Category Archives: John Alexander Graham

So Similar and Estranged*

Estrangement in families can happen for any number of reasons, really. Sometimes they happen for specific reasons, and sometimes it’s more a matter of drifting apart. Sometimes, the people involved simply go on to live very separate lives, with no real rancor.

But when circumstances bring together estranged family members, all of the emotion can also come up to the surface. And that can add tension to a reunion. It can add quite a bit of tension to a crime novel, too. And it raises the question: is blood thicker, as the saying goes? Can people who’ve been estranged work together? It makes for an interesting and sometimes suspenseful sub-plot or thread through a story.

Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot’s Christmas (AKA Murder for Christmas and A Holiday For Murder) bring together the various members of the Lee family. Patriarch Simeon Lee has always been both malicious and tyrannical, but he is also very wealthy. And, when he decides to gather his family at the family home for Christmas, no-one dares refuse the invitation. So, his sons, David and George, together with their wives, Hilda and Magdalene, make the trip. Another son, Alfred, already lives at the family home with his wife, Lydia. And Lee’s son Harry, who’s been estranged from the family for years, is also invited. There’ve been several estrangements in the family, actually. For one, David has always blamed his father for his mother’s poor health and eventual death. For another, Alfred sees Harry as a selfish cadger who’s never taken his share of responsibility for the family business. Harry sees Alfred as a ‘stick in the mud’ who’s far too quick to toady to their father. All of this bad feeling comes to the fore when the various family members get together. And, when Simeon Lee is murdered on Christmas Eve, matters get even worse. Hercule Poirot is staying in the area with a friend, and he works to find out who killed the victim. As he gets to know the various family members, we see how this estrangement plays its role in the way the different family members interact.

John Alexander Graham’s The Involvement of Arnold Wechsler introduces readers to Classics professor Arnold Wechsler, who works at a small Massachusetts school, Hewes College. The novel was published in 1971, a time of great change and, sometimes, student unrest, at many US colleges and universities. Hewes College is no different in that respect. Wechsler is aware of what’s going on, but he tries his best to stay out of it all, and simply do the best he can. That all changes when he is summoned to a meeting with Winthrop Dohrn, the college’s president. Dohrn is concerned because of Wechsler’s younger brother, David. It seems that David was a Hewes student until he dropped out of sight after joining a radical movement. Now he’s returned to campus, and Dohrn wants to know whether David is or will be involved in subversive activities. Wechsler is loath to spy on his brother. For one thing, they’re quite different, and they’ve been estranged for some time. They really don’t have much to say to each other. For another thing, Weschler really does want to stay out of politics. But he can’t really refuse the college president. So, reluctantly, he contacts his brother. The two are very awkward with each other, and that estrangement makes for quite a lot of tension. It’s ramped up when there’s a bombing, a kidnapping, and a theft. Is David involved? If he’s not, can his brother trust him to help find out who is?

Lawrence Block’s The Sins of the Father is the first novel to feature his PI sleuth, Matthew Scudder. At this point, Scudder isn’t a formally licensed PI. Rather, he informally looks into things when friends and acquaintances need his help. One day, he gets a visit from successful executive Cale Hanniford, who has an unusual sort of request. Hanniford’s twenty-four-year-old daughter, Wendy, has recently been murdered. The police have arrested her twenty-one-year-old roommate, Richard Vanderpoel, for the crime, and there’s plenty of evidence against him. What’s interesting is that Hanniford doesn’t want Scudder to solve the murder. He believes that Vanderpoel is the killer. Rather, he wants Scudder to find out what sort of person Wendy had become, and what led to her death. It turns out that he’d been estranged from his daughter for years. It’s too late now for a reconcilement, but he’s hoping to at least learn more about her. Scudder’s not sure how much help he can be, but he agrees to at least ask some questions. He arranges to interview Vanderpoel in prison, but the young man is too dazed, or drugged, to be very informative. Then, not long afterwards, Vanderpoel commits suicide. Now it’s clear that this case is more complicated than Scudder thought, and he’s no longer sure the police got their man in the first place.

