Category Archives: Peter Robinson

Ancient Minds, Ancient Lives*

relicsAs this is posted, it’s the 94th anniversary of Howard Carter’s discovery of King Tutankhamen’s tomb. That find taught us much about what life must have been like during Tutankhamen’s time, and that’s such an important aspect of archaeology. Whenever there’s a find, it’s not just the actual objects that matter. It’s also the windows they offer on life in a very different era. That, too, is fascinating.

We see that aspect of archaeology in quite a lot of crime fiction, and that’s not surprising. Finding out what life was like at another time is a sort of mystery in itself, so it makes sense that we’d see that theme in the genre. And that’s not to mention the monetary value of such discoveries, which can be considerable.

There are plenty of examples in crime fiction, too. For instance, fans of Agatha Christie will know that her second husband was an archaeologist, and that she accompanied him to the Middle East. The theme runs through a few of her stories, too, such as Murder in Mesopotamia. In that novel, Hercule Poirot investigates the murder of Louise Leidner, who is killed one afternoon in her room. She has accompanied her husband, noted archaeologist Eric Leidner, on a dig a few hours from Baghdad, and all the members of the excavation team come under suspicion. At one point, there’s a discussion of the value of what the team finds. It comes out that Dr. Leidner is a lot more interested in pottery and other daily-use objects than in gold. And it’s only partly because he has to pay the workers much more if they find gold. As much as anything, it’s because pottery and other such objects really show what life was like.

In Peter Robinson’s A Dedicated Man, we are introduced to archaeologist Harry Steadman. He’s a professor at Leeds University, until an inheritance frees him to do what he wants. And what he wants is to excavate Roman ruins in Yorkshire. He goes through the process of getting the necessary permissions, hoping that he will make some noteworthy finds. But instead, he is killed by blunt force trauma. DCI Alan Banks and his team investigate, and find several leads. For one thing, there are those who didn’t want the victim doing any digging. For another, there are the inevitable academic politics at Leeds. And those aren’t the only possibilities. It’s a complex case, and as Banks works through it, he learns that Steadman wasn’t in it, as they say, for the money. He was genuinely fascinated by what he might learn about life in Roman Britain.

Fans of Elly Griffiths’ Ruth Galloway will know that she is a forensic archaeologist associated with North Norfolk University. In The Crossing Places, the first of this series, she is asked to lend her expertise when a set of remains is discovered. DCI Harry Nelson suspects that the bones may belong to Lucy Downey, who disappeared ten years earlier, and he wants confirmation of his theory. But Galloway can’t provide that. The bones turn out to be much, much older than ten years. In fact, they belong to an Iron Age child. In one plot thread of this novel, that find spurs Galloway to arrange for an excavation in the place where the bones were found. She’s hoping to learn more about the people who lived in the area at that time. Even small things such as a bead bracelet can provide fascinating information, so it’s no wonder she’s eager to dig. Those Iron Age remains don’t really solve the Lucy Downey case. But they do give a perspective on the search to find out about life in different times.

We also see that in Kate Ellis’ series featuring DS (later, DI) Wesley Peterson and his friend, Neil Watson. Watson is an archaeologist who, in The Merchant House, has discovered a four-hundred-year-old home that originally belonged to a wealthy merchant named John Banized, and his wife, Elizabeth. The dig team has only six weeks to learn what they can from the place, because the area is set to be developed as a block of new residences. In the process of their excavation, Watson’s team unearths a pair of skeletons in the basement of the house. As they wait to get forensic information, Watson searches for a diary that Banized kept. He’s learned that it was passed on from generation to generation. So, if he can find a modern-day descendent of the family, he may learn much about life during Banized’s era. That story unfolds as Peterson also investigates a modern-day mystery – the murder of a young woman.

