Category Archives: Arthur Conan Doyle

I Couldn’t Sleep at All Last Night*

insomniaMost of us have circadian rhythms that guide us to be awake during the daylight hours, and asleep at night. We might be ‘morning people’ or ‘night owls,’ but we tend to get our sleep sometime during the night.

Not always, though. There are people who have insomnia, which means they cannot easily fall asleep or stay asleep. Anyone can have an occasional sleepless night; a worrying situation, not feeling well, or even being in a strange place such as a hotel can interrupt sleep. But people with chronic insomnia have frequent difficulty sleeping.

There are any number of possible causes of chronic insomnia. Some people who have it get treatment for it; others learn to live with it. Either way, insomnia can make for an interesting trait in a crime-fictional character. It can add a layer of depth, and can allow the author some flexibility in terms of the action in a story.

Fans of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes will know that he often has an erratic sleeping schedule. When he’s working on a case, Holmes is able to stay awake, as Watson reports, for days at a time. At other times, he doesn’t do that at all. Holmes doesn’t seem to work very hard, either, to change his sleeping patterns to more conventional ones. He makes use of the nights when he’s wakeful.

In Agatha Christie’s Dumb Witness (AKA Poirot Loses a Client), we are introduced to Emily Arundell. She’s got a large fortune to leave, and several relatives who are desperate to get their hands on her money. Her usual response to them is that they’ll get their share when she dies. But some of them are finding it hard to wait that long. Miss Arundell has bouts of insomnia, and uses those late-night hours to check the household account books, write letters, and so on. She’s taken her inability to sleep in stride. One Easter weekend, her nieces, Theresa Arundell and Bella Tanios, visit. Also there are Theresa’s brother, Charles, and Bella’s husband, Jacob. While they’re visiting, Miss Arundell has one of her bouts of insomnia, and starts to go downstairs late one night. Someone’s laid a trap for her though. She trips over a piece of thread, and falls down the stairs. This unsettles her greatly, and she decides to find out who’s responsible. She writes a letter to Hercule Poirot, asking him to investigate the matter. But she doesn’t specify what it is that she wants him to do. Still, he’s intrigued, and he and Captain Hastings travel to the village of Market Basing. They’re too late, though; by the time they arrive, Miss Arundell has died. Poirot feels a duty to his client, and he and Hastings investigate. In the end, they find that Miss Arundell was right to be worried…

Elizabeth Spann Craig’s Myrtle Clover also has periods of insomnia. She’s a retired English teacher who lives in the small town of Bradley, North Carolina. Unwilling to be ‘put out to pasture,’ even though that’s what her police-chief son would prefer, Myrtle finds herself getting involved in murder investigations. When she has trouble sleeping, Myrtle sometimes takes late-night walks, or goes outside to sit for a while. But being outdoors isn’t always as soothing as you’d think. In more than one story, Myrtle’s habit of being awake very late at night puts her in real danger. Still, she’s taken her insomnia in stride, and works around it.

In Peter May’s Entry Island, we are introduced to Sergeant Enquêteur Sime Mackenzie of the Sûreté du Québec. He usually works in Montréal, but is sent to Entry Island, one of the Îles-de-la-Madeleine/Magdalen Islands, when James Cowell is murdered there.   Mackenzie is a native speaker of English, although he speaks fluent French. And, since most of the residents of Entry Island are also native speakers of English, it’s thought that he’ll be successful at getting information from them. Almost as soon as he arrives, Mackenzie feels a strong connection to the island, although he’s never been there. He also feels a connection to the victim’s widow, Kristy, although they never met. So, although a lot of the evidence points to Kristy as the killer, he decides to look into the case more deeply. Mackenzie has frequent periods of insomnia, and sometimes goes a few days in a row without sleeping. His insomnia doesn’t solve this case, but it’s interesting to see how it’s become a part of his life.