Former journalist Robert Dell, whom we meet in Roger Smith’s Dust Devils, has a wife and two children whom he loves, and a life that seems to be going well. It all changes one terrible day when he and his family are taking a drive just outside of Cape Town. His car is ambushed and goes over an embankment, and Dell is the only survivor. As if that’s not devastating enough, the police soon accuse him of engineering the accident, and he’s thrown into prison for murder. In fact, it’s very likely he’ll be executed after a ‘kangaroo court’ hearing. It’s clear that he’s being framed, but he doesn’t know why or by whom. Unbeknownst to Dell, his father, Bobby Goodbread, has found out what’s going on. He and his son have been estranged for a long time, mostly because of their diametrically opposed viewpoints on apartheid. It hasn’t helped matters that Dell married a woman who wasn’t white, and that Goodbread has been linked with several reactionary pro-apartheid groups. Nonetheless, Goodbread engineers his son’s escape from prison, and the two go into hiding. For different reasons, they’re each going after the man who killed Dell’s family. The rift between them makes for a lot of tension and awkwardness, but they manage to work together as they head towards the village where the killer lives.

And then there’s Dorothy Fowler’s What Remains Behind. In that novel, archaeologist Chloe Davis, her business partner, Bill, and some of their archaeology students travel to Kaipara Harbour, on New Zealand’s North Island. They’ve been contracted to excavate the remains of religious community that was burned down in the mid-1880s. The excavation is required before the land can be sold for development, so there’s a lot of pressure for the team to do their work quickly. For Davis, there’s a great deal of other pressure, too. For one thing, her cousin Shane is a member of the development consortium, and wants to move as quickly as possible to get the new construction done. For another, her sister Phaedra, from whom she’s been estranged for many years, has title to a house and piece of land that’s critical to the consortium’s plan. And she’s not willing to move. So, as the dig team is uncovering the truth about the religious group, Davis is also having to deal with the tense and difficult reunion with her sister and cousin, as well as with the rift between the branches of her family. And it turns out that what happened to the religious community has repercussions even now.

Estrangements can happen in just about any family. They aren’t always violent, but they’re often very difficult. And they can add a great deal of suspense, to say nothing of character development, to a novel.

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Eastmountainsouth’s Father. 

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Dorothy Fowler, John Alexander Graham, Lawrence Block, Roger Smith

In The Spotlight: John Alexander Graham’s Something in the Air

Hello, All,

Welcome to another edition of In The Spotlight. It’s always interesting to see which novels ‘catch fire’ and remain popular for a long time, and which don’t. Interestingly, it’s not always a book’s quality that determines whether it stays on best-seller lists. To show you what I mean, let’s turn today’s spotlight on John Alexander Graham’s Something in the Air, one of only a few crime-fictional standalones Graham wrote.

As the story begins, Professor Jacob ‘Jake’ Landau is getting ready to board a morning flight from Boston to New York. With him is his friend and attorney, Martin Ross. Ross has been handling the details of Landau’s divorce from his ex-wife, Kitty, and the two are exhausted from the process.

Shortly before the flight takes off, a man steals a suitcase belonging to one of the passengers. He tries to escape the airport, but he’s shot and killed by police. The flight ends up taking off, though, and before long, approaches New York. Then, suddenly, a bomb goes off. Six people are killed, including Ross. Landau is injured, but survives.

Landau knows he’s not a police detective; but, since a flight he was on was attacked, he wants to know why and by whom. At first, he doesn’t get very far. The airline officials Landau contacts do almost nothing to help, only giving carefully-scripted, noncommittal answers. That’s not enough to satisfy Landau, and he starts looking more deeply for the truth.

He gets help from Samuel Schwann, a reporter from the New York Pennon. That magazine has a style,
 
‘…like that of Grade Z Fiction.’
 

But Landau has to start somewhere. So, he grants Schwann an interview, and the two start to help each other.

