Category Archives: Max Kinnings

Just Put the Phone Down*

Mobile VulnerabilityLook around you for a moment. My guess is that there’s a good chance that you’re only a few feet (at most) away from…your telephone. Of course, today’s telephones do a whole lot more than just let people make calls wherever they are. For instance, mine lets me keep up with the blogs I read, make comments, engage with my online students, take photographs, read the news, do Internet research, and get just about wherever I want to go without getting lost. And mine isn’t a particularly upmarket model.

A lot of people will say they’ve come to really depend on their telephones. But just as many people think of them as, at best, mixed blessings. For one thing, telephones can be awfully intrusive. When colleagues and others can reach you at any time, they frequently do just that. And it can be very difficult to avoid (or break) the habit of checking email or texting instead of being more tuned in to wherever you are.

Telephones can make a person vulnerable, too. Just think of all the private information that may be on yours. There are other ways as well in which telephones can be used against a person. And that’s just why they can also be interesting parts of crime novels.

In Stefan Tegenfalk’s Project Nirvana, for example, Stockholm County police detectives Walter Gröhn and Jonna de Brugge get involved in an international investigation when the German police seek Sweden’s help in solving the murders of four German scientists. There’s reason to believe that Swedish national Leo Brageler is the killer, but there seems no motive. The German authorities are hoping that the Swedish National Bureau of Investigation can help them link Brageler to the scientists. There are other possibilities as to the killer, though, and Gröhn and his team want to explore those too. At one point in the novel, de Brugge has followed a lead to one particular possible suspect, and finds out almost too late that her telephone has made her vulnerable. I can’t say more than that without giving away too much, but I can say that it’s not one of those ‘didn’t bring telephone with me and am all alone’ sort of situations.

In Peter James’ Not Dead Yet, Brighton and Hove Superintendent Roy Grace is working on the strange murder case of a man whose torso was found in an abandoned chicken coop. He’s also been assigned to help protect international superstar Gaia Lafayette during her upcoming stay in Brighton, where she’s making a film. Along with everything else, he’s concerned that someone in his department might be leaking details of some of the team’s investigations. So, he’s advised to have the High Tech team look at his Blackberry to see if someone’s gotten access to some of the information there. That plot thread shows how someone might hack a mobile device. It also shows how vulnerable privileged information can be.

Another police investigation is compromised in Kazuhiro Kiuchi’s Shield of Straw. In that novel, SP (Special Police) officer Kazuki Mekari of the Tokyo Municipal Police Department (MPD) gets a very difficult assignment. He is told to take a team to Fukuoka and escort a prisoner back to Tokyo. But this is no ordinary prisoner. This is Kunihide Kiyomaru, who is responsible for raping and killing the granddaughter of wealthy business magnate Takaoki Ninagawa. And Ninagawa has taken the unusual step of offering a very public billion-yen reward to anyone who kills Kiyomaru. Mekari and his team go to Fukuoka, collect their prisoner, and begin the journey back to Tokyo. But they soon run into trouble. Wherever they go, it seems that news of their presence gets there first, and they have to contend with crowds of people, many of whom are eager to claim the reward money. Despite spur-of-the-moment changes of plans, they don’t seem to be able to break free of the many people who are trying to kill Kiyomaru. Someone keeps publishing detailed live GPS information about their whereabouts. It’s a scary reminder of how easy it can be to get that sort of data and misuse it.