Insomnia plays an interesting role in Craig Johnson’s The Dark Horse. In that novel, Sheriff Walt Longmire of Absaroka County, Wyoming, goes undercover as an insurance agent. It seems that Wade Barstad locked his wife, Mary’s horses in their barn and burned the barn. In response, Mary shot her husband six times. She’s even confessed to the crime. But Longmire isn’t sure that’s what really happened. So, he poses as an insurance agent to talk to people and find out who else might have wanted to kill Barstad. And he finds out that there are plenty of other people who might have wanted to see him dead. It’s not spoiling the story to say that Mary, who’s now about to be tried for a crime Longmire doesn’t think she committed, has been treated for chronic insomnia. It adds an interesting layer to her character, and interesting possibilities to the plot.

Chronic, clinically-diagnosed insomnia can be tricky in a character. It needs to be done authentically. But when it is done well, insomnia can make for an interesting character trait. It can also make for an interesting plot point.

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from  Ritchie Adams and Malou Rene’s Tossin’ and Turnin’.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Arthur Conan Doyle, Elizabeth Spann Craig, Craig Johnson, Peter May

You’re Just a Two-Bit Grifter*

griftersAs this is posted, it’s 43 years since the first release of George Roy Hill’s The Sting. It’s become a classic film – the story of a couple of professional grifters and their plot to take down a mob boss. If you haven’t seen it, I recommend it highly.

If you look at crime fiction, there are plenty of other examples of criminals who are taken down, not by the police, but by one of their own, or one of their victims. It’s an interesting premise, and when it’s done well, it can be very effective. That’s especially true if, as is the case with The Sting, the protagonist is depicted sympathetically.

Of course, it’s easy to paint protagonists in a sympathetic light when they’re sleuths. That’s what happens in Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton. Lady Eva Brackwell is being blackmailed by Milverton, who makes his living that way. It seems that she had written letters – the type that used to be called ‘indiscreet’ – and Milverton got his hands on them. Now, he’s threatening to reveal them to Lady Eva’s fiancé, the Earl of Dovercourt, unless she pays a huge sum of money. She asks Sherlock Holmes for help, and he agrees to take the case. When Milverton refuses to return the letters, Holmes decides to break into his home (with Dr. Watson’s help) and take the letters. Things don’t turn out exactly the way he’d planned, though. It seems that another of Milverton’s ‘clients’ has her own way of dealing with the situation…

Bill Pronzini’s The Snatch is the first of his novels featuring his Nameless detective. In this story, Nameless gets a commission from wealthy Louis Martinetti. It seems that Martinetti’s son, Gary, has been kidnapped. The ransom is to be delivered to a certain place, and by one and only one person. Martinetti wants Nameless to be that person. At first, Nameless demurs, saying that the Martinetti would be better off going to the police. But he finally agrees. For one thing, Martinetti says that Gary will be killed if the police are involved. And a fee is a fee. The next day, Nameless picks up the ransom money and takes it to the appointed place. His role is supposed to be limited to handing over the cash. But everything changes when, as the saying goes, all hell breaks loose at the drop-off point. Someone else apparently had other plans. Now, Nameless has decide what he’s going to do. In the end, we find out what happened to Gary, and what’s behind it all. I can say without spoiling the story that it’s an interesting case of manipulating people who don’t really know they’re being manipulated.

Fans of Donald Westlake’s John Dortmunder series will know that, although Dortmunder isn’t exactly law-abiding, he is a sympathetic protagonist. In The Hot Rock, Dortmunder has just been released from prison. He’s planning to ‘go straight,’ but his friend, Andy Kelp, has other ideas. He tells Dortmunder that Major Patrick Iko, the U.N. Ambassador from the small country of Talabwo, wants to hire Dortmunder and Kelp for a heist. The target is a valuable emerald that is claimed by Talabwo, but is currently the property of another country, Akinsi. Iko wants that emerald, and is willing to pay well for it. Dortmunder assembles a team, and they plan the job. It doesn’t go as intended, though, and now, the team has to go up against several obstacles, including some people who don’t exactly ‘play nice’ themselves…

