Category Archives: Virginia Duigan

But it Don’t Take No Detective*

StoriesWithoutSleuthsWhen most people think of crime novels, they think of a story with a mystery (usually about a murder or series of murders) and the sleuth who solves the case. And a lot of crime novels have that form. But not all of them have that pattern. There are even crime stories that arguably don’t have a sleuth. In that sort of novel, there may be references to ‘the police,’ or a mention of one or another police officer. But those characters don’t really figure into the story.

It’s not easy to write that sort of story since traditionally, the suspense in a crime story is built as the sleuth solves the case. But when it’s done well, crime stories without sleuths can have their own kind of suspense. Here are just a few examples; I know you’ll be able to think of lots more than I could.

One very suspenseful story that has no sleuth is Frederic Brown’s short story Don’t Look Behind You. The narrator tells the history of a printer named Justin, a suave man named Harley, and what happens when they get involved with some very dubious people. There are certainly crimes involved, but the suspense isn’t built through solving them. Instead, it’s built through the way in which the narrator addresses the reader.

There’s also no sleuth in Robert Pollock’s Loophole: or, How to Rob a Bank. Architect Stephen Booker is made redundant by his company. At first, he thinks he’ll find a new job quickly; he is, after all, a professional. But time goes on and he finds nothing. He finally settles for a job driving a cab at night, so he can continue looking for a ‘real job’ during the day. One evening, he picks up a passenger who turns out to be professional thief Mike Daniels. Over time and several cab rides, they get to know each other, and they learn that they may be able to help each other. Daniels and his team are planning a major heist: the robbery of the City Savings Deposit Bank. In order for their logistics to work, they need help from an architect, and Booker may be just the man for the job. For his part, Booker is desperate for money, and after some misgivings about turning to crime, falls in with Daniels’ team. The group has every detail ready, and at first it looks as though the robbery will go off as planned. But then a sudden storm comes up and changes everything…

Pascal Garnier’s The Front Seat Passenger begins when the police inform Fabien Delorme that his wife Sylvie has been killed in a car accident. Their marriage hadn’t been a loving one for some time, but he still feels her loss. What’s worse than that though is that he learns that she was not alone when she died. Sylvie had taken a lover Martial Arnoult, who was with her at the time of the crash and who also died. When Delorme learns that Arnoult left behind a widow Martine, he determines to find out about her. He soon becomes obsessed with Martine and begins a relationship with her. And that’s when things begin to spin completely out of control.

In Virginia Duigan’s The Precipice, we are introduced to former school principal Thea Farmer. As the story begins, she’s left her position and had a dream home built for herself in New South Wales’ Blue Mountains. But bad luck and poor financial planning have changed everything. Now Thea has to settle for the smaller house next door, which she refers to as ‘the hovel.’ To make matters worse, her perfect home is purchased by Frank Campbell and Elllice Charringon, whom Thea heartily dislikes (she calls them ‘the invaders.’). After a short time, Frank’s twelve-year-old niece Kim comes to live with him and Ellice. At first, Thea is prepared to dislike her, too. Instead, she discovers that the girl has real promise as a writer, and even forms a kind of awkward friendship with her. So when she begins to believe that Frank and Ellice are not providing an appropriate living environment for Kim, Thea gets very concerned. The police won’t do much about it without clear evidence, so Thea makes her own plans to deal with the situation. This novel does refer to the police, but there really isn’t a sleuth. Rather, the suspense is built as we learn, little by little, about Thea, about the new arrivals, and about what happens when Thea decides to take matters into her own hands.

Kanae Minato’s Confessions is the story of middle school teacher and single mother Yūko Moriguchi. When her only child, four-year-old Manami, dies, it looks at first like a tragic accidental drowning. But Yūko knows that Manami was murdered; what’s more, she knows who is responsible. In fact, the novel begins with a speech she makes to her class in which she makes it clear that she knows who killed her daughter. She doesn’t trust the juvenile justice system to punish the culprits appropriately, so she’s made her own plans for justice. And as the story goes on, we follow the lives of her students, and we learn what her plan was. The tension in this novel is built as life spirals downwards for several characters, and as we learn what, exactly, was behind the original murder.

