Marcia Talley--Circles of Death

DEBORAH CROMBIE: Marcia Talley was one of the very first friends I made in the mystery writing world--at my first Malice Domestic, in fact. Although her first Hannah Ives novel, SING IT TO HER BONES, was published a couple of years after my first novel, she has now beaten me to #20 in her series, with CIRCLES OF DEATH!

But I am celebrating right along with her, because sitting down with a new Hannah Ives is like a get-together with great friend you've been longing to see.

MARCIA TALLEY: Whenever I turn in the final manuscript of a novel, I pour myself a congratulatory glass of wine, sit back and start to worry that I’ll never come up with a good idea for the next one.  About two weeks into this worry-fest for my twentieth Hannah Ives mystery, I met Donna Cole through mutual friends.  Donna is the multi-award-winning investigative reporter whose dogged reporting on the death of thirteen bald eagles on Maryland’s Eastern shore in 2018 brought global attention to a ‘dirty little secret’ that I’ll get to in a moment.

And Donna lives in my neighborhood!  She is the U.S. Navy veteran, bird of prey rescuer, wildlife photographer, breast cancer survivor, neighbor and friend who inspired and informed my novel.  You can keep up with Donna (but you’ll need track shoes!) at https://www.annapoliscreative.com

(Donna Cole)

Anyway, we got together, and Donna introduced me to RSAs--Reserve Shooting Areas--farmland that is set aside as hunting preserves where outfitters are permitted to bring city slickers in on excursions to blow the smithereens out of ducks that have been raised specifically for that purpose.

In order to control predators that take a toll on their stock, some unscrupulous RSA managers have resorted to the use of carbofuran, a poison so deadly that less than a quarter-teaspoon can kill a human.  And it’s not just the intentionally poisoned predators we have to worry about.  Secondary fatal poisonings of domestic and wild animals often occur, specifically raptors (bald eagles and golden eagles), domestic dogs, raccoons, vultures and other scavengers who happen to feed on the carcasses of poison victims. I’ll let my character, Natural Resources Police officer Roger Erickson, explain: 

‘We call it the Circle of Death,’ Roger continued after a moment. ‘A deer is poisoned with carbofuran and dies. A coyote feeds on the carcass of the deer and dies. A fox feeds on the poisoned coyote, walks one-hundred yards away, and dies. Because the fox received a lower dose, it might travel five or six hundred yards before succumbing. A bird that feeds on the dead fox might manage to fly half a mile before dropping out of the sky.’ He paused, removed his hat and tucked it under his arm, then wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his sleeve. ‘The circle of death keeps moving outward. Last year we had a case where there was a five square mile radius where we kept finding dead animals. The crime scene kept getting bigger and bigger. And I’m quite certain we never found them all.’

Carbofuran has been banned in the U.S. since 2009.  In Maryland it is illegal to buy, sell or use it, but not (go figure!) to own it.  Who knows how much of the deadly stuff is still stashed away in barns out there?  So, it seemed natural that Hannah, who has a vacation cottage on Maryland’s eastern shore, would end up discovering carbofuran on the farm adjacent to her property where she and her young friend, Noel, are investigating the poisoning of four bald eagles.

For me, researching a book is half—maybe even more than half!—the fun.  While researching Circles of Death, I became fascinated by the people, like Donna Cole, who rescue sick and injured raptors—sometimes risking their own lives and limbs to do so—and transport them to raptor rehabilitation centers.  I was grateful to be granted the unusual opportunity to tour Owl Moon Raptor Center, where I shadowed rehabilitators Suzanne Shoemaker and Malia Hale for half a day while they cared for sick and injured raptors. Owl Moon rescues, rehabilitates, and reconditions raptors with the goal of returning them to the wild. It is totally staffed by volunteers and supported by private donations. https://owlmoon.org.

(Malia and Suzanne care for a red-tailed hawk.)