In the meantime, the police believe they know the truth about the bombing.  It comes out that the man who planted the bomb – a man named Varga – was also the man who stole the suitcase before the flight took off. So, as far as the authorities go, there’s no more need for investigation. They got their man and he’s dead. And they don’t appreciate Landau’s insistence that there was more to this than one crazed bomber.

What’s more, a dangerous criminal group has gotten wind of Landau’s interest in the bombing, and they’re not any happier than the police are. Soon enough, Landau finds himself their target. If he’s going to stay alive, he’s going to get to the truth before he becomes a victim. Finally, and after two more deaths, Landau finds out why the plane was attacked, and why his friend was killed.

This novel was published in 1970, so readers get a look at what air travel was like at that time. In today’s world of very tight security and other airline realities, it would be hard to imagine some of the events that happen. But the sequence is more realistic within the context of the time it was written.

We also see the times reflected in the ways in which Landau goes about trying to find out who killed his friend and the other victims on the plane. This novel takes place in the days before the Internet, social media and easy access to computers. So Landau does his share of telephoning, newspaper checks, and so on.

This is a crime novel in the sense that there are murders, there’s an investigation, and so on. But it’s also got a touch of the thriller. There’s the ‘everyman drawn into something big’ plot line. There’s also the danger and suspense as Landau goes up against a crime syndicate. And there are several characters who don’t turn out to be as they seem. I can say without spoiling the story that there’s also a very tense and dramatic showdown at New York’s Grand Central Station.

The story is told in third person, past tense, mostly from Landau’s point of view. So, we learn quite a bit about him. He lives alone since his divorce, and has been trying to put his life back together. He does his share of introspection, but he doesn’t wallow. He has his share of faults, and he makes mistakes. But he’s bright, and he is committed getting some sort of justice for his friend.

This isn’t a whodunit sort of crime novel, where the sleuth finally unmasks the villain late in the story. In fact, it doesn’t take a very long time for Landau to establish that the bombing and the deaths are the work of a drugs-trafficking crime syndicate. The suspense comes, instead, as he works out how this group is connected with the passengers, and why they would have targeted that particular flight. There’s also suspense as Landau tries to stay one step ahead of the people who have targeted him. Each reader has a different view of what counts as ‘too much’ suspension of disbelief, but readers who dislike that aspect of some thrillers will notice that there’s a bit of it here.

Something in the Air is a crime novel with touches of the thriller, that takes place mostly in New York and Boston, and offers readers a look at life in 1970, especially when it comes to air travel. It features an ‘everyman’ thrust into a dangerous situation, and gets much of its suspense from the ‘cat and mouse game’ between the sleuth and the crime syndicate that’s marked him. But what’s your view? Have you read Something in the Air? If you have, what elements do you see in it?

 
 
 

Coming Up On In The Spotlight

 

Monday, 17 April/Tuesday, 18 April – A Jarful of Angels – Babs Horton

Monday, 24 April/Tuesday, 25 April – Wife of the Gods – Kwei Quartey

Monday, 1 May/Tuesday, 2 May – Can Anybody Help Me? – Sinéad Crowley

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Filed under John Alexander Graham, Something in the AIr

Taken Away and Held For Ransom*

1932-lindbergh-baby-poster-630x1103As this is posted, it’s 85 years since Charles Lindbergh, Jr., aged 20 months, was kidnapped. He was, as you’ll know, found dead. During the investigation, the case made world headlines. Bruno Richard Hauptmann was convicted and executed for the murders, but he protested his innocence all along. And many people agreed with him. There’ve been several books and articles pointing to other leads the police didn’t follow, other possible explanations, and so on.

Whatever the real truth about the Lindbergh kidnapping, it had a profound impact on the news, on society, and on crime fiction. There are many books that feature a plot where a child is captured for ransom; here are just a few.

