Thursday, March 18, 2021

Charles Todd--A FATAL LIE

DEBORAH CROMBIE: You all know how thrilled I am whenever there is a new Charles Todd book! I have been reading both the Inspector Ian Rutledge series and the Bess Crawford series from the very first book and I eagerly await each new installment. How this mother and son (and my good friends!) writing team manages to be so prolific, I don't know!


Caroline Todd is here today to tell us about the newest Rutledge, A FATAL LIE. I loved this book! First, the setting is fabulous. The Pontcysyllte Aqueduct in North Wales is not only one of the wonders of English Victorian engineering--it is also old home territory for me as I lived not too far from it in Chester. I know Shropshire, too, where other parts of the story take place, and have often visited my friends in Ludlow. And there are narrowboats in this book!

I think the Todds were very brave to have taken a narrowboat across the aqueduct, however. I'm not sure I'd have had the nerve. And no way would I walk across it!

Here's Caroline!

CAROLINE: One of the great things about writing is when you find “inspiration,” an idea that grows and blooms and finally takes shape as a book.  You just never know where that inspiration will come from. A photograph—that was THE BLACK ASCOT—a place—A DIVIDED LOYALTY—something we’d read that triggered NO SHRED OF EVIDENCE—it could be anything.  And suddenly your imagination is alive and taking that idea seriously.

           For A FATAL LIE, that inspiration was the Telford Aqueduct in northern Wales, where we took a narrowboat across the valley of the River Dee and looked down at the water far below. If you fell from the horse walk beside us, you’d be killed. We were asked when we got to the other side of the valley and stepped out of the narrowboat whether we’d like to walk back across. Neither of us volunteered!


            But then the question was, who fell? Or was he pushed….

           And over dinner we began to find answers.

           From that beginning, we found ourselves with the story of a good and decent man, whose body was found floating in the river, several days after he’d fallen. As Rutledge searched for the victim’s identity, everyone he interviewed seemed to have a secret they were willing to keep at any price, protected by a tangle of lies and half-truths. And Rutledge had to untangle all the lies, before he could discover which among them was the fatal lie, the one that had sent Sam to his death.

           The more we explored the lives of the people who knew Sam best, the more intrigued we were.  I think that’s the bedrock of a good mystery, that feeling of what’s going to come of this story? You’ve set yourself a puzzle—who killed this man?—and why? And then you begin to realize that the characters have taken on a life of their own and are leading you into paths you never anticipated.

           One of our favorite people was the elderly lawyer who sat like a spider in the center of a web, knowing more than he told, lying when it suited him, confusing the inquiry where he could, and trying to lead Rutledge down rabbit holes of deceit. He wasn’t easy to write, but the challenge of getting him right was well worth the effort because he gave so much to the story.

           And we got to see a side of Rutledge that was interesting too.

           One of the most fascinating aspects of England in the early years of the Twentieth Century, was how insular places were. Most people never traveled more than twenty miles from home. And crime was generally local too. What happened in a Shropshire village wasn’t reported to a Cheshire or Welsh village. A man might kill in Wales, move on and commit another crime in Shrewsbury—and chances were, no one connected the two. This makes life particularly difficult for even the best policemen trying to get to the bottom of a crime. Watching how Rutledge put together facts and leads, untangled the lies, and finally brought a killer to justice made us eager to see what the next day brought to the book.

           Why are we so intrigued with Rutledge—and Bess? Because they take us into a different world that we’re exploring with each mystery we write. We had always read mysteries because they were such terrific puzzles. And now we enjoy creating our own…

A peaceful Welsh village is thrown into turmoil when a terrified boy stumbles on a body in a nearby river. The man appears to have fallen from the canal aqueduct spanning the valley. But there is no identification on the body, he isn’t a local, and no one will admit to having seen him before. With little to go on, the village police turn to Scotland Yard for help.

In one of his most puzzling cases, Scotland Yard Inspector Ian Rutledge must delve deep into a dead man’s life and his past to find a killer determined to keep dark secrets buried.

DEBS: Caroline, I have to ask, did you learn to pronounce Pontcysyllte?? Spelling it is hard enough!

READERS, tell us if you'd walk across that bridge!



109 comments:

  1. Congratulations, Caroline, on your newest book.
    While I’m truly excited at the thought of a new Ian Rutledge book . . . and this story sounds so intriguing . . . I definitely would not want to walk across that bridge.

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    1. Thank you, Joan--and Mark too. Actually crossing is really fun--unless you look down. Quiet and smooth and like floating. I don't like heights either, which is why Charles and I went back across by boat, not on foot! And Debs, I could pronounce the Welsh name while there--but would probably murder it now! That's why we decided to call it the Telford Aqueduct in the book!