There’s also Steve Robinson’s Jefferson Tayte mysteries. Tayte is a genealogist, so his stock in trade is tracing families’ lineage. And as he does, he often finds letters and other everyday objects that throw light on the past. That’s what happens, for instance, in In The Blood. He’s hired by wealthy businessman Walter Sloane to trace his wife’s lineage as a gift for her. The trail leads to Cornwall, and Tayte gets the ‘green light’ to go there and follow up on the leads he’s found. He finds that Sloane’s wife has modern-day distant kin in England, but they don’t seem eager at all to help him put the pieces of the puzzle together. In the meantime, we meet Amy Fallon, whose husband Gabriel was lost two years earlier in a storm. Just before he died, he told Amy that he’d found out a secret. He never got the chance to tell her what that secret was, but construction on their house has revealed it. There’s a hidden set of steps that leads down to secret basement. In the basement is a very old, carved, wooden writing box with a love letter in it. Fallon tries to find out who might have owned the box, and her trail leads her to Tayte. Each in a different way, they find out the truth about things that happened hundreds of years earlier, just from an everyday writing box.

There are even thrillers, such as Robin Cook’s Acceptable Risk, that involve excavations. In that novel, neuroscientist Edward Armstrong is hired by a breakout biotechnology company called Genetrix. The goal is for him to develop a new anti-depression medication. He meets and falls in love with a nurse, Kimberly Stewart, whose family owns a house that’s several hundred years old. In the process of renovating the house, she discovers ergot growing in the old basement. That discovery provides answers to some bizarre questions haunting her family. And it opens up real possibilities for Armstrong’s research. But it also has frightening consequences.

There’s just something about discovering very old objects. They give a window on what life was like during a particular time. And they add to our knowledge. Little wonder there’s so much interest in them.

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Elton John’s You Can Make History (Young Again).

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Elly Griffiths, Kate Ellis, Peter Robinson, Robin Cook, Steve Robinson

Making Mischief Used to Make My Day*

mischief‘I didn’t mean any real harm.’ ‘We were only having a bit of fun.’ I’m sure you’ve heard things like this when people make mischief. And sometimes mischief is really just that: a relatively harmless prank that’s no more than annoying. You might even laugh about it (much) later. But sometimes mischief gets out of control. And when that happens, there can be real consequences.

Mischief can be an interesting plot thread in a mystery novel. It can show a little bit about characters, or even be used to misdirect in a whodunit sort of story. Once in a while it can provide some comic relief, too, depending on the sort of mischief it is. In whatever way the author uses mischief-making, it can add a layer to a story.

In Agatha Christie’s Five Little Pigs, Carla Lemarchant hires Hercule Poirot to investigate the sixteen-year-old murder by poison of her father, famous painter Amyas Crale. At the time, everyone thought the killer was Crale’s wife (and Carla’s mother) Caroline. She had plenty of motive, and there was enough evidence to convict her. She died in prison a year later, but Carla has always believed her mother was innocent. Poirot agrees to take the case, and interviews the five people who were present at the time of the murder. He also gets each person’s written account of the murder, and of the days leading up to it. One of those people is Carla’s aunt (and Caroline’s half-sister), Angela Warren, who lived with the Crales. At the time of the murder, she was fifteen years old, and about to be sent away to boarding school. She had an ongoing conflict with Crale about that and other things, and wasn’t above playing tricks on him. Among those tricks was putting things into his drinks. In one case, she put valerian (which has a very unpleasant taste) into his beer. And that habit makes her a possible suspect…

Peter Robinson’s Gallows View introduces readers to DCI Alan Banks. In this novel, he and his family have recently moved to the small Yorkshire town of Eastvale. And they’re not long there before Banks has to face several challenges. One of them is a voyeur who’s making life miserable for the local women. Another is a series of home invasions. Then there’s a murder. Mixed up in some of this is Trevor Sharp, a young teenager who doesn’t really fit in in school. When he gets involved with textbook-case juvenile delinquent Mick Webster, trouble soon begins. What starts out as just having some fun goes very, very wrong.

