Category Archives: Domingo Villar

Looks Like Another Suicide*

Faked SuicidesOne way in which real and fictional murderers may try to hide their crimes is by setting the scene to make it look as though the victim committed suicide. After all, we never really know what’s in someone’s mind, so it’s plausible that someone might commit suicide without giving a hint of suicidal thinking. That certainly happens in real life, and thanks to Carol at Reading, Writing and Riesling, I’ve been thinking about how it can happen in crime fiction too.

Agatha Christie used that plot point in several of her stories. In Dead Man’s Mirror, for instance, Hercule Poirot receives a summons from Gervase Chevenix-Gore to the family home at Hamborough Close. Chevenix-Gore believes that someone in his family may be cheating him, and he doesn’t want to call in the police. Poirot is none too happy about being summoned in such an autocratic way, but he goes. Shortly after Poirot’s arrival, Chevenix-Gore is killed, apparently the result of suicide. And several signs point to just that explanation. But Poirot has already concluded that the victim was most assuredly not the kind of person who would kill himself. So he investigates further and finds that someone set the scene up to look like suicide.

Giorgio Scerbanenco’s A Private Venus begins when Milan-based Dr. Luca Lamberti is hired by wealthy engineer Pietro Auseri to help with Auseri’s son Davide. It seems that Davide has developed a severe depression coupled with a serious drinking problem. Nothing seems to have helped, and now Auseri simply doesn’t know what to do next. Lamberti agrees to at least meet Davide and see if he can be of assistance. After a time, he learns the reason for Davide’s troubles. A year earlier, Davide met a young woman, Alberta Radelli. After spending a day out of town together, Alberta begged Davide not to take her back to Milan. In fact, she threatened suicide if he did, and tried to persuade him to take her along wherever he was going. Davide refused. Not long afterwards, Alberta’s body was discovered in a field outside Milan, an apparent victim of suicide. Now Davide blames himself for her death. Lamberti comes to believe that the only way to help his patient is to find out what really happened to Alberta. So he begins to look into the matter. Davide soon takes an interest too. In the end, Lamberti discovers that Alberta did not commit suicide; she’d gotten involved in a very dangerous business with some very dangerous people, and paid the price.

Helene Tursten’s Detective Inspector Huss introduces Göteborg Inspector Irene Huss. She is part of the Violent Crimes Unit supervised by Sven Andersson. When the team hears of the death of wealthy businessman Richard von Knecht, they go into action. The victim apparently committed suicide by jumping from the balcony of his upmarket penthouse. But soon enough, forensic and other evidence suggests that von Knecht was murdered. What’s more, he didn’t seem despondent enough to have taken his own life. What’s more, von Knecht was afraid of heights. If he’d decided to commit suicide, he wouldn’t likely have used that means to do so. Now that it seems clear von Knecht was murdered, Huss and her team look more closely at the people in the victim’s life to see who would have had a motive to kill him. It turns out that there’s more than one possibility.

Domingo Villar’s Death on a Galician Shore begins with the discovery of the body of local fisherman Justo Castelo. At first it looks as though Castelo committed suicide; and he kept to himself so successfully that no-one really knows whether he had a motive. But little pieces of evidence suggest to Vigo Inspector Leo Caldas that perhaps Castelo was murdered. So Caldas and his team begin to look a little more closely into the victim’s life. They find that his death is related to a tragic incident in the past.

Suicide by drowning also seems to be the verdict in Martin Edwards’ The Serpent Pool. DCI Hannah Scarlett and her Cold Case Review Team have re-opened the six-year-old case of the death of Bethany Friend. Scarlett isn’t entirely satisfied that the victim committed suicide. For one thing, she didn’t seem to have a motive. For another, she was very much afraid of drowning; so, even if she had decided to kill herself, Scarlett doubts she’d have chosen that method. As the team finds out more, Scarlett comes to believe that this death may be related to two more recent deaths. And so it proves to be. The three deaths have a link that Oxford historian Daniel Kind helps to discover.