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  2. Congrats on the new book. Always interesting to hear the germ of an idea.

    Not sure I'd walk across that bridge. I have this fear of heights, and I think that might be too much for me.

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  3. Oh, the aqueduct is a great starting point for the idea for a book. I would be willing to make that trip by boat, but I have an intense fear of heights, especially over water. The only bridges I've been able to walk across are the Arlington Memorial Bridge in D.C. and The Rainbow Bridge at Niagara Falls. The reason I can walk across those is that there is a hugely wide sidewalk where you don't even have to see the water below you.

    I am behind in my reading of your amazing series, Carolyn, but I will eventually get caught up. I just love the history of this time. Kudos to you and Charles for providing so much great reading for so many.

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    1. Thank you, Kathy! You can't see the water as you cross--unless you lean out and look down. You are just gliding in the sky! You are right about the Arlington Bridge and the Rainbow too. You don't feel the sense of being too close to the water.

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  4. Wow, the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct is an impressive feat of Victorian engineering.
    NO, I would not walk across the bridge!
    I can walk on the glassed-bottomed floor on the CN Tower in Toronto and look down, or walk across the windy Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, but that's my limit.

    DEBS: I did not know you lived in Chester! I visited Chester twice and enjoyed walking along the walled portions of that city. Also loved the medieval buildings.

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    1. I even visited the Deborah Crombie House in Chester! It was charming, and I could imagine Debs in the garden with little Kayte! Somewhere I have a picture, which I'll send if I find it.

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    2. Grace, you are brave. When I went to Toronto, there was no way I could go up the CN Tower, especially not on the glassed floor.

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    3. DANIELLE: Believe me, I actually do not like heights. But I have lived on the 19th floor of two highrise apartment buildings and am using to looking downward.

      The Golden Gate Bridge is a bit more scary since the wind is usually very strong as you walk across. I know that many people have committed suicide by jumping off the bridge into the bay waters.

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    4. ANN: That is so cool that you saw the house!

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    5. When I was in South Africa, I stayed in a hotel that was had a corridor with rooms on one side and windows on the other. I was about on the 21st floor. No problem, right? But that hotel was so narrow, I could feel it swaying in a storm. The next morning, I moved down to the third floor! The oddest sensation in the middle of the night--this very slight movement, as if you were on a boat....

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    6. Oppos, I forgot to reply as me. Caroline

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    7. CAROLINE, wow I agreed that swaying hotel experience would be rather unnerving! Good decision to move down to the third floor.

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    8. ANN: Does Debs have her own Blue Plaque now?

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    9. Gigi, maybe I could get Steve Ullathorne to photo shop one in for me:-)

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  5. Congratulations Caroline on the new book.

    No, no way, not ever will I walk across that bridge.

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  6. No way would I walk across that bridge! I'm not even sure I'd take the boat ride. But the story it inspired sounds fabulous!

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  7. I would not walk across that beautiful - and terrifying - thing. And isn't it lovely when inspiration strikes?

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    1. Yes, inspiration makes a book come to life. Charles and I had a short story due once, and we couldn't seem to get anywhere. It was just completely dry and boring. And then another idea popped up, we were inspired, scrapped the first effort and wrote the second one in less than a day! Just because we could feel that one, could actually get inside the story and the characters. Amazing!

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    2. There I go again, without my own tag! There's a cat trying to get into my lap!

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    3. No worries - I figured that was you! I had inspiration strike yesterday for something darker and different than what I usually write. Now to find the time to dive into it.

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    4. Caroline, every time I get what I think is a short story idea, it turns into a novel idea:-) You and Charles are so good at short stories.

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  8. I wouldn't walk across the aqueduct by I'd certainly go over in the narrow boat. I'm so fascinated , ever since I read about them in Deb's book! Then a trip to Chester to see my daughter, and there they were, up close and personal.

    But better than a boat ride would be meeting Caroline and Charles again, the Grande Dame of mystery and her gorgeous offspring! Welcome once more to Jungle Red. You've greatly improved my morning.

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    1. Thanks, Ann! I loved Debs' book about the canals. And I never expected to find us writing about them. But watching and then traveling in one of those boats was so great that we wound up using it. Chester is the loveliest town to explore, and I love Ludlow. First trip to England I went there, and I go back whenever I can.

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    2. Well, I guess I am still Unknown. But it's actually me. Charles is probably laughing. He's the computer guru, and is always telling me how to do something better. Except for writing of course!