And then there’s Paddy Richardson’s Swimming in the Dark. Fifteen-year-old Serena Freeman is one of the most promising students that secondary-school teacher Ilsa Klein has had. And Serena seems to be really interested in further education. Then, everything changes. Serena stops coming to class regularly; and when she is there, she doesn’t participate. Ilsa takes her concerns to the school counselor, and a visit is duly made to the Freeman family. When that effort is rebuffed, there’s not much more that Ilsa can do, although she is still worried. Then, Serena disappears. Three weeks later her sister Lynnette ‘Lynnie’ travels from Wellington to the family home in Alexandra to look for Serena. This novel doesn’t really cast Lynnie (or anyone else, for the matter of that) in the role of sleuth. Rather, the suspense and interest are built as we learn the truth about Serena and about some of the other characters. It’s that slow reveal, rather than a sleuth solving a mystery, that keeps the reader engaged.

It can be a challenge to build and maintain interest if the author tells a crime story without a sleuth. But in the right hands, it can work well. What are your thoughts on this? Does a story need to have a sleuth for you to ‘plunge in?’ If you’re a writer, have you ever tried your hand at a crime story without a sleuth?

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Billy Joel’s The Great Wall of China.

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Filed under Frederic Brown, Kanae Minato, Paddy Richardson, Pascal Garnier, Robert Pollock, Virginia Duigan

Girl, I’m On Your Side*

Female MentorsSometimes we all benefit from the guidance of someone who’s more experienced and knowledgeable. Those mentor relationships are often organic, and they benefit both people involved, really. If you’ve ever had a mentor, you know how much of an impact that relationship can have. It’s certainly a part of real life, and there are plenty of crime-fictional examples as well.

In Agatha Christie’s Cat Among the Pigeons, for instance, we are introduced to Honoria Bulstrode, head of Meadowbank, an exclusive girls’ school. In one plot thread, Miss Bulstrode’s been contemplating what will happen when she retires, and she’s deciding who should succeed her. One possibility is Eleanor Vansittart, her ‘second in command.’ Miss Vansittart is devoted to Miss Bulstrode, and makes it quite clear that she intends to run the school in exactly the way Miss Bulstrode does. Another possibility is Eileen Rich, who teaches English Literature and Geography. Miss Rich is quite young for a position of real authority; still, she has a real passion for teaching, and is gifted in the classroom. Miss Bulstrode’s concerns for the future of the school are put aside when games mistress Grace Springer is shot late one night at the school’s new Sports Pavilion. Then there’s another murder. And a disappearance. Julia Upjohn, a pupil at the school, makes an important discovery about the events at the school. She visits Hercule Poirot, who is acquainted with her mother’s good friend, and asks his help. Poirot returns with her to the school and investigates. Throughout this novel, we see how Miss Bulstrode acts as a guide and mentor, especially to Eileen Rich.

There’s a similar relationship between Gail Bowen’s sleuth Joanne Kilbourn Shreve and her informal mentor Hilda McCourt. When we first meet them in Deadly Appearances, Joanne is investigating the poisoning murder of her friend up-and-coming political leader Androu ‘Andy’ Boychuk. In part to deal with her own sense of grief and loss, Joanne decides to write Andy’s biography, and begins with his youth. That’s how she gets to know Hilda, who taught Andy in high school. Over the course of the next few novels in the series, the two women become friends. Joanne is glad of Hilda’s wisdom and experience, and benefits from using her mentor as a ‘sounding board.’ For her part, Hilda ‘adopts’ Joanne’s family and she too benefits from the relationship.

Riley Adams’ (AKA Elizabeth Spann Craig) Memphis Barbecue series features Lulu Taylor, who owns Aunt Pat’s Barbecue. The restaurant is named for Lulu’s aunt, who taught her about cooking and about running a restaurant. That mentoring relationship has been very important to Lulu, who is proud to carry on the good traditions she learned from her aunt. Now that Lulu is no longer a young woman, she’s a mentor herself. Her son Ben is married to Sara, a talented artist. In a few novels in this series, Lulu serves as a sort of informal mentor to Sara. And in Hickory Smoked Homicide, she helps clear Sara’s name when she becomes a suspect in the murder of socialite and beauty pageant coach Tristan Pembroke. Lulu has a way of supporting Sara without ‘taking over’ or interfering in her daughter-in-law’s life.

