Category Archives: Angela Savage

In Restless Dreams I Walked Alone*

benjamin-braddocksOne of the more famous film characters is Benjamin Braddock, from Mike Nichols’ 1967 film, The Graduate. He’s bright, and has a university degree, but is still, in his way, naïve. He has his own way of thinking, so in some ways he’s a non-conformist. He’s also at that young-adult stage of sexual experimentation and trying to work out what path he wants to take.

There are plenty of characters like that in crime fiction. Not all of them, of course, meet up with a ‘Mrs. Robinson,’ but they’re all finding their way, and experimenting with the larger world. Here are just a few examples to show you what I mean.

In Agatha Christie’s Appointment With Death, we meet Raymond Boynton. He, his sister Carol, and their brother Lennox, are all the stepchildren of the family matriarch Mrs. Boynton, She’s tyrannical, malicious, and manipulative. Raymond and Carol, in particular, are desperate to free themselves of her, but they’re far too afraid to try life on their own. Then, Mrs. Boynton takes her family on a trip through the Middle East, including a few days at Petra. During this trip, Raymond meets newly-fledged doctor Sarah King. He’s smitten with her, and the feeling is mutual. But of course, Raymond doesn’t want to risk upsetting his mother. Still, he wants to break free from his very sheltered existence and from his stepmother’s negative influence. Then one afternoon, Mrs. Boynton dies of what looks at first like heart failure. Colonel Carbury, who’s in charge of investigations in the area, isn’t satisfied, though. He asks Hercule Poirot to look into the matter, and Poirot agrees. As it turns out, this death was not from natural causes, and Raymond becomes a suspect.

John Dickson Carr’s Hag’s Nook introduces readers to Tad Rampole. He’s American, and a recent university graduate. He’s planned a trip abroad, and his mentor has strongly suggested that he take the opportunity to meet Dr. Gideon Fell during his travels in England. Rampole is on his way to do just that when he meets Dorothy Starberth. He’s immediately taken with her, and she seems to like him, too. When he does meet Fell, Rampole learns more about the Starberth family history. As it turns out, for several generations, the Starberths were Governors at the now-abandoned Chatterham Prison. Tthat position seems to have come with a curse, as many of the male Starberths have met with untimely ends. Still, each male Starberth has followed a particular ritual on the night of his twenty-fifth birthday. The ritual includes spending the night in the old governor’s room at the prison, unlocking the safe that’s in the room, and following the instructions written on a sheet of paper that’s kept in that safe. It’s now the turn of Dorothy Starberth’s brother, Martin, and despite the curse, he’s going to go through with the ritual. On the night of his twenty-fifth birthday, Martin is in the governor’s room at the prison when he dies of what looks like a tragic fall from the balcony. But was it an accident? Fell and Rampole work to find out the truth. Rampole is bright, educated and so on. He’s also a little naïve, and this is his first experience with murder. He offers an interesting perspective on the case, as he looks at it with young eyes, if I can put it that way.

Angela Savage’s Rajiv Patel is originally from India. But he wanted to get a chance to see the world. So, he went to Bangkok, in part to help out in his uncle’s bookshop. That’s where, in The Half Child, he meets Savage’s other protagonist, PI Jayne Keeney. Patel is fascinated, and Keeney likes him, too. Before long, they begin dating, but more than that, Patel wants to be a part of her PI business. So, when Keeney goes to Pattaya to investigate the death of Maryanne Delbeck, Patel goes, too. As the case goes on, he and Keeney do have their ups and downs, and things don’t always go smoothly. But they do care deeply for each other, and it turns out that their skills are complementary.

At the beginning of Seán Haldane’s The Devil’s Making, it’s 1868, and Chad Hobbes has just completed his degree in Jurisprudence at Oxford. Now he’s on his way to Vancouver, where he’s given a job as a constable. His duties are, for the most part, quite light: breaking up the occasional drunken quarrel, serving guard duty, and occasionally removing the local prostitutes. Everything changes one day when a group of Tsimshian Indians reports finding the body of Richard McCrory. The victim was an ex-pat American, in Canada to advance his business as an ‘alienist’ – a psychiatrist in the time before modern psychological and psychiatric work. At the time of his death, McCrory was involved with one of the Tsimshian women, Lukswaas. So, her partner, Wiladzap, is the primary suspect. He claims to be innocent, and the police need to make at least a show of investigating. So, Hobbes is tasked with asking a few perfunctory questions and ‘rubber stamping’ the theory that Wiladzap is guilty. But the more questions he asks, the less sure Hobbes is that Wiladzap is really the killer. And, as we learn, there are plenty of other possibilities. Hobbes is a bright young man. He is also sexually inexperienced, and not accustomed to interacting with people from different ethnic groups. So, this experience in Vancouver is very new to him. So are his feelings for Lukswaas. He’s attracted to her, being heterosexual. But he’s gotten conflicting messages about women, and certainly about non-whites. It’s an interesting look at a formative time in Hobbes’ life.

