Category Archives: Angela Savage

Watching the Tide Roll Away*

Bodies Washed UpSince most murderers don’t want to be caught, one of their concerns is how to get rid of the bodies of their victims, leaving as little evidence of what happened as possible. That’s where bodies of water can come in very handy. It can take quite a while for a body to wash up on shore, and sometimes the body ends up someplace quite far away from where it was dumped (fans of Agatha Christie’s Dead Man’s Folly, for instance, will know that that point is mentioned in that novel). What’s more, water washes away quite a lot of evidence, so it’s hard to connect a killer to the crime.

Perhaps that’s why there is so much crime fiction in which the body of at least one victim has washed up on a beach. There are many, many such novels; I’ll just mention a few. I know you’ll think of lots more.

Minette Walters’ The Breaker begins when brothers Paul and Daniel Spender decide to explore the area around Chapman’s Pool near the Dorset Coast. They’re on holiday there with their parents, and are eager for a morning excursion of their own. They discover the body of an unknown woman on the beach and give the alarm. The police, in the form of PC Nick Ingram, begin their investigation. It’s not very long before the victim is identified as Kate Sumner, whose toddler daughter Hannah has been found wandering around the nearby town of Poole. In this case, there are only three really viable suspects. One is the victim’s husband William. Another is a local teacher, Tony Bridges. There’s also Bridges’ roommate Stephen Harding. All three had reasons for wanting Kate dead and, because the body had been in the water, there’s very little evidence as to which one is responsible.

In Domingo Villar’s Death on a Galician Shore, Vigo police detective Leo Caldas and his assistant Rafael Estevez investigate the death of a fisherman, Justo Castelo. The body was discovered washed up on shore, and it’s assumed that Castelo committed suicide by drowning. But there are little pieces of evidence that suggest that he was murdered. Because the body was in the water and found washed up, though, there’s not very much that specifically suggests a particular suspect. So Caldas and Estevez look into the victim’s background to find out who might have wanted him dead. Little by little, they trace Castelo’s death to a tragic event from the past.

Jørn Lier Horst’s Chief Inspector Willing Wisting investigates a bizarre case of washed-up bodies in Dregs. The story begins with a left foot in a training shoe that washes up on the beach near the Norwegian town of Stavern. The police start investigating immediately, but they haven’t gotten very far when another foot is discovered. And then there’s another. Still, no bodies have washed up. This eerie case is of course picked up by the press and there’s fear that some mad serial killer might be on the loose. So Wisting and his team have to work quickly to find out who the victims were and how they are connected. In the end, they discover that this isn’t the work of a serial killer at all. Instead, the deaths are all connected to the area’s past.

Mark Douglas-Home’s The Sea Detective introduces readers to Edinburgh oceanographer and Ph.D. candidate Caladh ‘Cal’ McGill. He’s an expert in wave patterns, and is using his knowledge to try to find out what happened to his grandfather, who was reported lost at sea years earlier. He uses his contacts in the field to follow up on any promising leads, and has managed to identify likely spots where his grandfather might have either landed or been washed up. But there are missing pieces to this puzzle, so in one plot thread, McGill goes to Eilean Isagaich Mor, Great Fishing Island, where his grandparents lived, to try to get some answers. There he finds a much bigger mystery than a case of ‘man overboard.’ At the same time, something else has made him curious. The body of a young woman was discovered off the Argyll coast, and a friend of the victim’s wants McGill’s help in finding out what happened to the woman and who killed her. His knowledge of the way the sea moves proves very helpful in both cases.

There’s also Angela Savage’s The Dying Beach. Bangkok-based PI Jayne Keeney and her partner Rajiv Patel decide to take a getaway holiday at Krabi, on the Thai coast. During their visit, they are especially impressed with their tour guide Pla. So when they find out that she’s been found dead – washed up in a cove – they’re very upset about it. They agree to extend their stay a bit to see if they can find out what happened. The trouble is, though, that there’s not much evidence. The police report suggests that the victim committed suicide. But there are just enough inconsistencies that Keeney isn’t sure that’s what happened. It wouldn’t have been likely to be an accident either, since Pla was an expert swimmer. So Keeney and Patel look into the matter more deeply. In this case, one of the real difficulties is that the water has washed away any clear-cut evidence about who the killer is. It’s not even crystal-clear that this was murder. So the two sleuths have their work cut out for them, as the saying goes.

