Category Archives: Anthony Bidulka

You’re Dying to Kill Me*

Imagine how you might feel if you really, honestly believed someone was trying to kill you. It would likely be even worse if you didn’t exactly who it was, because you wouldn’t know the source of the threat. All of the tension, anxiety, and worse that comes from feeling threatened like that plays havoc with someone’s life.

In a crime novel, though, it adds tension and suspense. And it’s an effective tool for involving a sleuth in a case. So, it’s little wonder that we see it as often as we do in the genre. The ‘someone’s trying to kill me’ plot line has arguably become a trope, and that tension and conflict are part of the reason.

Agatha Christie uses that plot point in several of her stories. For instance, in Peril at End House, Hercule Poirot and Captain Hastings are staying at the Majestic Hotel in St. Loo. Poirot has determined to take his ease and retire from active investigating. Everything changes when he happens to twist his ankle, and Magdala ‘Nick’ Buckley comes to his aid. In the course of their interaction, she tells him that she’s had a few escapes from death in the last few days. On the surface, it can all be passed off as a series of weird events and nothing more. But then, Poirot discovers a hole in the hat she leaves behind. And the bullet that seems to have made that hole. Now, he suspects that someone’s trying to kill her. He warns her and starts to get to know the other people in her life, to find out who might be targeting her. Then, there actually is a murder. Nick’s cousin has come to visit and borrows a distinctive shawl one evening. While she’s wearing it, she’s shot. Poirot slowly puts the pieces together and discovers who threatened Nick’s life and killed her cousin.

In Catriona McPherson’s Dandy Gilver and the Proper Treatment of Bloodstains, we are introduced to private detective Dandelion ‘Dandy’ Gilver. One day, she gets a letter from Walburga ‘Lollie’ Balfour, that begins this way:
 

‘Dear Mrs. Gilver,
…My husband is going to kill me, and I would rather he didn’t.’

 

The two arrange that Dandy will visit her new client in the guise of a maid seeking a job. That will give her the opportunity to get to know the various members of the household, and in particular, Philip ‘Pip’ Balfour. Dandy duly goes to the house, gets a job using an alias, and starts her duties. Early the next morning, Pip Balfour is found dead, and Superintendent Hardy is called in. Lollie claims that she didn’t commit the murder, but she is a prime suspect. Then, there’s another murder. Now it’s clear that something sinister is going on in the house. Dandy and her business partner, Alec Osborne, work to find out who the killer is.

Anthony Bidulka’s Tapas on the Ramblas begins as Saskatoon PI Russell Quant gets a visitor. Wealthy business tycoon Charity Wiser has come to suspect that someone in her family is trying to kill her. So, she sends her granddaughter, Flora, to Quant to ask him to investigate. And Charity Wiser has an idea for helping him get to know the suspects. She is planning a family cruise on her private boat and invites Quant to join the group. This, she believes, will give him the opportunity to ‘vet’ the members of her family. Quant’s pleased at the opportunity for an all-expenses cruise and agrees. He soon finds that almost everyone in the family has a good reason to want Charity Wiser dead. Not only does she have a fortune to leave, but she is manipulative, and seems to delight in wielding her power and in putting her family in situations that she knows will make them uncomfortable. Against this background, Quant will have to find out who the real enemy is before that person finishes the job.

Elmore Leonard’s Maximum Bob is the story of South Florida judge Robert Isom ‘Maximum Bob’ Gibbs. He’s earned his nickname because of his reputation for handing out the stiffest sentences that the law allows. He wields a lot of power in the county, and he’s made his share of enemies. One day, an alligator is found on his property. It doesn’t hurt anyone, although it causes damage. Still, an alligator is a dangerous animal, and the police are called in, in the form of local police officer Gary Hammond. He begins to wonder whether the alligator might have been put there deliberately, and if so, by whom. But he doesn’t have much to go on. Then, one night, shots are fired into the judge’s home. Now it’s clear that someone is trying to kill the judge, and there are plenty of suspects. After all, he’s infuriated plenty of convicts and parolees. And there’s his wife, who might have any number of motives. There’s also the fact that he’s a womanizer, with all that that entails. In the end, and after more than one death, Hammond and parole officer Kathy Diaz Baker find out who has been targeting the judge.

