The Smile’s Returning to the Faces*
There’s a sense of relief when a crime is solved. The pieces are put together, and even if the impact of the crime is going to be long-term (or permanent), everyone can take a deep breath and step back from the anxiety, tension, and worse, of dealing with a crime. People handle this sort of feeling differently, of course. In crime fiction, it’s sometimes through a get-together, where people enjoy each other’s company and start to feel – is human the word? – again. You couldn’t exactly call these times celebrations; often there’s been too much sorrow for that. But they are times to relax a bit. There are a lot of examples in the genre; here are just a few.
Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes isn’t typically one to process the anxiety and relief that solving a crime can bring. And yet, even he takes the time to go over a case; that’s Conan Doyle’s strategy for sharing Holmes’ deductions with the reader. And once in a while, he and Watson relax with a drink while he shares his thinking. In The Adventure of the Red-Headed League, for instance, Holmes solves an odd mystery for a pawnbroker called Jabez Wilson. It seems that Wilson learned of a strange job opportunity. A newspaper advertisement placed by a group called the Red-Headed League offered a good salary to the right candidate. The only requirement was that the candidate must have red hair (which Wilson has). The job was easy enough: Wilson was to copy the Encyclopaedia Brittanica. He wasn’t allowed to leave the office during his work hours, but that wasn’t a problem. Oddly, though, one day, Wilson went to work, only to find a sign indicating that the Red-Headed League was disbanded. Now, he wants to find out what happened. Holmes puts the pieces of the puzzle together, and at the end, he and Dr. Watson enjoy a drink together in a pub not far from where they live. It’s a short bit of relaxation while Holmes explains his deductions.
In Agatha Christie’s Appointment With Death, the Boynton family takes a sightseeing tour of the Middle East. The trip includes a visit to the ancient city of Petra. On the second day of the tour, Mrs. Boynton, matriarch of the family, suddenly dies of what looks at first like heart failure. But Colonel Carbury, who’s in charge of the investigation, isn’t so sure. He asks Hercule Poirot, who’s also on the tour, to investigate. The victim was malicious and manipulative; Poirot refers to her as a mental sadist. There’s no shortage of suspects, as she had been cruel to every one of her family members. Bit by bit, Poirot puts the pieces of the puzzle together. The epilogue takes place five years later at a restaurant, where Poirot is having dinner with the various members of the Boynton family, along with a few other characters. As they eat and drink, they talk about what’s happened since the murder, and we can see how they’re putting their lives together. The scene adds a positive note to the story, while not making light of the murder.
As Gail Languer Karwoski’s A Brush With Murder begins, Jane Roland and her friends, Donna Norton and Grace Tanner, travel to a painting retreat to be led by painter Alec Treville. At the retreat, which takes place at a resort hotel called Gardens and Horses, they’re met by another friend, Pam Gerald. They’ve just settled in when they discover the body of a thoroughbred. They’re all badly shaken up, but they do their best to focus on the retreat. Then, Dave, who manages the stables, is attacked and nearly killed. Then, there’s another murder. It’s a dangerous case, and the four friends face real risks as they start to ask questions. They do cooperate with the police, and in general, they let the police do their jobs. But they find clues and other information that, in the end, solve the case. It’s difficult for everyone, and the truth is sad. Certainly, it’s not the light, enjoyable retreat they’d hoped to have. At the end, on the way back to their homes, the women share a car. At one point, they stop for a break and have a picnic lunch, where they all take a little time to decompress and hash over what happened. It gives them some comfort and allows the reader some closure, too.
Mike Martin’s Sergeant Winston Windflower lives and works in the town of Grand Bank, Newfoundland and Labrador. It’s a small community where everyone knows everyone, and one of the ways the community stays together is through shared food and conversation. Whether it’s a potluck, a celebration, a holiday, or something else, getting together is part of the culture. Several of the Windflower mysteries end with a meal and a discussion of the case, its outcome, and so on. For instance, in The Walker on the Cape, the first in the series, Windflower solves the murder of Elias Martin, who died during his customary daily walk. At first, it looked as though he died of a heart attack, but Windflower comes to believe otherwise. It’s a difficult case, and it’s Windflower’s first in Grand Bank. Still, he works out the truth. At the end of the story, he, his girlfriend Sheila, his friend Howard Snoodley, and Snoodley’s wife Moira, share a Jiggs Dinner (a traditional Newfoundland meal). After the meal, they decompress with a discussion of the case, and what will happen to everyone involved. That scene allows the reader to process what happened, and it reinforces the sense of community in Grand Bank.
Kerry Greenwood’s Corinna Chapman is a Melbourne baker who lives and works in a large, Roman-style building called Insula. She’s gotten to know the people who live there, and they’ve formed a sort of ‘found family.’ As the series goes on, they all get involved in some way or another with the mysteries that draw Corinna in, Sometimes, one or another resident is the focus of a mystery. At the end of several of the stories, there’s an impromptu gathering on the building’s roof. People bring drinks or food, and everyone gets a chance to let go and process what happens. Those gatherings do give the reader information, but they also reinforce the bonds among the building’s residents. They’re an effective way to give closure, too.
And that’s the thing about those get-togethers. They serve a variety of purposes for the characters, and they allow the author to provide information without ‘information dump.’ They can also make for effective closure to the story.
*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from the Beatles’ Here Comes the Sun.