So does London investigator Catherine Berlin, whom we meet in Annie Hauxwell’s In Her Blood. She’s been working on a case involving illegal moneylending rackets run by Archie Doyle, and has gotten some useful leads from an informant who calls herself ‘Juliet Bravo.’ When ‘Juliet’s’ body is pulled out of Limehouse Basin, Berlin feels responsible for the woman’s murder. So she decides to find out who killed her. She’s up against several obstacles though. For one thing, the victim never gave her real identity. So finding out who she was will be difficult. And, since the body was in the Basin, there’s little evidence as to what really happened to her. For another, Berlin is suspended for unprofessional conduct relating the case, so she doesn’t have easy access to the reports and other details she needs. Also, she is a registered heroin addict whose legal supplier has just been killed. In a very short time, she’ll be going through withdrawal and be unable to function. So she has to work quickly to find ‘Juliet’s’ killer.

As you can see (but you already know this anyway, I’m sure), it makes sense that there are so many crime novels where the murder victim is somehow dumped into water and left to wash up. I’ve only touched on a few novels that feature this plot point (I know, I know, fans of Sjöwall and Wahlöö’s Roseanna). Which ones have stayed with you?

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Otis Redding and Steve Cropper’s (Sittin’ on) the Dock of the Bay.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Angela Savage, Annie Hauxwell, Domingo Villar, Jørn Lier Horst, Maj Sjöwall, Mark Douglas-Home, Minette Walters, Per Wahlöö

I Betcha You Would Have Done the Same*

What Would I DoPart of the appeal of some crime novels is that they invite the reader to do some deeper thinking. For instance, I’d guess that we all want to think we’d do the right thing in a given situation. But what, exactly, is the right thing? It’s not always clear. Books that address those more difficult questions invite the reader to ask, ‘What would I have done in the same situation?’

There are certainly plenty of crime novels that raise that question. For instance, in Agatha Christie’s Murder on the Orient Express, wealthy American businessman Samuel Ratchett is stabbed during a trip across Europe on the famous Orient Express train. Hercule Poirot is on the same train, and he works with M. Bouc, a director of the train company, and with fellow passenger Dr. Constantine, to find out who the killer is. The solution leaves Poirot, Bouc, and Constantine with a decision, and it’s interesting to ask what we might have done in the same situation.

In Raymond Chandler’s The Big Sleep, General Guy Sternwood has received an extortion letter from book dealer Arthur Geiger. The letter makes reference to Sternwood’s daughter Carmen, and of course, Sternwood wants Geiger to leave the family alone. So he hires PI Philip Marlowe to find Geiger and stop him. By the time Marlowe tracks the man down, though, it’s too late: Geiger’s been murdered. Carmen Sternwood is in the same room, and was a witness to everything. But she’s either drugged or has had a mental breakdown, and isn’t able to be of help. Now Marlowe faces a decision: does he simply call the police, thereby putting Carmen at risk? Or does he help her escape, thereby possibly protecting someone involved in the murder? His decision to help Carmen gets him in far deeper than he’d planned…

Wendy James’ Out of the Silence: A Story of Love, Betrayal, Politics and Murder is a fictional re-telling of the real-life case of Maggie Heffernan. In 1900, she was imprisoned for the killing of her infant son. As James tells the story, Maggie is raised in rural Victoria, where she meets Jack Hardy, who’s in from Sydney for a visit with relatives. The two start seeing each other and become secretly engaged. Then, Jack leaves for New South Wales to find work. When Maggie discovers that she’s pregnant, she writes to Jack several times to let him know, but he doesn’t respond. Knowing that her family won’t accept her, Maggie heads to Melbourne and finds work in a Guest House. The baby is duly born and for a short time, he and Maggie live in a home for unwed mothers. Then she discovers that Jack is also in the Melbourne area. When she finally finds him, though, he rejects her utterly, even calling her ‘crazy.’ With nowhere else to go, Maggie tries to get lodgings for herself and her son, but is turned away from six different places. That’s when the tragedy occurs. The novel invites the reader to ask, ‘What would I have done?’ in several places.