(Cyrano!  This is the eagle I call “The Colonel” in CofD.  He’s a male; a female would be at least 1/3  bigger.  Cyrano’s beak had been severely injured by a steel fishing line; it was repaired by a local dentist with dental crown material colored with yellow hi-lighter.)

(Release Day!)

As fans of Hannah know, over the course of the last three novels, she has been using her skills as a forensic genetic genealogist to solve cold cases with a team calling themselves the Silent Sleuths.  It was fun reuniting the team for this novel: investigative journalist Izzy, who leaps at the opportunity to cover the poisoned eagle story; retired police officer, Jack, whose marriage is falling apart; and Navy chaplain, Mark, who is presiding over the Christmas pageant from hell. Together, they unravel a murder nearly three decades old and, in the process, help Noel find her roots.

DEBS: This line in Marcia's essay popped out at me: "So, it seemed natural that Hannah, who has a vacation cottage on Maryland’s eastern shore, would end up discovering carbofuran on the farm adjacent to her property where she and her young friend, Noel, are investigating the poisoning of four bald eagles."

Because of course it did, and this is why Hannah is always so appealing as an amateur sleuth. It's her combination of natural curiosity, her interest in people, and her talent at research that bring the reader right along with her in every book.

Here's a question for readers from Marcia: In my first draft of Circles of Death, 3 of the 4 eagles died. I was encouraged to cut back to one dead bird, with 3 of the eagles very sick. I was OK with that—and it worked out well, plot wise—but it occurs to me that we write about murder—people die right and left in our novels —and yet we sometimes get more pushback whenever an animal is killed, and even more if the victim is a dog or a cat. Would you have made the same decision on the eagles?

And more about CIRCLES OF DEATH:

Hannah Ives and her husband are staying at their idyllic vacation cottage on Maryland’s eastern shore, when a young friend, Noel Sinclair, stops by for a visit. As Hannah shows Noel around the property, they notice some bald eagles in a neighboring cornfield who look seriously ill.

Could these magnificent birds have been poisoned? Hannah’s investigation soon clashes with powerful commercial agricultural interests. Meanwhile, Noel uncovers some shocking news of her own when she and her sister receive the results of their DNA tests. As Hannah tries to discover who is tormenting the birds while delving into Noel’s family tree, the last thing she expects is a deadly connection between the two…

Severn House
ISBN: 978-1-4483-0797-5

Kirkus says: “Two mysteries plotted with an eye for the details of both subjects set this series apart.”

Marcia Talley is the Agatha and Anthony award-winning author of twenty mystery novels featuring Maryland sleuth, Hannah Ives, including CIRCLES OF DEATH, DISCO DEAD and DONE GONE. She is editor/author of two collaborative serial novels, NAKED CAME THE PHOENIX and I’D KILL FOR THAT set in a luxury health spa and an exclusive gated community, respectively. Her short stories appear in more than a dozen collections and have been reprinted in many best-of-the-year crime story anthologies.

Marcia is past-president of Sisters in Crime, Inc. and currently serves on the National Board of Mystery Writers of America. She divides her time between Annapolis, MD and a quaint, Loyalist-style cottage on Elbow Cay in the Bahamas.

Disco Dead--Marcia Talley

DEBORAH CROMBIE: It is always a huge treat for me to host Marcia Talley, one of my oldest and dearest friends in the mystery world, and a new Hannah Ives novel is always a cause for celebration. Here's a snippet from just one of the glowing reviews for Disco Dead, her 19th Hannah Ives mystery:

“...As good as the puzzles in this series are, most readers probably don’t come to the Ives books for the mysteries—they come for the characters. Hannah is a perfectly drawn lead, a part-time crime solver who must juggle friends, family, and serious medical issues, along with all manner of everyday concerns. She may be an amateur sleuth, but she lives very much in the real world ... Some long-running series have their ups and downs, but the Ives series has been remarkably consistent.”— David Pitt for Booklist

Sitting down with a new Hannah is like sitting down with a friend you've missed for a cup of tea (or in our case, a glass of wine!) but you don't have to know Marcia, or to have read the previous books, to be instantly drawn in. 