One that was directly inspired by the Lindbergh case is Agatha Christie’s Murder on the Orient Express. In that novel, American businessman Samuel Edward Ratchett is on board the famous Orient Express train, en route across Europe. On the second night of the journey, he is stabbed to death. Hercule Poirot is on the same train, and he’s prevailed upon to find the killer as soon as possible, so that the culprit can be handed over to the police at the next border. Poirot interviews all of the possible suspects, and uses that information, plus other clues he finds, to discover who killed Ratchett. As it turns out, this murder is related to a tragic case from several years earlier. Three-year-old Daisy Armstrong was kidnapped from her home, and later found dead. Saying more would get too close to spoiling the story for my taste, but that incident does play an important role in the novel.

Ross Macdonald’s The Far Side of the Dollar begins at an exclusive Southern California boarding school called Laguna Perdida. Its purpose is to serve ‘troubled’ students. Dr. Sponti, head of the school, has called in PI Lew Archer because one of the pupils, seventeen-year-old Tom Hillman, has gone missing. The boy’s parents are wealthy and well-connected, and Sponti doesn’t relish the thought of having to tell them that their son has disappeared. Archer agrees to see what he can do to find the boy. He and Sponti are still discussing the matter when Tom’s father, Ralph, rushes into to Sponti’s office. He says that Tom has been abducted, and that there’s been a ransom demand. Archer goes back to the Hillman home with Ralph, and tries to help. But soon enough, Archer gets the sense that there’s more going on here than a simple demand for ransom from a wealthy family. For one thing, why are the Hillmans so reluctant to give Archer a lot of information about Tom? And why does it seem that Tom may actually be with his captors (if that’s the right word) of his own will? It’s a much more complex case than Archer thinks at first.

John Alexander Graham’s The Involvement of Arnold Wechsler takes place mostly on the campus of Hewes College, in Massachusetts. The novel was published in 1971, so there’s lots of student activism and unrest on campus. Wechsler is a professor in the Classics Department, and is much more concerned about doing the best job that he can than he is about wading into the growing divide between students and faculty on campus. He’s drawn into the controversy, though, when the university’s president, Winthrop Dohrn, summons him to a meeting. It seems that Wechsler’s brother, David, may be involved in some of the radical activities on campus. Dohrn wants Wechsler to contact his brother and find out whether he’s involved in any of the subversive activity. Wechsler wants to keep his job, so he can’t very well refuse the president. And it’s not long before he thinks the president may be right. That becomes even clearer when Dohrn’s granddaughter, Nancy, is kidnapped, and a note bearing David’s signature is sent to Dohrn. Then, Dohrn himself is killed. David, though, claims he’s not responsible for the abduction or the other events. Now, the Wechsler brothers have to work together to find out who’s behind everything.

The first in Bill Pronzini’s ‘Nameless’ PI series is The Snatch. In it, wealthy Louis Martinetti hires Nameless for a very specific task. He tells Nameless that his son, Gary, has been abducted, and that the kidnappers are demanding three hundred thousand dollars in ransom. They have also insisted that one, and only one, person go to the drop site to leave the money. The next day, Nameless goes to the appointed place to do just that, when everything goes wrong. Martinetti wants him to take one course of action; other family members want him to do something else. In the meantime, Nameless is trying to make sense of everything, and develop his own plans. In the end, we learn what happened to Gary, and what it all means for the different characters.

And then there’s Edney Silvestre’s Happiness is Easy. Wealthy São Paolo businessman Olavo Bettancourt has what seems like the perfect life. He has money, ‘clout,’ a beautiful ‘trophy wife,’ Mara, and a healthy young son, Olavinho. But things are not nearly as perfect as they seem. He’s involved in several questionable deals. They’ve made him very wealthy and seemingly powerful, but he’s no less trapped for that. Then, a gang of criminals decides to kidnap Olavinho. Their thinking is that the boy’s father will pay any amount he’s told to get his son back. Plans are made and everything is set. But, by mistake, the culprits get the wrong boy. Instead of Olavinhio, they abduct the mute son of the Bettancourts’ cook/housekeeper. Now, the abductors have to decide what to do with the boy they have, and with their grand scheme. And Bettancourt has to decide what to tell the police and the media. The stakes are high, and both sides work frantically to deal with the matter.