One of the more interesting uses of this plot point comes in Kazuhiro Kiuchi’s Shield of Straw. In that novel, wealthy Tokyo magnate Takaoki Ninagawa is devastated when his granddaughter, Chika, goes missing. Matters get even worse when her body is found, and it’s discovered that she was raped before she was killed. Ninagawa decides to do something about it. He finds out that the killer is a man named Kunihide Kiyomaru and offers a bounty of one billion yen to anyone who kills Kiyomaru and can prove it. When Kiyomaru learns of the price on his head, he goes into hiding in Fukuoka, about 1100 km/685 mi from Tokyo. If Kiyomaru is to be prosecuted for the rape and murder, he’ll need to be transported back to Tokyo, and SP (Special Police) officer Kazuki Mekari of the Tokyo Municipal Police Department (MPD) is given the task of making that happen. Mekari and his team travel to Fukuoka and prepare for the journey to Tokyo with their prisoner. But it won’t be easy. Many thousands of people know about the bounty and would like nothing more than to kill Kiyomaru. And there’s nothing to say that one of the members of the police escort couldn’t be tempted, too. With so many people trying to kill this particular person, getting him back alive will be a daunting task.

The thought that someone is trying to kill you is an eerie one. In real life, it’s truly awful. In crime fiction, it can add suspense, tension and an interesting plot like to a story. These are just a few examples. Your turn.

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from the Giraffes’ Louis Guthrie Wants to Kill Me.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Anthony Bidulka, Catriona McPherson, Elmore Leonard, Kazuhiro Kiuchi

Driving Me to the Airport and to the Friendly Skies*

Modern security has changed a lot about airport experiences. But, if you think about it, they’re still places where hundreds of thousands of people pass through. If you bring all of these disparate people together, any number of things can happen. And they do. I’m sure you have your own stories that could start this way: ‘I was at the airport, when…’ Airports are like that.

It’s little wonder, then, that airports figure so often into crime fiction. For one thing, plenty of people use them; an airport experience is a real-life sort of thing. For another, there are many possibilities for interactions, conflict, suspense, and more.

Agatha Christie’s Passenger to Frankfort, for instance, begins as Stafford Nye, a low-level British diplomat, is waiting in an airport. A young woman approaches him and tells him that her life is in danger, and that she needs to flee the country. At first, Nye refuses to help her, but she persists. Finally, he relents and allows her to use his passport and diplomatic credentials (I know – that would never happen in today’s airline travel). Before long, that chance encounter (or was it really by chance?) draws Nye into a web of international intrigue and murder. Behind it all is a shadowy group bent on world domination. This one isn’t, perhaps, one of Christie’s best. But the airport scene shows that you never can tell what will happen in an airport.

Scott Young’s Murder in Cold Climate features Matthew ‘Matteesie’ Kitologitak of the RCMP. As the novel opens, he’s at the airport in Inuvik, on the first leg of a trip to his home in Ottawa. His plan then is to travel to an international conference. Instead, he gets a call from his boss, who wants him to look into the disappearance of a Cessna that was carrying three men. Matteesie agrees to see what he can find out, and gets on board his flight, which is heading to Edmonton. On the same flight is a Native Activist named Morton Cavendish. When the plane stops at the Fort Norman airport, a gunman forces his way onto the plane and shoots Cavendish. Matteesie was a witness to the murder, and in any case, he knew Cavendish. So, he wants to find out who the killer is. And it turns out that this murder may very well be related to the missing Cessna case that Matteesie’s already investigating.

In Karin Fossum’s Calling Out For You (AKA The Indian Bride), we are introduced to Gundar Jormann. He’s lived a very quiet life in the Norwegian village of Elvestad. There, he has the reputation of being a steady worker and a good man, if not exactly brilliant or scintillating. When Jormann decides he wants to get married, people are surprised, although, as he sees it, he’s not a proverbial bad catch. But when he decides to go to Mumbai to find his bride, everyone’s shocked. He goes ahead with his plans, though, and makes the trip. There, he meets Poona Bai, and it’s not long before he is smitten with her. After a short time, he proposes to her, and she accepts. But she needs some time to manage the details of leaving India and getting to Norway. So, the plan is for Jormann to go back to Elvestad and meet his bride at the airport when she arrives. His plans have to change, though, when his sister, Marie, is involved in a car accident. Since he can’t leave Marie’s side, he asks a friend to meet Poona at the airport. His friend duly travels to the airport and waits for Poona. But the two miss each other. If you think about it, that’s not an impossible scenario, since they don’t know each other, and since airports can be busy, crowded place. The next morning, Poona’s body is found in a field not far from Jormann’s home. Oslo police inspector Konrad Sejer and his assistant, Jacob Skarre, investigate the murder. They find that several people in Elvestad aren’t telling everything they know.