In Sinéad Crowley’s Can Anybody Help Me? we are introduced to new mum Yvonne Mulhern. She’s recently moved from London to Dublin with her husband, Gerry, so that he can take advantage of a good career opportunity. Yvonne loves her husband, but he’s gone much of the time, and she’s overwhelmed by the demands a new baby makes. In need of support and company, she turns to an online forum called Netmammy, a group of other new mothers. Yvonne finds great solace in the online group. There’s even a very telling scene in which she’s at a real-life party with her husband, but uses her ‘phone to access the site. And she’s not the only member who’s that drawn to the group. Then, one of the members seems to disappear, and Yvonne gets concerned. Then, the body of a woman is discovered in an empty apartment. Sgt. Claire Boyle and her team investigate, and try to trace the victim’s last days and weeks. The woman’s profile (age and so on) is very similar to Yvonne Mulhern’s missing online friend. Is it the same woman? And if so, what might this mean for the other members of Netmammy? This novel points out, among other things, just how much information we reveal online without always knowing it. And it shows how much a person can find out by picking up a telephone.  

There’s also Max Kinnings’ Baptism, in which criminals make use of a mobile ‘phone. London Underground driver George Wakeman is getting ready for work one morning when his home is invaded by three hostage-takers. They take his wife and children prisoner, and give him a mobile ‘phone. Then they tell him to go to his job and follow every instruction he is given. With no other choice, Wakeman does as the hostage-takers say, and drives to his job. Using the number of the telephone they’ve given him, the criminals direct Wakeman to begin his route as normal, so he gets into the cab of his train and starts the route. The hostage-takers board the train, too, and it pulls out from the station. After a time, Wakeman is ordered to stop in a tunnel. Soon enough, Wakeman learns why he has been targeted. The team wants to take his entire train (with about 400 passengers) hostage. DCI Ed Mallory, an experienced negotiator, is assigned to the case to see if he can find out what these people want and whether he can free the passengers before it’s too late.

See what I mean? Of course today’s telephones are incredibly useful. But sometimes, they’re more dangerous than you know. Oh, wait! Excuse me, please, I just got an email and I really need to check it…


*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Buzzcocks’ Phone.


Filed under Kazuhiro Kiuchi, Max Kinnings, Peter James, Sinéad Crowley, Stefan Tegenfalk

He Started Something With His First “Hello, Hello”*

TelephoneAs I post this, today would have been Alexander Graham Bell’s 169th birthday. It’s not really an overstatement to say that the telephone, the invention with which he’s most closely associated, created a communications revolution. Today, we take for granted the ability to reach into a pocket or handbag, get our telephones, and call anyone we want. Modern telephones do even more. You can make hotel reservations, buy airline tickets, check into your flight, rent a car, and get a cab to the airport within a few moments, all with a telephone.

Telephones are crucial for police investigations, too, and they have been since long before you could take ‘photos with them. There was a time when houses had one telephone, with possibly an extension in another room. That meant few conversations were as private as one might have hoped.

That lack of privacy figures into Agatha Christie’s After the Funeral (AKA Funerals are Fatal). When family patriarch Richard Abernethie suddenly dies, the rest of his family gathers for his funeral and the reading of his will. At that gathering, Abernethie’s younger sister Cora Lansquenet says that he was murdered. Everyone discounts the idea, and she herself tells the group not to pay any attention to her. But secretly, everyone begins to wonder. Any doubts are put to rest when Cora herself is killed the next day. Family lawyer Mr. Entwhistle asks Hercule Poirot to investigate, and Poirot agrees. At one point, one character remembers something that turns out to be an important clue. That character makes a telephone call to report that memory, but unfortunately, the wrong person overhears…

In Erle Stanley Gardner’s The Case of the Velvet Claw, Perry Mason gets a new client who calls herself Eva Griffin. She tells him she’s being blackmailed by tabloid reporter Frank Locke, who threatens to publish her relationship with up-and-coming politician Harrison Burke in Spicy Bits unless she pays him well. Being married to someone else, she knows this might ruin her lover’s career, and will certainly ruin her own reputation.  Mason agrees to take the case, and begins to communicate with Locke. He soon concludes that there’s more to this story than it seems. So he follows Locke to a nearby hotel, where he arranges with the hotel’s switchboard operator to trace a call that Locke makes. That information gives Mason the lead he needs to find out who’s set his client up for blackmail and why. At first it seems that this might be the end of the case. But that turns out not to be so, when Eva’s husband is shot and she becomes the prime suspect. Now Mason has to defend his client, even though he’s discovered that not much of what she says is the truth.