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    3. Yes, that is the LLangollen Canal crossing the aqueduct. I can still pronounce Llangollen, as I said it often enough when I lived in Chester. For a while I had an idea that I might learn a little Welsh, but it's quite difficult.

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  9. This book sounds wonderful. I might have walked across the bridge when I was in my early 20s, but no way would I attempt it now.

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    1. Think about the horses crossing that six foot wide space. They were usually led across, which must have helped. But what a place to set a murder scene! Irresistable. Caroline.

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  10. Congratulations on your latest! I love the settings you explore in each book.

    Would I walk across the bridge? Not a chance. Would I take the narrowboat? Yes!

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    1. You'd be so glad you did! It was really impressive!

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    2. I'm sorry I never did that! Although I did see the aqueduct, which is an amazing experience in itself.

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  12. AM
    Oh, so wonderful to see you here today! You know I am such an incredibly huge fan…
    And what an adventure! You both always do the most intriguing things. I’d love to go across in the narrow boat, wonderful! Walking? Well? Maybe…
    That must’ve been an amazing sensation , almost like flying, to be in that narrowboat. . I keep imagining it!

    And such a brilliant puzzle piece when you realized that there was little communication from town to town. That is chilling!
    I absolutely cannot wait to read this! Hooray! Love to you both.

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    1. Thanks so much, Hank! Yes, it's sort of like flying. When we went up in the WW1 type bi-plane, I had no trouble looking over the rim of the cockpit and seeing what was below. I had the plane with me! But there you sit, in an open cockpit, no parachute, but what's happening is so exciting, you forget you're two-three thousand feet up. Same with the narrowboats. And they are so handsome! There was one that was sleek and black and had white curtains at the windows. And another that was Irish green, with yellow trim. Just as in the book. Remember, these were six feet wide and no longer than 72 feet. So they were stable, they didn't bobble across like a rubber duck in the bath tub. You just glide quietly. My daughter was along, and she sat in the prow. I went out to join her for a bit, and it was sunny, a slight breeze, a beautiful day. I looked down to see the valley below, and the river, but my vertigo kicked in and I was back looking at the clouds again!

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  13. I walked across that bridge with Rutledge and once is enough :-) I would love to see it from the River Dee though, and I would chance a ride across in the narrowboat.

    This is one of my absolute favorite series--the mystery within each one is absorbing, the characters often searing, always memorable, and the settings fabulous.

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    1. Thanks, Flora. If you look at the jacket, that's a picture of it from the river. Our editor loved that one, and it was a good choice!

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    2. I love the jacket photo!! Although I'm not sure any photo can really capture how stunning the aqueduct is.

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  14. We sure seem to have a collective fear of heights here, including me. I can't even look at those meme photos of people standing on top of rocks or precipices, it gives me the willies. So, nope, nada, nyet, to the aqueduct walk.

    But I'd for sure take the narrowboat. If you can't see the water far below then it is way better than the train to Machu Picchu, which snakes high above the Urubumba River, halfway up a mountain slope. Luckily, I sat on the uphill side both ways.

    The scenery from the aqueduct must be breathtaking.

    Congratulations on a new Rutledge story, Caroline. I am woefully behind on this series, but up to the challenge of catching up.

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    1. I loved that train ride to Manchu Picchu! The train was old and rickety too! But I got such great pictures! Easy to do behind the camera lens. You don't have that same feeling of falling. One of the great adventures of travel. Did you climb up to the overlook? That was hard because of the altitude. But the views there were terrific. Just like the Aquaduct.

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    2. KAREN: I still have the Machu Picchu/Inca Trail hike on my bucket list. The broken ankle in 2017/18 derailed that trip.

      I remember standing at the waist-high rail at the Grand Canyon and seeing the Rio Grande River waaay down at the bottom. And when I squinted, I could see tiny inflatable rafts of people going down the river.

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    3. Grace, I have still not been to the Grand Canyon! We would have gone this past year, except for quarantine.

      Caroline, yes, I did climb to the Sun Gate! The heights and super deep drop-offs would have freaked me out, except that the day we did this part of our visit it was drizzly and foggy, so we could barely see off the trail. Also luckily, when we got to the top the clouds broke and we were able to see the panoramic view of the valley below. It was breathtaking, and worth every bit of the effort it took.

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  15. Oh my goodness, that bridge! I would love to have walked across it, but I am not sure that, in the moment of it being possible, I would take the necessary first step. The boat, though: yes!

    I must get this series onto my TBR pile; I am behind...

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    1. Amanda, I think it would be fine to read this book out of sequence. There is always enough background info in the Rutledge books, and this story certainly stands on its own!