Here's Marcia to tell you more!

Disco Dead (a tip of the hat here to Elaine Viets for the perfect title!) was supposed to be my pandemic novel, the one where Hannah, confined to her home by the Covid lockdown, becomes an armchair detective working on a cold case via the Internet with a small group of volunteers.  My agent and my publisher had other ideas, however. “Nobody wants to re-live the pandemic, Marcia … they want to escape it.”

Sigh.

The cold case idea had grabbed me, though, as had the idea of Hannah using the skills she’d developed over the past several novels as a genealogical researcher to solve a case. Like I did, Hannah started by researching her family tree and got sucked, big time, down the genealogical rabbit hole. In Disco Dead, she gets to dive even deeper.

It all begins innocently enough.

Perhaps I should let Hannah explain.  Here’s the conversation she has with her daughter in the parking lot outside Trader Joe’s:

Emily locked her car and insisted on escorting me to mine. As we crossed the parking lot, shopping cart clattering along the tarmac, she said, ‘So, what are you doing?’

‘You’ll mock.’

‘No, I won’t.’

‘I’m visiting cemeteries. Taking pictures of headstones.’

Emily frowned. ‘That’s seriously creepy, Mom.’

‘You wouldn’t believe how many people on GenTree are looking for photos of their ancestors’ headstones,’ I informed her. ‘I’ve gotten requests from as far away as Thailand.’

‘How . . .?’ Emily began, but I anticipated her question.

‘A while back, I signed up with FindAGrave.com.’ I slotted the shopping cart between my Volvo and a pickup truck, dug my iPhone out of my handbag and tapped the FindAGrave app. ‘Requests are sorted by zip code. You can choose to claim them or not. Look,’ I said, turning the screen in her direction. ‘Here’s the list of requests for the 21037 zip code I’m working with today.’

Emily shielded her eyes from the noonday sun and squinted at the tiny screen. ‘St Luke’s Cemetery I know, but where’s Bayview?’

‘Just off Central Avenue, down in Mayo.’

‘Honestly,’ Emily said after a moment. ‘Couldn’t you have a hobby like normal mothers. Scrapbooking? Candle making? You like to garden. Why don’t you take up bonsai?’

‘I knit,’ I protested.

‘You know what I mean.’

‘Don’t sell it short,’ I said. ‘I stroll around outside, get sun, fresh air and exercise. It’s quiet, nobody to bother you and nobody to talk to but dead people.’

Emily raised both hands, palms out. ‘And everybody always says I march to a different drummer.’

 ‘The acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree,’ I said, matching her cliché for cliché. ‘Wanna see how it works?’

When Emily nodded, I drew her attention to the app again, swiped a couple of screens forward. ‘I locate the headstone, take a picture and upload it to the database while I’m standing right there in the cemetery. It’s a slick piece of software.’

Emily studied the photo on my screen – a 1943 headstone for a woman who had lived to be 102 before ‘falling asleep in the arms of Jesus’ – then surprised me by laughing out loud. ‘It’s still weird, Mom.’

‘My good deeds for the day,’ I said.

Emily helped load groceries into the Volvo, then turned to go. ‘St Luke’s. Isn’t that where that famous general is buried?’

‘James Taylor Johnson,’ I said as I opened the driver’s side door and slid onto the seat. ‘Yes. Old Bloody Jim.’

‘Well, say hello to the good general for me, will you?’

‘Of course. But he won’t be saying much. He’s been dead for one hundred and sixty years.’

Usually on these expeditions, as Hannah says, there’s no one to talk to but the dead, until the day she encounters Isabel “Izzy” Randall laying flowers on the grave of Amy Madison, a St John’s College senior who died in 1978.  As a former investigative reporter for WBNF-TV in Baltimore, Izzy covered the case.  “Her murder was never solved,” Izzy tells Hannah, “and I can’t get it out of my mind.” It’s been more than forty years since Amy’s body was found floating in the Magothy River north of Annapolis, but Izzy never fails to bring flowers to Amy on her birthday.