And then there’s Laura Joh Rowland’s Shinjū, the first of her historical novels to feature Sano Ichirō. It’s 1687 in Edo (now Tokyo), and Sano is a yoriki, a senior investigator and police officer. One day, he is asked to handle what he is told is ‘a small matter.’ The bodies of well-born Niu Yukiko, and an artist named Noriyoshi are pulled from the river. The presumption is that this is a case of two lovers whose social class separates them. Since they can’t be together, they’ve chosen to commit suicide. This isn’t uncommon in this place at this time, so Sano is expected to write and file a report very quickly and get the matter handled quietly. But soon, questions arise about that explanation. And Sano begins to believe that murder is involved. His choice to investigate gets him into enough trouble as it is. But he adds to that when the trail leads to some very high places. As he searches for the truth, Sano isn’t completely naïve. But this is his first major, important case, and he learns some (sometimes very unpleasant) lessons about what the life of the powerful is like.

And that’s the thing about characters such as Benjamin Braddock. They may be bright, educated, and interesting people. But they certainly have a lot to learn about the world…

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel’s The Sound of Silence.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Angela Savage, John Dickson Carr, Laura Joh Rowland, Seán Haldane

I Must Be On My Way*

authorsandtravelAn interesting post from Brad, who blogs at ahsweetmysteryblog, has got me thinking about fictional sleuths who travel to foreign countries. In his post (which you should read), Brad shows the link between Agatha Christie’s personal life (fans will know that she spent time in the Middle East) and the setting for some of her work (e.g. Death on the Nile).

Christie is by no means the only example, either. Plenty of crime writers who’ve been to other countries make use of that experience when they write. And that makes sense, if you think about it. We’re all influenced by our experience; that’s just as true of crime writers as it is for anyone else.

Jean-Denis Bruet-Ferreol, who writes under the pseudonym Mallock, is French, as is his creation, Amédée Mallock of the Paris CID. In Cemetery of Swallows, Mallock travels from France to the Dominican Republic. It seems a French citizen, Manuel Gemoni, went to that country specifically to kill Tobias Darbier, a Dominican citizen. When questioned by the police, Gemoni killed Darbier because,
 

‘‘…he had killed me first.’’
 

Gemoni’s sister, Julie, works for the CID, and wants to help her brother as much as she can. He’s been badly injured, so the plan is to bring him back to France and then, as soon as his condition allows, have him answer to the charges brought against him. Mallock finds, though, that this is not going to be an easy case. As though the legal complications of this case weren’t enough, there’s also the enigma surrounding what Gemoni said. He can’t be much help in the investigation, so Mallock and the team have to dig into the histories of both men to find out what’s behind this killing. While I don’t know for a fact that Bruet-Ferreol has been to the Dominican Republic, I wouldn’t be surprised.

Anna Jaquiery has lived in several places, and that has influenced her writing. In Death in a Rainy Season, for instance, her sleuth, Paris Commandant Serge Morel, has gone to Phnom Penh for a holiday. While he’s there, another French citizen, Hugo Quercy, is murdered in his hotel room. The victim was the son of the French Interior Minister, so the French police have every motivation to look into the matter and find out what happened. Morel cuts his holiday short and starts to ask questions. And as he does, he finds that there are several possibilities. Not the least of them is that Quercy was the head of a humanitarian group, and had been looking (perhaps a little too closely) into reports of land-grabbing in the area. Like her creation, Jaquiey was born in France. But she has lived in many places, including Russia (you can see a trace of that in The Lying Down Room) and Southeast Asia. So, it’s not surprising that those travels have influenced her writing.