In Louise Penny’s Still Life, Chief Inspector Armand Gamache of the Sûreté du Québec is assigned to investigate the death of Jane Neal. She is a beloved former teacher who lives in the small Québec town of Three Pines. Early one Thanksgiving morning, she’s killed in what looks like a terrible hunting accident. But Gamache comes to wonder whether her death really was an accident, and begins to look into the case. As he does, he and his team get to know her background and her relationships with the other residents of Three Pines. That’s how they learn about one incident in particular. It seems that three local boys had recently played a cruel prank on bistro/B&B owners Olivier Brulé and his partner Gabriel Dubeau. Jane saw what happened and called out two of the boys by name. They might have only been making some mischief, but the incident puts them squarely in the spotlight when it comes to motives for murder.

Karin Fossum’s When the Devil Holds the Candle features Andreas Winthur and his best (really, only) friend Sivert ‘Zipp’ Skorpe. They’re not really by nature cruel or malicious. What they are is bored young people looking for some fun. One day, they’re spending time together as they usually do. As the day goes on, what starts out as ‘just some fun’ turns out very differently. At the end of it, Andreas disappears. His mother, Runi, gets concerned when he doesn’t come home, and goes to the police about it. But Oslo police detective Konrad Sejer isn’t overly worried. When more time passes, though, he begins to think something might have happened to Andreas, and looks into the matter more closely. Soon enough, he meets Zipp and asks him about what happened on that fateful day. But Zipp says as little as possible. It’s not spoiling the story to say that Zipp hasn’t killed Andreas. But he certainly knows more than he tells Sejer, at least at first. And as the story goes on, we see how far a little mischief can end up going…

Of course, not all mischief turns out so horribly. Fans of Alan Bradley’s historical (1950s) series featuring Flavia de Luce can tell you that she isn’t above making mischief. Flavia is the youngest of three sisters. Suffice it to say that the three of them certainly have their conflicts. Flavia’s two older sisters, Ophelia ‘Feely’ and Daphne ‘Daffy,’ consider her a nuisance at best, and sometimes play some very mean tricks on her. But Flavia isn’t without her resources. She’s a very skilled chemist, and uses that to her advantage. For instance, in The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie, she schemes to tamper with a lipstick belonging to one of her sisters. She distils the irritant in poison ivy, and puts it on the lipstick, hoping to make her sister miserable. And that bit of mischief has its own consequences.

Most mischief does, though. Playing what seems like a harmless prank can end up in laughter. But it can also have serious consequences. But don’t take my word for it. Crime fiction’ll show you.

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Super Furry Animals’ Bad Behaviour.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Alan Bradley, Karin Fossum, Louise Penny, Peter Robinson

Waiting For Life to Start*

restlessAs adults, we learn that life isn’t a series of exciting events all in a row. In fact, a lot of us are sustained by the regular routines of our lives. But very often, young people don’t have that perspective. There’s a sense among some young people of waiting for, well, they’re not entirely sure what. But they know they’re waiting for something to happen. Perhaps you remember that same restlessness from your own past.

That sense of waiting can make a person bored and restless. And when that happens it leaves one open to a lot of things that seem new and different, even exciting, at the time, but can quickly become dangerous. So it’s little wonder that we see that plot point, or that sort of character, in crime fiction.

In Peter Robinson’s Gallows View, for instance, we meet Trever Sharp. He’s a bright enough young person, but he’s bored and restless, living in the small Yorkshire town of Eastvale. He doesn’t quite fit in with the other boys at school, and he’s had brushes with the law. Fortunately, he’s been smart enough to steer clear of real trouble. Then he starts spending time with Mick Webster, who is, by nearly anyone’s definition, a juvenile delinquent. Trevor’s father warns him to have nothing to do with Mick, but Trevor is aimless and Mick is interesting and ‘cool.’ DI Alan Banks, who is introduced in this novel, encounters Trevor in the course of investigating a series of break-ins, a peeper who’s making the lives of Eastvale’s women miserable, and a murder. As the novel goes on, we see just how dangerous that restlessness can be.