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  16. Small wonder we decided to set a murder there. I mean, it was just the perfect place. The only guard rail was a slender pipe rail, and it would be easy to push someone over. We started right then and there with the story, then had to back track to finding the unidentified body in the first chapter. Funny how we write--if we can get that first scene right, the whole story seems to fall into place. But when we left the aquaduct that afternoon, we had no idea yet about who had fallen and how he had, pushed or accident, and why he had to die. That was a different "tour," one of discovery as the story unfolded. We became so fond of Sam, but we had to see him through the eyes of others, because he's dead as the book begina. A good man, but because of one fatal lie, he dies.

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  17. Debs, do you start a book with Chapter One, that tour of discovery? Or do you start in the middle--or at the end--working differently? I am always curious about the creative process, because it's so different for every writer. Charles and I had to find the best way for the two of us, but once we did, it felt so comfortable! Caroline

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    1. Caroline, I pretty much always start at the beginning, or close to it. Even if I have an idea where I think the story should end, I never know how I'm going to get there!

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  18. Caroline, welcome to JRW and thank you for the insight into the inspiration for your stories. It would be great if you could tell us a bit more about how you and your son team up to write these two series. There are several authors who work in teams and each one does it differently from the others.

    Debs, thank you for introducing us to your friends. I am going to start looking for these series right now and will add them to my TBR pile.

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    1. That area of Great Britain sounds like it is a dream to explore. Oh and yeah, I'd walk across the aqueduct. I probably would also float across but walking would not be that big a deal. I have a healthy respect for my fear of heights, but I do not let it rule.

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    2. Judy, We found early on that if we were going to get anywhere as a team, we each had to know everything the other knew. We had to read the same books, or articles, or learn the same info. Otherwise, we would be pulling in different directions. Once we realized that, the next step was, who did what? That was another hurdle. We discovered that if we worked on each scene together, passing it back and forth as each of us contributed our view point, in the end, it was much better part of the story. And ever since, we've done that. We toss it around, sketch it out together, look at the possibilities, and then start on putting it down on paper (the computer, but you get the idea.) And we work best in different rooms, because we started out in different states, so even when we are together, we move to different rooms when we begin to work. We concentrate better, I think. Or maybe it's because alone in a room with ideas swirling around in our heads, we are like any author, drawing on the images we see and hear in our minds. So when I tell Charles that I see this scene this way, he tells me how he sees it, and we find a middle ground. I never expected to write with Charles or anyone else. And when writing together first came up--because we seem to have similar brains--we were just curious to start with--can we even do it? Charles's dad and sister, my husband and daughter, have such different brains--more math and numbers--while we share a love of words and are always talking about movies and books and history. And surprisingly, it has been fun to do this. We argue, but we always decide any issue on whether or not it works best for the book.

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    3. I love this insight into your writing process as Charles Todd. There is never a moment in any of the books where the reader stops and thinks, "This is a Caroline scene" or "Charles must have written this scene." The work is seamless beginning to end.

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    4. Judy, if you have not read either of these series, you are in for such a treat. And they are quite different, but both great characters.

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    5. Caroline, what a precious experience this has to be for both you and Charles, collaborating for all these years.

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  19. I found it interesting that so many people share my trouble with heights. I think it's probably a very natural feeling--but I have known others who aren't. I was told that the early skyscrapers in New York City were often built by Mohawk workers, because they had no fear of heights. I was impressed, full of admiration for anyone with that ability. Caroline

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    1. Caroline, thank you very much for revealing your writing process to the readers here. It is so fascinating to me to learn about how all of these wonderful authors get ideas, discover plots, find inspiration and then put it together into stories we can all enjoy.

      That is an interesting tidbit about the early builders of sky scrapers. Hanging out on I-bars 100 feet up is not something I could ever fathom doing. My fear of heights is controlled, not absent.

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    2. Caroline, that's interesting about the Mohawk workers being hired to build the skyscrapers. I've seen pictures of me building those and got dizzy just looking at them. Another aspect to fear of heights, at least for me, is stairs with open spaces, metal staircases to be specific. Almost 50 years ago now, I toured NYC with my senior high school class, and one of our stops was the Statue of Liberty. You were allowed to go up to the crown, but at a certain point, you had to get there by a metal staircase with open spaces between the steps. I did okay going up, because I was looking up as I went. However, when I tried to go back down, I went pale and shaky, and I had to be led down the stairs, one classmate in front of me holding my hand and one classmate behind me, also holding onto me.

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    3. Kathy, I appreciate that fear. One of my recurring nightmares is climbing unfinished stairs, reaching points where stairs do not exist. Whooo, whooo, whoo. Spooky.

