Crime Writer Margot Kinberg

In most cases of murder (especially fictional cases), there’s something that ties the killer to the victim. When there’s more than one murder, there’s something that links those victims, as a rule. So, one of the tasks for any investigator is to find out what that link is. That’s one reason the police often start with the victim’s family and closest friends and associates. Those links are obvious. Other links, though, aren’t so obvious, and it can take time for the police to find out what they are.

For example, in Agatha Christie’s Murder on the Orient Express, successful businessman Samuel Ratchett is stabbed on the second night of a three-day train trip across Europe on the Orient Express. Hercule Poirot is on the train, and he is asked to find out who the killer is. The only likely suspects are the other people in the same coach, so on the one hand, there is a limited number of people to investigate. On the other, only the victim’s valet and secretary seemed to have any link to him, and neither seems to have a motive. It takes a lot of digging into the past, and making use of the clues, to find out who murdered Ratchett and what the link between victim and killer was.

In Liam McIlvanney’s The Quaker, which takes place in 1969, we are introduced to Detective Inspector (DI) Duncan McCormack. He’s tasked with a difficult challenge when he is seconded to Glasgow to help on a puzzling case. Three women have been murdered, and the police haven’t found the person responsible. It’s a tough case because for one thing, there doesn’t seem at first to be a link among the victims. And a careful investigation of the victims’ personal lives hasn’t brought up any new leads. For another thing, McCormack isn’t exactly made welcome in Glasgow. The team working on the case do not appreciate interference and aren’t very willing to work with him. Still, there’s a lot of pressure to solve these murders, so everyone tries to put their differences aside. Then, finally, the link is discovered: each of the victims had gone to a local dance hall on the night of the murder. It isn’t much, but it’s at least a start, and it allows McCormack and the rest of the team to focus their efforts. In the end, it proves a vital clue.

Paul Thomas’ Death on Demand begins with a series of disjointed scenes, which includes some seemingly disconnected murders. Then, the story’s focus turns to Tito Ihaka, an Auckland police detective. Five years earlier, he investigated successful business executive Christopher Lilywhite for his wife’s murder. He was never able to prove it, and Lilywhite used his influence to ensure that Ihaka was banished from Auckland to Wairarapa. Now, Ihaka is being sent back to Auckland. To his shock, he learns that it’s because Lilywhite wants a meeting with him. It seems that Lilywhite has been diagnosed with terminal cancer and wants to talk to Ihaka before he dies. When the two men meet, Lilywhite confesses that he actually did arrange for the contract killing of his wife. He’s going to die anyway, but as he tells Ihaka, the person he hired is still out there, and probably killing other people. The next day, Lilywhite dies, and now Ihaka is left with a complex case in which a set of seemingly random murders is actually linked by the paid assassin who committed them.

Rennie Airth’s River of Darkness takes place just after WW I. The story begins in the small village of Highfield, where Colonel Charles Fletcher, his wife, Lucy, their maid, Sally Pepper, and the nanny, Alice Crookes have been murdered. The only survivor was the Fletchers’ four-year-old daughter Sophy. She is too young and under too much trauma to be helpful, though. So Met Inspector John Madden and Detective Constable (DC) Billy Styles have very few clues. It’s not long before they come to believe that the family was targeted, but no-one knows by whom. The case is about to stall when there is another murder in another village. The alleged killer was imprisoned and has committed suicide. But certain aspects of that case are almost identical to the Highfield murders. Maddon soon comes to believe that the victims are linked somehow, so he and his team slowly build a portrait of the person they think would have been connected to both sets of murders. And when they do, they see that this person is very likely to strike again. Madden will need to work fast to prevent the next murder.

There’s also James Craig’s Never Apologise, Never Explain. In it, Inspector John Carlyle of London’s Charing Cross Station investigates when Agatha Mills is bludgeoned to death in her home. As you might expect, her husband Henry is of immediate interest, but he claims that he’s innocent; he was sleeping at the time and wears earplugs, so he says he didn’t hear or see anything. It’s not a convincing alibi, so Carlyle asks him who did kill Agatha. Henry’s answer is even less credible: he says that his wife had enemies who were out to get her. Henry Mills is duly arrested. While everything seems to be against Mills, there is a little evidence that he may have been telling the truth. The problem is, Carlyle doesn’t have anything to link Agatha Mills to the ‘enemies’ that her husband claims she had. Then one day, Carlyle is at the building where the victim lived. There, he sees a local tramp and asks him some questions. The tramp gives Carlyle a clue which turns out to be the vital link that Carlyle needed.

And that’s the way it is with a lot of cases. When the investigator finds a link (or links) between victims and criminals, or a link that connects a group of victims, it’s a lot easier to find the culprit. These are just a few examples; I know you can think of more than I could.

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Tom Petty’s Make That Connection.