Nate Briggs's Blog - Posts Tagged "murder"
Whispered Imagination - Jul 9
And now a word about Trust – since lack of Trust is one of the reasons so many promising crimes don’t succeed in the world of crime fiction.
Imagine it's 1951 (for example) - imagine you are tennis star Guy Haines cornered during a routine train journey by a charming, but a little off-center, character named Bruno (hereafter referred to as Idea Man). An “idea man” obviously, since he has lots of ideas he’s willing to share with someone he's just met (maybe he should have been a writer).
One of his most exciting concepts involves the removal of Motive in murder. It’s commonly known that, after an incident of foul play, the police investigation moves out in concentric circles: similar to ripples from a stone falling into still water. They always begin with the spouse – or, in Guy’s case, the unhappy spouse - since Guy’s wife is now Officially Inconvenient.
Bruno’s father, as it happens, is also Officially Inconvenient, and Bruno (hereafter referred to as Mr Excitement) is inspired by the sudden inspiration of two men who can resolve these Inconveniences by just “trading murders”. Bruno refers to it as “criss-cross” – a mutually beneficial transaction.
It’s only natural to think that – if eminently practical plans like this were adopted more often – murders would be much harder to solve.
But the narrative arc of the story is how the plan comes to nothing – since tennis star Guy Haines has no inclination to Trust a stranger he's met on a train – even though Bruno (hereafter referred to as Killer A) seems to trust his companion on sight.
There’s “criss” – but not “cross” – and we end with a final startling scene (the least merry merry-go-round ever).
But – taking the theme a little further – what if there were Trust? What if the conspirators were not strangers, but women of mature and careful judgment who have known each other all their lives? What if there were not only means, but method, motivation, and leadership?
What then?
Imagine it's 1951 (for example) - imagine you are tennis star Guy Haines cornered during a routine train journey by a charming, but a little off-center, character named Bruno (hereafter referred to as Idea Man). An “idea man” obviously, since he has lots of ideas he’s willing to share with someone he's just met (maybe he should have been a writer).
One of his most exciting concepts involves the removal of Motive in murder. It’s commonly known that, after an incident of foul play, the police investigation moves out in concentric circles: similar to ripples from a stone falling into still water. They always begin with the spouse – or, in Guy’s case, the unhappy spouse - since Guy’s wife is now Officially Inconvenient.
Bruno’s father, as it happens, is also Officially Inconvenient, and Bruno (hereafter referred to as Mr Excitement) is inspired by the sudden inspiration of two men who can resolve these Inconveniences by just “trading murders”. Bruno refers to it as “criss-cross” – a mutually beneficial transaction.
It’s only natural to think that – if eminently practical plans like this were adopted more often – murders would be much harder to solve.
But the narrative arc of the story is how the plan comes to nothing – since tennis star Guy Haines has no inclination to Trust a stranger he's met on a train – even though Bruno (hereafter referred to as Killer A) seems to trust his companion on sight.
There’s “criss” – but not “cross” – and we end with a final startling scene (the least merry merry-go-round ever).
But – taking the theme a little further – what if there were Trust? What if the conspirators were not strangers, but women of mature and careful judgment who have known each other all their lives? What if there were not only means, but method, motivation, and leadership?
What then?
The Department of Conspiracy Department
A painful (but not terminal) conflict presents itself when we consider so-called “cozy” mysteries -- a fiction genre that’s inexorably spreading like an invasive plant species on the shelves of bookstores just about everywhere - moving murder out of the Urban and into the mostly pleasant Rural.
A typical plot goes like this: old Mrs Butterbottom – bravely widowed these ten years – finds a severed head when she’s digging up her radishes and the usual cast of characters (dithering vicar, village idiot, Chief Inspector worried about his weight, a few people suspiciously young, and many people unsuspiciously old) march through the ensuing pages as everyone suspects and speculates and pours tea.
Agatha Christie mastered the form as well as anyone. But the great advantage offered to Rookie Authors is that this is basically a “kit” for building a novel: off-the-shelf venue, off-the-shelf characters, off-the-shelf plot, off-the-shelf scenes, etc.
Just screw it all together using the bolts and the allen wrench provided in the package, and now you have a book.
Wasn't that easy?
What's missing is what we actually know about villages (this is the paradox mentioned above).
The number of distractions in small communities has increased – massively multi-player games, satellite TV, downloadable music. But small town and villages still remain unfriendly venues for conspiracy and unsolved crime.
Whodunit?
That’s just the point. Everybody knows “whodunit”. Everyone knows how they "dunit". And everyone knows “why”.
People living close together know things – and people who’ve lived close together all their lives tend to know a lot of things.
People who have nothing better to do than see things do see them – and they have no reason to keep them quiet. Gossip tends to bind isolated people together, and – in places like the American Bible Belt, with a strong Calvinist flavor – chatter about “who’s doing what” reinforces community standards: which tend to frown on killing a long-time enemy and burying the head in someone’s vegetables.
All the more reason to admire the members of The Last Wives Club: who execute their perfect crimes in full view of everyone – but with the skill of mature women who have aired dirty laundry about others most of their adult lives.
They know, as well as anyone, how stories get around town.
Conversely, they all know how to keep a secret.
A typical plot goes like this: old Mrs Butterbottom – bravely widowed these ten years – finds a severed head when she’s digging up her radishes and the usual cast of characters (dithering vicar, village idiot, Chief Inspector worried about his weight, a few people suspiciously young, and many people unsuspiciously old) march through the ensuing pages as everyone suspects and speculates and pours tea.
Agatha Christie mastered the form as well as anyone. But the great advantage offered to Rookie Authors is that this is basically a “kit” for building a novel: off-the-shelf venue, off-the-shelf characters, off-the-shelf plot, off-the-shelf scenes, etc.
Just screw it all together using the bolts and the allen wrench provided in the package, and now you have a book.
Wasn't that easy?
What's missing is what we actually know about villages (this is the paradox mentioned above).
The number of distractions in small communities has increased – massively multi-player games, satellite TV, downloadable music. But small town and villages still remain unfriendly venues for conspiracy and unsolved crime.
Whodunit?
That’s just the point. Everybody knows “whodunit”. Everyone knows how they "dunit". And everyone knows “why”.
People living close together know things – and people who’ve lived close together all their lives tend to know a lot of things.
People who have nothing better to do than see things do see them – and they have no reason to keep them quiet. Gossip tends to bind isolated people together, and – in places like the American Bible Belt, with a strong Calvinist flavor – chatter about “who’s doing what” reinforces community standards: which tend to frown on killing a long-time enemy and burying the head in someone’s vegetables.
All the more reason to admire the members of The Last Wives Club: who execute their perfect crimes in full view of everyone – but with the skill of mature women who have aired dirty laundry about others most of their adult lives.
They know, as well as anyone, how stories get around town.
Conversely, they all know how to keep a secret.
