Category Archives: Reginald Hill

But They’re Back Again*

Returning to Old CasesSometimes a present-day murder case is integrally related to a past – even a long-ago – murder. When the police are faced with a case like that, it’s often useful to get information from the police who worked the original case. That’s not always possible, and it certainly doesn’t always go smoothly even if it happens. But tapping the knowledge of those who investigated the original case can give the police a really useful perspective. There are many, many examples of how this plays out in crime fiction; space only allows me a few. But if I know you good people, you’ll come up with more than I ever could anyway.

In Agatha Christie’s Five Little Pigs (AKA Murder in Retrospect), Carla Lemarchant hires Hercule Poirot to prove her mother innocent of murder. Sixteen years earlier, her mother, Caroline Crale, was arrested, tried and convicted in the poisoning death of her husband (and Carla’s father) Amyas Crale. There was plenty of evidence against her, but Carla has always believed her mother was innocent. Poirot agrees to look into the case again. One of the people he speaks to is ex-Superintendent Hale, who was in charge of the case at the time. Like most of the other characters, Hale believes that Caroline Crale was guilty. He’s not particularly pleased, either, at what he sees as the insinuation that he and his team acted incompetently. Quick to reassure him, Poirot says,
 

‘I know you for what you are, an honest and capable man.’
 

And that’s why Poirot depends on Hale to give him the facts of the case and the evidence that the police amassed. Hale’s input doesn’t solve the case, but it provides Poirot with important information.

Reginald Hill’s Superintendent Andy Dalziel helps to provide information about an old case in Recalled to Life. Cissy Kohler was in prison for years for the 1963 murder of Pamela Westrup. Now she’s been released after serving her sentence. There are some not-very-flattering allegations that she was innocent, and that the investigator of record, Wally Tallentire, knew that, and tampered with evidence to that effect. Dalziel bitterly resents that. He was there at the time (Tallentire was his mentor), and is convinced that Tallentire handled the case appropriately. So he decides to look at the case again, more to prove his mentor right and clear his name than for any other reason.

In Stephen Booth’s Dying to Sin, DS Diane Fry and DC Ben Cooper investigate when two sets of remains are discovered on the property of Pity Wood Farm, in the Peak District. As one of their starting points, the police try to establish who owned the property at the time of the deaths. The farm used to belong to brothers Raymond and Derek Sutton, although it was recently sold to Manchester attorney Aaron Goodwin. One of the avenues of exploration for the police is the nearby village of Rakedale. But very few people there are willing to talk to the police, and certainly not to talk about the Sutton brothers. So Fry and Cooper turn to Dave Palfreyman, recently retired from his job as the village bobby for Rakedale. He knows everyone in the area, and knows the history of Pity Wood Farm and of the Suttons. Palfreyman doesn’t return to official active duty in this novel, but he does give Fry and Cooper information, ‘copper to copper.’

In Jan Costin Wagner’s Silence, Sinikka Vehkasalo rides her bicycle to volleyball practice one afternoon, but never makes it. Her bicycle is later found, covered in blood and with the handlebars twisted the wrong way. Inspector Kimmo Joentaa takes the case, and he and his team get to work. One of the eerie things about this case is that the bicycle was found in the spot where, in 1974, Pia Lehtinen’s body was discovered after she’d gone missing. Joentaa himself didn’t work on that case, but recently-retired police detective Antsi Ketola did. Joentaa thinks that the two cases are connected, so he asks for Ketola’s help as he tries to make sense of this new case. It turns out that he’s quite right, and that someone has been keeping some dark secrets for many years.

Ian Rankin’s Inspector John Rebus has recently returned to active duty in Saints of the Shadow Bible. And in one plot thread of that novel, he looks again a former case. It comes out that prominent business leader Stefan Gilmour may have participated in obstruction of justice in a case of murder more than thirty years old. At the time, Billy Saunders was arrested for beating Douglas Merchant to death. The case fell apart though, and Saunders never went to jail. Now, Internal Affairs officer Malolm Fox wants to look into this case again. He wants to show that the police involved in the investigation (and that includes then-Constable Rebus) colluded to keep Saunders from being imprisoned, because he was a snitch, more valuable to them ‘on the outside’ than behind bars. It’s an interesting case of a looking at a past case through the eyes of a copper who was there – and who may have helped to obstruct justice.

