Dumb Witnesses

No, I'm not being politically incorrect! 

By Daryl Anderson

I'm using the word dumb in its original meaning, as in being unable to speak. In mysteries, a dumb witness is one that has witnessed a crime, but is powerless to tell its story.

At least not in the conventional manner.

Perhaps the most beloved dumb witness is Bob the Jack Russell Terrier from Agatha Christie's novel Dumb Witness. As Bob was with his mistress on the night she was murdered, Poirot is certain the little fellow knows the truth and eventually the great detective "hears" what the dog has to say. 

However, a good dumb witness is more than a plot point. As with any other element of the story, it can be used to develop character, inject pathos or even add a little humor. It's also part of a long and revered tradition in Western literature as the first dumb witness appeared way back in Homer's Odyssey.

I'm speaking of Argo, Odysseus' faithful dog.

When Odysseus returns home in disguise only Argo recognizes him. The faithful dog wags his tail, but lacks the strength to go to his master. Fearful of betraying his identity, Odysseus dares not acknowledge Argos. 

Odysseus and Argo

 Odysseus entered the well-built mansion, and made straight for the riotous pretenders in the hall. But Argos passed into the darkness of death, now that he had fulfilled his destiny of faith and seen his master once more after twenty years.

There is something so very human and heartfelt in this passage. Through Argo, Odysseus is more human.

A recent impressive use of the dumb witness is found in Donna Leon's The Waters of Eternal Youth. In the novel Commissario Guido Brunetti is asked to investigate a cold case from fifteen years earlier in which a young girl is attacked and subsequently brain damaged. Before her injury, the girl was an avid equestrian whose greatest joy was her beloved horse Petunia. In the novel's poignant conclusion, the girl is brought to the farm when Petunia now lives. 

In an almost transcendent scene, the old horse and damaged girl recognize one another.

Now, we move from the sublime to the ridiculous.

I'm a dog person and so when I sat down to write my first mystery Murder in Mystic Cove, I knew a dog was going to play a crucial role in the plot. Sure enough, the victim's elderly pug Jinks witnesses his master's murder. Because the victim was such a nasty piece of work I originally pictured Jinks as an extension of his master in order to emphasize the victim's loathsome nature. Anyhow, I pictured Jinks as something like this--

Jinks, first draft

It didn't take long for me to switch tracks and soften some of Jinks' rough edges. Though the elderly pug didn't exactly became lovable, what with his chronic halitosis and excessive gas, he did become a pitiable creature, which helped humanize my very unlikable victim and add a bit of pathos to the tale.

Jinks, final draft

I hope I've proven that dumb witnesses aren't dumb at all but very smart. 

Oh, and I'd love to hear about some of your favorite dummies.

Write about what you know?

When I hear experts telling aspiring authors to write about what they know, I think “Yeah, right, and how many serial killers do you know?”.

Having said that…

It’s a well-known fact that I hate research. Hate it. I’m glad that, if I need to visit foreign shores, I can jump onto Google Earth and fly straight to the street, cathedral, house, park or whatever it is I’m describing. It’s not as good as actually being there, but it does help. On the whole though, I like to set my books locally so that if I need to describe a special place, I can whistle the dogs and set off with them to have a good look at it.

One advantage of this is that when I’m asked if there are any visual elements to the book that might help a cover artist, I can say “Why, yes…” and send a photo I’ve taken.

In Silent Witness for example, one scene takes place on a bleak hillside where the only signs of life are a few sheep and the Singing Ringing Tree. This a musical sculpture, designed to resemble a tree bending in the wind, that hums through specially designed pipes. For the story, I needed to hear it ‘sing‘ so I took the dogs for a walk and we had a good listen. I then needed to convey the impression of the sculpture to the cover artist so I sent her this:

The result was this - a fabulous cover showing one of my favourite places. 

This is from the back cover:

After his ex-wife bled to death in a bathtub covered in his fingerprints, the case against Aleksander Kaminski seemed open and shut. Though sentenced to life in prison, he swears he's innocent, a claim supported by his current wife.

Private investigator Dylan Scott finds himself drawn back to dreary Lancashire in a search for justice. The evidence against Kaminski is damning, but having been unjustly jailed himself, Dylan is compelled to pursue the case; if there's even a small chance the man is innocent, he has to help. The other obvious suspect--the victim's second husband--has a watertight alibi. But Dylan has a strong hunch that as usual, there's more going on than meets the eye in Dawson's Clough.

The deeper Dylan digs, the more secrets he unearths. The question remains: If Kaminski didn't murder his childhood sweetheart, who did?

Silent Witness releases today - yes, today! - and I'm busy celebrating. (Help yourself to virtual chocolates and champagne!) 

So while I’ve never had dinner with a killer (to my knowledge), perhaps being told to write about what you know isn’t quite as stupid as it sounds. What do you think?