Sitting at opposite ends of a memorial bench in the churchyard, Izzy fills Hannah in on the long-cold case. Amy had last been seen alive dancing with a young man at Doot’s, an Annapolis disco bar popular with college students and the under thirties crowd.  After a year-long investigation and few leads, the case went cold. “Nobody seems to care about Amy any more,” Izzy laments.

Following their initial meeting, a friendship develops between the two women which leads to Hannah being invited to join Silent Sleuths, where her online research skills compliment the background and experience of the other members of this small, but passionate group of “citizen detectives” who tackle unsolved “orphan” cases like Amy’s. Jack Shelton, a former Annapolis homicide detective, knows how to get his hands on police files, and Mark Wallis, a Navy chaplain, has a masters degree in criminal psychology.  It isn’t long before the Sleuths begin to suspect that Amy’s murder may have been the work of a serial killer.  Izzy’s intense personal interest in Amy’s case trumps the golden rule of armchair investigators:  never go “real life” by contacting victims’ families or any suspects. Naturally, Hannah  . . .

But that would be telling!

In spite of the serious subject matter, I enjoyed writing Disco Dead.  I’ve lived in Annapolis since 1971, so it was fun revisiting those early years when Annapolis was a little sleepier and less yuppified than it is today. Doot’s Bar is a product of my imagination, but other Annapolis restaurants, shops and institutions will be recognized by anyone familiar with the town.

I particularly enjoyed selecting appropriate titles for the chapters of Disco Dead, each being a popular disco song.  Dancing Queen, Mama Mia, Staying Alive were no-brainers, but there’s also this stroll down memory lane: Take a Chance on Me (ABBA), Where Do We Go From Here (The Trammps), I’m So Excited (The Pointer Sisters), Heaven Must Be Missing an Angel (Tavares) and Last Night a D.J. Saved My Life (Indeep), and several dozen others. Maybe you’ll start discoing and singing along! 

Marcia Talley is the Agatha and Anthony award-winning author of DISCO DEAD and eighteen previous novels featuring Maryland sleuth, Hannah Ives. She is editor/author of two collaborative serial novels, NAKED CAME THE PHOENIX and I’D KILL FOR THAT. Her short stories appear in more than a dozen collections.

Marcia is past-president of Sisters in Crime, Inc. and currently serves as president of the Mid-Atlantic Chapter of Mystery Writers of America. She divides her time between Annapolis, MD and a quaint, Loyalist-style cottage on Elbow Cay in the Bahamas.

www.marciatalley.com

Twitter: marciatalleybks

DEBS: ABBA! Those songs instantly take me back to living in Scotland, where they always seemed to be playing on the radio. Now I think I need to rewatch Mama Mia... REDS and readers, who's a disco fan?

Marcia Talley--Mile High Murder

DEBORAH CROMBIE: One of the many perks of being part of Jungle Red Writers is having the opportunity to showcase your friends--especially when they have a new book! Marcia Talley and I met at Malice Domestic in...mumble mumble--a LONG time ago! Seriously, that would have been around 1994, right, Marcia? We were both newly minted authors then, and we have been friends and brainstorming buddies ever since. So I am more than thrilled to bring you Marcia and her newest Hannah Ives novel, MILE HIGH MURDER.

 

MARCIA TALLEY: I live in Maryland where marijuana has recently become available for medical purposes and where the legislature is actively considering legalizing the weed for recreational use. To date, nine U.S. states as well as the District of Columbia allow the recreational use of cannabis, but the plant is still listed as a Schedule 1 drug – along with heroin and cocaine – and as such, is against federal law. Banks that are part of the Federal Reserve System are prohibited from handling “drug money,” therefore in the states where it is legal, it is largely a multi-million dollar all cash business. Bags of marijuana lying around, I thought.  Sacks of money. What could go wrong?