And then there’s Sarah Ward’s In Bitter Chill. When the body of Yvonne Jenkins is discovered in the Wilton Hotel, Bampton, the police think at first that it’s a straightforward case of suicide. But there’s more to it than that. A discovery is made that links the death to a terrible 1978 case. One day, Sophie Jenkins and Rachel Jones walked to school together as usual. But only Rachel returned. A search was made for Sophie, but she was never found. If this death is linked to that 1978 case, then DI Francis Sadler and his team want to know as much about that case as possible. For that, Sadler turns to Superintendent Llewellyn, who was a part of that investigation. Llewellyn’s help turns out to be key in finding out what really happened to Sophie Jenkins, and how it’s connected to the present-day death. Admittedly, Llewellyn isn’t retired, but it’s interesting to see how his insights help to drive the investigation.

And that’s the thing about former detectives, and those senior detectives who go back to work on old cases. They are often rich resources, and can do much to aid an investigation. For them, doing so can provide a valuable opportunity for closure.

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Richard Carpenter and John Bettis’ Yesterday Once More.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Ian Rankin, Jan Costin Wagner, Reginald Hill, Sarah Ward, Stephen Booth

Is There Life After Breakfast?*

BreakfastIt’s been said that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. And it’s not hard to see why people have that view. After all, breakfast gets you going in the morning. Breakfast is also a really useful meal for fiction writers.

For one thing, breakfast is a very culturally contextual meal (they all are, really). In some cultures, and contexts, a heavier breakfast is the custom. In others, one eats a light breakfast, and then a heavier lunch or dinner. What’s more, the foods that one eats for breakfast vary by culture.

Breakfast is also a very individual sort of habit. Each of us is a bit different with respect to what and how much we eat in the morning. For the writer, this means that breakfast can be a very effective way to show what a character is like, both culturally and as an individual.

Breakfast can be the setting for effective scenes, too. Those scenes can add to the tension of a story, or to the portraits of the characters. So it’s little wonder that breakfast is woven into a lot of crime fiction.

Fans of Agatha Christie will know that her Hercule Poirot is a chocolate-and-croissant sort of breakfast eater. He’s not much of a one for the traditional, larger ‘Englishman’s breakfast.’ Just that simple fact about him shows readers something of his cultural background.

Christie uses breakfast scenes quite frequently to build story contexts, too. For example, the first chapter of The Murder of Roger Ackroyd is titled, Dr. Sheppard at the Breakfast Table. In it, Dr. James Sheppard, who is the local GP for the village of King’s Abbot, comes home after a very early call. His sister Caroline, who keeps house for him, joins him for a traditional eggs-and-bacon breakfast. At that time, and in that place, breakfast wasn’t a matter of grabbing a protein bar. As the two are talking, we learn about the death of one of the village’s residents, Mrs. Ferrars. That conversation sets the stage for what’s to come next in the novel – the stabbing death of retired business magnate Roger Ackroyd. There are other Christie novels, too (Dead Man’s Folly comes to my mind) in which a breakfast scene gives readers both context and character development.

Some authors use breakfast places and scenes to build a sense of local culture. That’s what Craig Johnson does in his Walt Longmire series. Longmire lives in the small town of Durant, Wyoming. He lives alone and doesn’t do a lot of cooking for himself. But he doesn’t need to, because Durant is home to the Busy Bee Café, owned and operated by Dorothy Caldwell. The Bee, as it’s called, is where the locals go for pancakes, eggs, and other ‘homestyle’ cooking. And coffee. That sort of breakfast food reflects both the small-town context for this series, and the local culture.

Breakfast choices are also very much reflections of the individual. For instance, in D.S. Nelson’s Blake Heatherington stories, we learn that Heatherington’s breakfast preference is an almond croissant. That fits well with his lifestyle (he’s not really the ‘outdoors, strenuous exercise’ type) and his age (he’s – erm – no longer twenty). On the other hand, his detective partner Delilah Delibes, who is much younger and more energetic, prefers a fried breakfast. Not only do their breakfast conversations give readers background for the mysteries, but they also show readers a bit of what these two people are like.