There’s an interesting example of ‘small-timers’ trying to get the best of a bigger player in Patricia Melo’s The Body Snatcher. A former telemarketer and sales representative from São Paulo has settled in the small town of Corumbá. He settles in, and begins a relationship with Sulamita, an administrative assistant to the local police. One day, the (unnamed) narrator happens to see a small plane crash into a nearby river. He rushes to the scene, and discovers that the pilot is beyond any help. He takes the pilot’s backpack and watch and leaves the scene. Later, he discovers that the backpack is filled with cocaine. The drugs are worth plenty of money, so the narrator decides to partner up with a friend and sell them as a one-time opportunity to make some cash. Things go well until the partners discover that the drug dealers they’ve gone into business with were also working with the dead pilot. The gangsters believe that the narrator and his partner have stolen their drugs, and they want their money back. Now, the narrator has to come up with a plan to get the money and get the better of these drug dealers. It’s a strange plan, but it just might work. At least, that’s what the narrator thinks.

Sophie Littlefield’s A Bad Day For Sorry introduces readers to Stella Hardesty. She’s the owner of a sewing supply store in small-town Prosper, Missouri. At least, that’s her legitimate business. But she also runs another sort of enterprise. Women who’ve been abused know through word of mouth that they can depend on Stella to help even the score. Stella isn’t a killer-for-hire. But she pays visits to men who’ve abused their wives, and reminds them, in very unpleasant ways, of how they’re supposed to behave. Most of the time, Stella’s clients have no more problems after one of her ‘social calls.’ One day, though, Stella finds out from one her clients, Chrissy Shaw, that Chrissy’s ex-husband, Roy Dean, has disappeared, and probably has her son, Tucker, with him. Chrissy wants her boy back, so, even though Stella works alone as a rule, Chrissy insists on joining in. Together, the two women find out where the boy is, and go up against a much bigger criminal operation. But they have their own resources. And, even though this isn’t a case of conning people, it does involve a couple of small-time people taking down much bigger fish, as the saying goes.

 There are plenty of other examples, too, of fictional grifters, con artists, and other criminal who have their own reasons and use their own resources to go up against their own. Sometimes even sleuths take part in the action. These are just a few examples. Over to you.  

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Randy Newman’s You Can’t Fool the Fat Man.

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Filed under Arthur Conan Doyle, Bill Pronzini, Donald Westlake, Patricia Melo, Sophie Littlefield

What’s On Your Radio?*

radio-dramasIn 1922, the BBC began airing daily radio news broadcasts. Radio had already been used to broadcast election results, among other things. And it wasn’t long before the power of radio was felt. Until the advent of reasonably priced commercial television, roughly thirty years later, radio was people’s source for news, entertainment, and more.

So, it shouldn’t be surprising that a lot of crime fiction, especially the crime fiction of those years, found its way to radio. And there’s still something about those radio broadcasts. They invite listeners to use their imaginations in ways that film and television don’t.

One set of mysteries that were adapted for radio was Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes mysteries. Various actors took the roles of Holmes and Dr. Watson; among the most famous were Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce. Fans will know that they also played these characters on film. But there were several other actors, too, who took those roles. An argument has been made that these radio broadcasts were responsible for a resurgence of interest in Conan Doyle’s stories. And what’s interesting is that the broadcasts didn’t end when television became popular. There were even some made in the 1970s and 1980s. If you’d like to experience some of these broadcasts for yourself, several of them are available right here.

G.K. Chesterton’s Father Brown stories were also brought to the radio. From 1984 to 1986, the BBC aired several of the stories, with Andrew Sachs taking the title role. What’s interesting about this radio series is that it aired long after television was entrenched in many cultures. Stories such as The Blue Cross, The Hammer of God, and The Honour of Israel Gow were successfully adapted for radio. Like many of the Sherlock Holmes adventures, many of the Father Brown mysteries are short stories (as opposed to novellas or novels). That format really seems to lend itself well to the radio format.  If you’re interested in listening, you can find them here (there are even two from an older (1945) radio series).