And then there’s Katherine Howell’s Web of Deceit. One morning, Sydney paramedics Jane Koutofides and Alex Churchill go to the scene of a one-auto crash. The driver, Marko Meixner, refuses to let them take him to a local hospital at first. In fact, he says that he is in danger and they will be, too, if they spend any time with him. Koutofides thinks Meixner needs a psychiatric evaluation, so when she and Churchill finally get their patient to the nearest hospital, she requests a workup. But Meixner leaves before that can be done. Later that day, he is killed in what looks like a suicide when he falls under a commuter train. In fact, he’d attempted suicide before. But when New South Wales Police Inspector Ella Marconi learns what Meixner said to the paramedics, she begins to wonder whether this was a case of murder. So she and her police partner Murray Shakespeare look more closely at the case. They find that Meixner’s murder was engineered.

There are a lot of other cases, too, of fictional murders ‘dressed’ as suicides. Which ones have stayed with you? Thanks to Carol for the inspiration! Now, may I suggest your next blog stop be her excellent Reading, Writing and Riesling? You’ll be rewarded with great book reviews (with a focus on Australian writers) as well as terrific recipes and stunning ‘photos.


*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Billy Joel’s Close to the Borderline.


Filed under Agatha Christie, Domingo Villar, Giorgio Scerbanenco, Helene Tursten, Katherine Howell, Martin Edwards

I Know There’s Fish Out There*

FishingFishing has been woven into our human experience since people first learned how to catch fish. Although people all over the world eat seafood, you really see the fishing culture in seaside or lakeside areas, for obvious reasons.

Fishing is big business, too. Whether it’s sport fishing or commercial fishing, there’s a lot of money to be made in the industry. Fishing is so deeply ingrained into human history that it makes complete sense that it’s also an important part of crime fiction. There’s no possible way for me to mention all of the novels in which fishing plays a role; but here are a few examples.

In John Bude’s The Cornish Coast Mystery, Reverend Dodd, vicar of St. Michael’s-on-the-Sea, takes an interest in the shooting murder of Julius Tregarthan. Dodd’s friend Dr. Pendrill has been called to the scene, and Dodd comes along. Soon enough, it’s clear that this case isn’t going to be easy. The victim was shot through the open window of his sitting room. Three shots seem to have been fired, all from slightly different angles. So one possibility is that there were actually three assailants. Other evidence, though, makes that unlikely. It doesn’t help matters that more than one person had a motive for murder, so there are several suspects. As he follows leads, Dodd finds that he gets some very valuable information from a local man who sometimes takes his fishing boat out.

Lots of people depend on fishing for a living, even if they don’t work for a large commercial outfit. For instance, in Domingo Villar’s Death on a Galician Shore, Vigo Inspector Leo Caldas and his assistant Rafael Estevez investigate the death of a local fisherman, Justo Castelo. In many ways, the death looks like a suicide. But little clues suggest to Caldas that Castelo might have been murdered. The only problem is that there doesn’t seem to be much motive. Castelo wasn’t wealthy, and he lived a quiet life. In fact, he preferred not to mix very much socially. Then, Caldas discovers something important. In 1996, Castelo and two other fishermen were on board a boat with Captain Antonio Sousa when a terrible storm struck. Sousa was lost in the storm, but the other three made it back to land. They’ve never spoken of the incident since, but Caldas finds that it plays a role in Castelo’s death. This novel offers an interesting look at the small-time fishing life, with boats coming in early in the morning to sell their catch at the local warehouses, and the area restaurants and individual buyers coming in later to make their choices. It’s not an easy life.