There’s also Reginald Hill’s Superintendent Andy Dalziel. As fans will know, he’s a born-and-bred Yorkshireman who enjoys his food. His personality is reflected in his breakfast choices, too. In Recalled to Life, for instance, Dalziel has gone to the US to follow up on a long-ago murder case that’s stirred up a lot of interest. In this scene, American journalist Linda Steele invites him to breakfast:
 

‘‘I’ll not quarrel with that. Can I get bacon and eggs? I don’t suppose they do black pudding.’
‘Black…what?’
‘Never mind. I like me bacon crisp enough to shave with, and me eggs like a parrot’s eye.’
Linda Steele translated the order into American and the waitress replied in kind.
‘She wants to know if you want syrup.’
‘No, thanks. Marmalade.’
‘With your eggs?’
‘With my toast! Bloody hell, you’ll be offering me kippers and custard next.’’
 

This bit not only shows Dalziel’s personality, but it also shows gives an interesting cultural perspective.

People’s breakfast choices often become a part of their daily life, too, so that it’s very hard to change them. For example, in Martin Edwards’ The Cipher Garden, we learn that a big change is coming to the Cumbria Constabulary:
 

‘The senior management team had insisted that the catering franchisee should wipe the Big All Day Breakfast off the menu during summer.’
 

The idea is that officers should develop healthier eating habits. But that change is certainly not universally accepted. The series features DCI Hannah Scarlett, head of the constabulary’s Cold Case Review Team. In this novel, her second-in-command is Nick Lowther, who
 

‘…still preferred calorie-laden junk food that resembled an exhibit in a long-ago poisoning.’
 

Scarlett’s friend and fellow DCI Fern Larter isn’t much of a fan of the new healthy eating initiative either. In The Serpent Pool, she and Scarlett agree to meet for breakfast at the Beast Banks Breakfast Bar. Larter chooses
 

‘…eggs, bacon, sausage, baked beans, fried bread and black pudding.’
 

She’s not one to be dictated to by policies.

Breakfast choices can be influenced by generation, too. For example, Anthony Bidulka’s Saskatoon PI Russell Quant doesn’t eat a big breakfast as a rule. But his mother Kay sees things differently. She is a farm wife, who’s spent her adult life cooking heavy-duty farm breakfasts with a Ukrainian flair. So when she comes to stay with her son in Flight of Aquavit, there’s an interesting generation clash about what ‘counts’ as breakfast.

There are a lot of other examples, too, of the way that breakfast choices show us what characters and local cultures are like. Some people simply eat cereal (I see you, Jill Edmondson’s Sasha Jackson). Others don’t eat breakfast at all. Still others (you see this in a lot of classic/Golden Age novels) have breakfast served in bed. Sometimes small details like that add depth to characters and contexts to stories in ways that a lot of words wouldn’t. And let’s face it: breakfast resonates with most of us.

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is the title of a Ray Davies song.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Anthony Bidulka, Craig Johnson, D.S. Nelson, Jill Edmondson, Martin Edwards, Reginald Hill

Meet the New Boss*

BossesUnless you’re self-employed, chances are you’ve got a boss. If you’re fortunate, you have a supportive boss who looks out for you and helps you to develop and use your skills. That makes sense when you think about it. After all, if you look good, your boss looks good. Of course, you may be unlucky enough to have a boss who’s not supportive at all, and that can make your work life horrible. Either way, bosses play an important role in the way we feel about our work.

Bosses also play important roles in crime fiction. Some crime fictional sleuths are independent PIs; except for laws and policies that govern what they’re allowed to do, they don’t have bosses in the usual sense of the word. But a lot of fictional detectives have bosses (some are also bosses themselves). Here are just a few examples.

Arthur Upfield’s Napoleon ‘Bony’ Bonaparte is sometimes unorthodox in his approach to solving cases. Just as one example, the alternate title of The Bushman Who Came Back is Bony Buys a Woman. No, it’s not exactly the way it sounds; it’s more complicated than that. And no, Bony isn’t a human trafficker. But he does have different ways of going about things. In that particular novel, he has a rather unusual way of helping one of the other characters as he solves the mysterious shooting of a housekeeper. Sometimes his approach gets him into trouble with the ‘higher ups’ in the Queensland Police. But Bony is fortunate enough to have a boss who understands both his value to the police and his not-always-by-the-book ways. So although they do ‘butt heads’ from time to time, Bony knows that his supervisor supports him and wants him to use his skills.