Qiu Xiaolong’s Death of a Red Heroine takes place in 1990’s Shanghai, where many people use public telephones. When the body of national model worker Guang Hongying is discovered in a nearby canal, Chief Inspector Chen Cao and his assistant, Sergeant Yu Guangming are assigned to investigate. It’s a very delicate matter, because the victim was a sort of national role model – a celebrity in her own way. It takes time and patience, but the two detectives do rack down the killer. And part of the way they do that is by tracing a call that links the victim to the murderer.

Today, of course, many, many people have their own telephones. Those can be treasure troves of information, since lots of people store contact numbers, addresses, photographs, and lots more in their telephones. So those who don’t want to have their calls traced often use pay-as-you-go telephones. That’s what happens in Gene Kerrigan’s The Rage. In one plot thread of that novel, DS Bob Tidey and Garda Rose Chyney investigate the execution-style murder of dubious Dublin banker Emmet Sweetman. His killers are not exactly legitimate business contacts, so they did business with Sweetman through a pay-as-you-go ‘phone. Tidey and Cheney are lucky enough to find that telephone, and are able to link the killers to their victim. Incidentally, in another plot thread of the same novel, Vincent Naylor, his brother Noel, and some friends plot the robbery of a van belonging to Protectica, a company that transports cash among banks and firms. They pull off the heist by holding the driver’s wife hostage and sending pictures that prove she’s in danger.

They aren’t the only criminals who use telephones in that way, either. In Max Kinnings’ Baptism, three hostage-takers break into the home of London Underground train driver George Wakeham. They take his wife and children hostage, and order him to do as they tell him. He’s to go to his job as usual, and follow every instruction he is given by the hostage-takers. They then give him a special mobile ‘phone that he’s to keep with him at all times. With no other option, Wakeham does as he’s told, goes to his job, and takes his seat in the driver’s cab of his train. The hostage-takers board it shortly afterwards. And it’s not long before Wakeham understands that these people want to capture the entire train, with all 400-plus passengers. Hostage negotiator DCI Ed Mallory is assigned to try to find out what the hostage-takers want, so he has to establish communication with them, too. By telephone.

There are a lot of other examples, too, of the way police use telephones to get information about victims, suspects and more. And it’s not hard to see why. People do leave a lot of information on their telephones, sometimes more than is judicious. Just ask Martin Edwards’ DCI Hannah Scarlett. In The Serpent Pool, she and her Cold Case Review Team re-open the six-year-old murder of Bethany Friend. It turns out that that killing is tied to two more recent deaths. Oxford historian Daniel Kind is working on some research about Thomas de Quincey, and it turns out that his work is very useful to the cases Scarlett is investigating. One day, she goes out, forgetting her mobile ‘phone at home. When her partner, book dealer Marc Amos finds the telephone, he can’t resist the urge to check her messages. He’s been feeling unsettled about their relationship, and his worst fears seem to be coming true when he sees a text from Kind. That incident doesn’t solve the case, but it plays its role. And it shows just how much information a person can get from a telephone.

Telephones may drive us to the brink sometimes. What with robo-calls, people who have loud, public conversations, and so on, they can seem to do more harm than good. And modern telephones make it harder than ever to actually get away for a break. But where would we be without them?



*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Sweet’s Alexander Graham Bell.


Filed under Agatha Christie, Erle Stanley Gardner, Gene Kerrigan, Martin Edwards, Max Kinnings, Qiu Xiaolong

You’re Saying I’m Fragile*

FragileOne of the ways that authors keep the reader’s interest is by developing characters in sometimes unexpected ways. For example, a character may seem quite fragile on the surface, but as the story evolves, we learn that the character has strengths that we didn’t realise. There’s always a risk with that, of course, because a character who seems to change too abruptly or who acts too much ‘out of character’ isn’t believable. But discovering hidden strength under surface-level fragility can make a character all the more interesting.

