One of the tropes in romance novels and films is forced proximity. People who don’t know each other well, and often don’t like each other much, have to work together. In that genre, those people often end up falling in love. You also see that sort of trope in crime fiction, where people who don’t like each other have to work together anyway. And it’s actually an important skill, if you think about it, so it makes sense that it comes up in fiction. And in fiction, working with someone one doesn’t like can build tension. Sometimes that dislike changes to grudging respect or even liking; sometimes it doesn’t. Either way, it can add to a story.

For example, in Agatha Christie’s The Murder on the Links, Hercule Poirot receives a letter from Canadian ex-pat Paul Renauld, who’s now living in France. In the letter, Renauld writes that his life is in danger, and he asks for Poirot’s help. Poirot and Captain Hastings travel to France, only to find that by the time they get there, Renauld has been murdered. The case is investigated by M. Giraud of the Sûreté, so at first, Poirot wants to co-operate with him to solve the case. But from the very beginning, they don’t get along. Giraud is pompous, arrogant, and completely dismissive of Poirot. To be fair, Poirot has his own faults, so it isn’t surprising that they clash. Things don’t get any easier between them as the case goes on, either, and one sub-plot of the novel concerns that discord.

Jane Casey’s Maeve Kerrigan series begins with The Burning. In it, Maeve has just joined the Met, and wants to make good. There’s one big stumbling block, though: there’s a culture of sexism among some of her colleagues, Still, Maeve does her best and the work environment slowly improves. However, she still butts heads with her immediate supervisor, Josh Derwent. Not only does he hold some sexist views, but he doesn’t care at all for Maeve’s independence. He’d rather her wait for instructions and not always take initiative. For her part, Maeve resents Josh’s high-handedness and what she sees as arrogance. It doesn’t help matters that he isn’t at all a ‘team player.’ As the series goes on, they do learn to work better together, but their fraught relationship forms a solid story arc in the novels.

Gianrico Carafigio’s Involuntary Witness introduces readers to Bari-based attorney Guido Guerrieri. In it, he is approached by a woman called Abajaje Deheba. She says that her partner, Abdou Thiam, has been arrested for the abduction and murder of a ten-year-old boy. She also says that Thiam is innocent, and she wants Guerrieri to defend him. Guerrieri goes to visit his new client, only to find that Thiam doesn’t really want to work with him. Thiam is convinced that he will not get justice in the Italian system, because he is non-European. It takes a lot of convincing and several meetings for Thiam to trust his new lawyer, and for his part, Guerrieri doesn’t think much of his client. Still, the two get to work, and over time, their relationship improves. And that serves both of them well when the case goes to trial.

William Deverall’s first Arthur Beauchamp novel, Trial of Passion, begins as Beauchamp, a Vancouver lawyer, decides to retire to Garibaldi Island. He’s brought back into action when Professor Jonathan O’Donnell, acting dean of law at the University of British Columbia, is charged with rape. Law student Kimberly Martin claims that O’Donnell raped her after a party. O’Donnell isn’t happy with the lawyer he’s retained, and he insists that Beauchamp defend him. At first, Beauchamp doesn’t want to take the case, but he is finally persuaded. That doesn’t mean he cares much for his client, though. For one thing, O’Donnell isn’t honest with him at first, and any lawyer will tell you that it’s crucial for a client to give all the details and be as honest as possible. For another, O’Donnell isn’t a warm, friendly person and he gets on Beauchamp’s nerves. Still, Beauchamp has a job to do. Over time, he and O’Donnell do learn to work together, and when it comes time for the trial, Beauchamp is ready. It’s an interesting example of the issues that can arise when lawyer and client don’t mesh well.

There’s also Liam Mcllhanney The Quaker, which takes place in 1969 Glasgow. Three women have been found dead, and the press and public are eager for answers. The killer is a man they’ve dubbed the Quaker, and the police have been doing all they can to find and stop the murderer. So far, though, leads haven’t panned out, and little progress has been made. Then, Detective Inspector Duncan McCormack is sent to join the Quaker Squad. As you can imagine, he is not exactly welcomed by the other members. To them, he is an interloper trying to show them up. He knows nothing about the case, and they feel he has no respect for what they’ve done. So in their ways, the members of the Quaker Squad make it hard for McCormack to do his job. For his part, McCormack sees them as lax and unhelpful. Underneath it all, though, everyone wants to catch the killer. Over time, McCormack learns that the Quaker Squad is composed of caring cops worn down by the case, but still with abilities and motivation. And the squad learns that McCormack is good at what he does and does more than his share of the work. As the novel goes on, we see some grudging respect on both sides, and while they may never be friends, the team has learned to work together.

We don’t always get to choose the people we work with, and it’s sometimes hard to get along with those we dislike. But it’s an important skill to learn. And that sort of conflict can add much to a novel.

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Smokey Robinson’s You’ve Really Got a Hold On Me.