On the surface of it, you might not think that Reginald Hill’s Superintendent Andy Dalziel would make a particularly good boss. After all, as fans will know, he’s demanding, sometimes quite rude, and certainly not one to care much about the finer sensibilities of his staff. And as the saying goes, he does not suffer fools gladly. But he is in many ways a very supportive boss. He’s not at all one to gush, but he is well aware that he’s got a good team of people working for him. And he looks after them, too. For example, in Child’s Play, the team is investigating the case of a man who’s found murdered not long after claiming to be the son (and only heir) of a wealthy woman who’s recently died. In the meantime, Sgt. Wield faces a difficult personal matter. He’s gotten involved in a relationship with a young drifter who has his own agenda. Now Wieldy has to decide what to do about coming out as gay. When internal police politics threaten Wieldy’s career, Dalziel finds a very clever way to protect his sergeant. He takes care of the rest of his team too, even when it doesn’t seem so.

Fred Vargas’ Commissaire Adamsberg supervises a very unusual team of detectives. At first glance, it seems as though they’d be any boss’ nightmare. One’s a narcoleptic, one has an uncomfortably close relationship with the bottle, and one works better with animals than with people. But Adamsberg is a supportive boss. For one thing, he knows he’s not perfect either. For another, he knows that he has a team of skilled detectives who are good at their jobs. So he looks out for them and listens to them. They may be misfits in a lot of people’s estimation, but Adamsberg gets the best out of them.

The same is true of the team at Andrea Camilleri’s fictional Vigàta constabulary. Inspector Salvo Montalbano can be short-tempered and brusque with people, including those he supervises. And anyone who works for him knows better than to interrupt him when he’s eating. But they also know they can count on him. For one thing, he’s a fine detective. For another, he’s loyal to them and cares about them. As an example, in one plot thread of Dance of the Seagull, one of Montalbano’s team members, Giuseppe Fazio, goes missing. Montalbano immediately puts together a plan to find him. At the time of his disappearance, Fazio was following up some leads on a dangerous smuggling ring, and pursuing that case seems to be the best chance to find him. So Montalbano and the team do exactly that. They find Fazio too, wounded but alive. Throughout the novel, we see how Montalbano’s leadership and his loyalty to his team play roles in what happens.

Martin Edwards’ DCI Hannah Scarlett has to learn leadership skills as she takes over and heads up the Cumbria Constabulary’s Cold Case Review Team. At first it’s seen as a demotion – a punishment for a case that went wrong. But Scarlett is determined to do the best job she can. And she loves her work. So she buckles down and develops the skills she needs to get the best from her team members. Along the way, she has to deal with some very complicated relationships and with the inevitable performance evaluations and other paperwork involved in being a boss. In this series, we get a look at what it’s like to learn how to be a supervisor and lead a team.

Kerry Greenwood’s Corinna Chapman may not head up a large team, but she cares about the people who work for her. Chapman is a Melbourne baker with two shop assistants, Kylie Manners and Gossamer ‘Goss’ Judge. She also has an apprentice baker, Jason Wallace. All three employees are young, and sometimes need some adult guidance. For example, Kylie and Goss have a potentially very dangerous encounter with some weight-loss tea in Devil’s Food. When Chapman learns what’s happened, she does what’s needed to help take care of them and ensure that they’ll be all right. For his part, Jason is learning to live on his own, without the use of drugs. He makes his share of mistakes, but Chapman supports him as he starts to grow up. In turn, all three of the young people are just as loyal to their boss. They step in when needed, they work to make sure that customers are happy, and they are trustworthy.

Those relationships are possibly the best thing about being (or having) a good boss. If you are a good boss, you get your subordinates’ loyalty and best work. If you have a good boss, you get the chance to develop your skills, and you grow professionally. You also forge really positive relationships. Of course, not all of us are lucky enough to have a good boss; that’s the stuff of another post…

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from The Who’s Won’t Get Fooled Again.

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Filed under Andrea Camilleri, Arthur Upfield, Fred Vargas, Kerry Greenwood, Martin Edwards, Reginald Hill

If You Think I’m Feeling Older and Missing My Younger Days*

RetiredCopPolice officers see and learn a lot over the course of their careers. So when they retire, they’re often treasure troves of information about different cases and often, about the history of an area. Their perspectives can be helpful and certainly they can add richness to a crime novel. When retired cops are consulted, they can give the fictional sleuth a lot of insight and, provided they are well-drawn, can be really interesting characters in and of themselves. Here are just a few examples; I know you’ll think of more than I ever could.

