Eight Perfect Murders(5)
My pick for the most ingenious of them all. Two men, each with someone they want dead, plan to swap murders, ensuring that the other has an alibi at the time of the murder. Because there is zero connection between the two men—they briefly talk on a train—the murders become unsolvable. In theory, of course. And Highsmith, despite the brilliance of the plot, was more interested in the ideas of coercion and guilt, of one man exerting his will on the other. The finished novel is both fascinating and rotten to the core, like most of Highsmith’s oeuvre.
The Drowner (1963) by John D. MacDonald
MacDonald, my choice for underrated master of midcentury crime fiction, rarely dabbled in whodunits. He was far too interested in the criminal mind to keep his villains hidden until the end. The Drowner is an outlier, then, and a good one. The killer devises a way to drown his or her victims so that it looks exactly like an accident.
Deathtrap (1978) by Ira Levin
Not a novel, of course, but a play, although I highly recommend reading it, along with seeking out the excellent 1982 film. You’ll never look at Christopher Reeve in the same way again. It’s a brilliant, funny stage thriller that manages to be both the genuine article, and a satirical one, at the same time. The first murder—a wife with a weak heart—is clever in its construction, but also foolproof. Heart attacks are a natural death, even when they aren’t.
The Secret History (1992) by Donna Tartt
Like Malice Aforethought, another “inverted” murder mystery, in which a small cadre of classics students at a New England university kill one of their own. We know the who long before we know the why. The murder itself is simple in its execution; Bunny Corcoran is pushed into a ravine during his traditional Sunday hike. What makes it stand out is ringleader Henry Winter’s explanation of the crime—that they are “allowing Bunny to choose the circumstances of his own death.” They are not even sure of his planned route for that day but wait at a likely spot, wanting to make the death seem random instead of designed. What follows is a chilling exploration of remorse and guilt.
Truth is, it was a hard list to put together. I thought it would be easier to come up with examples of perfect murders in fiction, but it just wasn’t. That’s why I included Deathtrap, even though it’s a play and not a book. I’d actually never even read Ira Levin’s original script or even seen it onstage. I was just a fan of the film. Also, looking back on the list now, it’s clear that The Drowner, a book I really do love, doesn’t quite belong here. The murderer lurks at the bottom of a pond with an oxygen tank, then pulls her victim down into the depths. It’s a fun concept, but highly unlikely, and hardly foolproof. How does she know where to wait? What if someone else is at the pond? I suppose that, once pulled off, it is a crime that truly looks like an accident, but I think I just put the book on the list because of how much I love John D. MacDonald. I suppose I also wanted something slightly obscure, something that hadn’t been turned into a movie.
After I posted it, Claire told me she loved the writing, and John, my boss, was just relieved that the blog had been started. I waited for comments to appear, allowing myself brief fantasies in which the piece would start an online frenzy, blog readers chiming in to argue about their own favorite murders. NPR would call and ask me to come on-air to discuss the very topic. In the end, the blog piece got two comments. The first came from a SueSnowden who wrote, Wow!! Now I have so many new books to add to my pile!! and the second came from ffolliot123 who wrote, Anyone who writes a list of perfect murders that doesn’t have at least one John Dickson Carr on it obviously knows nothing about anything.
The thing about John Dickson Carr is that I just can’t get into those books, even though the commenter was probably right in calling out their absence. Carr specialized in locked-room murder mysteries, impossible crimes. It seems ridiculous now but at the time I was bothered by the opinion, probably because I agreed with it to a certain degree. I even considered a follow-up post—maybe something like “Eight More Perfect Murders.” Instead, my next post was a list of my favorite mystery novels from the previous year, and I wrote the entire thing in about an hour. I also figured out how to link the titles of the books to our online store, and, for that, John was extremely grateful. “We’re just trying to sell books here, Mal,” he’d said. “Not trying to start arguments.”
Chapter 3
Agent Mulvey was holding a printed-out sheet of paper. I took it from her, glanced down at the list I’d written, then said, “I remember this, but it was a long time ago.”
“Do you remember the books you picked?”
I glanced down at the printout again, my eyes going immediately to Double Indemnity, and suddenly I knew why she was here. “Oh,” I said. “The man on the train tracks. You think that’s based on Double Indemnity?”
“I think it could be, sure. He was a regular commuter. Even though he’d been killed elsewhere, it was made to look like he’d jumped off the train. When I heard about it, it made me immediately think of Double Indemnity. The movie, anyway. I haven’t read the book.”
“And you’re coming to me because I’ve read the book?” I said.
She blinked rapidly, then shook her head. “No, I’m coming to you because when I realized that maybe this crime was mimicking a movie, or a book, I did a Google search that included Double Indemnity and The A.B.C. Murders together. And that’s how I found your list.”