Both Andrew Nette and his partner, Angela Savage, are Australian (currently Melbourne-based). But they’ve lived in Southeast Asia as well, including Thailand and Cambodia. That experience has found its way into their crime writing. Nette’s Ghost Money, which features Australian ex-cop Max Quinlan, takes place mostly in Bangkok and Cambodia. In that novel, Quinlan is hired to find out what happened to Charles Avery, who seems to have disappeared from his Bangkok apartment. The trail leads to Phnom Penh, and then to the northern part of Cambodia.

Savage’s series features PI Jayne Keeney. Originally from Melbourne, Keeney has settled in Bangkok, where she’s found a market for her ability to navigate two very different cultures. In Behind the Night Bazaar, The Half Child, and The Dying Beach, Keeney travels to different parts of Thailand, and the novels reflect that context. It’s interesting to see how both of these authors have written novels that reflect their experiences in other countries.

The same is true of Paddy Richardson. Like most of her protagonists, she is from New Zealand. But she’s been on several travels, including to Leipzig. That experience is reflected in Swimming in the Dark. In that novel, we meet Ilse Klein and her mother, Gerda. Both are originally from Leipzig, but left in order to escape the Stasi, the feared East German secret police. Now, Ilse is a secondary school teacher in the small South Island town of Alexandria. Everything changes when Ilse begins to get concerned about one of her students, Serena Freeman. Once one of Ilse’s most academically promising pupils, Serena has stopped coming to class regularly. When she does show up, she has no interest in the content or in participating in class. Then, Serena disappears. Now, Ilse and Gerda find themselves drawn into this mystery in ways they hadn’t imagined. In this novel, we learn the backstories of both Gerda and Ilse. That part of the story takes place in Leipzig, so readers get the chance to see what the city was like during the Cold War, and what it’s like now. It’s an interesting example of the way in which foreign travel has found its way into an author’s work.

And, as I say, that’s not really surprising. All of our experiences impact us in some way or other. So, it’s only natural that, when authors travel to another country, that might be reflected in their work. Which examples have stayed with you?

Thanks, Brad, for the inspiration. Now, may I suggest your next blog stop should be ahsweetmysteryblog? It’s a fantastic and thoughtful resource for thought-provoking posts on crime fiction.
 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from the Hoodoo Gurus’ 10000 Miles Away.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Andrew Nette, Angela Savage, Anna Jaquiery, Jean-Denis Bruet-Ferreol

To a Land of Opportunity*

immigrationOne of a country’s great strengths is arguably the talent, energy and intelligence of those who immigrate. Fresh ideas and other perspectives add richness to a country. Of course, there is no need for me to detail how difficult immigration can be. And I think we’re all familiar with the all-too-true horror stories of immigrants who’ve been mistreated or worse. There are plenty of crime fiction novels that have that motif, too.

But there are also stories of immigrants who’ve made good lives in their new homes, where both they and their adopted countries have benefited. Those stories, too, are important. And in crime fiction, they allow for all sorts of character development and plot twists, too. They also reflect reality in our world, where it’s increasingly easy to move from one country to another.

Fans of Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot will know that he is originally from Belgium. He came to England as a result of World War I, and quite frankly, hasn’t really looked back. There are things about life in Belgium that he no doubt misses; in general, though, he is content in his adopted home. Interestingly, apart from a few characters and remarks (I know, fans of Taken at the Flood), he’s been more or less accepted. He’s most definitely a foreigner, and treated differently sometimes for that reason. But he’s been accepted.

So has Rex Stout’s Nero Wolfe, who immigrated to the United States from Montenegro when he was a young man. He’s become an American citizen, and has had a good experience in his new country. In fact, he’s grateful to the United States, and has done well.

One of the main characters in Anya Lipska’s series is Janusz Kiszka, who immigrated to London from his native Poland. Now he is a sort of ‘fixer’ in London’s Polish community. He knows how to get things done, whom to talk to, and so on. And he knows most of the other people in the community. So he proves to be very helpful to DC Natalie Kershaw. The two are very different, and certainly come from different cultural backgrounds. But they slowly learn to work together and trust each other. Kiszka is content with his Polish cultural identity. At the same time, though, he has no burning desire to return to Poland. His immigrant experience has been more or less a successful one, and he’s made a new life for himself in London.