John Grisham’s A Time to Kill does the same thing. Ten-year-old Tonya Hailey is brutally raped by Billy Ray Cobb and Pete Willard. There’s a sense of shock and outrage, and a great deal of sympathy for the Hailey family in the small Mississippi town where they live. Tonya’s father Carl Lee Hailey is determined that Cobb and Willard won’t get away with their crime. From his perspective, it’s not a given that they’ll be convicted, since they are White and he and his family are Black. So he lies in wait for them and shoots them as they go into the courtroom. Attorney Jake Brigance defends Hailey, and he’s up against considerable odds. Woven throughout this novel is the question of what any of us might do under the same circumstances.

Angela Savage’s short story The Teardrop Tattoos features a woman who’s recently been released from prison. Her only real companion is her Pit Bull Sully. At first, things aren’t too bad as she gets used to living in ‘the real world’ again. Then, a mother who uses the nearby day care facility lodges a complaint with the local council because Sully is a restricted breed. Forced to give Sully up, his owner plots her own kind of response. As the story goes on, we learn why she was in prison in the first place. It’s certainly not a straightforward case, and it leaves the reader wondering, ‘What might I have done?’

That’s also true in Keigo Higashino’s The Devotion of Suspect X. When Shinji Togashi is murdered, his ex-wife Yasuko Hanaoka comes under suspicion. But Detective Shunpei Kasanagi can’t find clear evidence against her. He gets help from Dr. Manabu ‘Galileo’ Yukawa, who soon learns that he’s up against a formidable opponent. Mathematics teacher Tetsuya Ishigami lives in the same building as Hanaoka does; in fact, he’s fallen in love with her. He’ll do anything to protect her, and he’s smart and skilled. In this novel, there are several places where the question comes up of what any of us might do if we were in the same situation as Hanaoka and Ishigami.

One of the clearest examples of the ‘What might I do?’ sort of novel (at least for my money) is Dennis Lehane’s Gone, Baby, Gone. When four-year-old Amanda McCready goes missing, the police launch a massive effort to find her. They aren’t successful though; and the more time that goes by, the less chance there is that Amanda will be found alive. So her uncle and aunt, Lionel and Beatrice McCready, hire PIs Patrick Kenzie and Angela Gennaro to find the girl. At first the two are reluctant to take the case. For one thing, they’re still recovering from their last case. For another, they don’t see what they can do that dozens of Boston-area police can’t do. But they are finally persuaded to at least ask some questions. They begin their search for Amanda and soon find that there are several possibilities. In the end, Kenzie and Gennario find out the truth about the child. But this isn’t a simple instance of, ‘PIs find out what happened to little girl.’ It raises a very challenging set of questions.

And that’s the thing about novels that invite the reader to ask, ‘What would I do?’ The best ones tell a well-written, cohesive story. But they also raise issues that make us wonder how we might act in a similar situation. Which ones have stayed with you?

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from John Kander and Fred Ebbs’ Cell Block Tango.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Angela Savage, Dennis Lehane, John Grisham, Keigo Higashino, Raymond Chandler, Wendy James

Make of Our Hearts One Heart*

Intercultural RelationshipsAll couples have to make adjustments; it’s what happens when two different people share their lives. That’s especially true of intercultural couples. They face the same issues as other couples, and they have to bridge sometimes vast cultural gaps. Although it’s not always easy, many such couples do build successful relationships. Other intercultural relationships don’t work out as well.

In crime fiction, an intercultural relationship can add a fascinating layer of depth to a character, even if the novel’s central focus isn’t the sleuth’s home life. It also allows the author to explore different cultures and cultural interaction in a very personal way.

