidulka’s Flight of Aquavit) even if the whole story isn’t set ‘on stage.’  It’s easy to see why the theatre figures so much in crime fiction. The buildings are often terrific settings for murders, the character mix allows for lots of different possibilities, and there are plenty of possible motives. I’ve only had room for a few examples here, so I’m quite sure you’ll be able to add lots more. Which ones have you enjoyed?
 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is the title of an Irving Berlin song.

Well, Life on the Farm is Kinda Laid Back*

Erm… Not always. I didn’t grow up on a farm, but I did grow up near some of the most fertile land in the U.S. so farms were a big part of the scenery. And if you stop to think about it, farming is a fairly important part of life whether you live anywhere near farm country or not. Besides the delicious fresh food, one of the best things about farms from my perspective (I have never claimed to have a psychologically well-adjusted view ) is that they make terrific settings for murder mysteries. They are filled with good hiding places for bodies, and farm communities tend to be smaller and more close-knit than some other communities, so there are all kinds of opportunities for murder motives. And then there’s the fact that some farms are isolated, so all sorts of things can happen there…

The farm belonging to Rowley Cloade figures in Agatha Christie’s Taken at the Flood (AKA There is a Tide). Cloade is trying to manage the farm in the financially straitened years during and immediately after World War II and he’s just getting by. He’s not as worried about money as some farmers are though because his wealthy uncle Gordon Cloade has always promised to take care of the family financially. Then, to everyone’s shock, Gordon Cloade marries a young widow Rosaleen Underhay. Before he can alter his will to protect his family, Cloade is tragically killed in a bomb blast. Now Rosaleen is set to inherit all of her husband’s considerable fortune, leaving his family with nothing. Then a stranger calling himself Enoch Arden comes to the area. He drops hints that Rosaleen’s first husband didn’t die as she’d always said but is alive. If that’s true then she can’t inherit. So the Cloades have every interest in finding out whether Arden’s story is true. When he is killed one night, Rowley Cloade and the rest of his family are caught up in both a family squabble and a murder investigation. Hercule Poirot has already heard the story of Cloade’s marriage and of Rosaleen’s first husband, so when two members of the Cloade family approach him to investigate, he’s interested in doing so.

In Ngaio Marsh’s Died in the Wool, New Zealand MP Flossie Rubrick finds out just how deadly farms can be. She goes to an isolated sheep pen on her husband’s farm to prepare an important speech, but doesn’t return. Three weeks later, her body turns up inside a bale of wool. Rubrick’s nephew writes to Inspector Roderick Alleyn asking him to investigate and since this could very well involve matters of national security Alleyn travels to New Zealand to look into the case. When he arrives, Alleyn gets to know the various members of the victim’s family and he finds out that more than one member had a good reason to want her dead. In the end, the murder turns out to be related to an important secret that Rubrick had discovered about one family member in particular.

Henning Mankell’s Faceless Killers also shows how deadly farms can be. Johannes Lövgren and his wife Maria have a small farm not far from Ystad. One night they are brutally murdered. Ystad detective Kurt Wallander and his team are called in immediately. It’s too late to save Johannes, but Maria lives for a short time. She recovers consciousness just long enough to say the word foreign before she too dies. There is already simmering anti-immigration sentiment in the area and when the press learns what Maria Lövgren said just before she died, the situation gets even more inflamed and another murder is committed. Now Wallander has to deal with multiple murders as well as the threat of more violence. This case turns out to be simpler than it seems on the surface and one of the clues to the case turns out to be on the farm.

Linda Castillo’s series featuring police chief Kate Burkholder takes place in and around the Amish farming community of Painters Mill, Ohio. In Sworn to Silence, we learn that Burkholder was a member of the Amish community herself until she left it, for very good reasons, sixteen years earlier. Shortly after her return, the body of a young girl is found in a snowy field on a farm belonging to Isaak and Anna Stutz. Then another body is discovered. And another. These murders turn out to be connected to the reason that Burkholder left Painters Mill in the first place, so if she’s gong to catch the killer, Burkholder is also going to have to confront her own past. Besides the murder investigation, this series also gives readers a look at Amish farms and life in an Amish community.