There are, as I say, a lot of other crime novels in which young people are taken for ransom. That plot point can add real suspense to a story. And, when it’s done well, readers get a sense of the desperation families can feel when such a thing happens.

 

The ‘photo is of the ‘wanted’ poster circulated when the Lindberghs’ son was abducted. Thanks, Crime Museum!

 

 

 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Tom Petty’s Refugee.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Bill Pronzini, Edney Silvestre, John Alexander Graham, Ross Macdonald

I Was Running For the Door*

Creepy PlacesI was reading an excellent review by Bernadette at Reactions to Reading, when I was struck by a comment she made about the setting of Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None. As you’ll see if you read her review (which you should!), the post itself wasn’t about that novel. It wasn’t even, really, about setting. But in the course of it, Bernadette mentioned that,
 

‘Insular settings can provide a powerful sense of place in their own right (I’m still having nightmares about the house in Dame Christie’s And Then There Were None) …’
 

She’s right. Settings such as that house can add a great deal to the tension in a story. In this particular novel, knowing that the people on the island can’t escape makes the story that much eerier. So I can see how that house would stay with a reader.

There are plenty of other crime-fictional novels, too, where we see the impact of the insular setting. Here are just a few that have stayed with me. I know you’ll have your own selection.

In Christianna Brand’s Green For Danger, Inspector Cockrill travels to Heron Park Hospital, which has been converted for wartime (WWII) military use. Local postman Joseph Higgins has died, apparently a tragic, but accidental, death on the operating table. But Higgins’ widow insists that he was murdered. Cockrill starts asking questions, particularly of the seven people most closely associated with Higgins during his hospital stay. He soon learns that this case isn’t at all as it seemed on the surface. As he starts to home in on the killer, he insists that all of his suspects stay together as much as possible. That, plus the fact that two people end up dead in the same operating theatre, makes the hospital a really insular setting that gets creepier and creepier as the story goes on – at least for me. There’s something about that sort of setting, isn’t there, fans of Ngaio Marsh’s The Nursing Home Murder?

In John Alexander Graham’s Something in the Air, Columbia University Professor of Law Jake Landau is on a flight from Boston to New York when a bomb goes off (this novel was written before today’s careful screening of passengers). Landau’s friend and attorney Martin Ross is killed in the tragedy, and of course, Landau wants answers. But the airline people aren’t very forthcoming. And, since he’s not a police officer, neither is anyone else, including the police who are investigating the incident. So Landau starts asking questions on his own. His questions get too close for comfort for the powerful international drugs ring that’s connected to this bombing, so they target Landau. Without giving away spoilers, I can say that there’s a really memorable scene at New York’s Grand Central Station that’s stayed in my mind. As it is, the station has a long history (it was built about 1871). It’s large, with lots of different passageways and so on. It can feel very creepy, and Graham takes advantage of that.

P.D. James’ Death of an Expert Witness has as its focus Hoggatt’s Laboratory in East Anglia. It’s a private forensic laboratory that performs different sorts of tests in cases of unnatural death. As such, it’s used by both sides when a murder case is tried in court. One night, Dr. Edwin Lorrimer, one of the senior staff at the laboratory, is working late on a recently-opened case when he is bludgeoned. Commander Adam Dalgliesh is assigned to the investigation. One thing he and DI John Massingham quickly learn is that Lorrimer had very strict security procedures, especially after normal working hours. So it’s unlikely that anyone ‘on the outside’ could be the killer. That leaves Lorrimer’s colleagues and subordinates, and that’s a wide field. Lorrimer was much disliked, and for good reason. As Dalgliesh and Massingham look into the matter, the lab itself comes under plenty of scrutiny (how many entrances, where are the windows, etc.). It takes on a sort of eerie personality of its own, especially at night.