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  20. Caroline here again. I am taking a five minute break--my cats are telling me that they are close to starvation, and if I'm any sort of mother at all, I will drop everything to give them food. If you have cats, you know that look! So pathetic, even though I know and they know that they are spoiled to piece! But they are worth it. I'd have dogs too, but sadly I'm allergic to them. So I spoil my daughter's dogs whenever I can. Be right back!

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  21. I was in as soon as I saw the words narrowboat! Looking forward to reading this one! Not sure if I would want to walk across or not. I don't like riding in cars across high bridges, but I would definitely do a boat.

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    1. The great thing, Judi, is that we did it for you, and you can read about it in a comfortable chair with a cup of hot tea or hot chocolate beside you. That's why we love to read--we can go anywhere in the world without having to find our passport or stand in line at TSA. There are so many books about so many different places! Martin Walker in Provence, Louise Penny in Canada, Jeffrey Siger in Greece, and of course Debs in London. I just finished a book set in Australia! All without having to put my shoes on!

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  22. Welcome--wonderful blog! I love hearing about your inspiration and how it gets worked into the story--makes me feel a little less crazy:)

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    1. Hi, Lucy! How are you? You know so well how crazy being a writer can be--someone asked me once if I found it strange to have all those characters wandering about in my head. I hadn't even thought about it that way! But I guess that's what makes us writers, that comfort zone of sharing our heads with all these others. Agatha Christie once said that her family knew when she was thinking about a book--they said she got all broody (as if she was about to lay eggs!) On the other hand, one of my cats sits at the door of my office every morning, as if to say, get with it! Even on days when I want to sit and read or have an appointment, there she is. And she can make me feel so guilty!

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  23. This book is so gripping! I can't say why without it being a spoiler, but when you read it you will see why I was up until two in the morning finishing it! And it is such a twisty, turn-y story--just wonderful.

    I did live in Chester, in a little white bungalow on the Liverpool Road. Funnily, however, I never visited Liverpool then because my Scottish ex had no interest in going there. When I finally went in 2019 it was a real treat, and nothing like I imagined.

    I kept hoping that Rutledge would drive through Nantwich (where Duncan is from) on his journeys between Chester and Shropshire, but it was just a few miles off his route. Maybe in another book!

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    1. Thanks, Debs! Nice to hear! We avoided Nantwich--we couldn't murder any of Duncan's friends! You know how much I love him! And the book set there.
      I haven't gotten to Liverpool yet. But I am told it is so different now than it was back when, before the Beetles, even. I remember one English lady saying that she wasn't allowed to go there when she was a girl, because her mother believed it was a sinful city. All those sailors wandering about, ready to pounce. And so she couldn't wait to get there, and was sorely disappointed when she finally made it.

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    2. We loved Nantwich and the bookstore, listened to the bells from St Mary’s, a perfect afternoon

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    3. Oh, sigh, Ann. I really want to go back there. And I have a glimmer of an idea for a story that would be set partly in Nantwich...

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  24. Okay, I want to talk a little about why we chose the Great War as a setting. The first one was, nobody had been writing about it for decades. So it was a fresh backdrop. The second was that this war--the first WORLD wide war, because the combatants had territories and possessions, and these provided troops too. And that turned the so-called Spanish Flu into a pandemic, killing soldiers and civilians alike. So interesting times. And since Britain bore the brunt of the fighting until the last six months when we finally arrived on the ground and fought our first battle in June, 1918, society there was going to change drastically. And finally, we knew something about that period, because we both love history--and history is about wars. What's more, war doesn't stop crime, and even with so much killing in the trenches, murder was still happening! So there we were with a time, a place, and a backdrop for a mystery! Many writers since A TEST OF WILLS was published have used the Great War, and that's good, because that was a forgotten past, and we need to know that the war and the treaty that followed changed OUR world as well.

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    1. You certainly were the forerunners with books set in--or after--the Great War. It's hard to imagine now that it wasn't written about. It's such a fascinating period, for so many reasons.

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    2. Caroline, I think your books got many people interested in the WWI period again, both authors and readers. As you say, so much happened during that time, and the change in British society is fascinating to me. Those societal changes are what I found interesting in Downton Abbey.

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  25. I would love to travel across the aqueduct in a narrowboat and feel as if I were flying, and I think I would even like to walk across it - the first few steps are always the most difficult. I went paragliding in Queenstown, New Zealand and loved it, except for the part where you literally had to run off off the side just of a mountain to start your flight - every part of your being is saying "Stop!" but once you're in the air it's just indescribably breathtaking ~

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    1. Ye gods, Celia! An aqueduct is nothing to that! I can't imagine stepping off a mountain. I was watching Seal Team one night when the tail gate of the cargo plane opened and they just walked to the edge and stepped off into the night at 33,000 feet. As if it was the most natural thing in the world. My stomach turned over. Even the dog had to have a special oxygen mask. Oddly enough, though, I would love to try it. But I can't see it happening.