We also see that in Sandy Curtis’ Deadly Tide. Allan ‘Tug’ Bretton has captained his Brisbane-based family boat Sea Mistress for quite a long time. But he’s got a broken leg from an incident that ended in the murder of Ewan McKay, a deckhand from another trawler. Bretton’s daughter Samantha ‘Sam’ wants very much to take her father’s place as skipper until he’s back on duty. Her logic is that if Sea Mistress doesn’t go out, the family fishing business will suffer and may fail. Her father finally agrees, and Sam prepares to gather her crew. Her new deckhand is Chayse Garrett, an undercover police officer who’s investigating McKay’s death. The police suspect that Bretton killed McKay, and that he might be involved in the drugs smuggling trade; Garrett’s job is to find evidence bearing on that theory. Sam’s not aware of Garrett’s identity as a detective, but she has her own reasons for wanting to bring down McKay’s killer and clear her father’s name. As Sea Mistress’ crew looks for answers, we learn a lot about life on a modern trawler. We also learn how the small-time fishing industry can sometimes be useful to the smuggling trade.

Smuggling also happens in the larger commercial fishing trade. In Martin Cruz Smith’s Polar Star, for instance, Arkady Renko has been assigned to work as a crew member on the Soviet fishing ship Polar Star. It’s a punishment for his pursuit of highly-placed Party officials (read Gorky Park for the details). Renko is fed up anyway with policing, especially if it doesn’t really change things. But he’s drawn into a case of murder when one of his crew mates, Zina Patiashvili, is hauled out of the ocean with the day’s catch. At first, there seems no motive for the murder. The victim was a galley worker, like everyone else, and hadn’t any obvious enemies or wealth. But soon enough, Renko learns that there was another side to her. She was involved in smuggling and blackmailing, and some very important people are implicated.

Andrea Camilleri’s Salvo Montalbano lives and works in fictional Vigàta, on Sicily. So as you can imagine, there’s lots of fishing integrated into that series. For example, in one plot thread of The Snack Thief, Montalbano investigates the shooting of a Tunisian sailor who happened to be aboard an Italian fishing boat. Montalbano finds that he was killed when a Tunisian boat fired on the Italian boat. The question then becomes: how accidental was the death, really? In that thread of the story, Camilleri makes reference to the long-standing unease between Tunisia and Sicily over water, territory and fishing rights.

Many people enjoy sport fishing and fishing as a hobby. So there’s also a lucrative business in providing places and equipment for fishing enthusiasts. Just ask Nelson Brunanski’s John ‘Bart’ Bartowksi. He and his wife Rosie live in the small Saskatchewan town of Crooked Lake. But they own Stuart Lake Lodge, a holiday fishing lodge in the northern part of the province. Clients come from many different places, including other countries, to spend time fishing and relaxing. It sounds harmless enough, but in Burnt Out, the lodge is burned, and a body discovered in the ruins of the fire. Now, gossip spreads that Bart is guilty of arson and very likely murder, too. He knows that he’ll need to find out what happened to his family’s business if he’s to clear his name. The Bartowskis aren’t going to be the same after this tragedy, but Bart’s determined to at least preserve the family’s integrity.

Scotland’s another popular place for sport fishing. Just ask M.C. Beaton’s Hamish Macbeth. He’s the local bobby for the village of Lochdubh, but he’d just as soon relax with a fishing line. So he understands the appeal of John and Heather Cartwright’s Lochdubh School of Casting: Salmon and Trout Fishing, to which we’re introduced in Death of a Gossip. The Cartwrights open a new class, hoping that all will go well. It doesn’t. One of the participants is Jane Maxwell, gossip columnist for the London Evening Star. She wants new fodder for her column, and is willing to go through everyone’s proverbial closet, looking for skeletons. When she’s found strangled with casting line, it’s clear that someone in that fishing class didn’t want her to find out too much. Macbeth investigates, and as he does, we learn a bit about the modern fishing resort. There are a lot of other crime-fictional mentions of the Scottish fishing life, too, including Gordon Ferris’ The Hanging Shed and Mark Douglas-Home’s The Sea Detective, to name just two.