Anthony Bidulka’s Aloha Candy Hearts begins as Saskatoon PI Russell Quant visits Hawai’i. He’s there to spend time with his partner, Alex Canyon, who’s based in Melbourne. When the visit’s over, Quant goes to the airport to return to Saskatoon. While he’s there, he meets an enigmatic stranger named Walter Angel, who turns out to be an archivist. Angel slips a cryptic message, much like a treasure map, into Quant’s hand luggage; shortly afterwards, he is murdered. Quant uses the message he was giving to try to find out who would have wanted to kill the victim. It turns out that this death is related to some secrets that are based back home in Saskatoon.

In T.J. Cooke’s Kiss and Tell, London attorney Jill Shadow gets a call from a custody sergeant at Heathrow Airport. It seems that a young woman named Bella Kiss has been caught carrying drugs into the country. She insists on talking to Shadow. Although Shadow’s never met the woman before (even the name is unfamiliar), she goes along to the airport. When she meets Bella, she hears a little of the story. Bella admits to bringing drugs into the country, but she won’t say who paid or coerced her. It’s obvious that she fears for her life, and she wants Shadow to help her. At the same time, she’s uncooperative. So, Shadow has to find out the answers for herself. And they lead to some dangerous high places.

See what I mean? Airports are busy places where a lot happens at once, and where thousands of people are at the same place at the same time. Anything can happen there, so it’s little wonder they’re present in crime fiction.

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Crosby, Stills, & Nash’s Just a Song Before I Go.  

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Anthony Bidulka, Karin Fossum, Scott Young, T.J. Cooke

With All the Force of a Great Typhoon*

Age often brings with it a certain amount of self-confidence and strength of character. That’s arguably why so many fictional characters we think of as indomitable are also no longer young. They have whatever wisdom experience brings, and they’re no longer overly concerned with what people think of them or their opinions.

Those characters can add a lot to a crime novel. Sometimes they serve as mentors; sometimes they simply add to a context. Either way, they can be very interesting in and of themselves. In some cases, they even steal the limelight, so to speak, from the sleuth or other protagonist. Space won’t permit me to mention all of them; here are just a few. Oh, and you’ll notice I’m specifically not mentioning indomitable sleuths who are no longer young. Too easy.

Agatha Christie included several indomitable characters in her stories. One, for instance, is Princess Natalia Dragomiroff, whom we meet in Murder on the Orient Express. In that novel, Hercule Poirot is en route across Europe on the famous Orient Express train. On the second night of the journey, fellow passenger Samuel Ratchett is stabbed. Poirot is asked to investigate, and he starts looking into the case. The only possible suspects are the other passengers in the same car, and one of those people is Princess Dragomiroff. Here is how one character describes her:
 

‘‘She is a personality…Ugly as sin, but she makes herself felt.’’
 

And she does. She cooperates with the investigation, but it’s clear throughout that she isn’t in the least bit – at all – intimidated by Poirot or by the process.

Tarquin Hall’s sleuth is Delhi PI Vishwas ‘Vish’ Puri.  He owns Most Private Investigators, Ltd., and supervises several employees. He’s not easily threatened or intimidated. But even Puri has learned that it’s often best to defer to his indomitable mother, Mummy-ji. It’s not that she’s particularly autocratic (she’s not), or overbearing. But she has a strong force of will, and isn’t afraid to speak her mind. She’s smart, too. For instance, in one plot thread of The Case of the Man Who Died Laughing, Mummi-ji and her daughter-in-law (Puri’s wife), Rumpi, attend a kitty party. Every guest brings a little money which is pooled. Then one guest’s name is drawn, and that guest wins the money. This party is different, though, because a thief breaks in and steals the money. The quick-thinking Mummy-ji finds a way to scratch the thief, though, and insists that DNA samples be taken of her hand, and prints lifted from her purse, where the money was, so as to identify the robber. And she’s not at all intimidated by the lab attendant who tells her she’s been watching too much crime television.