Still interested in Amish farms? I don’t usually discuss films very much on this blog, but do see Peter Weir’s 1985 film Witness. It’s a suspenseful mystery and much of it takes place in the Amish community of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. In my opinion (so feel free to differ with me if you do), it’s an excellent portrayal of the Amish lifestyle as well as a solid mystery. Oh, and did I mention it features both Harrison Ford and Viggo Mortensen??

Oh, right. Farms.    Farmland turns out to be very important in Patricia Stoltey’s The Prairie Grass Murders. Former Vietnam veteran Willie Grisslejon pays a visit to the Illinois farming community where he grew up. He discovers the body of an unknown man in a field and tries to notify the local sheriff. That’s when he’s locked up as a vagrant and ordered to have a psychiatric evaluation. Willie calls his sister Sylvia Thorn, who at the time of this novel is a Florida judge, and she travels to Illinois to arrange for her brother’s release. When Willie insists on returning to the site where he found the body, they find that it has disappeared and there’ve been obvious attempts to cover up any trace of the dead man’s existence. Now Sylvia and Willie get involved in a mystery involving land disputes, corruption and greed – and a farm that seems to be the focus of a lot of what’s going on. Much of the novel takes place in the beautiful prairie farmland of Illinois.

In Martin Edwards’ The Hanging Wood, we meet Orla Payne, who works at St. Herbert’s, a residential library in the Lake District. Twenty years earlier, her brother Callum disappeared and was never found, but Orla has always believed he was murdered. She wants DCI Hannah Scarlett and her Cold Case Review team to investigate, but at first Scarlett doesn’t take her request seriously. And it’s hard to blame Scarlett for her reluctance. Orla Payne is unstable at the best of times and when she contacts Scarlett she’s been drinking so Scarlett doesn’t make it a priority. Then, Orla Payne’s body is discovered buried in a silo on Lane End Farm. There’s no way to tell at first whether she was murdered or committed suicide, so now, Scarlett and her team have a very new case to solve as well as the cold case of Callum Payne’s disappearance. With help from Oxford historian Daniel Kind, Scarlett discovers the truth about the farm, the history of the area and its families, and what really happened to Orla and Callum Payne.

Farming is a way of life for a lot of people and farms are an important part of the economy. They’re also really interesting settings for murder. I know I haven’t mentioned all of the great farm-related mysteries out there (for instance, I’m only getting acquainted with Nelson Brunanski’s Saskatchewan prairie/farmland novels, so I’m not really equipped to comment on them yet). Which ones have you enjoyed?

 

 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from John Denver’s Thank God I’m a Country Boy.

And I Go Where the Ocean is Deep*

For a lot of people there’s something exciting about boats and being on boats. It may be the lure of adventure or it may be the connection with the sea. And of course, there’s the reality that for plenty of people, boats represent their livelihood. Whatever the reason is, we seem to have a fascination with boats and ships. And if you think about it, boats and ships, with their dangers, legends and so on make very effective contexts for crime fiction novels. If you add to that the fact of disparate people being brought together, as can happen on a boat, it’s easy to see how boats and ships could figure into crime fiction. Of course, one post isn’t nearly enough space for me to mention all of the novels where boats and ships figure into the plot, but here are a few to show you what I mean.

In Agatha Christie’s Death on the Nile, newlyweds Linnet and Simon Doyle are on their honeymoon trip – a cruise of the Nile. On the second night of the journey Linnet is shot. The first suspect is Linnet’s former best friend Jacqueline ‘Jackie’ de Bellefort, whose fiancé Simon was before he met Linnet. But it’s soon proven that Jackie could not have committed the crime. Hercule Poirot and Colonel Race are on the same cruise and work together to find out who the murderer is. In this novel, it isn’t the actual boating or the ship itself that figures into the crime. Rather, Christie looks at the interactions of the different personalities who are on the same ship at the same time.