Agatha Christie touches on this plot point in Dumb Witness (AKA Poirot Loses a Client). Wealthy Emily Arundell suspects that one of her family members is trying to kill her. She’s even more convinced of this when she has what seems to be an accidental fall down a flight of stairs late one night. It’s no accident though, so she writes to Hercule Poirot to ask for his help. By the time Poirot receives the letter and travels to Market Basing, where Miss Arundell lives, it’s too late. She’s died of what the doctor termed ‘liver failure.’ But Poirot suspects otherwise and continues to investigate. Just about everyone in the Arundell family circle had something to gain by the victim’s death. One of the interested parties is Miss Arundell’s niece Bella, who is married to Dr. Jacob Tanios. It’s an intercultural relationship, as Tanios is Greek. And it’s interesting to see how wide that gap is perceived to be in this novel. There are actually several comments about the wisdom (or lack theoreof) of marrying someone from a different culture.

Gail Bowen’s Joanne Kilbourn also has an experience with an intercultural relationship. In A Colder Kind of Death, she meets Inspector Alex Kequahtooway of the Regina Police. He’s investigating the murder of Kevin Tarpley, who was killed during an exercise break in the prison yard where he’s serving time for murder. Kilbourn has a strong motive for hating Tarpley, since the murder he committed was of her husband Ian. So at first, she and the Inspector are not exactly friendly. But before long he comes to believe that she’s innocent. Later, the two become romantically involved, and that presents challenges for both. He is a member of the Standing Buffalo Dakota First Nation; she is Anglo. To the two of them, their differences don’t matter as much as their relationship does. But not everyone feels that way, and both have to deal with the ‘baggage’ of being involved with someone from a very different culture.

So do Tony Hillerman’s Jim Chee and Mary Landon. Chee is a member of the Navajo Nation, and an officer in the Navajo Tribal Police. He is also studying at the time to become a yata’ali, a Navajo singer/healer. In People of Darkness, he meets Mary Landon, who teaches at Crown Point Elementary School. The two begin to date and then fall in love. At first it doesn’t matter to either that he is Navajo and she is White. As time goes by, though, they face a real obstacle. Chee loves Landon, but couldn’t really be happy living in the dominant-culture world. Landon loves Chee, too; but she doesn’t want to spend the rest of her life on the Reservation. As time goes by, she finds herself more and more drawn back to her own community. At the same time, though, as she writes to him in The Ghostway,

 

‘I won’t force my Jim Chee to be a white man.’

 

In the end, those differences separate them permanently, but not without a deep sense of loss on both sides.

Does this mean that all intercultural relationships are doomed? Not in crime fiction, at any rate. Just ask Nicolas Freeling’s Amsterdam Inspector Piet Van der Valk and his wife Arlette. Van der Valk is thoroughly Dutch, with that culture’s background, values and so on. His wife Arlette is French, and her cultural identity reflects that background.  There are certainly some cultural differences between them, and adjustments to be made on both sides. But as Van der Valk puts it in Double Barrel, being married to Arlette helps him to be

 

‘…not quite so Dutch….’

 

in his thinking. It helps a lot too that Arlette is an excellent cook.

More recently, there’s Timothy Hallinan’s Philip ‘Poke’ Raffterty series. Those novels take place mostly in Bangkok, where Rafferty lives and works. He’s an ex-pat American travel writer who’s also good at finding people who don’t want to be found. Rafferty’s wife Rose is thoroughly Thai, a former bar girl who now owns her own apartment cleaning company. Together, they’re raising Miaow, a former street child they’ve adopted. Rafferty and his wife come from very different backgrounds, and they see the world differently. Sometimes this gets in the way of their communication. But each respects and is devoted to the other, and both want the best for Miaow. So they do everything they can to understand each other and resolve the differences they sometimes have.