Anthony Bidulka’s Russell Quant is a Saskatoon PI who’s lucky enough to have several people in his life who care about him. One of them is Anthony Gatt, owner of an extremely successful upmarket men’s clothing company. Gatt isn’t domineering or high-handed. But he has a way of making his presence felt. And he knows everyone who is anyone, especially among Saskatchewan’s gay community. In one scene in Flight of Aquavit, for instance, Quant stops in at one of Gatt’s stores, and Gatt happens to be there. At one point, Gatt says,
 

‘‘I can’t have you in here like that…or at least I can’t have you leaving like that.’’
 

Before Quant knows it, he’s got new clothes. Gatt makes his personality felt in other ways, too, including to mentor Quant.

There’s also Lucian Connally, who features in Craig Johnson’s Sheriff Walt Longmire series. Connally is the former sheriff of Absaroka County, Wyoming. He’s elderly now, but he is still very much a force to be reckoned with. He lives in an elder care home, but he’s by no means intimidated by the staff there. And he’s one of the few people who can get away with telling Longmire what to do, if I can put it that way. He’s got his own past and his own secrets, as we all do, and they come out in a few story arcs. In some ways, he serves as a mentor for Longmire, and he has a good memory. So, he also is a sort of living history of the county.

Emma Viskic’s Resurrection Bay introduces her sleuth, Victoria-based PI Caleb Zelic. In the novel, Zelic and his business partner, Frankie Reynolds, investigate the murder of Senior Constable Gary ‘Gaz’ Marsden. He and Marsden have a long friendship, and he was found with Marsden’s body. So Zelic is very much a ‘person of interest.’ He knows he didn’t commit the murder, and he wants to find out who did. So, he and Reynolds start asking questions. The trail leads to a very dangerous person known only as ‘Scott.’ And the closer he gets to Scott, the more dangerous things become for him. Zelic and his ex-wife, Kat, may be divorced, but they still communicate, and they still do care a lot about each other. This means that Kat, too, is in danger, and that plays its role in the novel. But Kat is not easily intimidated. Nor is her mother, Maria. Both are indomitable people, with powerful personalities. Maria in particular has a way of exerting her personality, although she’s not pushy or rude.

There are plenty of other characters, too, who have that quality of being indomitable. They can add to a story in many ways, and they can certainly be interesting characters. These are just a few examples. Your turn.

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Matthew Wilder and David Zippel’s I’ll Make a Man out of You.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Anthony Bidulka, Craig Johnson, Emma Viskic, Tarquin Hall

Where You Come From*

One of the interesting things about fictional PIs is the diversity in their backgrounds. The profession isn’t limited to people who have a particular academic degree or job experience. This means that the author has a lot of flexibility when it comes to a PI’s background. And that can make for intriguing layers of character development, to say nothing of plot points and other characters.

There are some fictional PIs who decide early in life that that will be their profession. Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes, for instance, chose the profession quite deliberately. And, in A Study in Scarlet, he describes himself to Dr. Watson as
 

‘…a consulting detective, if you can understand what that is.’’
 

He’s carefully prepared for his career, too. In fact, his focus is so much on being the finest detective that he doesn’t take a lot of interest in topics unless they’ll be helpful to him professionally.

There are many fictional PIs who are former police officers. This means that they may very well have connections within the police community. And that can either be a source of valuable information, or an obstacle, depending on how the author wants to use that relationship.

For instance, Anthony Bidulka’s Russell Quant is a former member of the Saskatoon Police Service (SPS). He decided that life on the police force wasn’t for him, and hung out his own shingle. But he still has contacts on the force. He doesn’t spend a lot of social time with his former colleagues, and he’s much happier as a PI. But he’s established a useful and mutually beneficial relationship with the SPS.

Fans of Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot will know that he used to be a member of the Belgian police. That career ended, and then life changed abruptly with the advent of World War I. Poirot went to England as a refugee and started a career in private detection there. Interestingly enough, Christie doesn’t delve very much into Poirot’s early history. There are a few stories (right, fans of The Chocolate Box) that shed some light on Poirot’s life as a police detective. But he doesn’t maintain ties with his former colleagues.