So does Ngaio Marsh in A Clutch of Constables. Painter and sculptor Agatha Troy decides to take a cruise on the Zodiac, but she soon finds that this isn’t going to be the relaxing and enjoyable trip she’d planned. First, one of the passengers is left behind and is later found murdered. Then another passenger is drowned. In the meantime and possibly related to the murders, Troy finds that an international art forger known only as the Jampot may very well be among those aboard the ship. As Troy gets more deeply involved in the mystery, she writes letters to her husband Inspector Roderick Alleyn and in them she tells him what’s happened. In an interesting plot strategy, Alleyn uses those letters to share the crimes and their solutions to a group of students in a class he’s teaching.

John D. MacDonald’s Travis McGee lives aboard a boat called The Busted Flush. As we learn in The Deep Blue Goodbye, he won the boat in a poker game (hence its name). McGee calls himself a ‘salvage consultant.’ What that really means is that he helps people recover what’s been stolen from them. For instance, in The Deep Blue Goodbye he agrees to track down something that was stolen from his client Catherine Kerr by the father of her son Davie. The big challenge at first is that Kerr’s not even sure what was stolen. McGee finds out what was taken and is able to track down both the stolen property and the thief. McGee takes in payment half of whatever is recovered for his clients and they are usually more than grateful to pay his fee. What’s interesting is that McGee could probably afford to live in a house if he wanted, but he doesn’t. He prefers his boat and his life on the sea. In several places in that novel (and in the other novels in the series too), we see McGee working on his boat. He paints, cleans, makes repairs and so on. That side of him adds depth to the character.

Carole Sutton comes from a family of boat builders, so it’s only natural that her love of boats should come through in her novels. In Ferryman, we meet Steve Pengelly, who moves to Guernsey to start over, as the saying goes. There, he meets Angela DuPont, who connects him with the seller of a beautiful thirty-eight-foot sailboat that Pengelly happily buys. His new life falls apart when Angela disappears and he is arrested and tried for her murder. There’s forensic evidence against him too and he is in fact convicted and imprisoned. Then, two years later, Angela’s body washes ashore. What’s shocking is that it’s proven that she died only a short time before her body was discovered. This means that Pengelly wasn’t guilty of the crime. Now DI Alan Grimstone has to go back to the beginning to find out the truth of the matter.

In Sutton’s And the Devil Laughed, DS Hannah Ford returns to work after taking some leave for post-traumatic stress. She’s assigned to go to Draper’s Wharf on Australia’s Parramata River to investigate possible drugs activity in the area. Posing as a journalist she settles in and begins to get a sense of the place. She soon discovers that there’s been a recent tragedy in town. Local barmaid Victoria Brown was raped and murdered. Her killer hasn’t been caught, so Ford begins to ask questions about the case even though she hasn’t been officially asked to do so. Part of the reason for her interest in the case comes from her desire to prove herself fit for work. Another part comes from the fact that she was distantly related to the victim. As Ford investigates this case as well as the drugs smuggling, we get a real feel for the local boating and boat-building culture.

Boats have long been used for smuggling of course, and we get a real sense of that in Jeffrey Stone’s Play Him Again, which takes place in 1920’s Los Angeles during the years of Prohibition in the U.S.  In that novel we meet Matt ‘Hud’ Hudson, who makes his money smuggling alcohol on his boat The River Belle. His dream is to become a film-maker in the newly-developing Hollywood scene and at the moment, he’s using his smuggling income until he can. When his friend Danny is murdered, Hud decides to find out who the murderer is. He soon finds out though that he’s up against several forces. First, there are rival smuggling groups and a large criminal gang that’s moving into the area. There’s also the fact that the smuggling Hud’s doing is illegal, so the police aren’t going to be co-operative. But Hud keeps looking for answers and he discovers how Danny’s murder is related to the ‘rum-running’ and to the developing film industry. There are plenty of scenes aboard The River Belle in this novel, so we get a chance to see what a boat that’s been refitted for smuggling is like.