During my research, I became fascinated by cannabis culture, that is to say the businesses that have sprung up, particularly in western states like Colorado, Oregon and Washington where they thrive, as a result of legalization. Canna-tourism is huge. Guests stay in “bud and breakfasts,” weederies sprawl over many acres and provide Disney-style tours, and (taking a page from the wine industry) restaurants offer food and cannabis parings.  At marijuana shops like Starbuds, Karmaceuticals, and Grateful Meds, budtenders are available to help you choose the perfect weed for what ails you.

The variety of products infused with cannabis is staggering.  Edibles like Berry Bomb Bites, Honey Pot, Mystical Blueberry Jam, Herba Buena Tea and Ganja Grindz Coffee should start your day off on a high note.  There are thousands of topical lotions and balms – Hannah can’t resist the Speakeasy Lip Balm.  Even your dog can mellow out on Bark Avenue Doggie Treats.

What could be more fun than sending Hannah and her friend, Maryland state Senator Claire Thompson, to a “bud and breakfast” in Denver, the Mile High City, to join a diverse group of pot pilgrims and medical refugees? Naturally, one of the group turns up dead, and a closer inspection of the body reveals the victim had been traveling under a false identity …?

I already hear you asking about the research I did for this one!  Let’s just say, quoting former president Barack Obama, “I inhaled frequently; that was the point.”

Research can be hell, folks!

DEBS:  That quote cracks me up. I remember we talked about this book at Bouchercon a few years back.  It sounded like a winning plot then, and how great that Publishers Weekly agrees. Mile High Murder is "witty and well-constructed,” they say and, “Fair-play clues lead to a surprising motive behind the murder [in this] timely and illuminating trip into the often befuddling world of marijuana legislation.”  

Booklist likes it, too.  “As the … series approaches its twentieth anniversary, it’s showing no signs of slowing down. Hannah [is] a woman who’s seen darkness in her own life but who hasn’t let it change who she is ... a sympathetic and likable protagonist, the kind of person we might like spending time with … [T]he mystery she solves here is a very entertaining one ... and its solution is both surprising and memorable.”

And, of course, one of the reasons I adore Hannah Ives is that reading Hannah is like sitting down across the table from Marcia with a cup of tea. (Or a glass of wine... Or...)

As you wait for your copy of MILE HIGH MURDER to arrive, please enjoy this excerpt:

FROM CHAPTER 4:

We’d been waiting outside the terminal for no more than five minutes when a long, white limousine that had been idling a few hundred yards away swept into an opening created by the departure of a yellow Hertz van and eased soundlessly to a stop. The vehicle seemed to go on forever, so long that its hood would reach our B&B hours before its trunk. I counted five windows, back to front. A logo painted on the passenger-side door read Happy Daze Tours, its letters curved in a semicircle under a colorful graphic of a five-fingered marijuana leaf superimposed over a bell.

‘Let me guess,’ I said.

Claire laughed. ‘Our chariot awaits.’

'What’s with the bell?’ I asked, referring to the logo.‘

'That’s the name of the B and B we’re staying in. Bell House.’

In Colorado these days, B&B stood for ‘bud and breakfast’ more often than not. Serious cannatourists flocked to such private establishments, the only ones where smoking, weed or otherwise, was permitted on the premises.

We watched as the chauffeur climbed out carrying a whiteboard that read Thompson in black marker pen.

'That would be me,’ Claire yelled above the noise of the traffic, thumbing her chest.

The driver grinned, revealing a row of impossibly white teeth. ‘Welcome to Denver,’ he said.

‘You must be Austin Norton,’ she said.

‘It’s the shirt. It always gives me away.’

Under an embroidered leather vest that flapped loosely at his sides, Norton wore a black T-shirt that read: IT’S 4:20 SOMEWHERE. He’d belted the shirt neatly into a pair of blue jeans that had been pressed into a sharp crease. I guessed he was around fifty. An aging hippie, I thought. His hair, prematurely silver, was tied back in a low ponytail.