Sometimes, fictional private investigators get into the business unexpectedly, or even accidentally. For instance, Dick Francis’ Sid Halley was at one time a well-known jockey. But he suffered a riding accident that severely injured his left hand and ended his riding career. At loose ends, so to speak, he got a job working for a large private detective agency, Hunt, Radnor and Associates. Private investigation wasn’t in Halley’s plan, and he’s bitter over the loss of his racing career. Still, he’s had to find some sort of job. His real career in private detection, though, begins in Odds Against, when his former father-in-law asks him to uncover a plot to take over the Seabury Racecourse for development. This case, which brings Halley back into contact with the racing world, also, as you might say, brings him back to life. He becomes a racetrack investigator; and, although he misses riding, and is still sometimes bitter, he manages to put himself back together.

Some PIs start by doing informal investigations, mostly to help friends. It’s only later that they make it an official business. Walter Mosley’s Ezekiel ‘Easy’ Rawlins is like that. As the series begins (in Devil in a Blue Dress), he’s been laid off from his job at an aircraft manufacturing plant. It’s shortly after the end of World War II, and several former aircraft, munitions, and other war-related factories are closing or downsizing. Rawlins has to find some way to earn a living. So, when his friend, a bar owner named Joppy, introduces him to a man named DeWitt Albright, Rawlins listens to what Albright has to say. Albright is looking for a woman named Daphne Monet, who seems to have gone missing. He wants Rawlins to find her, and is willing to pay well for it. Rawlins is in serious need of money, so he agrees. But, as he soon discovers, this isn’t a simple case of finding a woman who may be in hiding. It involves theft, blackmail, and murder. Rawlins solves the case, and he does get paid, but he works informally for the first few novels in this series. Mostly, he does things for friends and their acquaintances.

That’s also the case with Lawrence Block’s Matthew Scudder. He was a New York homicide detective (another former police officer!). But a tragic accidental shooting changed everything. As the series begins (with The Sins of the Fathers), he doesn’t really have a ‘regular’ job. But he does know how to find people and get answers. He works very informally. As he puts it:
 

‘‘Sometimes I do favors for people. They give me gifts.’’
 

He doesn’t get his official PI license until later in the series.

Some PIs have very unusual backgrounds. Leigh Redhead’s Simone Kirsch for instance, is a former stripper. She still does gigs now and again. It might seem unlikely that a stripper would make the change to a career as a PI. But for Kirsch, there’s a reason. When she got the point where it was time to quit, she tried to join the Victoria Police. That’s because she’s still grateful to the police for saving her life and her mother’s and brother’s when she was younger. But,
 

‘Either I didn’t have the moral credentials to be a girl in blue, or the Victoria Police had enough scandal without dropping a stripper into the mix.
 

She’s not accepted into police training, so she decides that the PI course is the next best thing. And she’s good at it, too. It helps that she stays in close contact with several people in ‘the business.’ They’re often good sources if information.

Fictional PIs (real ones, too) sometimes have some fascinating backgrounds, or at least unusual ones. That can add to a story, and make for solid character development and contexts.

 
 
 

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

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Anthony Bidulka, Arthur Conan Doyle, Dick Francis, Lawrence Block, Leigh Redhead, Walter Mosley

Here’s the Mystery of Fitting In*

Human interactions can be complicated, since people are complex. That may be part of why each group of people develops rules – some of them very subtle and unspoken – for being accepted. If you know and follow those rules, you have a much easier time in that particular group. If you don’t, it’s more difficult; you may even be made unwelcome.

Those rules permeate our lives, whether we’re aware of it or not. So, it shouldn’t be surprising that they’re also woven into crime fiction. For example, Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot is Belgian, with a lifetime of that culture’s subtle and not-so-subtle ‘rules’ for interaction. He’s smart and observant enough to know that things are different in his adopted home of England. So, he’s made the adjustment. In The Murder on the Links, for instance, he and Captain Hastings investigate the murder of Paul Renauld, who lived with his wife and son in Merlinville-sur-Mer, in France. At one point, Poirot makes a trip to Paris to follow up on a lead. Here’s how he takes his leave of Hastings:
 

‘‘You permit that I embrace you? Ah, no, I forget that it is not the English custom. Une poignee de main, alors.’’
 

Needless to say, a handshake is much more suited to Hastings’ style.