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  26. Hello Caroline and Charles! Congratulations on the new book. It's right smack on top of my TBR pile. I hope it doesn't have a fear of heights . . .

    Yes, I would walk across that aqueduct. Heights don't really bother me, and I've walked across high bridges before. I would, however, want to have along a stout walking stick, and I'd only do it on a day when the winds were calm. The narrowboat? In a heartbeat! Years ago my dad and stepmother took a tour of Britain by the canals, and I thought it sounded marvelous.

    What's up next for you two? Because you know I'll devote a weekend to ripping through a book that took you months to write, and then look up and say, "What's next? When does the next one come out? I want MORE!!!!"

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    1. Gigi, I have always wanted to do a canal trip. In England and in France! It sounds so intriguing. One of these days! We turned in the next Rutledge in February, for NEXT Feb, sad to say. I know just how you feel, though. When I've just read one of my favorite authors, I want more too. ARE YOU LISTENING DEBS? Hurry hurry! I have read all the Jungle Reds and love their books, and the one good thing is there are enough of them to take some of the hunger for the next one away, because there's always something new coming out. Before the pandemic last year, Charles and I had lunch in Scottsdale with Rhys and her husband, and I had just finished her latest. I really enjoyed talking to her about it. It was like getting back inside the book for a bit.

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  27. It's always a great day to discover there's a new Charles Todd book out! I love Caroline's description of how a singular place or image or event can lodge in your imagination and grow and twist until it becomes it's own fictional reality (if you will.) I don't see how you could look at the aqueduct and NOT imagine someone falling to their doom!

    As for me, I'm good with heights, and might enjoy walking across the horse path. I contrasted mightily with my dear late husband, who went all the way to the Yucatan and then refused to climb the Pyramid of the Sun when he saw there were no Mayan era guardrails!

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  28. Oh, I know that feeling. When I was in Honduras, I went up a pyramid on my hands and feet, monkey fashion, because there were no guard rails. It was worth it for the view, but I stood there wondering how on earth I was going to get down again. My husband had scrambled up as if he did it every day. And was at the top taking pictures while I was still struggling! But talking about inspiration. Mystery writers are funny. We don't see a sunset and think, What a romantic spot! We are usually wondering what would happen if a body washed up while you were admiring the green flash! I have dear friends in England, and now I've corrupted THEM. Occasionally I answer the phone and hear Pauline--the most proper Englishwoman you can picture--say, Oh, Caroline, when you come over, we've found the most unusual place for you to hide a body! And she's usually right!

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    1. I love that! I work among mild-mannered musicians, but every now and then I will happen upon a situation that just begs for a body. When I say, "I wonder if you could stuff someone into that large organ pipe, and how you'd do it . . ." my musician friends give me the most peculiar looks. But they are, generally even better-behaved after I say something like that.

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    2. I think this got lost, but just adding hi, how are you?

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    3. Opps. that's what happens when you are trying to type around a cat wanting to nap in your lap. That was meant for Julia. But hi to Gigi too!

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  29. Going back a bit to what Deborah said about twisty-turn-y. This was a challenge to write, keeping up with who was lying about what--and why. Because everyone does lie, to protect their own secrets, and in the end, it is Rutledge who has to sift through them to find the fatal lie. Still, it was fun to delve into these secrets and find out what they had to do with Sam's murder. And you know, the pub is a real place. It has been sold now, but when I was there I knew the family that owned and ran it. Really nice people! And perfectly happy when we asked to use it. We went to see the old lead mines, and couldn't help but wonder how many of the men who worked there, and even their families, suffered from lead poisoning. A hundred years ago, no one even thought about that.

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    1. So interesting, Caroline. Is it still a pub, under new owners? I did have to pull up a map to follow Rutledge's journeys. I loved the descriptions of Chester and Shrewsbury. The latter I've visited but don't know well. After reading all the Cadfael books, I was surprised to discover it didn't look like I imagined from the books. Duh.

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  30. Wonderful to "see" you here this morning, Caroline! Rutledge is always a pre-order for me. I've already read A Fatal Lie, mulled it over, and set it on the Ian Rutledge shelf. Poor Ian rackets all over Great Britain, driving himself since he can't take the trains. Does the Yard reimburse him for gas and lodging? I've always wondered how he can pay for all that. And he gets the most complicated, twisty cases that keep him out of London. As for walking across that aqueduct, probably not. I don't fear heights so much as edges or drop offs, if that makes sense. I eagerly await Ian's next book. Can you give us any hints?