In Agatha Christie’s The Murder on the Links for instance, Hercule Poirot receives an urgent letter from Paul Renauld, an ex-pat Canadian who now lives in France. Renauld’s letter refers to threats on his life, and he makes it clear that he wants Poirot to come to France immediately. Poirot and Hastings go to the small  town of Merlinville-sur-Mer, but by the time they get there it’s too late. Renauld has been stabbed and his body found on a golf course being built near the villa where he lived. As you might expect, the police and Poirot interview people who might have seen something or who might have known the victim. So one of their stops is the villa nearest the Renauld home. In that villa lives Marthe Daubreuil, who is the fiancée of Renauld’s son Jack. When they first meet her, Marthe seems fragile and vulnerable. Poirot even calls her


‘…a girl with anxious eyes.’


But as the story evolves and we learn more about her, we find that Marthe has quite a lot of strength in her.

In Barbara Vine’s (AKA Ruth Rendell) The Minotaur, Kerstin Kvist accepts a position as a private nurse at Lydstep Old Hall, the home of the Cosway family. She’s hoping that the move from her native Sweden to England will allow her to spend more time with her lover Mark Douglas. Her job at the Cosway’s home will be the care of thirty-nine-year-old John Cosway, who is said to be schizophrenic. Kvist settles into her job, but soon finds that this is no ordinary family. For one thing, the family seems to live and behave as though it were still the Victorian Era. For another, John Cosway is kept heavily medicated on orders from his mother, the family matriarch. After a short time Kvist begins to suspect that the heavy medication is detrimental to her patient so without telling anyone, she begins to withhold it. That decision has tragic consequences that she couldn’t have imagined. As the novel evolves and Kvist gets to know her patient, so does the reader. And although he seems very fragile on the surface – he is a mental patient after all – we learn that there are depths and strengths to his character. He turns out to be quite surprising in his way.

In Shona (S.G.) MacLean’s The Redemption of Alexander Seaton, we meet grammar school undermaster Alexander Seaton, a former candidate for the pulpit who left the ministry under a cloud of scandal. Since that time, Seaton has tried to stay ‘under the radar,’ taking on a humble job and trying to stay out of trouble. In many ways he’s quite fragile, although not physically so. Then his good friend Charles Thom is accused of murdering local apothecary’s assistant Patrick Davidson. Thom claims he’s innocent and begs Seaton to clear his name. Seaton agrees and starts to ask questions about the murder. Bit by bit he’s drawn more and more into the investigation. And, trite as it may sound, that process requires him to find strength within himself that he didn’t know he had.

Karin Fossum’s Calling Out For You (AKA The Indian Bride) introduces us to Gunder Jormann, who lives in the small Norwegian town of Elvestad. He’s not the world’s quickest thinker, but he’s a steady worker and has never been in trouble. His sister Marie has always looked after him and in that sense he seems fragile on the surface. Then he decides to do something no-one expected. He decides he would like to get married. He’s no longer a young man, but he’s still in decent physical shape and he has a steady income, so he doesn’t think his marital prospects are hopeless. As if that weren’t surprising enough, he decides to go to Mumbai to find a wife. At first, Marie is against the idea. But when she sees that her brother is determined, she reminds him of all of the details that are involved in international travel. Things start to change when Jormann actually gets to Mumbai. There, he surprises even himself by his ability to get used to being in a totally different environment. He’s successful at finding a wife, too. She is Poona Bai, whom Jormann met when he started going to the restaurant where she works. Within a short time, he has persuaded Poona to marry him and move to Norway. She has to finish up the details of her life in India, so Jormann goes back to Elvestad first, with the understanding that his bride will follow him. On the day of her arrival though, Jormann’s sister is involved in a terrible auto accident and he can’t leave her side. So he asks a friend to meet Poona at the airport. When the two miss each other, Poona continues on towards Elvestad, but never makes it to Jormann’s home. When her body is later discovered in a field near Elvestad, Inspector Konrad Sejer and his assistant Jacob Skarre investigate. Throughout the novel it’s interesting to see the solid strength of Jormann’s character show beneath his superficial fragility.