Agatha Christie fans can tell you that she wrote several plays, including radio plays. For instance, she adapted her short story Yellow Iris for radio; it premiered on BBC Radio in 1937. This story takes place mostly in a restaurant, and the radio play had much more of a focus on that setting than did the short story. Later, the story was adapted again into a full-length novel that Christie called Sparkling Cyanide. There were some significant differences between the story and the novel, too, including a change of detective (it’s Poirot in the story, but not in the novel) and a different murderer. If you get the chance to experience all three versions of the story, I invite you to see which version works the best for you. Plenty of other Christie works have been adapted for radio. You can listen to many of them right here, including some from 1944-45.

Ellery Queen has been popular with crime fiction fans since 1929. And Queen’s adventures have been adapted for stage and screen (both large and small) several times. There’ve also been Ellery Queen radio dramas; in fact, the ‘Queen team’ of Frederic Danney and Manfred Lee wrote the early scripts for the 1939-1948 series.  Later, (in the 1970s), there was another incarnation of Ellery Queen on the radio. This time, the title was The Ellery Queen Minute Mysteries. As the name suggests, listeners were briefly given a set of clues and a scenario, and then invited to solve the mystery. If you’d like to try your hand at some of them, or, if you’d like to listen to some of the earlier broadcasts, you can do so right here. One note is in order. This site doesn’t include the original correct titles for the broadcasts. But they’re announced in the broadcasts themselves, and Queen fans will likely find the stories familiar.

Raymond Chandler’s Philip Marlowe has been an iconic crime fiction figure for more than seventy years. Since that time, Marlowe has starred in film and television adaptations as well as in novels and short stories. There was also a radio series, The Adventures of Philip Marlowe, based on the Chandler stories. The series, which ran, all told, from 1947 to 1958, starred Van Heflin and, later, Gerald Mohr in the lead role. If you’d like to hear some of these episodes, you can experience them right here.

Most of the radio dramas didn’t faithfully follow the stories on which they were based. Some of them were entirely new stories that simply used the famous sleuths as protagonists. But all of them had a role in keeping people interested in crime fiction and in those sleuths in particular. And, in the era before television dominated media, radio was an important form of entertainment. That was especially true for those who didn’t have access to a nearby cinema or theatre. Even today, audio broadcasts have an appeal. They invite listeners to use their imaginations, and they offer a way to experience mystery stories through a different medium.

What do you think? Have you listened to the old radio broadcasts (and some not-so-old) of crime stories? What’s your opinion? Does it bother you when they veer off the original stories?

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is the title of a song by The Living End

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Arthur Conan Doyle, Ellery Queen, G.K. Chesterton, Raymond Chandler

When Sleuths Take Flight ;-)

when-sleuths-take-flightAs this is posted, it’s 113 years since Wilbur and Orville Wright conducted the first sustained flight of a motor aircraft. Since that time, flight has changed dramatically. Of course, modern air travel has lots of inconveniences, and I’m sure all of you have your own airline ‘horror stories.’ I know I do.

It’s all got me to thinking. At this time of year, many people travel by air, whether it’s to visit friends and family, or to get away for a holiday. Fictional sleuths are no different, if you think about it. So, what would it be like if some of our most famous fictional sleuths took to the air on a modern flight? If you’ll ask your disbelief to go get some snacks and an airport book for the trip, let’s talk about…

 

When Sleuths Take Flight

 

I. Miss Marple (Agatha Christie)

 

Miss Marple approaches the security checkpoint. She is carrying a handbag and a tote bag that contains her knitting and a book.

First Security Officer: Boarding pass and ID, please.
Miss Marple (After fumbling for a moment in her purse for her boarding pass): Here you are.

The security officer glances at the documents and then briefly at Miss Marple. Then, the officer nods and waves a hand towards the conveyer belts. Miss Marple approaches the belt and places her things on the belt as she walks through the metal detector.