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  31. Pat, in this period, policemen got about on bicycles, and so we gave Rutledge a motorcar to get about in. We know that motorcar well--it really exists, and we've ridden in it lots of times. This also freed him to take on more interesting cases, like this one. I expect he does hand in an expense report, since others did for their travels. He was fortunate that he came from a good family and could afford a motorcar in 1914, when he bought this one. But when he left the Met to join the Yard, he thought it would come in handy. Little did he know that when he came back to the Yard after the war, it would help him keep his sanity. Next case for Rutledge? Well, here's the thing. Can a ghost commit murder???

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    1. Caroline, I kept worrying about the petrol, and wondering how easily available it was. And wondering how many clean shirts Ian had packed in his valise! What year are we up to in this book? I'm going to have to look up the car.

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    2. This is funny because as Ruth Cavin, the famous mystery editor, said on a panel once, no one is interested in many times your protagonist brushes his teeth. They want him back in the action. So we have to shorten distances--who wants to wait three days while Rutledge is traveling? And we put in occasional stops for petrol, and we hope the hotels and inns where he stays will do his laundry. These things have to be taken for granted, so that the action can keep the reader with us. A lot of smithies became garages, and worked on motorcars when the horses were gone. Lorries had to bring petrol, and so the stations weren't on every corner. One couldn't wait until one was driving on fumes to find one. But the motorcar was new and it was part of the driving experience, just like the electric cars today. I think we are up to 1921. We kept the pace slower deliberately so that we could explore the relationship between Hamish and Rutledge. That's such a part of Rutledge's character, and Hamish/shellshock were such an integral part of the Great War that we wanted to make it a theme in the books. As for the car, it belongs to a friend, who restored it. Really gorgeous. And it can take modern highways as easily as it once drove on rutted, muddy, unpaved roads. Powerful engine. Rutledge sometimes lets it out on straight stretches, but as these are not frequent, he seldom gets to do that.

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    3. That is funny because Susanne Kirk, my first editor at Scribner's, always nagged me to put in the little details. "People want to know that the cat's litter box has been changed!" Etc. And so I am a little OCD about those things. And I always want to know what people ate!

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  32. Oh, how fabulous! A new Charles Todd book! I really loved following the seed of an idea into the plot of the book - it sounds very intriguing! Can’t wait to read it!

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  33. That's the weird thing about writing. We can't seem to sit down and come up with an idea for a book. It happens spontaneously, when you least expect it. I was mopping the kitchen floor one day when an idea came, and I had to stop what I was doing and send it on to Charles! John walked in to find the mop and bucket still sitting there, while I was on the phone. But he was used to that sort of thing. But this is us. Some people are really good at sitting down and coming up with a terrific plot. That's the thing about writing. I've talked to so many authors and hear such a variety of ways they find inspiration. So it's what works for you, there's not just one way to do it. Going back to Lucy's comment, we all are a little bit mad, as the English would say. You must have to be to do this. But then the writers I've met are also the most fascinating people to talk to, mad or not. :-)

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  34. Caroline, can you tell us a bit about the next Bess, coming in August, I think? I loved the recent novella, A Hanging at Dawn, that gave us some of Simon's backstory.

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    1. That's coming out in July, and the title is AN IRISH HOSTAGE. Bess goes to Ireland for a wedding, and quickly discovers that the 1916 Easter Rising is still shaping attitudes and calls for vengeance. The British are not welcome, and she finds herself trying to help the bride's family when she had no idea who to trust. And all the while she knows that whatever she does, she's be putting herself in danger.
      A HANGING AT DAWN brings in Simon's background. We thought this would be a far more exciting way to go about that than putting it in over several books. And what happens in HOSTAGE and in the book we are just starting, will hinge on that background. Only Bess isn't aware of it, and she doesn't realize how something she says in Hostage is going to hurt.

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    2. July!! I can't wait! And Ireland! Maybe you will inspire me to set that book in Ireland one of these days, Caroline!

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  35. Caroline, is Rutledge's motorcar a Silver Ghost? What a fabulous car! Here's a link I just looked at:
    https://revsinstitute.org/the-collection/1914-rolls-royce/
    It says the car would do up to 80 mph! A terrifying idea on the British roads of the day. Or even now, for that matter.

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    1. Really? I assumed he drove something mundane like a Ford. I'll have to go waaaay back and see what he drives.

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    2. I checked out that car. Good lord! Ian must have had quite a set of arm muscles to rack that car around!