‘Are we waiting for anybody?’ I smiled into his eyes, but saw only my own reflection in his mirrored sunglasses.

‘Nope,’ he said. ‘You’re the last.’ He took our bags and somehow managed to fit them, like pieces to an intricate puzzle, into a trunk already crammed with luggage. Then he held open the door, stood aside and invited us in.

The last time I’d been in a stretch limo had been with a guy named Ron at my high-school prom. This limo, too, had a bar – stocked with designer water – and circular bench seating. But there the resemblance ended. In the Happy Daze limo, LED lights pulsed green, like Kryptonite, turning Claire’s red jacket a dirty shade of gray. A wide-mouthed glass jar containing frosty buds of marijuana took pride of place on a low, central table.

A young guy holding a glass pipe scooted over to make room for us. ‘Welcome to the Mile High City,’ he said as we cut our way through the smog. He wore a Hawaiian shirt and a captain’s hat, soft and faded from repeated laundering, perched at a jaunty angle over his crewcut.

Claire eased into her seat, inhaled and sighed. ‘Ah, this is what I’m talking about!’

As for me, I tried not to breathe too deeply. All my fellow passengers seemed to be smoking something: the guy with the glass pipe; a young couple, their blond heads touching, sharing a hookah like a cream soda with two straws; two women sucking on vape pens. I understood about people going on wine tours of Napa or Sonoma, but they’re not opening bottles of merlot the minute they leave baggage claim. Still, it must be a relief to get high without being hassled by the cops.

‘You trip out early in Denver,’ the young guy said, as if reading my mind. He took a hit from his pipe, held his breath and closed his eyes.

Marcia Talley is the author of MILE HIGH MURDER and fifteen previous novels featuring Maryland sleuth, Hannah Ives. A winner of the Malice Domestic grant and an Agatha Award nominee for Best First Novel, Ms. Talley won an Agatha and an Anthony Award for her short story "Too Many Cooks" and an Agatha Award for her short story "Driven to Distraction." She is author/editor of two star-studded mystery collaborations, NAKED CAME THE PHOENIX and I’D KILL FOR THAT, and her short stories appear in more than a dozen magazines and anthologies. She divides her time between Annapolis, Maryland and a quaint Loyalist cottage in the Bahamas.

DEBS: Here's more about MILE HIGH MURDER:

It’s a fact that some of the cancer support group survivors Hannah Ives works with take marijuana. Recreational use of the drug may be illegal in Maryland, but a few patients, like Maryland State Senator Claire Thompson, are prescribed it on medical grounds. Claire has co-sponsored a Cannabis Legalization Bill and invites Hannah to be part of a fact-finding task force that testifies before the Maryland State Senate.

Before long, Hannah is in Denver, Colorado – the Mile High City – staying at a B&B with a group of pot pilgrims and medical refugees. But when one of the group is found dead, and a closer inspection of the body reveals the victim had been traveling under a false identity, Hannah is plunged into a dangerous cocktail of deception, drugs and death.

Stop in and chat with Marcia, who will be joining us from her "Loyalist cottage in the Bahamas." Sigh... 

PS: And she will answer questions about her "research."

Touring the Isle of Man with Marcia Talley, Kate Charles, and Alan Bradley

DEBORAH CROMBIE: Ever wished you could pack yourself into someone's suitcase for a visit to a fascinating place? Well, here's your chance! Mystery writers (and two of my very best friends and writing buddies) Marcia Talley and Kate Charles take us along on their visit to the Isle of Man with Alan Bradley, author of the wonderful Flavia de Luce books, which I adore. As do Kate and Marcia!

KATE and MARCIA: When we first met Alan Bradley, best-selling author of the Flavia de Luce series, he and his wife, Shirley, were moving from Malta to the Isle of Man where they’d bought a house, a “fixer-upper” overlooking the harbor at Peel. They’d fallen in love with the island – situated in the Irish Sea halfway between England and Ireland – and after listening to their descriptions, we became enchanted, too. “You must come and visit some time,” Alan said.