In Virginia Duigan’s The Precipice, we meet former school principal Thea Farmer, who’s had a dream house built in New South Wales’ Blue Mountains. Unfortunately, some poor financial decision-making and bad luck have meant that Thea has to give up that perfect house and settle for the house next door. None too happy about that, Thea calls the smaller house ‘the hovel.’ To add insult to injury, Frank Campbell and Ellice Carrington buy the home Thea still sees as her own. Thea dislikes then intensely, referring to them as ‘the invaders.’ Then, Frank’s twelve-year-old niece Kim comes to live with the couple. At first, Thea is prepared to dislike Kim as much as she does Frank and Ellice. Instead, she develops an awkward kind of friendship with Kim, and sees real promise in the girl. She even invites Kim to join her in a writing class she’s taking. Thea sees herself as Kim’s mentor and support system, so when she begins to believe that Frank and Ellice are not providing an appropriate home for the girl, she makes her own plans to do something about it.

Wendy James’ Out of the Silence: a Story of Love, Betrayal, Politics and Murder is a fictional re-telling of the case of Maggie Heffernan, who was convicted and imprisoned in 1900 for the murder of her infant son, and sentenced to execution. In this account, Maggie meets Jack Hardy when he visits her rural Victoria town to see relatives of his. The two fall in love and secretly become engaged. Then Jack leaves for New South Wales to find work. Maggie discovers that she’s pregnant, and writes to Jack several times; but he doesn’t respond. Knowing that her family won’t accept her, Maggie goes to Melbourne where she gets work in a Guest House. When the baby is born, Maggie lives briefly in a home for unwed mothers, until she learns where Jack is. When she goes to see him, though, he rejects her utterly, calling her ‘crazy.’ Maggie and her infant son are then turned away from six lodging houses; that’s when the tragedy occurs. In the meantime, we also follow the story of Elizabeth Hamilton, who moved to Australia after the death of her fiancé. She soon meets Vida Goldstein, the first woman in the British Commonwealth to seek office as an MP. Vida is a champion of women’s rights and women’s suffrage, and wants to mentor Elizabeth. The two women become interested in the case of Maggie Heffernan, and try to prevent her execution. Throughout this novel, we see several examples of women mentoring and supporting other women; it’s one of the story’s themes.

We also see that in Kishwar Desai’s stories featuring social worker Simran Singh. In Witness the Night, an old university friend asks Simran to travel from Delhi to her home town in the state of Punjab to help in an unusual and appalling case. Fourteen-year-old Durga Atwal is suspected of the poisoning murders of thirteen of her family members; some were stabbed as well. Later, the house was set on fire. One possible theory is that Durga is responsible for what happened. However, there are signs that she may have been a victim too, and simply managed to escape. The authorities can’t get her to discuss that night though, so there’s no way to really know what happened. That’s where Simran comes in. It’s believed that if she can get Durga to talk about that night, there’ll be a clearer picture of the killings. Simran agrees and begins to interact with Durga. Bit by bit, the two get to know each other and Simran feels a sort of mentor-like protectiveness about the girl. In fact, it’s not spoiling the story to say that she plans to take Durga in once the case gets resolved.

There’s also Paddy Richardson’s Swimming in the Dark. In that novel, secondary school teacher Ilsa Klein becomes concerned when one of her prize students, fifteen-year-old Serena Freeman, loses interest in school. She stops attending class regularly; and when she is there, she barely takes part in what’s going on. Ilsa takes her concerns to the school’s counselor, but Serena’s family is, to say the least, dysfunctional and not open to help from the outside. Ilsa and her mother Gerda continue to become involved in Serena’s life, and that decision draws them into more than either had imagined.Then Serena disappears. Her older sister Lynnette ‘Lynnie’ travels from Wellington back to the family home in Alexandra to look for the girl. Without giving away spoilers, I can say that mentoring/supporting plays a major role in this novel.

Those often-informal mentoring relationships can make a big difference in how we move along in life. Sometimes they make a bigger difference than more formal things. As I post this, we’re observing International Women’s Day. But really, supporting women is something that we can do all the time, not just on one day. Look behind you: there’s probably a woman (or another woman if you’re female) working her way up in life. Reach back and support her. It’s not a competition; it’s a matter of everyone doing better when each one does better.