Pascal Garnier’s How’s the Pain? introduces readers to twenty-one-year-old Bernard Ferrand. He’s aimless, bored, and at loose ends. What’s more, he doesn’t have a particular skill or passion, so there’s nothing, really, that interests him. But he does have a driving license. And that’s just what ageing contract killer Simon Marechall needs. He’s nearly at the end of his career, and wants to do one more job before he leaves it. The idea is that Ferrand will drive him to the French coast, where Marechall will take care of his last piece of business. Ferrand agrees; after all, what else is there for him to do? But he doesn’t know, at first, what his new boss’ business is. And by the time he finds out, things have already been set in motion. If you’ve read Garnier, you know that this trip is not going to go well…

In Karin Fossum’s When the Devil Holds the Candle, Oslo Inspector Konrad Sejer and his assistant, Jacob Skarre, investigate a strange disappearance. Andreas Winther hasn’t been seen in a few days. His mother Runi gets concerned and visits Sejer. At first, Sejer isn’t sure there’s any cause for worry; there are many reasons why a young man might take off for a few days without telling his mother where he is. But as more time goes by, Sejer begins to get concerned, too, and looks into the matter. He learns that Andreas and his best friend Sivert ‘Zipp’ Skorpe are both rather aimless young men, waiting for something interesting to happen. They do everything together, and it’s very likely that Zipp knows something about what happened to his friend. Sejer becomes even more convinced that Zipp knows more than he’s saying when he interviews him. But Zipp refuses to help. It takes all of Sejer’s skill to find out what, exactly, happened to Andreas and why. And the novel shows what can happen when people have a sense of waiting for something to start their lives.

We see that same sense of waiting and restlessness in Julia Spencer-Fleming’s In the Bleak Midwinter. That novel begins when a newborn is found at St. Alban’s (Episcopal) Church in the small town of Miller’s Kill, New York. Not long afterwards, the baby’s biological mother, Katie McWhorter, is found dead in the nearby river. Police Chief Russ Van Alstyne investigates the murder. Meanwhile, Clare Fergusson, who serves as St. Alban’s priest (and, who, incidentally, found the infant), works with Van Alstyne, as she feels a personal sense of responsibility to the people involved. As they look into the case, they interview Katie’s friends and her boyfriend, Ethan Stoner. We learn that many of these young people drink, take drugs, etc. in part because there’s not much for them in Miller’s Kill. They’re restless and bored, and there aren’t many jobs available. That sense of waiting for something isn’t the reason Katie is killed. But it is a part of these young people’s lives.

In Megan Abbott’s Dare Me, high school cheerleaders Addy Hanlon and Beth Cassidy are in their last year. They’re in charge of the school, as the saying goes, and waiting for their lives to start. Then, a new cheerleading coach, Collette French, is hired. From the beginning, the cheerleading squad is drawn to her, and she makes of the group a sort of special club. Addy, like the others, is a part of that club. But Beth is on the outside looking in, as the saying goes. Everything changes when there’s a suicide (or, perhaps, it wasn’t a suicide). And as the characters deal with what’s happened, we see where feeling a little aimless and restless can eventually lead.

We see that in Emma Cline’s The Girls, too. It’s 1969, and fourteen-year-old Evie Boyd is waiting for something – anything – to happen in her world. She’s bored and aimless, and not sure what comes next. Then, she meets a group of girls in a park and feels drawn to them, especially to a young woman named Suzanne. That’s how she gets involved with a charismatic man named Russell, who seems to have these young women under his spell. Before she knows it, Evie is drawn into this world, and towards some very dark and dangerous places. And it all starts because she’s restless and waiting for whatever comes next.

That’s not unusual for young people (and sometimes people who aren’t so young!). Restlessness does happen, and it can add a layer of tension and character development to a crime novel.

 

In Memoriam

charmian-carr

This post is dedicated to the memory of Charmian Carr, who brought that feeling to life in Robert Wise’s film version of Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II’s The Sound of Music.

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Richard Rodger’s and Oscar Hammerstein II’s Sixteen Going on Seventeen (Reprise).