Max Kinnings’ Baptism is the story of George Wakeham, a London Underground driver for the Northern Line. He’s by no means weak-willed, but in some ways he’s quite fragile. He’s always wanted to do something creative with his life – something that would have a lasting impact. But although he was part of a band and tried writing as well, he hasn’t felt he succeeded. In that sense he’s quite insecure. Still, he has a stable marriage, two healthy children and a steady job. Then one morning, three people invade his home and take his family as prisoners. They tell Wakeham that if his family is to live, he must do exactly as they say. They give him a special mobile ‘phone which they will use to instruct him, and tell him to report for work as usual, making sure to do everything he is told. With no other option, Wakeham goes to his duty station and takes his place in the cab of his train. The hostage-takers board the train as well, with his family in tow. Then, in the middle of a tunnel, he is ordered to stop the train. Now Wakeham learns to his horror why he was targeted and what the hostage-takers want. In the meantime, DCI Ed Mallory and his team have been alerted to the hostage situation. Mallory is an experienced negotiator, so he tries to work with the hostage-takers to find out exactly what they want. Meanwhile Wakeham works to keep himself and his family alive, and to try his best to protect the 400 passengers on the train. In that process we see that he has a lot of strength that he didn’t know he had.

Fourteen-year-old Durga Atwal is the central focus in Kishwar Desai’s Witness the Night. Durga has been temporarily placed in a prison because she is under suspicion for having committed multiple murders. One night, thirteen members of her family were poisoned. Some were stabbed as well, and the house was burnt. Durga has survived, but she won’t talk about that night. It looks very much as though she somehow ‘snapped’ and is guilty of the crimes. However, there are clues that instead, she was bound and raped, so she may be a victim herself. The only way to find out what really happened is to get Durga to talk, so social worker Simran Singh is asked to travel from her home in Delhi to the Punjab town of Jullundar to help. Simran knows the town well, since she was brought up there, and it is hoped that she’ll be able to break through Durga’s ‘wall of silence.’ Slowly and piece by piece, Simran finds out about the Atwal family, about Durga’s life there, and about some very dark secrets that the well-to-do family had hidden. As the novel evolves, we see that although Durga seems quite fragile on the surface (and in some ways, she really is), she is actually much stronger and more resilient than it seems.

When characters seem one way on the surface, but turn out to have different sorts of depths to them, this can make them all the more interesting. And that’s part of what keeps readers turning and clicking pages. This post only gives me enough space to mention a few examples of fragile characters who turn out not to be so fragile. Your turn.


*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Stevie Nicks’ Leather and Lace.


Filed under Agatha Christie, Barbara Vine, Karin Fossum, Kishwar Desai, Max Kinnings, Ruth Rendell, Shona MacLean

The Alphabet in Crime Fiction: Locomotives

railroadsThe Crime Fiction Alphabet meme tour is rolling along down the tracks to our next station. Today we’ve reached the twelfth stop on our terrifying tour, the historic old town of Lville. Thanks as ever to our tour guide Kerrie at Mysteries in Paradise for such a terrific itinerary. This Old West town was built around a railroad stop and we’re all looking forward to exploring the General Store, the Saloon and lots more. Right now though everyone’s unpacking and changing into jeans and boots, so while they do, let me offer my contribution for this week: locomotives.

We may think of locomotives and the trains they’re attached to as very useful forms of transportation and really, they are. But the fact is, trains are dangerous. They’re large and fast and it’s all too easy to fall (or be pushed) off the platform beneath them. But for a murderer, using a train to help a victim into the next world can be quick and efficient. A hard shove onto the tracks and that’s all it takes. And sometimes, you don’t even need the locomotive itself to do the job.