Fans of Agatha Christie will know that Hercule Poirot works with Superintendent Albert ‘Bert’ Spence on more than one case. By the time of Hallowe’en Party, Spence has retired to the village of Woodleigh Common, where he lives with his sister Elspeth. Poirot knows the value of Spence’s experience and wisdom. So he pays Spence a visit when a village girl, thirteen-year-old Joyce Reynolds, is murdered during a party. On the afternoon of her death, Joyce boasted that she’d seen a murder, but wouldn’t give any details about it. The fact that she’s now dead leads Poirot to believe that she might have seen something. So he asks Spence about the history of the area, and Spence is able to give him some valuable input. And in fact, Joyce’s murder has everything to do with past history and past crime.

In Stephen Booth’s Dying to Sin, DS Diane Fry and DC Ben Cooper investigate when the remains of two women are found on the property of Pity Wood Farm in the Peak District. The farm was owned for many years by brothers Derek and Raymond Sutton. Derek has died but his brother is still alive and living in a care home. The police interview him, but he can’t add much to their investigation, as he sold Pity Wood Farm before the bodies were buried there. The current owner is Manchester attorney Aaron Goodwin, but he bought the land for development, and has no connection to it or to the area. While the Suttons and Goodwin aren’t completely crossed off the suspect list, Fry and Cooper do see that they’ll need to look into the history of Pity Wood Farm and the nearby village of Rakedale. They soon discover though that Rakedale is a very insular community. No-one seems willing to talk to outsiders, and certainly not about any of the local ‘dirty laundry.’ But there is one person who’s lived there a long time, and who may be able to help. He is ex-PC David Palfreyman, who was the local bobby for thirty years before he retired. Cooper and Fry pay Palfreyman some visits, and it’s interesting to see what his perspective adds to the story. He gives them some background information on the Sutton family and about Rakesdale, and it’s clear that as they talk, he enjoys being part of an investigation again and that he’s missed his ‘police’ role.

Jan Costin Wagner’s Silence features detective Antsi Ketola. After years with the Turku police, Ketola has retired and is just beginning the next phase of his life. But he is still obsessed with one case that he never solved. In 1974, Pia Lehtinen disappeared and later was found in a field, raped and murdered. Ketola followed all the leads, but was never able to catch the criminal. A new case comes up when Sinikka Vehkasalo rides her bicycle to volleyball practice one day and never makes it. Her bicycle is later found, covered in blood and with the handlebars twisted round, in exactly the spot where Pia Lehtinen’s body was found. Inspector Kimmo Joentaa soon suspects that the same killer is responsible for both murders, so he decides to seek Ketola’s help in finding out who killed these two girls and why. And it turns out that Ketola’s knowledge of the old case and the area are very helpful in getting to the truth.

Reginald Hill’s novella One Small Step takes place in the future (well, it was the future when Hill wrote it in 1990). In this story, Superintendent Andy Dalziel has retired, and Peter Pascoe is now the Commissioner of the EuroFed Police. An international team of scientists and astronauts is conducting research on the moon, when one of them, a French astronaut, is murdered. Pascoe takes charge of the investigation and benefits greatly from the input and help he gets from Dalziel. This may not be regarded as Hill’s finest work, but it’s an interesting look at how he imagined the future might be.

Fans of Håkan Nesser will know that at the beginning of his Maardam series, Inspector Van Veeteren is a homicide detective who leads the investigating team. But after decades on the force, he has plans to move on with his life. In the course of the series, he leaves the force and becomes part owner of an antique bookshop. He enjoys his new life, but he still misses solving investigation puzzles. And for their parts, his former team-mates miss working with him and getting the benefit of his experience and his skill at detection. So in stories such as The Unlucky Lottery and The Weeping Girl, his former colleagues informally consult with him on their cases. In the former, Intendant Münster taps Van Veeteren’s wisdom as he solves the murder of retiree who’d just won a lottery. In the latter, Inspecter Ewa Moreno gets involved in the investigation when eighteen-year-old Mikaela Lijphart disappears. Moreno met the girl once and hasn’t been able to forget her. She finds that Makaela’s disappearance is connected with the disappearance of her father and with two murders.