So do Angela Savage’s Bangkok-based PI Jayne Keeney and her partner Rajiv Patel. Keeney is Australian, although she’s quite content to live in Bangkok. In The Half-Child, she meets Patel, who at the time helps to run his uncle’s bookshop. Patel is from India, at first only staying in Bangkok temporarily. But things change when he meets Keeney and the two strike up a friendship. They become business partners and, later, lovers as well. There are certainly cultural differences between them, even in terms of things like non-verbal communication. But as time goes on, it becomes clear to each that they respect each other and depend on each other. They are better together than they are alone.

There are of course a lot of other intercultural couples in crime fiction. Freeling, for instance, wrote another series featuring Henri Castang, who is originally French, but lives and works in Brussels. His wife Vera is Czech. And this is by no means the only example. Which ones have stayed with you?

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim’s One Hand, One Heart.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Angela Savage, Gail Bowen, Nicolas Freeling, Timothy Hallinan, Tony Hillerman

It’s Late in the Evening*

LateNightPlenty of real and fictional crime happens in broad daylight. But most people associate crime with night. We’re more vulnerable at night; and, since a lot of people are at home then, public areas are less populated. So there’s no safety in numbers, so to speak. And those places that are late-night magnets (clubs, bars and pubs, etc.) have their own dangers.

It’s not surprising when you think about it that a lot of fictional crime takes place at night. There are far too many examples of this for me to include in this one post. I’m sure you’ll be able to add more than I could think of, anyway.

In Agatha Christie’s Death on the Nile, for instance, Hercule Poirot is taking a cruise of the Nile. Also on the cruise are Simon Doyle and his bride Linnet Ridgeway Doyle. On the second night of the cruise, Linnet is shot. The first theory is that her former best friend Jacqueline ‘Jackie’ de Bellefort is the killer. She certainly had motive, as she and Simon were engaged before he met Linnet. But it’s soon proven that Jackie couldn’t have committed the murder, so Poirot has to consider all of the other passengers. One important part of this investigation is finding out exactly what everyone was doing on the night of the murder. Without giving away spoilers, I can say that the ship was quite active, even late at night. I know, I know, fans of Murder on the Orient Express.

In John Bude’s The Cornish Coast Murder, Reverend Dodd, vicar of St. Michael’s-on-the-Cliff, is having dinner with his friend Dr. Pendrill. Their pleasant evening is interrupted when Pendrill is summoned to Greylings, the home of the Tregarthan family. Family patriarch Julius Tregarthan has been shot in his sitting room. Inspector Bigswell and his team are called in and begin to investigate. Interestingly, they find that three shots were fired through the open sitting-room window. Each shot came from a slightly different angle. What’s more, some money is missing from Tregarthan’s wallet. One of the tasks the police face is finding out exactly what all of those involved in the case were doing at the time of the murder. Matters aren’t made any easier by the fact that most of the people concerned were coming or going from somewhere. Although the investigation itself doesn’t occur only at night, a lot of the activity the police (and the vicar) look into does.

Karin Fossum’s Bad Intentions concerns three young men: Axel Frimann, Philip Reilly and Jon Moreno. Jon has recently been released from a mental hospital after a bout with severe anxiety problems, and it’s thought that some relaxation and a change of scenery will do him good. He and the other two take a cabin for a weekend at Dead Water Lake, and all starts out well enough. Late one night, the three young men go out on the lake in a boat. Only two come back. Oslo Inspector Konrad Sejer and his assistant Jakob Skarre investigate, and try to get as much information as they can from the two survivors. In the meantime, the body of a teenager is found in Glitter Lake. So Sejer and Skarre take on that case as well. As it turns out, the tragedies are connected and in both instances, finding out the truth means tracing a series of events that happened late at night. I know, I know, fans of Calling Out For You (AKA The Indian Bride).

Angela Savage’s Behind the Night Bazaar introduces readers to Bangkok-based PI Jayne Keeney. After a particularly difficult case, she decides to take a break and visit her friend Didier ‘Didi’ de Montpasse in Chiang Mai. Late one night, Didi’s partner Nou is murdered outside a club. Not long after that, Didi himself is shot. The official police account is that Didi murdered Nou; when the police came to arrest him, Didi turned dangerous, leaving the officers no choice but to shoot him. Keeney doesn’t believe any of this, and determines to clear her friend’s name. The trail leads to the Thai sex trade and to child trafficking. And a lot of both the criminal activity and Keeney’s investigation take place late at night. That makes sense, too, since that’s when many Thai bars and clubs do most of their business.