For example, in Agatha Christie’s The Man in the Brown Suit, we meet Anne Beddingfeld, who’s recently lost her beloved father. Alone in the world and with nothing in particular keeping her in London, Anne is eager for adventure. She gets a lot more than she bargained for one day when she happens to be at an underground station. To her horror a man falls from the platform onto a live track. He’s pulled off the rails but is almost immediately pronounced dead. Anne is upset at what she’s witnessed, but she is curious about a piece of paper that was in the dead man’s pocket and has fallen to the ground. The paper turns out to specify the sailing date of the Kilmorden Castle, bound for Cape Town. Unable to resist the lure of adventure, Anne books passage on the ship and soon finds herself mixed up in a case of stolen gems, murder and a mysterious crime leader called The Colonel.

Charlotte MacLeod’s The Withdrawing Room begins when Sarah Kelling turns her family’s Boston brownstone into a boarding house. She’s recently been widowed and this is the best way for her to make ends meet, but she decides to be very particular about the boarders she admits. Soon enough, she has a group of suitable boarders and prepares to open for business. One of the new residents is Barnwell ‘Barney’ Augustus Quiffen, who turns out to be thoroughly annoying. He’s demanding, complains about everything and makes life difficult for everyone, including Sarah Kelling. What’s worse, he’s nosey and judgemental. Ten one day Quiffen is killed in what seems to be a horrible accident when he apparently falls under a subway train. No-one is exactly mourning Quiffen’s death, but the next morning, a homeless woman calling herself Mary Smith visits the boarding house and tells Sarah that she saw someone push Quiffen under the train. Sarah has to become involved in the investigation now, as the police begin to suspect that someone there may have murdered the victim.

Emma Bowles comes far too close for comfort to the business end of a locomotive in Ed McBain’s Kiss. She’s waiting on a platform for an uptown train when a strange man shoves her off the platform and onto the tracks. She manages – barely – to scrabble her way back onto the platform just before an oncoming train arrives but it’s a near miss. Then she narrowly avoids being killed in a hit-and-run incident. It’s now clear that someone has targeted Emma Bowles. Her husband Martin hires a private investigator Andrew Darrow to protect her and find out who’s trying to kill her. Then, there’s a murder and when the body is discovered, Detective Steve Carella and his team connect the victim with the Bowles case.

In Kerry Greenwood’s Murder on the Ballarat Train, Phyrne Fisher and her companion Dot Williams take a train journey to Ballarat. Late one night they along with the other passengers are overcome with chloroform. Phryne breaks out a window and the chloroform dissipates, but there’s worse to come. It’s discovered that fellow passenger Anne Henderson is missing. Her body is later discovered near the tracks and it’s clear that she was thrown from the train. The other passengers were drugged to prevent their interfering. Anne’s daughter Eunice asks Phryne to find the killer, but it turns out to be not as simple a case as it appears on the surface.

A locomotive turns out to be very dangerous in Max Kinnings’ Baptism. George Wakeham is a driver for the Northern Line of the London Underground. One morning he’s preparing to leave for work when three intruders break in, seizing his wife and children. Wakeham’s only chance of keeping his family alive is to follow exactly the instructions he is given. The intruders give him a mobile ‘phone for receiving their instructions and when he arrives at work, they order him to proceed to the cab of his train and start driving. The hostage-takers also board the train with Wakeham’s family and their leader joins Wakeham in the cab. When the train, which now has over 400 passengers, enters a tunnel, Wakeham is suddenly ordered to stop. Wakeham soon learns to his horror why the hostage-takers chose him and what their plans for the train are. Now he’ll have to try to do his best to keep his passengers alive. In the meantime, hostage negotiator DCI Ed Mallory is assigned to try to find out what the abductors want and salvage the situation if he can.