Douglas Harbour

Three years later, to our surprise and delight, Alan made it happen. 

MARCIA: On Monday, August 14, after an all-night flight from the US, I landed at Manchester Airport where Kate and her husband, Rory, met my plane and whisked me off to Liverpool for the twenty-minute flight to the Isle of Man. We landed at the airport just south of Douglas, the capital, where I picked up the rental car and managed to drive everyone and their luggage to the self-catering flat we’d reserved on Hutchinson Square. 

Hutchinson Square

 

KATE: Marcia’s been visiting me in the UK every year for nearly 25 years, so driving on the “wrong” side of the road with a standard transmission on the “wrong” side of the car isn’t (theoretically) a problem. All went well until she nosed halfway into a parking space on a downhill street and realized it wasn’t at all apparent how to shift into reverse. Time to consult the book in the glove compartment! Nothing in the index under “gears” or “shift” or “transmission”, thank you very much.  By the time Rory located the information under “manual transmission” Marcia had already stumbled over the magic button and managed to park the car.

(DEBS:) That happened to me once with a hired car in England. Terrifying! I finally discovered that you had to pull up on the rubber ring on the gear shift. Who knew?

MARCIA: We later learned that Hutchinson Square – now a quiet enclave of terraced gardens and public art – had been used as an internment camp during World War II. 

KATE: By then we were starving, so after checking in with Alan by phone – we’re here! – we strolled down to the Esplanade for a fine pasta dinner at The Italian Job in the Villa Marina Arcade.

MARCIA: Early the following morning, after warding off the attempts of a persistent seagull to share my breakfast pastry, I got behind the wheel again and braved the narrow lanes and twisty, country roads – famed for the annual fast and extremely dangerous TTmotorcycle races – as we headed off across the island to Peel to meet Alan and Shirley for coffee at their delightful seafront house. We were joined there by radio personality Bob Harrison. Bob – a local institution, it soon became clear – would be our escort, tour guide and interviewer for the next several days.  

Bob Harrison

KATE: At lunch time, we were craving some of the seafood that the Isle of Man is famous for. Bob recommended the Little Fish Café on the quayside in Douglas, where Marcia got to compare the local oysters to those from the Chesapeake Bay, while I feasted on a scrumptious lobster roll and Rory went for the catch of the day.  

Marcia, Kate, and Rory Chase, Kate's lovely husband.

 After lunch, Bob accompanied us to RadioManx, a former radar tracking station high on a hill overlooking the harbour. We were featured on “Women Today”

in a lively hour-long interview with hosts Beth Espey and Michelle Jamieson.

MARCIA: That evening, in spite of a relentless drizzle, Alan, Kate and I drew a standing-room-only crowd at Waterstone’s bookshop in Douglas. Bob is an experienced interviewer who’d read our books, asked thought-provoking questions and managed a lively Q&A with an enthusiastic audience. The bookshop staff couldn’t have been more supportive! They kept the shop – and the coffee bar! – open late for the event.

The following day, Alan and Bob had arranged a surprise. Researching my book Dark Passage, I’d done a lot of reading on the history of magic and illusion.  Magic shows were big in 19^th century England, and theaters had been designed to facilitate them, including the Gaiety in Douglas. 

We were given a VIP private tour of the theatre, which has recently been fully restored to its 1899 splendor.  Of special interest were the intricate mechanisms under the stage – the coffin trap, the Corsican Brothers trap – and the ropes, lifts and pulleys that made the stage magic happen.

KATE: The theatre’s manager told us that sailors stuck in the harbour for the winter were often hired as builders, so a lot of what we saw looked like we were aboard a ship.

Wednesday evening, another standing-room-only crowd – and a fire in the fireplace! – greeted us at DalbyChurch, on the wet and wild west side of the Isle of Man. The church is famous on the island for offering hospitality, including wonderful home-made cakes, and they did us proud. For the price of admission (£5, benefiting the Dalby Restoration Fund and the Family and Mobile Library), another enthusiastic audience was treated to three authors in conversation, sandwiches, tea, and all the cake they could eat!  Once again, Bob MC’d the event. The BridgeBookshop from Port Erin provided the books.

