Or Maybe She’s the Quiet Type*

There are some people who have a sort of quiet strength of character. They aren’t what you’d call pushy; sometimes, they’re even quiet. But they can be sources of strength, support, and sometimes good ideas. In crime fiction, characters like that can offer interesting perspectives as well as support for the main character. They can be fascinating characters in and of themselves, too. Here are just a few examples; I know you can come up with more examples than I ever could.

In Agatha Christie’s Appointment With Death, we meet the Boynton family. They’re Americans on a tour of the Middle East. Family matriarch Mrs. Boynton is malicious and narcissistic. Hercule Poirot even refers to her as a mental sadist. She has the members of her family so cowed that no-one dares go against her wishes. The one exception is her daughter-in-law Nadine, who is married to Lenox Boynton, the eldest of the Boynton children. Nadine is a trained nurse, so she undertakes a lot of the care Mrs. Boynton needs. She isn’t really the most talkative person, and even though she is aware of the kind of person Mrs. Boynton is, she doesn’t outwardly let it get to her. She is, though, a great source of strength to her husband, and she’s the only one in the family who isn’t intimidated by her mother-in-law. She’s an interesting character, and when Mrs. Boynton is found dead of poison one afternoon, she becomes a suspect. Poirot is in the area, doing his own sightseeing, so he gets involved in the investigation. As the story goes on, we see how Nadine’s quiet strength factors into the family dynamics.

Tony Hillerman’s Jim Chee is a member of the Navajo Tribal (now Nation) Police. He follows the traditional Navajo way; in fact, at the beginning of the series, he’s studying to be a yata’ali, a singer/healer. His mother’s brother, Frank Sam Nakai, is a yata’ali and has taught his nephew a lot. Their relationship is a close one, and Chee gets a great deal of wisdom and advice from his uncle. They sometimes talk about the cases Chee’s working on, and Chee learns from his uncle’s perspective. Frank Sam Nakai isn’t the most talkative of people, and he doesn’t give lectures or long sets of guidelines. He is, though, a quiet source of strength for his nephew, and he sees right through what Chee tells him, and gets right to the truth.

When we meet her in Alan Bradley’s The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie,  Flavia De Luce is eleven years old. She lives with her father and two older sisters in the English village of Bishops Lacey. Flavia is highly intelligent, with a passion for chemistry. In the novel, she gets drawn into the mystery of a dead man found in the family’s cucumber patch. Flavia is young and in some ways immature. But she doesn’t have to untangle life’s questions alone. Her father’s factotum, Arthur Dogger, is an important source of support and wisdom for her. Dogger’s not a young man, and he’s been with the family for a long time. He’s seen a lot and understands a lot, but that doesn’t mean he’s overly talkative. He’s down to earth and doesn’t waste a lot of words. But he’s always there when Flavia needs him, and he guides her, sometimes without her being aware of it.

In Finn Bell’s Dead Lemons, the protagonist, also named Finn Bell, is at a crossroads in his life. His marriage has ended, and he’s been left in a wheelchair due to a disastrous car crash, both things due to alcohol abuse. Now, he’s given up drinking and is trying to find his bearings. He decides to move to the small town of Riverton, on New Zealand’s South Island, and he works with a therapist called Betty Crowe. Shortly after his move, Finn learns that the cottage he bought used to be owned by the Cotter family. He also learns that that family suffered a terrible double tragedy: one day, their daughter, Alice, went missing and was never found; then, a year later, Alice’s father also went missing. Finn gets curious about what happened to the Cotters, and with advice from Betty Crowe, he begins to ask questions. Throughout the novel, Betty serves as a source of what you might call quiet strength. She gets right to the point and sees past Finn’s defense mechanisms. She doesn’t let him lie to himself or to her, and in her quiet, no-nonsense way, she helps him rebuild his life.

And then there’s Chris McGeorge’s Now You See Me. Newly successful author Robin Ferringham has been haunted for three years by the disappearance of his wife, Samantha. He’s been searching for information but hasn’t been able to piece together what happened. Then one day, he gets a call from a young man called Matthew McConnell. It seems that Matthew is in prison in connection with the disappearance and presumed murders of five of his friends. He claims he’s innocent, and he wants Robin to help get him out of prison. During their conversation, Matthew gives Robin a message from Samantha – a message that makes reference to things only she would know. Now, Robin wants to know how Matthew knew Samantha and what happened to her. Matthew agrees to give Robin all the information he has, on the condition that Robin prove Matthew’s innocence. It’s an odd agreement and gets Robin into serious danger as he unravels the mystery. Along the way, Robin depends on the support, advice and wisdom of his twin sister, Emma. She is smart and insightful, and she knows her brother well enough to stand up to him when needed. She isn’t a major character in the novel, but she provides a quiet sort of support and strength.

And that’s the thing about those quiet people. They don’t necessarily have a lot to say all the time, but they can provide helpful perspectives, no-nonsense support, and a clear-eyed point of view.

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Billy Joel’s Modern Woman.