There’s also Dennis Lehane’s Shutter Island. In that novel, U.S. Marshal Teddy Daniels travels to Ashecliffe Hospital for the Criminally Insane, which is located on Shutter Island, in Massachusetts’ Outer Harbor. With him is his assistant, Chuck Aule. They’re there because one of the patients, Rachel Solando, has escaped, and is loose somewhere on the island. She’s a dangerous person, and that alone is reason enough to want to find her. But as Daniels and Aule soon discover, there’s much more at stake here than just one escaped prisoner, and all sorts of things are going on in the ward from whence she escaped. Then a storm comes up, which makes the investigation even more difficult. Throughout the story (and the film, if you saw it), the hospital compound is depicted in a very eerie way. It’s a former wartime hospital, converted for postwar use. It’s old and, since it’s on an island, it’s isolated. And there’s the fact that it’s psychiatric facility for the most dangerous of criminals. It’s the sort of place that stays with many readers. And so does the island.

Of course, I couldn’t do a post on eerie, insular places without mentioning the Bates Motel, vividly depicted in Alfred Hitchock’s Psycho. The medium Hitchcock used to tell the story is especially effective at evoking that isolated, creepy place. It’s definitely not a welcoming stop for the night. I know, I know, fans of Daphne du Maurier’s Jamaica Inn

Bernadette’s right about some places in crime novels. They really can be insular, eerie, and frightening. And that can make them stay with the reader long after the novel’s finished.

 

 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from The Eagles’ Hotel California.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Alfred Hitchcock, Christianna Brand, Daphne du Maurier, Dennis Lehane, John Alexander Graham, Ngaio Marsh, P.D. James

Friday Night Arrives Without a Suitcase*

LuggageAny sort of travel involves luggage. Whether it’s a small ‘weekend’ size bag, or the largest suitcase an airline allows, luggage reflects a lot about the person who owns it. For instance, some people pack very neatly…and some don’t. And people tend to pack things in a certain way, even given today’s tight restrictions on what passengers may bring aboard a flight.

And then there’s the matter of how much you pack. Some people pack very heavily, and bring everything that they might need. It means they have to check luggage and get it wherever they’re going, but it also means they’re prepared for a lot of eventualities. Others pack very light. That’s the way I am. I only bring exactly what I need, and I don’t check my luggage through – ever. That’s got its advantages and disadvantages, and it does raise some eyebrows. If you’ll indulge me, here’s one example. I recently returned from a (roughly) week-long trip to New Zealand. When I returned, I went through Customs and Immigration at Los Angeles.  After having my passport stamped, etc., I started to leave the secured area, since all I had brought was one small pilot-sized suitcase and my handbag. One of the security people came over to me and we had this conversation:
 

Security Officer: ‘Can I help you?’
Me: ‘Oh, no, thanks. I’m all done the process – just leaving.’
Security Officer: ‘But you have to get your checked luggage from the carousel, and that has to go through security, too.’
Me: ‘Thanks – I don’t have any checked luggage.’
Security Officer Looking at my suitcase and handbag: ‘Are you sure? Because if you do, you’re going to have to get it and send it through security.’
Me: ‘No, this is all I have.’

 

The security officer was doing her job, and doing it courteously, but she must have wondered at a person who spends a week in another country and has so little luggage.

There are good reasons to be very careful about luggage. Don’t believe me? All you have to do is read some crime fiction. There are a lot of examples of luggage that turns out to contain all sorts of things.

For instance, in Agatha Christie’s Murder on the Orient Express, Hercule Poirot is on board the famous Orient Express on a three-day trip through Europe. On the second night, Samuel Ratchett, one of the other passengers, is stabbed. At the request of Poirot’s friend M. Bouc, who is a director of the company that owns the train, he agrees to investigate. The idea is for him to find out who the killer is before the train reaches the next border, so that he can hand the murderer over to the police. At one point, it’s deemed appropriate to do a search of the passenger’s luggage, and it’s quite surprising what turns up in two particular suitcases…