Malcolm Mackay’s The Necessary Death of Lewis Winter features one very memorable night. Callum MacLean is a Glasgow-based freelance professional killer. He’s got a good reputation, so he’s an obvious choice when Peter Jamieson needs to ‘solve a problem.’ Jamieson is a ‘rising star’ in the criminal underworld. He’s noticed that small-time dealer and criminal Lewis Winter has been trying to make his own name. If he succeeds, this will cause real problems for Jamieson and his right-hand man John Young. So they hire MacLean to deal with Winter. One night, Winter and his girlfriend Zara Cope go to a club called Heavenly. Winter has far too much to drink, which doesn’t particularly bother Cope, since she’s having quite a good time with the evening’s ‘conquest’ Stewart Macintosh. She and Macintosh decide to take Winter home and spend the rest of the night together, since Winter will be oblivious anyway. They go ahead with their plan, and that’s when Maclean and his partner put their own plan into action.

And then there’s Elizabeth Spann Craig’s Myrtle Clover. She’s a retired teacher who has regular bouts with insomnia. So she often goes for late-night walks, and seems to do her best thinking when everyone else is sleeping. In Pretty is as Pretty Dies, she investigates the murder of malicious real estate developer Parke Stockard, and it’s not an easy case. So one night, she decides to go down to the lake behind her house and sit for a while to think things out. She’s doing exactly that when she’s shoved from behind and almost drowns in the lake. Fortunately, the man next door Miles Bradford sees her distress before it’s too late and rescues her. For both of them, that’s more than enough for one night’s work.

There’s just something about those late-night hours that lends itself to crime. I know I’ve only touched on a few examples. Your turn.

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Eric Clapton’s Wonderful Tonight.

EricClapton

Happy Birthday, Mr. Clapton!!

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Angela Savage, Elizabeth Spann Craig, John Bude, Karin Fossum, Malcolm Mackay

And They Sit at the Bar and Put Bread in My Jar*

Bar and Pub ScenesBars and pubs come in all shapes and sizes. There are very posh bars in resort hotels; and seedy places where only the locals go, and then only when they don’t have enough money to go anywhere else. There are very dangerous drinking places and places that are quite safe. And of course there’s an endless variety of bar/pub themes, too.

When it comes to crime fiction, bars and pubs make for near-ideal backdrops. One reason is that they are so varied. Wherever the author sets a novel, in whatever context, there’s probably some kind of licensed establishment. And all sorts of scenes can take place at a drinking place. Business deals, romantic trysts, meetings between old friends…well, you get the idea. There’s nothing like a bar or pub for interactions among characters. That’s probably why there are so many scenes in crime fiction that take place in bars and pubs. I couldn’t possibly name them all, so I’ll content myself with just a few examples.

In Agatha Christie’s The Mystery of the Blue Train, wealthy heiress Ruth Van Aldin Kettering is murdered during a trip on the famous Blue Train. Hercule Poirot is on the same train, and gets involved in the investigation. One of the more likely suspects is the man the victim was going to meet, Armand de la Roche, who calls himself a Count. Another suspect is the victim’s estranged husband, Derek Kettering. At one point, the Comte de la Roche hears of evidence against Kettering and thinks he can make a profit by charging for his silence. He waits in the salon/lounge of the hotel where Kettering is staying. When he tries blackmail, Kettering lets him know in no uncertain terms what he thinks of him. It’s a taut scene that also shows some interesting character traits of both men.

Perth Superintendent Frank Swann uses pubs for quite a different purpose in David Whish-Wilson’s Line of Sight. He’s investigating the murder of a friend of his, Ruby Devine, who owned a brothel. He faces several challenges in this investigation, not the least of which is a group of corrupt police officers, called ‘the purple circle.’ They’ve marked Swann because he called for a Royal Commission hearing into their activities. And now, he’s convinced that somehow, one or more of them is behind the murder. Few people will talk openly to Swann because most fear ‘the purple circle. But he finds ways to meet up with people who have information. In one scene for instance, he goes to the Grosvenor Hotel, which,

 

‘…looked like a shaky drunk under escort.’

