Writing Mysteries: Tie the Murder to the Setting

One of the best Murdoch Mysteries episodes occurs in Season 11, "The Accident."

It guest-stars Canadian David Hewlett, which is definitely a draw. It is also impressively well-written. The case revolves around a seeming traffic accident that turns out to be planned. 

The incident provides historical context and events particular to the early twentieth century as well as events that strike a human cord. Accidents have always been accidents.

In addition, the incident and the guest star are linked. Even better, from a writing point of view, the incident and guest star and mystery are linked. 

A little pontificating takes place, but it is (for once) historically accurate. People complained a great deal about traffic problems, even before the automobile was invented. And Murdoch thankfully doesn't come up with traffic lights on the spot. Generally, I find Murdoch's surprisingly familiar inventions to be cute and amusing. However, they can distract. "The Accident" is tightly constructed. 

Murdoch and Watts investigate. All other characters play their parts and act in accordance with their natures. 

The skillful link between setting and murder impressed me most. 

In comparison, one of the strangest Columbo episodes is "Caution: Murder Can Be Hazardous to Your Health." The setting is an America's Most Wanted-type show, hosted by Columbo alumnus, George Hamilton. 

And yet the murder has absolutely nothing to do with the show. 

The murder is related to the title--but the title feels like an add-on, like some intelligent producer said, "Uh, I think we need to connect the murder to something." 

The supposed grudge by the victim, which leads to blackmail, which leads to murder, etc. etc., is over the show; the victim argues that George Hamilton's character stole his role of host. But because the show over which the leads compete is barely involved in the planning or execution of the murder (and used offhandedly for the final confrontation), it could be anything: a cooking show, a show about bunnies, a documentary on aspirin. It hardly matters. 

The America's Most Wanted connection isn't used as an alibi. For that, the murderer uses his personal office. The America's Most Wanted connection isn't used to set up a scapegoat. A crime article is planted by the murderer, but, again, he could have planted an article about diseased bunnies. It hardly matters.

In comparison, just about any episode starring Patrick McGoohan connects the murderer, murder spot, and murderer's plan to the context, possibly because McGoohan directed many of the episodes (and revised some of the scripts): a military leader of a school uses a cannon and blames a student; an undertaker doubles up bodies in a crematorium--in addition, he is covering up that he stole from corpses.

Good writing will tie location to motive and murder. Real life may be more random. But reality appears more deliberate. So should fiction.