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Thomas Bank and Candy Dulfer’s Girls Should Stick Together (for Nada).

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Elizabeth Spann Craig, Gail Bowen, Kishwar Desai, Paddy Richardson, Virginia Duigan, Wendy James

She’s Never Had a Nickname*

NicknameNicknames are a big part of many cultures. Sometimes they’re simply shortened versions of people’s names. Other times they’re descriptive (e.g. either ‘Curly’ or ‘Baldy’ for someone with no hair). Still other times they’re intended as insults. Either way, nicknames can add depth to a fictional character. And sometimes, they’re pretty funny, too. Here are just a few crime-fictional examples to show you what I mean.

In Agatha Christie’s Mrs. McGinty’s Dead, Hercule Poirot is persuaded to travel to the village of Broadhinny to investigate the death of a charwoman. Everyone thinks the murderer is her lodger James Bentley, but Superintendent Spence is beginning to think Bentley is innocent. And as Poirot gets to know the various villagers, he suspects that several of them are hiding things that Mrs. McGinty may have discovered. One of Bentley’s few friends, former co-worker Maude Williams, wants to help clear Bentley’s name. Poirot enlists her aid as a sort of spy in the home of Roger and Edith Wetherby, with the goal of finding a clue that might link them to Mrs. McGinty’s death. The Wetherbys are not pleasant, friendly people; in fact, here is how Maude describes them during a conversation with Poirot:
 

‘Old Frozen Fish was shut up in his study as usual…
So I nipped upstairs into Her Acidity’s bedroom…’
 

Those nicknames really are quite descriptive, actually.

In Virginia Duigan’s The Precipice, we meet former school principal Thea Farmer. She’s had the perfect home built for herself in New South Wales’ Blue Mountains, and is looking forward to living there. But then, some bad financial decisions and bad luck get in her way, and she’s forced to sell that perfect home and settle for the smaller house next door – a house she calls ‘the hovel.’ To add insult to injury, her dream home is purchased by Frank Campbell and Ellyce Carrington, and they soon move in. Thea is contemptuous of the new arrivals and very resentful that they’re living in ‘her’ home. In fact, her name for them is ‘the Invaders.’ It’s quite reflective of what she really thinks of them and of her perception of life. Then, unexpectedly, she develops a sort of awkward friendship with Frank’s niece Kim, who comes to live with him and Ellyce. So when Thea begins to suspect that they are not providing an appropriate home for a child, she wants something done about it. The police can’t do much, so Thea makes plans of her own…

Of course, not all nicknames are meant as insults. In Adrian Hyland’s Gunshot Road, for instance, Aboriginal Community Police Officer (ACPO) Emily Tempest investigates when former prospector Albert ‘Doc’ Ozolins is killed. At first it looks as though he was murdered as the result of a drunken quarrel. But Tempest suspects otherwise and starts to ask questions. Doc got his nickname because he was a geologist, and although he was a little eccentric, there are people who respected his knowledge. Tempest’s own miner/prospector father is nicknamed ‘Motor Jack.’

In Kel Robertson’s Smoke and Mirrors, Australian Federal Police (AFP) officer Bradman ‘Brad’ Chen is taking some time off duty to recover from the events of Dead Set. But he’s persuaded to come back to active duty when two politically charged murders occur. Alec Dennet, a member of Gough Whitlam’s (1972-1975) government, has been writing his memoirs with his editor Lorraine Starke. One night they’re both killed, and the AFP wants Chen back at work to help investigate. One possibility is that Dennet and Starke were killed because of the ‘dirty laundry’ he was going to include in his memoirs. There are several people in powerful places who don’t want that to happen. But there are other possibilities too, so Chen and his team have their work cut out for them, as the saying goes. Throughout the novel, Chen works with Constable Paul ‘Voodoo’ Filipowski, who turns out to be very helpful on the case. Voodoo got his name because he was badly injured in one particular incident, but survived, although odds were he wouldn’t. Chen also works with another teammate nicknamed Talkative and with Baby’s Arm, a police videographer.