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Filed under Emma Cline, Julia Spencer-Fleming, Karin Fossum, Megan Abbott, Pascal Garnier, Peter Robinson

Parents, Teachers, They’re Making Sure I Do as I’m Told*

Home and SchoolIn just a matter of weeks, students everywhere will be back in school for the autumn or spring term. And that means that teachers and parents will be negotiating that delicate and very important home/school relationship.

The home/school dynamic is culturally contextual, as most things are. Parents and teachers play different roles, depending on the way the culture values formal education. The dynamic’s also affected by factors such as socioeconomic class, education level of the parents, and the like. But no matter what form the home/school relationship takes, it plays a role in a family’s (and teacher’s) life. And it can add character depth and more to a novel.

Agatha Christie’s Cat Among the Pigeons, for instance, takes place mostly at Meadowbank, an exclusive girls’ school. The story opens on the first day of summer term. It’s a day full of activity, with parents arriving throughout the afternoon to bring their daughters to school. Headmistress Honoria Bulstrode and her second-in-command Eleanor Vansittart have their hands full meeting all of the parents, getting the students settled in, and ensuring that everything runs smoothly. It’s busy, but it seems much like the first day of any term. Not long after the beginning of the term, Grace Springer, the new games mistress, is shot in the Sports Pavilion. Then there’s a kidnapping. And another murder. Soon the school is embroiled in a very complex case. There’s one important clue to the case that comes up on that first day, when the teachers are interacting with the parents. But it’s such a busy time that it’s missed…at first. Throughout this novel, there are all sorts of interesting (and sometimes funny) interactions with families. It’s a reminder that there are some things about the home/school dynamic that haven’t changed much in the decades since the novel was written…

In one plot thread of Peter Robinson’s Gallows View, DCI Alan Banks and his team investigate a worrisome series of home invasions, one of which ends in a murder. One important ‘person of interest’ in this case is local teenager Trevor Sharp. He’s an aimless sort of teen who manages to stay clear of the worst sort of trouble but, as is so often said, he doesn’t live up to his potential. Banks decides to visit his school to get more information about the boy. When he does so, he gets some insight into the relationship between Trevor’s home (he’s being raised by a single father) and his school. Mr. Price, Trevor’s form master, has been in contact with Trevor’s father Graham, and says that the father shares his concerns about the boy. Without spoiling the story, I can say that in some ways, Graham Sharp’s reaction is a lot like other parents’ reactions when they’re told their children are struggling or heading for trouble. No-one wants to believe that such a thing is happening, and teachers everywhere can tell stories of trying to work with parents who are not able or willing to accept the truth about their children.

Timothy Hallinan’s The Queen of Patpong gives the reader insights and background on one of the main characters in this series. The protagonist of these novels is ex-pat American travel writer Philip ‘Poke’ Rafferty. He’s made a new life for himself in Bangkok, and shares it with his wife Rose, a former bar girl who now owns her own cleaning company. In the course of this novel, we learn more about Rose’s history. One thread of that history involves an interaction between her teacher, Teacher Suttikul, and her father. One day the teacher visits her home to have a discussion with her father. Teacher Suttikul is hoping to persuade Rose’s father to allow her to stay in school and get a scholarship, rather than leave school and get work:
 

‘‘You know, you have a very smart daughter.’
‘So what?’ her father says… ‘She’s a girl.’
‘There are lots of good jobs for girls these days. She’ll earn plenty of money if she stays in school.’
‘What good does that do anybody? If she makes any money, it’ll go to her husband’s parents, not us.’
… ‘She’ll always take care of you. And I know she can get a good job. Someday she – ’
‘Someday,’ her father says heavily, as though the words are in a foreign language. ‘Someday. My children need food now. The roof needs to be fixed before the next rain comes. We need money now.’’
 

This conversation shows at a gut level what happens when teachers and parents have very different priorities and values, and different urgent needs.