Second Security Officer (Holding up Miss Marple’s tote bag): Whose is this bag?
Miss Marple; Why, that’s mine. She steps over to retrieve it, but the security officer holds up a hand to stop her.
Second Security Officer: I’m afraid you can’t take this on board, Madam.
Miss Marple: Whyever not?
Second Security Officer: It’s the knitting needles, Madam. They’re forbidden on the aircraft. You may check them if you wish.
Miss Marple: But then I shall have to go down two floors, through the security checkpoint again, and then quite probably miss my flight.
Second Security Officer: I’m sorry, Madam, but that’s the rule. No knitting needles on board.
Miss Marple (Leaning closer and looking somewhat sorrowful): You know, it would be a real shame, wouldn’t it, if I couldn’t finish this jumper that I’m knitting. It’s a Christmas present, you see. And (drops her voice even lower as her eyes become much shrewder), you wouldn’t want me to mention to your superiors that I saw that open flask in your pocket, would you? She smiles and reaches out for the tote. The security officer hands it back to her wordlessly. She straightens up and, with great dignity, goes on towards the gate. 

 

II.Sherlock Holmes (Arthur Conan Doyle)

 

Holmes and Dr. Watson are seated on a plane. Watson glances around; Holmes is reading a scholarly paper on bloodstain analysis.

Watson:  Quite a nice pair of seats we have, Holmes, wouldn’t you say?
Holmes (Without looking up): I daresay they are comfortable, but the airline has certainly seen better financial days. These seat covers have been repaired at least three times, rather than being replaced. And you’ll note that the overhead compartments are made of a plastic that was last manufactured eight years ago. A solvent airline would replace them with a more modern plastic.
Watson (Now looking out of the window): Holmes! Look here! You can see the entire region!
Holmes: (Glances past Watson’s shoulder at the view from the window). Yes, we are approximately five miles from Ramsgate, heading south. You will observe the way the traces of the Wealdon Dome become quite obvious at this point. He turns back to his paper. Watson snaps down the window shade and, shaking his head, picks up his book.

 

III. Nero Wolfe (Rex Stout)

 

Wolfe and Archie Goodwin are sitting in the First Class cabin. Wolfe looks around peevishly, and shifts in his seat.

Wolfe: Confound it, Archie! I cannot possibly be expected to be comfortable in this seat! It was obviously designed for a malnourished ten-year-old street urchin!
Goodwin (Looking pointedly at Wolfe’s bulk): I’m not having any problems. Besides, I figured you were gonna gripe about it, so I got you two seats.
Wolfe: Two!? Preposterous! You see, Archie? This is why I object so strenuously to any kind of travel. There is simply no room to sit. And what will happen when this infernal contraption begins to move?
Goodwin (Shrugs): Best way to get where we’re going. The client lives in Miami. And he’s rolling in it. We want the dough, we go there. Besides, you haven’t wanted to throw a Christmas party in a few years. Might’s well go where it’s warmer.
Wolfe: Hmmph. He tries again to settle into his seat. For a few moments, there’s silence. Archie stretches his legs, slips his fedora over his eyes, and tries to sleep. Meanwhile, Wolfe is looking at the menu card. Then he mutters, grudgingly.  Well, at least there’s to be a real meal. Medallions of lamb, baby potatoes, yes, it might be all right. Archie pretends not to hear his boss, but smiles a little.

An hour later….

Archie straightens up and pushes back his fedora. He and Wolfe are getting ready to eat. A flight attendant brings them utensils. Wolfe looks askance at his.

Wolfe: Archie, this isn’t genuine silver.
Goodwin: So? It does the job. Better than what you get at a greasy spoon. He looks up as the attendant returns, this time with covered food dishes. The attendant places some dishes in front of each man and invites them to enjoy their meals. Wolfe suspiciously lifts the lid off his dish.
Wolfe: I don’t like the smell of this, Archie. Not at all. It certainly doesn’t smell like proper medallions of lamb.
Goodwin (already starting to eat his own meal): It’s OK. Give it a try.
Wolfe raises an eyebrow, but slowly picks up his fork and takes a cautious bite. Immediately he winces and drops the fork. He then lets out a stream of incoherent Serbo-Croatian invective. The flight attendant rushes up.