 

Despite its less-than-inspiring exterior, it’s an upmarket place that professionals use to discuss business they don’t want to deal with in the office. That’s where Swann goes to look for a lawyer named Cooper, who handled Ruby Devine’s business. The meeting is tense, because in this case, they’re on opposite sides, so to speak. He is, in fact, a suspect in the murder. But as Cooper says, they were both Ruby’s friends. And he figures into the story in a few places.

There’s another case of a bar being used for a business deal in Timothy Hallinan’s A Nail Through the Heart. Philip ‘Poke’ Rafferty is an ex-pat American travel writer who now lives in Bangkok. He’s got a reputation for being good at finding people who don’t want to be found, and he speaks both Thai and English. So when Clarissa Ulrich visits Bangkok to find someone who can look for her missing uncle, Rafferty is a natural choice. She leaves word at the Expat Bar, one of Rafferty’s regular stops, and he gets the message that she wants to talk to him. When they meet at the Expat, she tells him that she hasn’t heard from her uncle in a few months and is worried about him. Rafferty agrees to look into the matter, and is soon drawn into a case that goes far deeper than a man who simply wanted to take off for a bit.

Angela Savage’s Bangkok-based PI Jayne Keeney also finds bars to be good places to follow up on leads and find people. In The Half Child, for instance, Jim Delbeck hires her to find out what happened to his daughter Maryanne. The police report stated that she committed suicide by jumping from the roof of the building where she lived. But Delbeck doesn’t believe it was suicide. Keeney looks into the case, which at one point leads her to a place called the B-52 Bar. Her skill at playing pool turns out to be very useful as she goes after the information she wants. And so, in another bar scene, are her skill at speaking Thai and her understanding of the Thai culture.

Of course, bars and pubs are also effective settings for romantic meetings. But not all of them work out well. In Karin Alvtegen’s Betrayal, for instance, Eva Wirenström-Berg is devastated when she learns that her husband Henrik has been unfaithful. One night she goes out just to get away for a bit, and ends up at a pub. That’s where she meets Jonas Hansson, a man who has his own serious issues. Their meeting ends up having disastrous consequences, and as the story goes on, things spiral out of control for both of them.

Carin Gerhardsen’s The Gingerbread House introduces us to Petra Westman, junior member of an investigating team that’s looking into a strange group of murders. One night, she and a colleague Jamal Hamad go out for a friendly drink. While they’re at the bar, she meets Peter Fryhk. A conversation leads to several drinks and to flirting. The next morning, she wakes up in a house she doesn’t know. Very soon she concludes that she’s been ‘date raped.’ She manages to get home, and one of the plot threads in this story is her search for the proof she needs to have her attacker brought to justice.

And of course, I don’t think I could do a post on bar and pub scenes in crime fiction without mentioning The Red Pony. That’s a bar/restaurant/poolroom owned by Craig Johnson’s Henry Standing Bear. It’s one of Durant, Wyoming’s few gathering places, and it’s a regular haunt of Johnson’s sleuth Sheriff Walt Longmire. It may not be upmarket, but it’s comfortable and ‘down home,’ and lots of scenes, both funny and tense, take place there.

There are of course lots of other bar and pub scenes in crime fiction (I know, I know, fans of Colin Dexter’s Inspector Morse and of Ian Rankin’s John Rebus). And it’s not at all surprising. They’re perfect for all kinds of meetings that can end in all kinds of ways. Which ones have stayed with you?

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Billy Joel’s Piano Man. Oh, come on, was there ever any doubt? ;-)

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Angela Savage, Carin Gerhardsen, Colin Dexter, Craig Johnson, David Whish-Wilson, Ian Rankin, Karin Alvtegen, Timothy Hallinan