Fans of Tarquin Hall’s series featuring Vishwas ‘Vish’ Puri will know that nicknames are woven all through that series. Puri himself is sometimes nicknamed ‘Chubby’ because of his fondness for food. His office boy has the equally unflattering name of Doorstop, because he does nothing all day. Then there’s Handbrake, Puri’s driver, and Facecream, one of his investigators who has the knack of blending in wherever she goes. There’s also Tube Light, who is Puri’s top operative and quite skilled with things technical; and Flush, who got his nickname because his was the first house in his village with indoor plumbing.

Sometimes, nicknames are actually more appealing than a character’s real name. For instance, Anya Lipska’s DC Natalie Kershaw frequently reports to DS Alvin ‘Streaky’ Bacon.
 

‘Alvin, she [Kershaw] thought. Who knew?’
 

Her boss doesn’t mind being called Streaky. Alvin is another thing.

And that’s the thing about nicknames. They can be insulting, a sign of bonding, or simply descriptive. They can also add solid character depth. Which fictional nicknames have stayed with you? If you’re a writer, do you give your characters nicknames?
 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from The Go-Betweens’ Head Full of Steam.

 

 

 

 

 

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Filed under Adrian Hyland, Agatha Christie, Anya Lipska, Kel Robertson, Tarquin Hall, Virginia Duigan

Where Are You Now?*

Whatever Happened toSome fictional characters are interesting enough, or sympathetic enough, or in enough of a difficult situation that you wonder whatever happened to them after the events in the story. Those characters may or may not be main characters. They may appear in series or standalones. Either way, their stories aren’t complete by the end of a novel, so the reader isn’t told what, exactly, happened to them.

Each of us finds different characters interesting, so I’d imagine we’ll each have different lists of those ‘whatever happened to…’ characters. Here are a few I’ve wondered about, to show you what I mean. I still would like to know what happened to them.

In Agatha Christie’s 4:50 From Paddington (AKA What Mrs. McGillicuddy Saw!), Elspeth McGillicuddy is taking a train to visit her friend Miss Marple. When another train passes by, she happens to glance into its window. That’s when she sees someone strangling a woman. Very much upset, she contacts the conductor and when the train gets to the station, the conductor passes along her worry. But no bodies are discovered, and no-one has reported a missing person. So no-one really believes Mrs. McGillicuddy’s story – no-one, that is, except Miss Marple. She knows that her friend is neither fanciful nor given to lying, so she does a little of her own research and finds out where the body is probably located: on the grounds of Rutherford Hall, the property of the Crackenthorpe family. Knowing she can’t get away with poking about on the grounds, Miss Marple enlists her friend, professional housekeeper Lucy Eyelesbarrow. Lucy gets a position in the household and, as soon as she is settled in, she begins to search. She discovers the body on the property, but everyone in the Crackenthorpe family claims they don’t know the dead woman. Miss Marple is quite certain that’s not the case, and she looks more deeply into the matter. In the end, we learn who the dead woman was, what her connection to the family was, and why and by whom she was killed. In the course of the story, a few members of the Crackenthorpe family show more than a passing interest in Lucy, and she’s in turn interested in two of them. I’ve always wondered which one she actually chose. Miss Marple seems to know…

C.J. Box is perhaps best known for his series featuring Wyoming game warden Joe Pickett, but he’s done some standalones too. One of them is Three Weeks to Say Goodbye. In that novel, travel and tourism professional Jack McGuane and his wife Melissa face every adoptive parent’s worst nightmare: a court order to return their daughter to her biological father. They’ve loved their baby Angelina since they brought her home, and have proven themselves to be more than fit parents. But they learn to their shock that Angelina’s biological father Garrett Moreland never waived his parental rights. Now he wants to exercise them, and he’s supported by his father, powerful local judge John Moreland. At first, the Morelands try to persuade, then basically bribe, the McGuanes to give them Angelina. When that doesn’t work, Judge Moreland uses his authority to issue a court order giving the couple twenty-one days in which to relinquish custody. They vow to do whatever it takes to keep their child, and that leads to things neither had imagined. At the end of the story, we do get the answers to the main questions (e.g. why the Morelands are so desperate to get Angelina back). But the story doesn’t end neatly. I’d really like to know what happened to the McGuanes after everything they’ve gone through in the novel.