Flight attendant: Is something wrong, sir?
Goodwin: Nah, I think he just bit his tongue a little. He starts to grin as he turns his attention back to his meal.

 

IV. Kurt Wallander (Henning Mankell)
 

Wallander is sitting morosely in his Economy Class seat. He is on the aisle. The passenger to his left is wearing a red cap decorated with a pom-pom and sparkles. She turns to Wallander.

Passenger: Don’t you just adore Christmas? I do!! It’s so lovely with all of the lights, and the presents, and the good will!

Wallander nods in an attempt to be polite, and opens a report he has on his lap. Just then, there is an announcement requesting all passengers to pay attention to the safety video. Wallander sighs, puts down his report and looks up at the monitor in front of him. The characters on this particular safety video are all elves, and the whole theme is Christmas joy. When the video finally ends, Wallander picks up his report again. Just then, there’s a noise from across the aisle. Sitting there is a set of parents with two very small children. They’ve begun to sing Christmas songs, clapping to the rhythm and encouraging their youngsters to do the same. A flight attendant, dressed like a Christmas elf, comes down the aisle. She stops when she gets to the front of the cabin.

Flight Attendant: Welcome on board everyone! Now, to get us in the holiday spirit, why don’t we all join this lovely family here and sing some Christmas carols! Won’t that be fun?  Wallander signals for the flight attendant and, when he arrives, asks for whisky.

These are just a few examples (space precludes any more from me). Your turn!

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Arthur Conan Doyle, Henning Mankell, Rex Stout

When They Built You, Brother, They Broke the Mold*

brothersAn interesting post from Cleo, at Cleopatra Loves Books, has got me thinking about the roles that brothers play in fiction. There are plenty of stories about the bonds we may have with sisters, and that’s all to the good. But our bonds with brothers are also important, and they’re different to the bonds we have with sisters.

Bonds with brothers play important roles in crime fiction. And it’s interesting to see how they’re woven into plots in different ways. That’s realistic, though, if you think about it. There are many different kinds of relationships we could have with a brother.

Fans of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes will know that he has an older brother, Mycroft. Dr. Watson doesn’t learn about Mycroft’s existence until The Adventure of the Greek Interpreter. In that story, Mycroft has heard a strange story from Mr. Melas, who lives on the floor above him. When Sherlock and Dr. Watson visit Mycroft at the Diogenes Club, they hear the story, too. It seems that Mr. Melas was abducted for a specific reason: he is bilingual in Greek and English. And someone forced him to translate during a very unsettling interrogation. This problem leads to a case involving greed and inherited property. And it shows an interesting side of Sherlock Holmes. In one scene, he and his brother are looking out a window and have a conversation about two men that they see:

“Look at these two men who are coming towards us, for example.’
‘The billiard-marker and the other?’
‘Precisely. What do you make of the other?’
The two men had stopped opposite the window. Some chalk marks over the waistcoat pocket were the only signs of billiards which I could see in one of them. The other was a very small, dark fellow, with his hat pushed back and several packages under his arm.
‘An old soldier, I perceive,’ said Sherlock.
‘And very recently discharged,’ remarked the brother.
‘Served in India, I see.’
‘And a non-commissioned officer.’
‘Royal Artillery, I fancy,’ said Sherlock.
‘And a widower.’
‘But with a child.’
‘Children, my dear boy, children.’
‘Come,’ said I, laughing, ‘this is a little too much.”

The conversation shows that private sort of language that brothers can develop. It also has hints of the competition, however friendly, that come up between brothers.