We might say a similar thing about Gerda Klein, whom we meet in Paddy Richardson’s Swimming in the Dark. Gerda and her husband, along with their daughter Ilse, emigrated from Leipzig, in the former East Germany, when Ilse was a child. They ended up on New Zealand’s South Island, in the small town of Alexandria, and made a good life for themselves. And New Zealand has been, in the main, welcoming to them. For that, Gerda is grateful, and she’s been more than content to stay in her adopted country, even after Germany’s reunification. Ilse, though, has a different perspective. She, too, has been treated well, and has made a good life for herself (she’s a secondary school teacher). But she was a child when the family left Leipzig, and doesn’t have the troubling memories of the Stasi (the East German secret police) that her mother has. Still, she likes New Zealand, and has done a fine job teaching. Her dedication is exactly why she starts to get concerned when one of her most promising pupils, Serena Freeman, loses interest in school. When she does come to class (which isn’t often), she doesn’t participate. And she doesn’t compete much schoolwork. Ilse grows even more worried when Serena disappears. And it turns out that she and her mother will get more drawn into what happened to Serena than either imagined.

In Three Little Pigs, Apostolos Doxiadis tells the story of the Franco family, who immigrated to New York from Italy at the turn of the 20th Century. Benvenuto ‘Ben’ Franco started out making a living as a shoemaker. As time went on, he and his family saved their money, adopted many American ways (they even changed their last name to Frank), and began to fit in. Ben opened his own shoe repair shop and shoe store, and the family prospered. In many ways, this family began to live what some people have called ‘the American dream.’ Everything changed when Ben got into a bar fight one night and ended up killing Luigi Lupo, who, as it turns out, was the son of a well-known criminal and member of the Mob, Tonio Lupo. This Lupo cursed the family, saying that each of Ben Frank’s three sons will die at the age of forty-two, Luigi’s age when he was murdered. As we follow along with the family’s story, we see how the curse played out. We also see how that family became not Italian so much as Italian-Americans.

And then there’s Jen Shieff’s The Gentlemen’s Club. In that novel, which takes place in 1950’s Auckland, we are introduced to Istvan Ziegler. He left his native Hungary after World War II, wanting to make a new life for himself. After a stop in London, he learns that there’s work available on a new bridge at Auckland Harbour, and decides to go there. He has no family, and there’s nothing really keeping him in Europe, so he takes a chance. When he arrives in Auckland, he starts work on the bridge. There are moments when things are more difficult for him because he’s a foreigner. But in general, he’s treated fairly and shows by his hard work that he can do the job. And that’s what really matters. Istvan soon finds himself drawn into complex and dangerous situation when he helps a young girl, Judith Curran, recover from a (then illegal) abortion. It turns out that that act gets him involved in a case that uncovers some truly ugly things going on just under the surface of this seemingly peaceful city.

There are plenty of other stories of fictional characters who’ve immigrated successfully, and of their families (right, fans of Anthony Bidulka’s Russel Quant?). That plot point offers the author some interesting opportunities for character development as well as for a sense of place and culture. There’s only space for a few examples here (I know, fans of Angela Savage’s Jayne Keeney and Rajiv Patel!). Which ones have stayed with you?

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from The Pogues’ Thousands are Sailing.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Angela Savage, Anthony Bidulka, Anya Lipska, Apostolos Doxiadis, Jen Shieff, Paddy Richardson, Rex Stout

We Stand as One…Undivided*

pi-partnershipsWhen we think of fictional PIs, the ones who may quickly come to mind are ‘lone wolves,’ such as Raymond Chandler’s Philip Marlowe or Sara Paretsky’s V.I. Warshawski. There are plenty of other examples, too, and it makes sense that we’d think of them. A lot of PIs have their own businesses. And some, such as Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot, or Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes, work with associates who aren’t business partners.

But there are benefits to having an official PI partner. For one thing, the costs and risks are shared. For another, two PIs can work on more cases than can one PI. That means more business. So plenty of PIs, both real and fictional, work with a partner rather than go it alone. It’s not always an easy relationship, of course. There are logistics, matters of finance, and decision-making that have to be worked out between people who are bound to disagree at times. But a PI partner can add a variety of strengths to a business. After all, no one person can do everything, let alone do it well.

There are plenty of PI partnerships in the genre, too. For instance, technically, Rex Stout’s Nero Wolfe is Archie Goodwin’s employer. So in that sense, they are not partners. But any fan of the series can tell you that Goodwin makes plenty of the decisions, has plenty of autonomy, and actually runs the business to a much greater extent than Wolfe would probably care to admit. So, although you may disagree with me (and feel free to if you do), I think of Wolfe and Goodwin as PI partners more than employer and employee.