Katherine Howell’s Web of Deceit begins when paramedics Jane Koutofides and Alex Churchill are called to the scene of a motor accident. The driver, Marko Meixner, is unhurt but the two paramedics insist on taking him to hospital for an evaluation. Meixner warns them that he’s in danger and they will be too if they spend any time with him. At first they think his reaction is because he has psychological problems; in fact, they want him to have a psych evaluation. But Meixner leaves the hospital abruptly. Later that same day, he is pushed from a train platform and killed by an oncoming train. Detectives Ella Marconi and Murray Shakespeare are called to the scene of the death and begin their investigation. As it turns out, Meixner had every reason to be afraid for his life.

So you see? Locomotives power trains, which is a good thing. They also can power murder – not such a good thing. Now, how about we take a walk over to the old railroad station? There’s a lovely view from the platform… 😉


Filed under Agatha Christie, Charlotte MacLeod, Ed McBain, Katherine Howell, Kerry Greenwood, Max Kinnings

And in the Middle of Negotiations You Break Down*

NegotiationsIf you think about it, just about every relationship we have involves at least some negotiation. It can be as simple as ‘What should we do about dinner?’ or as complex as, ‘Under what terms will your country establish a treaty with ours?’ A lot of people associate negotiation with adversarial relationships and of course sometimes that happens. But negotiation isn’t always bitter and angry. It’s really just the search for common ground. Negotiation is an important part of communication and it certainly plays a role in real-life and crime-fictional investigations. There’s negotiation among different agencies involved. There’s negotiation in an investigation team to determine who will do what and which direction the investigation will take. And when it comes to prosecution of crime there’s a great deal of negotiation among the opposing counsels and the judge or equivalent and that’s just scratching the proverbial surface of legal negotiation. We see this quite a lot in crime fiction, so I couldn’t possibly mention all of the examples of it in this post. I know I’ll be leaving a lot out, so do add your own examples.

We see a few different kinds of negotiation in Agatha Christie’s The ABC Murders. In that novel, Hercule Poirot works with Scotland Yard and local police to solve a series of murders that look like the work of a psychopath. That co-operation in itself involves negotiation in terms of who actually follows up on what and who will be involved in which part of the investigation. The killings begin with the murder of an elderly shopkeeper/newsagent. Her husband is the most likely suspect but Poirot received a cryptic warning before the killing that’s unlikely the work of the chief suspect. The police are just getting to work on that murder when Poirot receives another letter. Then there’s another death. And a third. At one point, Franklin Clarke, brother of the third victim, suggests that a group of friends and relations – ‘interested parties’ – of all three murder victims work together to try to come up with a strategy to catch the killer or at least a clue as to who that person is. In the conversations the group has, we see them negotiate what is important and what isn’t, and what should be done. Those conversations turn out to be very useful to Poirot as he eventually ties the murders together and finds out who the killer is.

In Peter Robinson’s Gallows View, we meet DI Alan Banks, who in this novel has recently moved to the Yorkshire town of Eastvale. He’s arrived in time to face some unpleasant situations. First, there’s been a series of house-breakings that have many of the residents worried. Also a voyeur has been making the lives of several of Eastvale’s women miserable and frightening. Then there’s a murder. As Banks and his team work to find out what’s behind all of these incidents, we see a lot of negotiation going on. For instance, Banks is in charge of the investigation so technically he’s the one who should direct it. However, he’s an ‘incomer,’ having recently moved from London. He knows that the locals don’t entirely trust him and he knows that he doesn’t know the histories of the people in the area. For that he has to depend on his second-in-command Sergeant Hatchley, who’s a local. So the direction the investigation takes involves negotiation between the two. It’s not always peaceful but it’s productive. As another thread in this story, local feminist Dorothy Wycombe has made a very public set of complaints that the police are sexist and are not doing all they can to catch the voyeur. Banks knows that to dismiss her entirely will lead to a media furor he doesn’t need. Besides, he agrees that the peeping is wrong and must be stopped. On the other hand, it’s clear that she doesn’t have a real appreciation for the time, money and staff required to do what she wants done. Working matters out with her (and they never exactly do become friends) takes a lot of negotiation.