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    3. Deborah, I am going to look up Silver Ghost.

      thanks, Diana

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    4. Pat, I hadn't thought about how strong he would have needed to be. That massive car, with no power steering!

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  36. It's called a touring car, because it's owner-driven, not designed for a chauffeur. The Rolls were big, powerful cars, made to take the English roads of the day, and their headlamps were the size of platters because there were no street lights in the country. I have never driven one myself--there's no power steering--but I have ridden in a good many of them. But this is my favorite. I've driven newer ones, and they are as quiet as the old advertisements says they are. There's the famous ad where it claims that the car is so quiet you can hear the clock ticking. That was said to have upset the company--and the famous response at the next design meeting was, "Gentlemen, we must do something about that damned clock!"

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    1. How did you manage to ride in these fabulous cars, Caroline? That must be a great research story!

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    2. I'm back! With good news! The numbers for A FATAL LIE have been reported and are fabulous, and our agent loves the proposal for the new Bess for 2022. Yea! Sorry to take off like that!
      Meanwhile--about the cars! John knew someone at work who was into Proper Motor Cars--ie, Rolls and Bentleys--and told him about some terrific events. After awhile, John decided to join the club, even though we didn't have a Rolls. They welcomed us, we made great friends and rode in some wonderful cars. One year there was a joint meet with the British club, and we volunteered to house one of the owners (and wife) and so for one weekend, our garage housed a 1930's Rolls! They were lovely people, and we visited them later in England.

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  37. Okay, I have to disappear for a bit, but keep asking questions, and I'll answer them when I get back. Sorry about this, but when your agent asks for a conference call, you say WHEN?!

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  38. Caroline, I just want to thank you for such an interesting and informative visit to the Jungle Reds today. Not only did you answer questions, you gave us additional fascinating information throughout the discussion. This is just the best of author participation!

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    1. Kathy, that's the fun of Jungle Red. Thank you for coming in! Outside it is pouring rain, and inside, I'm enjoying some great virtual visits. Charles planned to be here too, but he's finally up for a Covid shot, and that took precedence.

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  39. What a great setting for a murder -- that bridge looks terrifying. And a BOAT over a BRIDGE... I'm not a huge boat fan, either. But put them both in a book, and I'm IN. Caroline, than you so much for visiting us today!

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  40. Thanks, Hallie! Always great to be here. How are you? You know, I've really missed all the events of the Mystery year--SleuthFest and Edgars, ThrillerFest and Bouchercon, just to mention a few of them. Zoom has been great, at least we get to see each other's faces! The conventions were such a great way of keeping up with people and news and new books to read. And not just the writers! All the readers and fans made all the events special. Let's hope Bouchercon can happen. Charles and I have been looking forward to this for four years, ever since we were told we were the History Mystery Guests of Honor. Try keeping THAT secret for years!

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  41. Going back to Deb's comment about research. We go to England every year to add new places--and new inspiration--for our books. This past year, our trip had to be cancelled--England was having as much trouble there as we were here. so it made perfect sense. Fortunately we cover more than just one book each trip, so there is a lot we can use even in a year like 2020. And it appears that the trip will be cancelled again this year, because many of the things we were planning to do would up closing for the duration. We've really missed those trips. And you are in the same boat, with Gemma and Duncan. I don't know when you'll be able to go, either. Still, going there gives so much life to the story. And it doesn't matter whether this is England or New England or Arizona! Feet on the ground lead to so many unexpected ideas.

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  42. HI Caroline and Charles!

    Sorry I am late to posting my comment today. I had a plumbing emergency.

    Loved reading about your travels to Wales. I was reminded of my tour of Wye Valley in Wales - we visited Tintern Abbey, Raglan Castle and Goodrich Castle. I was surprised to see NO coal mines in Wales. Perhaps that will change because I have been reading that they may bring back coal mines in Wales this year?

    It was very green when we visited Wales. And it was raining the day we visited Wales too.

    FATAL LIE was the perfect title for this novel. I read the novel as soon as my library had it for me. I was on a long list of people wanting to read the book! I wrote a five star review over at Goodreads.

    Research is an excellent excuse to travel, right?

    Diana

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    1. I hope you got things fixed, Diana!

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    2. Deborah, it looks like everything got fixed! This was a great post today!

      Diana

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  43. Caroline, that is terrific news about the sales of A FATAL LIE!! (I think this book may be one of my favorites in the series, although that is a hard choice to make!) And on the Bess proposal--yay!

    And thank you for being such a wonderful guest today. We may have to vote you as the best-ever guest on JRW! Tell Charles we missed him, but nothing is more important than getting that shot.

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