Robert Crais’ Elvis Cole and Joe Pike offer an interesting contrast when it comes to a PI duo. Cole is more personable and outgoing than his partner. He has his quirks (do you know another fictional PI who wears a Mickey Mouse sweatshirt and has a Disney clock in his office?). But he’s the one, in general, who interacts with clients. He can be snarky at times, but he’s the one who does the talking. Pike, on the other hand, is taciturn. He’s a former US Marine who now owns a gun shop. He is, in a way, the ultimate ‘bad boy’ who wears sunglasses all the time, always carries weapons, and so on. But at the same time, he’s got his own code. And he’s the only one who can interact with the feral cat that shares Cole’s home. In many ways, he and Cole couldn’t be more different. But they respect each other and they depend on one another’s skills.

Betty Webb’s Lena Jones and her business partner, Jimmy Sisiwan, own Desert Investigations, a Scottsdale, Arizona PI firm. Jones is a former police officer with her own history and personal scars. She’s able to use her police background and the grit that comes from her personal past as she investigates. Sisiwan is a member of the Pima Nation. He lives in a trailer on the Reservation, and prefers a simple, uncomplicated life. He’s the computer expert of this PI team (in fact, in Desert Run, Sisiwan is lured away from the PI world by Southwest Microsystems). Jones and Sisiwan have a number of differences, but their skills are complementary, and they make an effective team.

S.J. Rozan has chosen an interesting approach to writing her Lydia Chin and Bill Smith series. Each is an independent PI, but they do work together on some cases. And in many ways, they’re very different people. Chin Ling Wan-ju, who usually goes by the name of Lydia Chin, is an American-born Chinese PI. She lives and works in New York City’s Chinatown. She keeps some of the traditions of her Chinese family, but she’s also American. Her family strongly disapproves of her occupation, and her mother would like very much for her to find a Chinese man and settle down. But Chin has other plans. She’s as comfortable speaking English as she is speaking Cantonese, and her ability to negotiate both cultures is an asset. Bill Smith, twelve years older than Chin, lives alone over a bar. He’s seen plenty of life, and is much more cynical than Chin is, although he’s not hardened. Fans of this series will know that the books are written from alternating points of view, in first person. Some are written from Chin’s perspective; others are written from Smith’s. This allows readers to get to know both PIs, and lets readers in on how they perceive each other.

And then there’s Angela Savage’s Jayne Keeney and Rajiv Patel. They’re a Bangkok-based PI team, and partners in life as well. Their partnership has taken adjustment on both sides. Keeney is Australian by birth and culture, but has adapted to living in Thailand. She speaks fluent Thai, and is very much accustomed to living independently and making her own business and personal choices. Patel is originally from India, but moved to Bangkok in part to help in his uncle’s book shop (that’s how he and Keeney met).  Learning to work as a team isn’t always easy for these two PIs. They’re both bright, strong-willed people who have very different cultural backgrounds and different perspectives. But they’ve found that they have complementary skills and knowledge. And they care deeply for each other.

And that’s the thing about PI partnerships. In the most successful ones, the partners bring different strengths to the job, and learn to trust each other. They know that they do much better working together than either could do alone. They might argue from time to time; but in the end, they respect each other and work together, rather than at cross purposes. This post has only allowed space for me to mention a few PI teams. Which ones do you like best?

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Bon Jovi’s Undivided.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Angela Savage, Arthur Conan Doyle, Betty Webb, Rex Stout, Robert Crais, S.J. Rozan

And a Man is Held in a Foreign Jail*

international-arrestsWith travel as straightforward (if not always easy!) as it is in now, there’s more international travel than ever. And in crime fiction, that means it’s more likely that a suspect might easily be from another country. That can present some legal issues, which can add an interesting layer of complexity to a story. And then there are the cultural issues, too. So it’s not surprising that this sort of story has made its way into the genre.

In Angela Savage’s Behind the Night Bazaar, for instance, Bangkok-based PI Jayne Keeney works to find out the truth behind two murders. One is the killing of her good friend Didier ‘Didi’ de Montpasse. The other is the murder of his partner, Nou. The trail puts Keeney on an intersecting course with Australian Federal Police (AFP) agent Mark D’Angelo. He’s in Thailand as a part of an effort to put a dent in the child sex trafficking industry by going after Australian perpetrators. It’s a challenge to begin with, made all the more difficult by the cultural differences between Australia and Thailand. Admittedly, D’Angelo is not the reason for the two murders. But his reason for being in Thailand sheds an interesting light on facing the issue of crimes that are committed by citizens of another country.