Stefan Tegenfalk’s Project Nirvana begins with the deaths of four German scientists. German police authorities believe that Swedish national Leo Brageler may be involved in the deaths, but there isn’t a clear motive. So they request help from the Swedish National Bureau of Investigation (NBI). The NBI works with police detectives Walter Gröhn and Jonna de Brugge of Stockholm County CID and their team to track down Brageler and get some answers. All of this communication among law-enforcement entities involves quite a lot of negotiation. There’s the question of who gets access to what information, who does exactly what and who has jurisdiction. Then matters get even more complicated. Brageler and another possible suspect (also a Swedish national) disappear. And, the Swedish Security Service (SÄPO) starts to take a serious interest in the case. Then there’s a frightening hostage situation – another instance in which negotiation plays a major role. All of these events are related, and they’re tied to something much bigger than someone killing a few scientists.

And of course, hostage negotiation is a very important thread running through other crime fiction too. In fact, it’s a major part of Max Kinning’s Baptism. London Underground train driver George Wakeham is a former musician and writer who always wanted to make a real impact on society. That hasn’t happened though and he’s currently driving for the Northern Line. One morning his predictable life is shattered when three strangers invade his home and capture his wife and children. His family’s only chance, so Wakeham is told, is to do exactly as the hostage-takers say. He’s given a mobile ‘phone and told to go to his job as usual and follow all instructions as they are telephoned to him. Wakeham does so and soon finds out what the people who’ve taken his family want. They want to capture everyone on his train – about 400 people – and they need his driving skills to get the train into the tunnel where they intend to trap everyone aboard it. DCI Ed Mallory, who is a skilled hostage negotiator, is called in to find out exactly why the hostage-takers have captured these people and what exactly they want. Part of the tension in this novel comes from the interactions among Mallory, Wakeham and Tommy Denning, who’s leading the hostage-takers. Another source of tension in this novel is the negotiation between Mallory, who has one view of what ought to be done, and his superiors, who have another. In the end, that negotiation is part of what leads to the way Mallory and his team deal with this crisis.

And then there’s the negotiation that PI Jayne Keeney conducts in Angela Savage’s Behind the Night Bazaar. Keeney lives and works in Bangkok, but travels north to Chiang Mai to visit her friend Didier ‘Didi’ de Montpasse. Then de Montpasse’s partner Nou is murdered. Shortly afterwards de Montpasse himself is shot. The official report is that de Montpasse killed his partner and then violently resisted arrest when the police came to confront him with the evidence. Keeney is certain that’s not true though and begins to look into the matter. She soon learns that these two murders are tied in with a truly ugly case of corruption, child trafficking and the Thai sex trade. Keeney knows that she can’t stop the corruption and sex trade single-handedly, much as she would like to. The one thing she does want though is for de Montpasse’s name to be cleared. He wasn’t a murderer and she wants that to be made public. Once she finds out the real truth behind the murders, she feels she’s in a position to negotiate. I don’t think it’s giving away spoilers to say that her exchanges with the people who are on ‘the other side of the table’ in this case show how negotiation works in the real world.

You’ll notice that I haven’t mentioned the many fine legal mysteries and thrillers that involve negotiation among parties. That’s in part because there are so many of them; that would be a post in and of itself. But I do want to at least mention that negotiation is a critical part of these novels, as it is in real-life legal cases.

Most of know that almost any interaction with another person involves at least a little negotiation. Sometimes it’s low-stakes; sometimes it’s high-stakes. Always it’s interesting and it can add a solid level of tension to a crime novel.



*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from the Beatles’ You Never Give Me Your Money.


Filed under Agatha Christie, Angela Savage, Max Kinnings, Peter Robinson, Stefan Tegenfalk