There’s also a difficult home/school dynamic in Paddy Richardson’s Swimming in the Dark. Ilse Klein is a secondary school teacher in the town of Alexandra, on New Zealand’s South Island. One of her most promising students is fifteen-year-old Serena Freeman. She’s engaged and interested, and shows real academic potential – the kind of student teachers everywhere love. Then things begin to change. Ilse notices that Serena has stopped attending class regularly. When she is there, she no longer participates. Increasingly concerned, she tries to get Serena to tell her what’s wrong, but with no success. When her concerns deepen, Ilse lets the school’s counseling staff know – a normal thing to do under the circumstances. But when the counselor, Sally Davis, visits Serena’s family, things go wrong. Here’s what Serena’s mother Char says about it:
&nnbsp;

‘‘This teacher. This teacher, well, she thought she saw marks on Serena’s arm. You know, uh, bruises? So she told the counsellor at school. Sally Davis, her name is. She came around here –’’
 

Instead of sharing the school’s concerns and working with the staff, Serena’s mother does little to help, instead defending her live-in boyfriend Rob and trying to make as little of the matter as possible. But it’s not a small matter when Serena disappears. Among other things, this novel depicts the reality of trying to work with very dysfunctional families.

Of course, there are many home/school relationships that go much more smoothly. For example, in Priscilla Masters’ River Deep, we are introduced to Martha Gunn, coroner for Shrewsbury. The main plot of the novel concerns a murder that’s uncovered when the River Severn overflows its banks and flushes a dead man out of the basement of a home he doesn’t own. Gunn works with the police to uncover the truth and untangle what turns out to be a complicated investigation. In a sub-plot of this novel, she has another concern. Her twelve-year-old son Sam shows real promise as an athlete. In fact, the sports master Paul Grant believes that Sam could easily get a place at a football training school. He calls Gunn in to discuss the matter with her, and they actually have a very productive conversation. The dilemma for Gunn is this: on the one hand, Sam’s gift and passion should be nurtured. She agrees with that. On the other, even Grant agrees that the academic preparation at a football training school isn’t what it is in other schools. So Sam could be missing out on a university education. It’s an interesting look at how home and school can work together for big decisions such as this one.

It can be tricky for both teachers and parents to work with one another. But the research shows clearly (at least to me) that the home/school dynamic really does impact students’ lives. It’s an important part of family life, so it’s little wonder we see it in crime fiction, too.
 
 
 

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

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Paddy Richardson, Peter Robinson, Priscilla Masters, Timothy Hallinan

Closed the Shop, Sold the House, Bought a Ticket to the West Coast*

Midlife Crisis MaleTransitions through adulthood are often challenging. Adjusting to a new phase in one’s life can be stressful and people have all sorts of different kinds of reactions to that stress. That’s arguably part of the reason people sometimes have what’s often been called mid-life crises. An interesting post from Marina Sofia at Finding Time to Write has got me thinking about how often we see that crisis in fiction in general and crime fiction in particular.

Marina Sofia’s post dealt with male mid-life crises, so that’s what I’ll focus on in this post. But women are by no means immune; that’ll be the topic for another post soon. For now, here are just a few examples of what can happen at that pivotal point in adulthood.

In Agatha Christie’s The Hollow, we are introduced to Harley Street specialist Dr. John Christow. He has a thriving career, a wife Gerda who adores him, and two healthy children. By all accounts he should be completely contented with his life; most people would call him very successful. But he’s restless. His mind keeps drifting back to an affair he had fifteen years earlier with Veronica Cray, who’s since become a famous actress. He’s in this state of flux when he and Gerda are invited to spend the weekend at the home of Sir Henry and Lady Lucy Angkatell. To his shock, he is reunited with Veronica during the visit; it turns out that she’s taken a getaway cottage nearby. Because they have a history together, she becomes a suspect when he is shot on the Sunday afternoon. Hercule Poirot has also taken a cottage in the area, and he works with Inspector Grange to find out who killed John Christow and why.