We also see that in Stefan Tegenfalk’s Project Nirvana, the second of his trilogy featuring Stockholm County police detectives Walter Gröhn and Jonna de Brugge. In this novel, the German police are working on a case in which four scientists have been murdered. They suspect a Swedish man named Leo Brageler, who’s currently in Germany. However, there doesn’t seem to be a real motive for the crime. The German authorities are hoping that they can get some background on the man from Swedish authorities, and ask for help from the Swedish National Bureau of Investigation. Then Brageler goes missing, and the case gets much more complicated…

The real action in T.J. Cooke’s Kiss and Tell begins when Bella Kiss, a Hungarian national, arrives at Heathrow Airport. She’s trying to smuggle in drugs, but she’s caught and quickly arrested. She admits to having the drugs, but she won’t say who paid or coerced her into bringing them to the UK. Once in custody, she asks to speak to London attorney Jill Shadow. Shadow has never heard of Bella Kiss before, but she goes to the prison where the young woman is being held. There, Bella asks for her help and seems very much afraid for her life. But she’s uncooperative, so Shadow soon sees that she’ll have to find the answers for herself. The closer she gets to the truth, the more in danger she finds herself. And it turns out that this case goes far beyond a woman trying to earn a little extra money by smuggling drugs. There’s an interesting look in this novel at the legalities of working with clients from other countries who’ve been arrested in the UK.

In Marla Cooper’s Terror in Taffeta, San Francisco- based event planner Kelsey McKenna is in the small Mexican town of San Miguel de Allende, managing the destination wedding of Nicole Abernethy and Vince Moreno. During the festivities, Dana Poole, one of the bridesmaids, collapses and dies of what turns out to be poison. For several reasons, the police suspect the bride’s sister Zoe, and she is duly arrested and imprisoned. She claims to be innocent, and Kelsey believes her. So she starts to ask questions. One of the plot threads in this novel is the challenge of being arrested while one’s in a foreign country.

Geoffrey Robert’s The Alo Release introduces readers to the Los Angeles-based Millbrook Foundation, an environmentalist watchdog group. Along with many others, the Millbrook people are concerned about a new, genetically modified seed coating that a company called Vestco is about to release. Millbrook’s people are suspicious of Vestco’s claims and its agenda, and have worked to stop the release. They haven’t been successful. With nine days to go, the foundation’s leaders have decided to stop fighting Vestco, and turn their energies elsewhere. Legendary environmental activist Jay Duggan has taken this opportunity to retire to his native New Zealand, and has invited Science Director Dr. Catherine ‘Cat’ Taylor, and IT Director Matthew Liddell to visit him in New Zealand before they return to work. Then, Vestco employee Henry Beck is found murdered, and Duggan, Taylor and Liddell are framed for the killing. Unaware of this, they land in New Zealand, and soon find that they’re considered international fugitives. Now, they have to go up against some very powerful people, to say nothing of the police of two countries, as they work to find out who really killed Beck and what the truth is about the release of the new seed coating.

And then there’s Jean-Denis Bruet-Ferreol’s Cemetery of Swallows. That novel begins as Manuel Gemoni travels from France to the Dominican Republic. There, he kills an old man named Tobias Darbier, a Dominican citizen. He’s been badly injured, so Police Commissioner Amédée Mallock of the Paris CID has been sent to bring Gemoni back to France as soon as his condition allows. Then he’ll face justice for what he’s done. Mallock is especially interested in this case because Gemoni’s sister, Julie, works for the CID as well. When he gets to the Dominican Republic finds that the only thing Gemoni says about the killing is that he killed Darbier,
 

‘…because he had killed me.’
 

That response doesn’t help Mallock at all, so he has to start digging to find out the history of the two men. One of the plot threads running through this novel is the paperwork and bureaucracy involved in taking Gemoni into French custody without causing problems with the Dominican authorities. It makes for an interesting layer in this novel.

With more people than ever going to different countries, it makes sense that this plot point would find its way into crime fiction. And it certainly has. Which novels with this motif have stayed with you?

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Graham Parker’s Everything Goes.

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Filed under Angela Savage, Geoffrey Robert, Jean-Denis Bruet-Ferreol, Marla Cooper, Stefan Tegenfalk, T.J. Cooke