MARCIA: You’re probably wondering by now if we had any time to play tourist. On Thursday Alan had planned a little down time. We met him for lunch in Peel, prowled around the shops (two second-hand book shops!) and spent some time touring the Cathedral.

KATE: A former parish church, the Cathedral at Peel is the seat of the Diocese of Sodor and Man. We took advantage of its most recent addition with a contemplative stroll around the new labyrinth, a replica of the medieval labyrinth at the Chartres Cathedral in France carved by Balinese stone mason Ongky Wijana. 

 

Later that afternoon, back at Alan and Shirley’s home, we were privileged to ‘ride’ (or at least pose for photos with) Gladys, Flavia de Luce’s intrepid bicycle.

Marcia and Gladys!

 MARCIA: Dinner that night was a special treat for all of us, especially me. I spent a good part of my growing up years in China and in Taiwan – and dinner at Mrs. Yang’s in Douglas was the best Chinese food I’ve had since Taipei. 

Yum!

It was worth the whole price of my airline ticket!

KATE: On Friday, we were back on the road, dodging speeding motorbikes as we crossed the extinct volcano at the heart of the island to catch up with the Mobile Library on its route north to Andreas/Jurby. The librarian in charge, Sandra Henderson, made us feel welcome as we greeted patrons (and their dogs!). 

Kate and Rory in the mobile library.

MARCIA: We’d planned to have lunch at a nearby pub, but around noon, just as we were getting hungry, we smelled smoke. James, the mobile van driver, ran down the road and around the corner and came back to report that, “Lunch is off the menu.”

KATE: The pub was on fire! Sandra recommended a diversion to the canteen at the RAF airbase near Jurby, where they were hosting a 1940s-style weekend. This was an added bonus for me – if I’d known it was happening, I would have packed my vintage 1940s dress and joined in with the fun. 

That said, the War itself wasn’t much fun for the many airmen stationed there. Following lunch, we paid a sobering visit to Jurbychurchyard, where a number of US and Canadian pilots were buried after their planes crashed short of the runway.

MARCIA: I could have spent several weeks exploring the wonderful Isle of Man, but we had to rush off to catch our plane.

KATE:  I know! So many things yet to explore. The three steam railways, for example. The castle! The Great Laxey Wheel! We visited two churches – including one at Maughold where there’s an ancient collection of Celtic Crosses – but there’s so much more we missed.

MARCIA:  We’ll have to go back some day. In the meantime, thanks to Alan, Shirley, Bob, Sandra and all the wonderful citizens of the Isle of Man who made our visit so special.

KATE: I’ll second that.

DEBS: I'll third that!! Seriously, next time I'm coming along. Thank you, thank you, Kate and Marcia, for the whirlwind tour. I almost feel I've been to the Isle of Man, and now I certainly want to visit! You two are the best ever tour guides (and Marcia is much better at driving on the "wrong" side of the road than I am...) and I am green with envy. 

Kate and Marcia will be dropping in to chat, so here's your chance to find out more about their fabulous visit!

Alan Bradley is the NYTimes best-selling author of the Flavia de Luce mystery series.  Look for The Grave's a Fine and Silent Place in January 2018.

http://alanbradleyauthor.com

Acclaimed as the Queen of Clerical Crime, Kate Charles is the author of more than a dozen crime novels. The latest, False Tongues, is fourth in the Callie Anson series.

http://www.katecharles.com

Marcia Talley is the Anthony and Agatha-award winning author of Footprints to Murder and fourteen previous novels featuring survivor and sleuth, Hannah Ives.

www.marciatalley.com

REDS ALERT! Kait is the winner of Laura DiSilverio's THAT LAST WEEKEND. You can contact her at ldisilverio AT gmail DOT com