Wendy James’ The Lost Girls concerns two murders that took place in 1978. One is the murder of fourteen-year-old Angela Buchanan. The other is the murder of sixteen year-old Kelly McIvor. The police investigated both deaths, but were never able to solve them. Now, journalist Erin Fury is making a documentary on the effect of murders on the victims’ families. As part of the film, she wants to interview Angela’s family members. Her parents are no longer alive, but her cousins Jane Tait and Jane’s brother Mick Griffin are. So are Jane and Mick’s parents Doug and Barbara Griffin. Doug is a retired police officer who could likely shed a great deal of light on the case and Erin wants very much to interview him. The problem is that he’s been diagnosed with possible dementia. He’s not spoken in a very long time, and seems to be losing his connection to the outside world. So he’s now living in a care home and there’s very little likelihood that Erin will be able to interview him. She finds her own way to gain access to him though, and we learn a surprising amount from what he has to say.

And that’s the thing about retired cops. They’ve seen a lot and been through a lot. They may be ‘straight arrows’ or ‘bent,’ and they may be willing or unwilling to talk about old cases. But they all provide a fascinating perspective on policing, and they often can give some very good insight and advice. Which retired police characters have stayed with you?
 

In Memoriam
 
WarrenClarke

This post is dedicated to the memory of Warren Clarke, who brought Superintendent Andy Dalziel to life on the small screen. He will be much missed.
 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Billy Joel’s Keeping the Faith.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Håkan Nesser, Jan Costin Wagner, Reginald Hill, Stephen Booth, Wendy James

In Silent Graveyards – They Look For Saviors*

GraveyardThere’s something about cemeteries and graveyards that has a certain kind of mystique. Sometimes people visit them to remember loved ones, or to commemorate a tragic event such as a war. They are also of course where the final parts of funeral and burial rites are held in many cultures. And they can provide a lot of information for historians and genealogists. There are a lot of spooky myths about graveyards and cemeteries too; after all, the dead are buried there.

A terrific post by Moira at Clothes in Books on The Guardian Book Blog has got me thinking about how cemeteries and graveyards fit in with crime fiction. And of course it makes perfect sense that we’d see a lot of them, since so much crime fiction has to do with murder. Here are a few stories that came to my mind after reading Moira’s post.

Agatha Christie’s Tommy and Tuppence Beresford find more than one clue during walks through graveyards and cemeteries. For example, in By The Pricking of My Thumbs, the Beresfords visit Tommy’s elderly Aunt Ada, who lives at Sunny Ridge, a rest home. While they’re there, Tuppence hears of a strange mystery and about something ‘behind the fireplace.’ She decides to find out what’s behind the ramblings of the woman who has mentioned the fireplace. At the same time, Tuppence has a strange sense of familiarity about a picture she finds among Aunt Ada’s possessions, although she has never seen the picture before. As it turns out, the two mysteries are related. Both have roots in a very sad story from the past. At one point, the trail leads Tuppence to a graveyard, where she is searching for a particular tombstone. The visit turns out to be very dangerous for her…

Dorothy Sayers uses a cemetery to add a fascinating plot twist in The Nine Tailors. Lord Peter Wimsey and his valet/assistant Mervyn Bunter are on a trip one New Year’s Eve when they have a car accident. Stranded in East Anglia, they are taken in by Rector Theodore Venables of the nearby village of Fenchurch St. Paul. Venables offers them lodging while they wait for the car to be repaired, and the two accept. Wimsey is able to return the rector’s kindness when he fills in as a New Year’s Day change-ringer for Will Thoday, who is ill. That day, news comes that Lady Thorpe, wife of the local squire Sir Henry Thorpe, has died. Wimsey and Bunter stay on for her funeral and then, their car having been fixed, they go on their way. A few months later, Wimsey gets a letter from Venables. Sir Henry died, and preparations were made for his burial. But when the gravediggers opened the family grave where Lady Thorpe was already buried, they found another body already there. Venables asks Wimsey to return to Fenchurch St. Paul and investigate. Wimsey agrees and he and Bunter go back to the village. They find that the unexplained corpse is related to a long-ago robbery and some valuable missing emeralds.