There are many, many other examples of fishing in crime fiction (I know, I know, fans of Johan Theorin’s Gerloff Davidsson). Which do you like best?


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


Filed under Andrea Camilleri, Domingo Villar, Gordon Ferris, Johan Theorin, John Bude, M.C. Beaton, Mark Douglas-Home, Martin Cruz Smith, Nelson Brunanski, Sandy Curtis

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.


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

I Heard it on My Radio*

RadioAn interesting post on podcasting from crime writer Elizabeth Spann Craig has got me thinking about broadcasting. Her excellent writing blog inspires me; it’s a must-visit for writers and anyone interested in the process of writing. Podcasts are a very new form of broadcasting, but radio has been around for a very long time. In fact, it was arguably the first real-time medium of mass communication. And even with the advent of television and the internet, radio is still a popular and powerful tool. It’s not surprising then that radio plays a role in crime fiction. Here are just a few examples; I know you’ll think of dozens more than I can.

In Agatha Christie’s Peril at End House, Hercule Poirot and Captain Hastings are on a holiday in Cornwall. There they meet Magdala ‘Nick’ Buckley, who has a house there. Poirot soon comes to suspect that someone is trying to kill Nick, although she herself doesn’t believe him at first. Then, she has a few ‘near misses.’ Poirot doesn’t want her staying in the house by herself, so Nick invites her cousin Maggie for a few weeks. Tragically, Maggie is killed during her visit. She was wearing one of her cousin’s shawls at the time of the murder; and this obvious case of mistaken identity convinces Poirot that Nick is in imminent danger. He arranges for her to be safely cared for at a hospital, where she’s told to eat nothing from ‘outside.’ When the murderer tries to strike again, Poirot has to act quickly. In this case, a radio broadcast is key to what the killer chooses to do.

The police have their own radio frequencies; and police radio plays a role in Michael Connelly’s The Black Ice. One Christmas night, LAPD cop Harry Bosch is ‘on call,’ and has his police scanner running in the background. That’s how he hears that a body has been discovered at a seedy hotel in his district. To him, it’s surprising that no-one called him to let him know, since he’s on duty. He goes to the scene only to find that the dead man is Calexico ‘Cal’ Moore, a fellow police officer. The death bears all the hallmarks of suicide, but a few things don’t add up for Bosch. The official explanation is that Moore killed himself because he’d ‘gone dirty’ and was involved in drug smuggling. In order to protect the department’s reputation, Bosch is told to leave the case alone and accept it as a suicide (in fact, that’s why he wasn’t called). Bosch fans will know that leaving things alone is not his style, so he keeps asking questions. In the end, and after a trip to the US/Mexico border area, he finds out the complex truth behind this death.

Even with the popularity of television and the Internet, there are still plenty of successful and well-known radio celebrities. Some of them are quite controversial, too. We see an example of the rise of the ‘shock jock’ in Robert B. Parker’s High Profile. In that novel, we meet celebrity radio personality Walton Weeks. His politically-charged broadcasts have made him a host of fanatic followers and enemies; his private life has been just as full of drama. So when he is found shot and hung, Paradise, Massachusetts Police Chief Jesse Stone has his pick of suspects. For one thing, Weeks’ broadcasts had inspired strong passion on both sides, so to speak. For another, his ex-wives and his current wife all had good reason to want him out of the way. Stone is working on this case when there’s another murder. This time, the victim is Weeks’ pregnant mistress. Stone finds that there were a lot of secrets in Weeks’ life, and that those secrets turned out to be fatal.