Of course more than just about anything else, boats are used for fishing and that’s the focus of Domingo Villar’s Death on a Galician Shore. Vigo police inspector Leo Caldas and his team are called in when the body of local fisherman Justo Castelo is discovered. At first it looks as though he committed suicide. But little clues suggest that he might have been murdered, so Caldas and his assistant Rafael Estevez look into the case further. As they find out about Castelo’s background, they discover that Castelo’s murder may be related to a 1996 tragedy in which Castelo and two other fishermen José Arias and Marcos Valverde nearly drowned while they were aboard a fishing vessel. Their captain Antonio Sousa did drown and none of the survivors has been the same since then. Caldas and Estevez have to learn exactly what happened that night to get to the truth about Castelo’s death. This novel shows readers what the fisherman’s life is like, from early-morning fish markets to sudden and terrible storms to building and maintaining fishing boats.

We also see the fishing life depicted in Sandy Curtis’ Deadly Tide. Alan ‘Tug’ Bretton is the captain of Sea Mistress, a trawler based in Brisbane. He’s accused of murdering Ewan McKay, the deckhand from another boat. Bretton claims that he’s innocent, but all of the evidence is against him. There’s also a possibility that Bretton and Sea Mistress may be connected to the drugs trade. Bretton’s daughter Samantha ‘Sam’ believes her father is innocent and she wants to find out who killed McKay. Besides, if the family-owned trawler doesn’t go out to sea, the ship may be lost to creditors. So Bretton reluctantly turns the skipper position over to his daughter. Sam begins both to start the fishing season and to try to find out who killed Ewan McKay. What she doesn’t know is that Chayse Jarrett, the deckhand she’s just hired, is an undercover cop who’s been assigned to the McKay murder too. As the two of them, first separately and later together, investigate the murder, we also see what it’s like to live on and operate a fishing trawler.

Whether they’re used for work, sport, relaxation or smuggling, boats and boating have been an essential part of our lives for millennia. Their fascination still lures a lot of people. Do you see the appeal? I know I’ve probably not mentioned the boat-related crime novels you like best because there’s not enough space to mention them all. So now it’s your turn. Which gaps have I left?

 

 
 

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

If We Weren’t All Crazy We Would go Insane*

Sometimes life gets cold and sad. We see a lot of that in crime fiction because of course it so often deals with murder and loss and the sadness that goes with them. So every once in a while it’s good to lighten things up and refresh ourselves. One way authors of crime fiction do that is by including zany characters in their novels. Of course that’s a little risky. Too much zaniness and the character won’t be believable. But a little craziness now and again adds a refreshing dose of humour to a story and can add individuality to a character if it’s done well.

In Agatha Christie’s The Clocks for instance, special agent Colin Lamb goes to the town of Crowdean in search of a clue that may lead him to a major espionage ring. He’s passing by one of the houses in the development where he thinks the clue may lie when a young woman rushes out the front door screaming that there’s a dead man inside. Lamb does his best to help the young woman calm down. Then he goes into the house. He finds that she’s absolutely right; there’s an unidentified dead man in the living room. The owner of the house Millicent Pebmarsh claims not to know the man and the only identification he has with him is a fake business card. So Lamb and DI Richard Hardcastle begin door-to-door interviews with the families in the development. One of the first people they visit is Mrs. Hemming, who lives next door to Miss Pebmarsh and so could have seen what happened. Mrs. Hemming though was far too preoccupied with her seventeen cats to notice anything. She’s extremely eccentric, absent-minded and oblivious to just about anything not related to her cats. She does give Lamb and Hardcastle a clue though, and Poirot helps them use that clue.

Ngaio Marsh’s A Surfeit of Lampreys (AKA Death of a Peer) introduces us to a number of zany characters. In that novel, the Lamprey family makes a visit to New Zealand, where they meet Roberta Grey, who can’t help but be charmed by them. And the fact that they’re eccentric only adds to that appeal. Then, Roberta’s own parents die and she moves to London to live with an aunt. That’s when she meets the Lampreys again. Delighted to see her, the family virtually adopts her. Then tragedy strikes. The Lampreys are not good financial planners and are constantly on the brink of financial ruin. When Lord Charles Lamprey asks his wealthy brother Gabriel ‘Uncle G’ for financial help, the unpleasant Uncle G refuses. Shortly afterwards he’s murdered. Chief Inspector Roderick Alleyn investigates the murder and all of the Lampreys come under suspicion. Roberta doesn’t want any of them to be arrested and she does her best to see that that doesn’t happen. And that’s the thing about the way Marsh paints these characters. We don’t want them to be guilty either. They’re goofy and eccentric and that’s part of what makes them so sympathetic.