In John Alexander Graham’s Something in the Air, Professor Jake Landau is on a plane from Boston to New York with his friend and attorney Martin Ross. They’ve been working through the details of Landau’s divorce from his wife, and both are tired just from that process. All of that’s forgotten when a bomb goes off in the plane. Six passengers are killed, including Ross. Landau survives, and decides to try to find out who killed his friend. The only problem is, he’s stymied right from the beginning by airline policy and FBI security regulations. But Landau persists, and finds out that the bombing is related to a powerful and far-reaching drugs ring. And how did the bomb get on the airplane? In a suitcase that’s later stolen by the bomber just before he is killed, too. As an aside, this novel was published in 1970, long before today’s luggage screening protocols. Crime writers who write contemporary crime novels would find it difficult to re-create that sort of scenario.

Megan Abbott’s historical novel Bury Me Deep is the story of Marion Seeley, whose doctor husband Everett has to leave the country when his cocaine habit costs him his medical license. He sees that his wife is set up in an apartment in Phoenix, with a clerical job at the prestigious Werden Clinic. At first, all goes well enough. Marion settles in and forms friendships with a Werden nurse, Louise Mercer, and Louise’s roommate Ginny Hoyt. Before she knows it, Marion is drawn into their world of parties, drugs, and dubious ‘friends.’ As she slips closer and closer to the edge, Marion gets more deeply involved in that world. It all leads to tragedy for those involved. Interestingly enough, this novel is loosely based on the 1933 case of Winnie Ruth Judd, who was accused of killing two of her friends. The bodies were later discovered in trunks that Judd took with her to Los Angeles after the murders…

In Lene Kaaberbøl and Agnete Friis’ The Boy in the Suitcase, we are introduced to Copenhagen Red Cross nurse Nina Borg. One day she gets a call from her friend Karin Kongsted. She wants Nina to go to the train station and pick up a suitcase that’s waiting in one of the lockers. She seems upset about the suitcase, but won’t tell Nina what’s wrong, nor why she needs the suitcase. Nina agrees to get the luggage and goes to the train station. To her shock, she finds that the suitcase contains a three-year-old boy. He’s drugged and dazed, but he is alive. Immediately she tries to reach Karin, but she can’t make contact. In the meantime, Sigita Ramoškienė, a young Lithuanian mother, faces every parent’s worst nightmare when her three-year-old son Mikas goes missing. The police aren’t very helpful; in fact, they suspect her of having something to do with Mikas’ disappearance. So she determines to find out on her own what happened to him. The trail leads her to Copenhagen, and it’s not long before we learn that the three-year-old boy that Nina Borg found is, in fact, Mikas. Now, each in her own way, Sigita and Nina work to find out who abducted Mikas and why. In the end, and after a brutal murder, they discover the truth.

And then there’s Elly Griffiths’ The Zig Zag Girl. It’s 1950, and magician Max Mephisto is on the circuit with other magicians, fortune-tellers, and other carnival people. He’s called in to help when the body of a young woman is found at Brighton’s Left Luggage Department. The body has been cut up in what DI Edgar Stephens thinks is a macabre re-enactment of one of Mehpisto’s illusions. So he’s hoping Mephisto will have some insight into who might be responsible for the murder.

Of course, luggage doesn’t always contain such horrible things as bodies and bombs. For instance, in Anthony Bidulka’s Aloha Candy Hearts, Saskatoon PI Russell Quant is visiting his partner Alex Canyon in Hawai’i. He’s at the airport, preparing for the return to Canada, when he meets an enigmatic stranger who turns out to be archivist Walter Angel. Angel slips a cryptic message, a lot like a treasure map, into Quant’s hand luggage before Quant boards his flight. Shortly afterwards, Angel is murdered. Quant follows up on the clue he was given, and connects the killing to some dark secrets right in his own Saskatchewan.

You see what I mean about luggage? You’ll want to be very careful about yours, and don’t leave it unattended…

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from The Beatles’ Lady Madonna.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Agnete Friis, Anthony Bidulka, Elly Griffiths, John Alexander Graham, Lene Kaaberbøl, Megan Abbott