In one plot thread of Kate Atkinson’s One Good Turn, we are introduced to comic Richard Mott. He’s been invited to headline a lunchtime radio comedy show, and arranges for his housemate, crime writer Martin Canning, to get tickets. On the day of the show, Canning and several other characters in the novel are waiting for the doors to open when they witness a car accident. A blue Honda hits the back of a silver Peugot driven by Paul Bradley. Both men get out of their cars and are soon arguing bitterly. Then the Honda driver wields a baseball bat and attacks Bradley. Mostly by instinct, Canning throws his computer case at the Honda driver, saving Bradley’s life. A sense of obligation drives Canning to ensure that Bradley gets safely to the nearest hospital; before he knows it, he’s far more involved than he wants to be in a case of multiple murders, fraud and theft.

Robert Rotenberg’s Old City Hall introduces readers to Toronto radio personality Kevin Brace. He and his common-law wife Katherine Torn are both successful, and have an upscale lifestyle which includes a home in the exclusive Market Place Tower condominiums. Everything changes one morning when Torn is found dead in one of the bathtubs. Brace is quickly arrested, and indicates that he wants to be represented by Nancy Parish. Acting for the Crown will be Albert Fernandez. While the attorneys prepare for the legal aspects of this case, Police Detective Ari Green and his team investigate the crime. One possible explanation for the seemingly airtight case against Brace is that he was framed. If that’s the case, then one likely suspect is Donald Dundas, another radio personality who stands to become a broadcasting star with Brace out of the way. And Dundas might have had his own reasons for wanting Torn dead. As the police and attorneys fallow this trail, we learn some interesting things about the modern big-city radio business.

Domingo Villar’s Leo Caldas is a detective with the Vigo police. He also has a radio call-in show. The goal of the show is closer ties between the police and the community, so callers get to ask their questions (or lodge their complaints) in direct conversations with Caldas. The show is so popular that when people are introduced to Caldas, they invariably say something like, ‘Oh, from Patrolling the Waves?’ He’s actually better known for the radio broadcast than he is for anything else.

And that just goes to show that radio still has an important impact. People do listen to audio broadcasts. These are just some instances. You’re now on the air to offer more.


*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Queen’s Radio Ga Ga.


Filed under Agatha Christie, Domingo Villar, Kate Atkinson, Michael Connelly, Robert B. Parker, Robert Rotenberg

Red, Red Wine, Stay Close to Me*


When you’re having a nice dinner or perhaps sitting in a wine bar, you may not think a lot about the work that goes into making that delicious glass of wine you’re enjoying. But it doesn’t get there by magic. Vintners take their work very seriously, and the best ones take great pride in producing memorable wines. It’s a tricky business too. An oenologist can tell you that producing great wine requires exactly the right mix of weather, grapes, fermenting, bottling and so on. It takes real dedication to make a success of a vineyard. And any number of things can happen in the process. What’s more, one bottle or batch of less-than-good wine can ruin a vineyard’s reputation. So a lot’s at stake too. But as those who enjoy wine know, a good glass of the right wine is a real treasure.

Vineyards feature quite a lot in crime fiction and that makes sense when you consider how important wine is in many cultures. I only have the space here for a few examples; I’m quite sure you can think of lots more.

Domingo Villar’s Inspector Leo Caldas lives and works in Vigo, in the Spanish region of Galicia. Galician wine has a world-class reputation for good reason. Trust me. And Caldas’ father is a part of that region’s vineyard culture. Since the death of his wife, Caldas’ father has built up the family vineyard little by little, and has gotten to the point where he’s producing some decent wine for which he has very high hopes. For him, growing grapes and making wine is not only a tribute to his late wife, but also a way to connect with the land and with growing things. To him, that’s real, if I may put it that way. And although his son is a cop and always will be, he does respect the process of wine making and when he visits the vineyard, he feels a sense of connection to his parents.