Carl Hiaasen has created a number of zany characters, and that’s part of what makes his work so appealing (well, at least to me). In Skinny Dip for instance, we are introduced to Charles ‘Chaz’ Perrone, a marine biologist in name only who’s always looking for a new angle as the saying goes. He gets a job working for agribusiness executive Samual Johnson ‘Red’ Hammernut, who needs Perrone to prove that his business is not a threat to the local Everglades environment. Perrone has developed a way to do just that by falsifying water samples, so the two enter into a business arrangement. Then Perrone’s wife Joey begins to suspect what her husband’s doing and threatens to reveal it. So on the pretense of taking her on a cruise to celebrate their anniversary, he pushes her overboard. The only problem is, Joey is a champion-level swimmer and survives. Then she decides to find out why her husband tried to kill her and take revenge in her own way. In the course of this novel we meet Medea, Chaz’ Perrone’s sometimes girlfriend. She’s a ‘new age’ reflexologist with some unusual beliefs and an eccentric way of dressing. And then there’s Broward County, Florida detective Karl Rolvaag, who investigates Joey’s disappearance and suspects her husband almost from the first. Rolvaag keeps pet pythons, much to the dismay of those who share his apartment building. There are other goofy characters too but what makes them most effective is that they have enough depth and personality to be realistic.

And then there’s Riley Adams’ (AKA Elizabeth Spann Craig’s) Cherry Hayes.  She works as a volunteer docent at Elvis Presley’s Memphis home Graceland, and is of course a Presley fanatic. In fact, she has a crash helmet with a picture of Presley on it. And part of what makes her zany is that she firmly believes that danger can come from anywhere and that it’s best to be prepared, so she wears her helmet everywhere. She wears somewhat flamboyant clothes and she’s outspoken. Her quirks and zaniness make her very appealing. But they don’t take away from her depth as a character. In Hickory Smoked Homicide for instance, Cherry’s good friend Lulu Taylor gets involved in a case of murder when Lulu’s daughter-in-law Sara is suspected of murdering local beauty pageant coach Tristan Pembroke. Lulu is sure that Sara is innocent and begins to investigate the murder. Cherry, for all of her goofiness, is smart and observant as well as a loyal friend. So she helps in the investigation and in the end, she shows up just at the right moment to help Lulu at a critical moment.

Andrea Camilleri’s Sergeant Catarella is also goofy. He’s sometimes hilariously incompetent, especially when it comes to pronouncing people’s names. And he is so determined to do his job well, and so anxious to ‘get it right’ that he gets a lot of things wrong. Because of his eccentricities he drives his boss Inspector Salvo Montalbano to distraction. Montalbano especially hates it when Catarella disturbs him early in the morning – which always seems to happen. And yet, he’s not completely a mindlessly comical character. Catarella does his job, passes along messages, and so on. And one can’t help liking him for trying so very hard. As an aside, in my opinion (so please feel free to differ with me if you do), Angelo Russo is brilliantly cast as Catarella in the Montalbano television series. I recommend the series, folks.

Of course, sometimes the main sleuth is a little zany too. Robert Crais’ Elvis Cole is. He has a Mickey Mouse clock on the wall of his office and likes to wear Hawai’ian shirts. Even to formal meetings with clients. He is a sort of geeky character too. But that’s a big part of his appeal. He’s so goofy it’s cool. And Crais lets readers see beneath the surface of Cole’s character, so that we know he’s more than just a goofball who wears Disney-themed sweatshirts. He’s smart, resourceful and interesting. And zany.

So go ahead. Wear a silly paper hat. Burst into song in public. Why not? A little zaniness can do a lot to clear away some of life’s sadness.

 

 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Jimmy Buffett’s Changes in Latitudes.