There’s an interesting brother/sister relationship in Agatha Christie’s Dumb Witness (AK Poirot Loses a Client). In that novel, wealthy Emily Arundell has a potentially fatal fall down a flight of stairs. As she’s recuperating, she begins to think her fall was no accident. So, she writes to Hercule Poirot to ask him to investigate. She’s not specific in her request, but Poirot is intrigued by her letter, and he and Captain Hastings visit Miss Arundell. By the time they get there, though, it’s too late. She has died of what’s put down to liver failure. Poirot isn’t satisfied, though. And, at any rate, he feels a responsibility to his client, although she has died. So, he and Hastings investigate the matter. They find that this death was a murder, and that more than one person had a very good motive. Two of the suspects are Miss Arundell’s niece, Theresa Arundell, and her brother, Charles. Both are desperate for money, and Charles had even said something to his aunt that easily be could construed as a threat. Throughout the novel, it’s interesting to see how Theresa and Charles try to protect each other, even as neither completely trusts in the other’s innocence. They understand one another at a very deep level.

In Martin Clark’s The Legal Limit, we meet brothers Mason and Gates Hunt. They’ve been raised in an abusive environment, but they’ve survived. Gates did his best to protect his younger brother, and Mason feels a sense of duty towards Gates for that reason. Mason takes advantage of every opportunity he gets, and ends up going to law school on a scholarship. For his part, Gates squanders his considerable athletic talent, and ends up living on money he gets from his mother and from his girlfriend’s Welfare payments. One day, Gates has an argument with his romantic rival, Wayne Thompson. The fight starts again later that night, when the Hunt brothers are coming home from a night out and encounter Thompson. The argument spirals out of control and before anyone really knows what’s happened, Gates has shot Thompson. Mason still feels a strong sense of loyalty and gratitude to his brother, so he helps Gates hide the gun and cover his tracks. The years go by, and the Hunt brothers move on in life. Mason becomes a prosecutor for the Commonwealth of Virginia. Gates starts having brushes with the law, culminating in an arrest for cocaine trafficking. He’s given a lengthy sentence, and asks his brother to help get him out of prison. This time, Mason refuses to support his brother. Gates threatens him, saying that if he doesn’t help, Gates will implicate him in the still-unsolved Thompson murder. Mason knows that his brother isn’t above making good on that threat, and that’s exactly what happens. Now, Mason has to defend himself against a murder charge. One of the themes in this book is brotherly protectiveness and the loyalty that can engender – even when it can prove dangerous.

Fans of Arnaldur Indriðason’s series featuring Reykjavík Inspector Erlendur can tell you that Erlendur is haunted by an experience he had as a boy. He and his younger brother, Bergur, were caught outdoors in a blizzard. Erlendur survived the storm, but Bergur was lost. The storm was so severe that no trace of him was ever found. Elendur has been carrying the weight of guilt and responsibility ever since, and a big part of the reason for that is that he is the older brother. A part of him feels that he should have protected Bergur, even though, as an adult, he understands that it’s not as simple as that.

And then there’s William Kent Krueger’s Ordinary Grace. This coming-of-age story features thirteen-year-old Frank Drum and his younger brother, Jake. It’s the early 1960s in small-town Minnesota, and the Drum brothers are looking forward to baseball, going down to the local river, and relaxing. Everything changes when a boy that the Frank and Jake knew is killed on a railroad track. People say it was an accident, but it may not be. Then, murder strikes their own family. When that happens, the brothers have to depend on each other in ways they haven’t before. And they learn new things about each other. It’s a fascinating look at the way brothers perceive one another.

Relationships with brothers can be complicated. But they’re also fascinating. So, it’s little wonder we see them so often in crime fiction. I’ve only had space here for a few examples. I know you’ll think of more.

Thanks, Cleo, for the inspiration. Now, folks, give yourselves a treat and visit Cleo’s terrific blog. Fine reviews await you there.

ps. The ‘photo is of the brother/sister dance at a friend’s wedding. It was a truly lovely wedding, and I couldn’t imagine a better depiction.
 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Bruce Springsteen’s Terry’s Song.

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Filed under Agatha Raisin, Arnaldur Indriðason, Arthur Conan Doyle, Martin Clark, William Kent Krueger