In Jill Paterson’s Once Upon a Lie, Sydney DI Alistair Fitzjohn and his assistant DS Martin Betts are seconded from their own Day Street station to the shortstaffed Kings Cross Police Station when the body of businessman Michael Rossi is discovered at a marina at Rushcutter’s Bay. There are several suspects in this murder, since a variety of people stand to benefit from Rossi’s death. One angle that the detectives pursue is Rossi’s interest in Five Oaks Winery, which has been in the family for a long time. The victim’s niece Charlotte is set to benefit from that connection and what’s more, Rossi had had real disagreements with some of the Five Oaks staff about running the vineyard. So on more than one level, the vineyard is a place of interest. The truth about the murder isn’t as simple as the tragic result of an argument, but the police do get some interesting background on the family, and readers get a look at New South Wales’ winemaking culture. When it comes to Australia’s superb wines, I can also personally vouch for South Australia’s McLaren Vale wines. Trust me.

California also produces some very well-known and highly-regarded wines. Northern California’s Napa and Sonoma Valleys in particular are known for their vineyards and wine-making. And there are plenty of mystery novels and series that take a look at the Northern California wine industry. For example, there’s Michele Scott’s cosy Wine Lovers series. This series features Nikki Sands, who began to be interested in wine when she was waiting tables between acting roles. When she’s hired on at a major Napa vineyard, she has no idea how dangerous it will be.

Wine expert Edward Finstein’s Pinot Envy features Woody Robins, a ‘wine guru’ whose specialty is rare wine artifacts. Powerful grape grower Walter Pendry has heard of Robins’ reputation, and Robins is the man he wants for a case of theft. Pendry’s the owner of a very rare double magnum of wine that was once owned by Napoleon. When his prize property is stolen, he hires Robins to get the bottle back. What starts as a case of theft turns into blackmail, Mob activity and murder. This novel is about the case of course, but it also shows readers the Napa food and wine culture.

At the beginning of Rita Mae Brown’s Mary Minor ‘Harry’ Haristeen series, her sleuth is the postmistress of the tiny town of Crozet, Virginia. She also manages her own small farm. As the series goes on, changes in the postal system mean that Harry leaves her job at the post office. But she still needs an income. So in Cat’s Eyewitnesses she decides to try her hand at winemaking. In Sour Puss, Crozet gets a visit from world-renowned oenologist Professor Vincent Forland. Harry is hoping he’ll be able to give her feedback on her grape growing and advice for making good wine. But before she can ask him, Forland disappears and is later found dead. So Harry has to look among the other winemakers in the area to find out who would have wanted to kill Forland and why.

And of course, I couldn’t discuss vineyards without mentioning Jean-Pierre Alaux and Noël Balen. Their Winemaker Detective series is only now being translated into English although it’s not a new series. Thus far two novels, Treachery in Bordeaux and Grand Cru Heist have been translated. The series features well-known and respected oenologist Benjamin Cooker and his assistant Virgile Lanssien. Between them, the two have an awful lot of expertise, which they bring to bear in Treachery in Bordeaux when a local vintner finds that some of his wine has been contaminated. In Grand Cru Heist, Cooker and Lanssien investigate when there are two murders and a theft of two priceless bottles of Grand Cru. All of these are connected with the hotel where Cooker is staying during a trip to the Loire Valley; they are also connected with his own Bordeaux region. This series gives readers an ‘inside’ look at what goes into the entire winemaking process, from growing the grapes to bottling and later selling the wine.

The process is a lot more complicated than you may think when you’re choosing whether to go with a Shiraz or a Cabernet Sauvignon with your meal. It involves a real commitment of time and effort, some ‘weather luck’ and a store of knowledge about how wine is made. And that vineyard context makes for some delicious crime fiction too. Space doesn’t permit me to mention all of the examples there are, but there are plenty of them. They range from cosy to darker, from sweet to dry, from hearty to light…. Well, you get the idea. Which vineyard-based crime fiction have you tasted?



*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Neil Diamond’s Red, Red Wine, made popular by UB40.


Filed under Domingo Villar, Edward Finstein, Jean-Pierre Alaux, Jill Paterson, Michele Scott, Nöel Balen, Rita Mae Brown