Karin Alvtegen’s Betrayal is the story of Eva Wirenström-Berg and her husband Henrik. They’ve been married fifteen years and as far as Eva’s concerned, they’ve had a contented life. But lately, Henrik has been distant and obviously unhappy. He’s restless and seems to have built a proverbial wall between them. Eva is hoping that a holiday might help them re-discover each other but then, she learns to her shock that Henrik has been unfaithful. She’s devastated at this and soon becomes determined to find out who the other woman is. When she does, she plots her own kind of revenge that has consequences she couldn’t have imagined.

In Geoffrey McGeachin’s Fat, Fifty and F***ed, banker Martin Carter faces this kind of crisis. His marriage is ending, which would be bad enough. Then he finds out that he’s being retrenched. With all of the things that had identified him being taken away, he’s reaching out for something new anyway. So on his last day at work, he can’t resist helping himself to a million-dollar payroll. Then he makes his escape in a police-issue 4WD and takes off. His plan is to meet up with an old friend and start over, but things don’t work out that way. First, he meets Faith, a librarian who’s got her own problems. Then there’s the matter of the bike gang. And that’s just the beginning…

Jodi Brett and Todd Gilbert are a successful Chicago couple whom we meet in A.S.A. Harrison’s The Silent Wife. They’ve never formally married, but they’ve been together twenty years and have built a solid home. Then, everything changes. Todd’s feeling restless, and begins an affair with Natasha Kovacs, a college student and the daughter of his business partner. This isn’t the first time he’s strayed, but what makes this time different is that Natasha wants it to be a permanent relationship. She becomes pregnant and tells Todd that she wants to marry and be a family. At first, Todd promises her that’s what he wants too; he even leaves Jodi and moves in with Natasha. But as time goes on, he begins to see that he doesn’t want a wife and family. He feels ‘hemmed in’ enough as it is. Besides, the realities of living with a woman so much younger have set in. Then, Todd is murdered in a drive-by shooting. At first, it looks like a carjacking gone wrong. But then, the police begin to suspect that someone hired the shooters. And given Todd’s business and personal decisions, there’s no lack of suspects.

Sometimes sleuths go through mid-life crises too. That’s what happens in Peter Robinson’s Watching the Dark. In that novel, DCI Alan Banks is faced with the murder of DI Bill Quinn. Quinn was a patient at St. Peter’s Police Convalescence and Treatment Center, and that’s where his body is discovered early one morning, pierced with an arrow from a crossbow. The case turns out to be very delicate, because compromising ‘photos are found in Quinn’s room that suggest he’s been having an affair with a much younger woman. Obviously the police Powers That Be don’t want to cast aspersions on the badge, so Banks will have to tread lightly. In the meantime, he’s got his own personal issues to face. His former wife Sandra has married again and started a new family. He’s no longer involved with his lover Annie Cabbot, either, although they work together professionally. His children are grown and starting their own lives, too, and although they love him, it’s a different sort of relationship. So Banks is facing the sort of restlessness that often goes along with periods of change in life. It adds another layer to his character.

Fans of Andrea Camilleri’s Salvo Montalbano series will know that he’s at a point of flux in his life. He feels himself getting older, but at the same time, he still has plenty of energy and good detective skills. He’s torn about his relationship with his long-time lover Livia, too. He does care about her, but at the same time, he’s just as well pleased that she lives in Genoa, and not in Sicily. He also sees himself changing as he gets older, and that’s not always comfortable either. Camilleri depicts that internal conflict as a series of debates between ‘Montalbano One’ and ‘Montalbano Two,’ and it’s an interesting way to show the way the mid-life crisis can feel.

The changes that middle age brings aren’t always fun. The question, ‘Is this all there is?’ can hit hard. So can the recognition of one’s own mortality. People generally make their way through the transition intact, but not always. And it certainly can add character depth and plot points to a novel. Which ones have stayed with you?

Thanks, Marina Sofia, for the inspiration. Now, may I suggest your next blog stop be Finding Time to Write. It’s a treasure trove of book reviews, poetry and beautiful visuals too.
 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Billy Joel’s My Life.

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Filed under A.S.A. Harrison, Agatha Christie, Andrea Camilleri, Geoffrey McGeachin, Karin Alvtegen, Peter Robinson