Virginia Duigan’s The Precipice introduces readers to former school principal Thea Farmer. She left her position and had a ‘dream home’ built in New South Wales’ Blue Mountains. Unfortunately, some poor financial planning has forced Thea to give up that lovely house and settle for the house next door – a house she calls ‘the hovel.’ As though that weren’t enough, Frank Campbell and Ellice Carrington buy the house Thea considers hers, and move in. She considers them intruders and wants nothing to do with them. And for Thea, things get even worse when Frank’s twelve-year-old niece Kim joins the Campbell/Carrington home. After a time though, Thea finds herself developing an awkward sort of friendship with Kim. And she sees that the girl has real promise as a writer. So when she comes to believe that Frank and Ellice are not providing an appropriate home for Kim, Thea gets concerned. She can’t really take all of her fears to the police, because they can’t do anything without actual evidence of abuse, neglect, etc. So she decides to take her own measures to deal with the situation. I can say without spoiling the story that I’ve always wanted to know whatever happened to Kim. What sort of life did she make for herself?

In William Ryan’s The Twelfth Department, Moscow CID Captain Alexei Korolev and his partner Sergeant Nadezhda Slivka are assigned to investigate the murder of noted scientist Boris Azarov. Since his work is considered essential by the government, this case will have to be handled very carefully. The evidence suggests one suspect in particular, and it looks as though the investigation will be finished soon. But then, that person is also murdered. The NKVD (this series takes place just before World War II) has a particular theory of what happened, and both Korolev and Slivka know that it’s in their interests to ‘rubber stamp’ that theory. But at the same time, neither is satisfied; so, they dig deeper. They find that these deaths are related to something much bigger than either detective imagined. At the end of the novel, I was left wondering what would happen to some of the people caught up in this case. I don’t want to say much more for fear of spoilers, but there is a group of people whose ultimate fate isn’t exactly spelled out. I’d like to know what happened to them.

David Whish-Wilson’s Line of Sight is the first of his historical (1970s) novels featuring Superintendent Frank Swann of the Perth Police. As the novel begins, Swann’s been out of Perth for a few years, but he returns when his friend Ruby Devine is murdered. There aren’t really any viable suspects except Ruby’s partner Jacky White. But Jacky claims that she’s innocent. And in fact, she herself is viciously attacked. Swann soon suspects that all of this is the work of the ‘purple circle,’ a group of corrupt police officers who use terror and blackmail to stay in power. Swann’s already on their ‘hit list’ because he called for a Royal Commission hearing into corruption in the police department. There are plenty of people who don’t want to talk to him either for that reason or because of their own fear of the ‘purple circle.’ But Swann persists and find out who really killed Ruby and why. Readers learn the answers to the important questions in this story. Still, I’ve always wondered what happened to Jacky. She left that sort of impression on me.

What about you? Are there fictional characters whose ultimate fate you’d like to know? If you’re a writer, do you deliberately leave readers wondering what happened to certain characters?
 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Edie Brickell & New Bohemians’ Air of December.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, C.J. Box, David Whish-Wilson, Virginia Duigan, William Ryan

I Got the Feeling That Something Ain’t Right*

Growing SuspicionsHave you ever seen Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window? Even if you haven’t, you probably know the premise: L.B. ‘Jeff’ Jefferies is laid up with a broken leg; to pass the time, he begins to observe what’s going on in the other apartments that face the same courtyard his does. It’s not long before he begins to suspect that one of those other people, a man named Lars Thorvald, may be a murderer. Part of the tension in the film comes from the the fact that we don’t see the suspected murder, and there’s no real evidence that anyone’s been killed. And yet, Jeff is convinced that something is very wrong. Everything Thorvald does has a logical explanation; yet it also has a possibly sinister one as well. And of course, the more convinced Jeff is that Thorvald is a murderer, the more possible danger there is for him and his girlfriend Lisa Fremont.

It’s arguably a bit harder to depict that kind of growing suspicion with words, but it can make for a suspenseful plot point in a crime novel. Is someone a character observes a criminal or not? We see that in all sorts of crime fiction; space only permits me a tiny sampling.