There’s a startling cemetery scene in Reginald Hill’s Child’s Play. Wealthy Geraldine Lomas’ son disappeared during World War II, but she never gave up hope that one day he would come back. In fact, she’s made a will leaving all of her considerable fortune to her son, so long as he returns before 2015. If not, her money is to be divided among three charities. When she dies, her family and others gather at the cemetery for the final burial rituals. An unknown man shows up, calling out ‘Mama!’ and claiming to be her son. Now it looks as though he will inherit everything. But before the will can be sorted out, he is found dead in his car. Now Superintendent Andy Dalziel and his assistant Peter Pascoe have to look through the motives of a number of people to find out who killed the victim. They also have to establish whether he really was Geraldine Lomas’ son.

Jacqueline Winspear’s Maisie Dobbs introduces readers to Maisie, a former World War I nurse who’s returned to England and set up shop as a private investigator. Christopher Davenham hires Maisie to find out whether his wife Celia has been unfaithful. Maisie takes the case and begins to follow Celia to learn her daily patterns. One day, she follows her quarry to a cemetery. She strikes up a conversation with Celia under the pretense of visiting a cousin’s grave. Slowly, she finds out why Celia visited the cemetery and what’s behind her troubling behaviour. She is able to reassure her client that his wife has been true to him, but the cemetery visit leads to another mystery. Several of the soldiers buried there (including the soldier whose grave Celia Davenham visited) had been living at The Retreat, a home especially designed for badly injured WWI veterans. The idea is that they will have a safe place to live, among others who understand what they’ve gone through. In fact, James Compton, son of Maisie’s former employer, is considering moving there, as he is having a great deal of difficulty adjusting to life after the war. But Lady Rowan Compton is concerned about that decision and asks Maisie to look into the place. Maisie agrees and finds out that there are some unsettling things going on at the home.

The real action in Paul Cleave’s Cemetery Lake begins in a Christchurch cemetery. There, cop-turned-PI Theodore Tate is following up on the case of a man who’s died of arsenic poisoning. His wife is suspected of murdering him, and questions have been raised about the death of her first husband. So it’s agreed to exhume that body and test it for poison. Tate is on hand when the exhumation team comes in to do the job, but it’s far from an ordinary exhumation (as if there really is one). As the team is working, several bodies start rising from the lake by the cemetery. What’s more, when the coffin the team is looking for is opened, there’s a real question of the identity of the person in it. In this case, the cemetery holds a lot of secrets…

Steve Robinson’s Jefferson Tayte is a genealogist, so he is accustomed to visiting cemeteries and graveyards as he tracks down information on people’s ancestries. In In the Blood, Tayte has been hired by wealthy businessman Walter Sloane to trace his wife’s genealogy as a gift to her. Tayte has so far learned that one branch of the Fairborne family, his client’s wife’s forbears, settled in the American South. But that line died out. The other branch, beginning with James Fairborne, went to England in 1783 with a group of other Royalists. Sloane wants to find out everything about the family, so Tayte goes to England to follow up on that branch of the family. He begins with the Cornish church nearest where the modern-day Fairbornes live. There he encounters Reverend Joliffe, who shows him round the churchyard. But to Tayte’s disappointment, there are no records of Fairbornes buried in the churchyard. Instead, says Joliffe, those ancestors are probably buried on the modern-day Fairborne estate Rosenmullion Hall. Joliffe makes it clear that the Fairbornes have a lot of local clout, and their co-operation will be needed if Tayte is to get any answers. So Tayte visits Rosenmullion, only to find that no-one in the family is interested in sharing their history with him. Still, Tayte has a paying client and he’s now curious himself as to what happened to the family. So he goes on with his search, although he’s warned off. In the end, he finds out the truth, and I can say without spoiling the story that there’s a very spooky graveyard/cemetery scene in it.

Cemeteries and graveyards really are full of myth, history, and the personal stories of those in them. Little wonder they’re so often mentioned in crime fiction (I know, I know, fans of Arnaldur Indriðason’s Jar City). Thanks very much, Moira, for the inspiration!
 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from The Flower Kings’ Silent Graveyards.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Arnaldur Indriðason, Dorothy Sayers, Jacqueline Winspear, Paul Cleave, Reginald Hill, Steve Robinson