In Vicki Delany’s In the Shadow of the Glacier, Trafalgar, British Columbia (BC) Constable Moonlight ‘Molly’ Smith and her boss, Sergeant John Winters, investigate the murder of land developer Reginald ‘Reg’ Montgomery. There are plenty of suspects, too. He wanted to create the Grizzly Resort, an upmarket tourist attraction that some people say would have brought in a lot of welcome revenue. But, there are just as many people who didn’t want the resort, saying it would wreak havoc on the environment and make life harder for the local people. The victim had some secrets in his personal life as well. There were certainly plenty of people who didn’t like Montgomery, but he knew some of the ‘rules’ for fitting in in Trafalgar:
 

‘…he made a point of shopping at the local stores, rather than the Wal-Mart in Nelson, eating out regularly, usually in family-owned restaurants, and tipping well. Ellie, his wife, had her hair done at Maggie’s Salon on Front Street, bought her clothes from Joanie’s Ladies Wear, and contributed generously, in time as well as money, to the hospital and the seniors center.’
 

Montgomery wanted the locals to accept him and his wife, and learned how to help make that happen.

In many groups, new members get the least desirable assignments, and sometimes have to be good sports about having tricks played on them. Once they show they can ‘take a joke,’ and are willing to do lowly tasks, they’re accepted. Of course, such ‘rules’ can be taken much too far, and amount to hazing. But they’re a part of a lot of groups’ cultures. For instance, Y.A. Erskine’s The Brotherhood is the story of the murder of Sergeant John White of the Tasmania Police. One day, he’s called to the scene of a home invasion, and takes probationer Lucy Howard with him to investigate. He’s killed at the house, and everyone assumes that the murderer is seventeen-year-old Darren Rowley. Howard didn’t see the murder, though, as she was at a different part of the house when it happened. So, the police have to investigate. As they do, we get to know the people White worked with, and the bond they share. One of those people is Constable Cameron Walsh, who considered White a mentor, even though White played a ‘new guy’ prank on him. Walsh was accepted among his fellow coppers, including White, in part because he proved he ‘could take a joke.’

One of the most important things one learns in the LGBT community is that you don’t ever ‘out’ someone. People choose to come out or not of their own accord. And Anthony Bidulka’s Saskatoon PI Russell Quant knows and follows that rule. In Flight of Aquavit, Quant gets a new client, successful accountant Daniel Guest. Guest is a ‘closeted’ married gay man, who’s being blackmailed over some trysts he’s had with other men. He wants Quant to find the blackmailer and stop that person. Quant’s first reaction is that it would be a lot easier if Guest simply went public with the fact that he’s gay. But that’s not Quant’s decision to make, and Guest is unwilling to take that step. So, he takes the case and begins to look into the matter. It’s a challenging case, and leads to murder; but in the end, Quant finds out the truth.

Matsumoto Seichō’s Inspector Imanishi Investigates takes place in Japan, mostly in Tokyo. In that culture, at that time (the book was written in 1961), there are a number of expectations for the way one is supposed to interact. There are several ‘rules’ for verbal and other communication. Some indicate who has authority and who doesn’t; others are used to get along with others and to be accepted. Some of those expectations are still in place (we see some of them, for instance, in Natsuo Kirino’s Real Life, which was published in 2003). And it’s interesting to see how those rules and rituals allow for social harmony among a large group of people concentrated in a small place.

It’s much harder to be accepted among a group of people if you don’t know the social subtleties and rules. Just ask Harry Bingham’s Detective Constable (DC) Fiona Griffiths, whom we first meet in Talking to the Dead. In this novel, she’s the most junior member of her Cardiff-based police team. It’s vital for a group of police officers to be able to work together, and Griffiths knows that. But knowing and following those ‘rules’ is difficult for her, because she is dealing with a mental illness. It’s not so debilitating that she can’t work, but it does hamper her ability to interact productively with others, and to live on what she calls ‘Planet Normal.’ Things such as joking around, small talk, dating, and so on can be real challenges. She’s not the only one who faces this, either, is she, fans of Mark Haddon’s The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time?

Most of us learn the ‘rules’ and expectations for interaction very early on. And that’s a good thing, as they make it much easier to work with others and get through life. In fact, they’re so much a part of our lives that we probably don’t pay a lot of attention to them. Little wonder we see them so often in crime fiction.

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from The Pale Pacific’s How to Fit In.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Anthony Bidulka, Harry Bingham, Mark Haddon, Matsumoto Seichō, Natsuo Kirino, Vicki Delany, Y.A. Erskine