In Agatha Christie’s Death in the Clouds (AKA Death in the Air), French moneylender Marie Morisot, who goes by the name of Madame Giselle, is poisoned while en route from Paris to London. The only possible suspects are her fellow passengers, so Chief Inspector Japp concentrates his attention there. Hercule Poirot was on the same flight, so he works with Japp to find the killer. One evening, two of the other passengers, Jane Grey and Norman Gale, are having dinner and discussing the case. They notice detective novelist Mr. Clancy eating at the same restaurant and decide to sleuth him. As they do, they come to believe that he’s acting most suspiciously:
 

‘His direction, too, was erratic. Once, he actually took so many right-angle turns that he traversed the same streets twice over.
Jane felt her spirits rise.
‘You see?’ she said excitedly. ‘He’s afraid of being followed. He’s trying to put us off the scent.”
 

Mr. Clancy does other things too that make the two suspect him.

Ira Levin’s The Stepford Wives is the story of Walter and Joanna Eberhart and their move to the quiet town of Stepford, Connecticut. At first, the move seems like an excellent decision. The town is lovely, they’ve been welcomed, and their children Pete and Kim have settled into school and begun to make friends. Then Joanna’s friend Bobbie Markowe starts to suspect that something dangerous is going on in Stepford. At first, Joanna thinks Bobbie is overreacting. But then other things happen that convince Joanna that Stepford is not the idyllic place it seems to be. Everything she observes seems to have a very plausible explanation; in fact, she herself wonders whether she may be crazy. But she learns that what she’s noticed also has a very sinister explanation as well.

In Megan Abbott’s Die a Little, Pasadena schoolteacher Lora King learns that her brother Bill has met and fallen in love with Alice Steele, a former Hollywood dressmaker’s assistant. Lora wants to be happy for her brother since they’ve always been close. But she’s not at all impressed with Alice. On the surface, Alice seems terrific; she’s beautiful, pleasant and quite devoted to Bill. But Lora has her doubts. Still, she puts the best face on it when Bill and Alice get married. Then, little things begin to surface that make Lora doubt Alice even more. Everything she learns has a plausible explanation, and Alice provides them. But Lora’s suspicions continue to grow. Then there’s a murder, and Alice may be mixed up in it. Lora is afraid for her brother, so she decides to find out whether that’s true. The more she learns about Alice’s world, the more repelled Lora is by it; at the same time though, she is drawn to it. And that sense that something is probably – but not definitely – very wrong adds a layer of tension to the story.

Tarquin Hall’s The Case of the Missing Servant introduces us to Delhi PI Vishwas ‘Vish’ Puri. The ‘bread and butter’ for his private investigations company is ‘vetting’ potential brides and bridegrooms. Before final wedding arrangements are made between families, one or the other often hires an agency such as Puri’s to make sure that the prospective new family member is respectable and meets the family’s standards. One such case is that of Brigadier General Kapoor, who hires Puri to look into the background of Mahinder Gupta, who is slated to marry Kapoor’s granddaughter Tisca. On the surface, there seems no problem with Gupta, and there’s no one thing in particular that upsets Kapoor. But he has the feeling that something isn’t right about the bridegroom-to-be, and he’s become worried. As Puri and his team investigate, they find out something that Kapoor didn’t know.

In Virginia Duigan’s The Precipice, we are introduced to former school principal Thea Farmer. She’s planned and had built a ‘dream house’ in New South Wales’ Blue Mountains. But poor financial decisions have meant that she has to change her plans drastically. Instead of the perfect home, she’s had to settle for the smaller house next door – ‘the hovel,’ as she refers to it. To make matters worse, Frank Campbell and Ellice Carrington have purchsed the home that Thea still sees as her own. She dislikes them both intensely, and even more so when Frank’s twelve-year-old niece Kim comes to live with them. Still, Thea develops a kind of friendship with Kim. So when she slowly begins to be convinced that Frank and Ellice are not providing an appropriate environment for the girl, Thea gets concerned. She soon learns that the police aren’t going to do anything about it because they don’t have actual evidence that there’s any problem. Everything Thea witnesses has a plausible explanation. But she is certain that Kim is at risk. So she makes her own plans to deal with the situation.

Everything may appear perfectly innocent on the surface, but sometimes it’s not. And sometimes little suspicions can grow, whether or not they’re well-founded. That possibility can make for a solid layer of suspense in stories (and in films!). Which ones have stayed with you?
 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Stealers Wheel’s Stuck in the Middle With You.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Ira Levin, Megan Abbott, Tarquin Hall, Virginia Duigan