The Golden Triangle (A Short Story)

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION

The Golden Triangle

 

A young woman in her early-30s attempts to reach out to a friend in Minneapolis whom she’d been visiting the week before. She accidentally connects with some old guy in Duluth. For some strange and improbable reason, they keep chatting. 

As it turns out he’s a writer, she’s a high-end, international jewelry dealer from Hong Kong, now living in L.A.

 

As they talk, they discover that each shares a common dream: Is there any possible way that one person alone could solve all the problems in the world? How much can one person accomplish if they have unlimited resources and a half century to do it in?

* * * 

 

Here's one possibility of how it plays out on the silver screen.

The movie opens with the Hong Kong woman, now very old, receiving a Nobel Peace Prize. In her acceptance speech, or maybe it's a press conference, she acknowledges someone who opened her eyes to the possibilities and responsibilities that come with wealth. 

 

As the movie’s opening credits finish rolliing, she is young again and the story begins.

 

It’s an amazing story because together they rally the human race to work together, to put an end to poverty, hate, violence, etc.  

 

* * * 

 

In an alternate version, he’s the billionaire. He's also a retired secret agent, and she is the creation of an A.I., with intentions initially unclear. As it turns out, the contact wasn't an accident at all but a ruse. He's an avid art collector. The AI's objective is to acquire his two Vermeers and a set of original Da Vinci sketches that no one knows about, but which the AI discovered by deconstructing the details of his life. The Vermeers both turn out to be fakes. The sketches are anatomical studies, both delicate and daring. 

Tension in the story is generated by the AI's quest to carry out the art heist without a body. The backstory question is this: did the AI initiate the heist on its own? 

Should the crime be solved by an AI detective, an AI version of Columbo or an algorithmic Hercule Poirot? 

   

Elephants Can Remember: Agatha Christie's Last Hercule Poirot Novel

Was it suicide or was it murder? That is the question at the heart of this Agatha Christie novel about memory and the influence of the past. More than once the saying "past sins cast long shadows" is noted. 

Elephants Can Remember is striking in the manner in which it is written. It's told in a series of dialogues that take place in various situations. I can't help but think of Erle Stanley Gardner's Perry Mason dramas in which descriptions are sparse, story details emerging via dialogue.

The two main characters in this story are Hercule Poirot--that odd little Belgian with a singular mustache and an abundance of brain matter ("little grey cells") that is perpetually in motion--and Ariadne Oliver, a famous author of murder mysteries, who says she has no idea how murders take place in real life, that her works are simply fiction.

The central event in this story involves the deaths of an apparently happy husband and wife about 15 years earlier. They were found on a hillside near their home shot with a gun that lay between them, the only fingerprints present being their own. Did he kill her, then take his life in remorse? Or did she shoot him first? Did they agree to die together like this or was something else at play.

The Ravenscrofts had a daughter Celia, who was Mrs. Oliver's goddaughter. Celia, somewhat rudely to Mrs. Oliver's thinking, asks Mrs. Oliver to help her. Celia is about to marry a man, but rumors of mental illness in the family were stirring up concerns, and this double death on a hillside was never properly resolved. Mrs. Oliver turns to Poirot and the two set about to see what the elephants can remember.

The story is especially fascinating to me after having read Ishiguro's Never Let Me Go this summer, which is essentially a story made of memories. Insights from later in life illuminate earlier moments and give them new meaning. 

Painting by Ms. Wendy Rouse

Agatha Christie had been publishing for more than half a century when she wrote this, and was purportedly experiencing the onset of dementia at the time. This undoubtedly contributed to her interest in the subject of memory. It may also have contributed to the writing style which some Amazon reviewers  criticized sharply. One call it her worst book and says, "Skip it." Another says, "Stick with her earlier books." Yet others say, "Don't miss this one."

Ironically, I have found it exceedingly compelling. And I like the set up. A writer of murder mysteries teams up with the greatest contemporary sleuth to solve a long forgotten mystery. 

Each person they talk with reveals new details about the Ravenscrofts, thereby patching together an image in the reader's mind. But which details are accurate? How much is true and how much is rumor? Aren't we all subject to partially flawed memories because of our biases, our tendency to incorrectly interpret stories we heard, or question their veracity?

I remember a kid on our block when I was growing up who tortured grasshoppers and seemed like a troublemaker. A year or two after he moved away a rumor circulated that he'd been killed because he was sticking his head out the window of a school bus which got too close to a telephone pole. What stuck with me from the story was that he was told not to stick his head out the window like that. 

In retrospect, the story doesn't seem credible, but we believed it, perhaps because it seemed consistent with his character. (Wouldn't the rear-view mirror hit the pole before something sticking from the window? Wouldn't the bus have to be over the curb for that to happen?) Alas, we did not have Snopes in the 60s and here's what Snopes has to say about a similar urban legend.

I should mention here that I am "reading" audio books from the library, and they are a special joy in part because of the readers. I love the way Poirot says "Ah!" -- or rather, the reader has Poirot say "Ah" with a delightfully crisp little puff. The pacing feels peaceful and reflective. It's been a good read.

Related Links

A New Thought Regarding Agatha Christie's Crime Fiction
Shooting an Elephant (Notes on an Essay by Orwell)

A New Thought Regarding Agatha Christie's Crime Stories

Many years ago I had a friend who was going through an Agatha Christie binge. Actually, both he and his wife were thoroughly absorbed in reading her crime novels, ever trying to solve the crimes before Miss Marple or the little grey cells of Hercule Poirot could. 

At the time, I was involved in other pursuits, reading “serious literature” in preparation for a writing career. I can’t lay all the blame on Covid, but my reading in 2020 has included a long list of books from the John Sanford and Agatha Christie catalogs. In reading the latter, something dawned on me that I hadn’t noticed before.

“Ah, my friend, one may live in a big house and yet have no comfort.” — Hercule Poirot

How many of you grew up in a home with maids and butlers? As I reflect on the numerous Christie stories I’ve read, I can’t seem to recall any involving a family like my own. In addition to murders taking place in exotic places, such as the Nile or on the Orient Express, we have countless stories of people with wealth, whose servants are under suspicion, or who have both city and country homes. 

I can only guess that part of the appeal of her work may have been the voyeuristic aspect of peeking in on the lifestyles of the rich and, sometimes, famous. It was easy for her to write accurately about this lifestyle, for it was the lifestyle she was acquainted with. She didn’t have to make it up. In her autobiography she states that she herself grew up with three servants in her household.

“Servants, of course, were not a particular luxury–it was not a case of only the rich having them; the only difference was that the rich had more,” she wrote in her autobiography. 

This is a very different set of life circumstances than my father’s grandparents were experiencing in Eastern Kentucky at the time. (Agatha Christie was born in 1890.) They were illiterate and poor, but resourceful, scratching out a livelihood halfway up the side of a mountain, and even being generous.

Yet, even growing up with a nurse and nanny, Ms. Christie claims that her family was not rich. Rich people had cars. Her family did not. 

Two other areas of expertise show up in her stories. When it comes to poisons, her knowledge is vast. That is, the more stories you read, it’s surprising how many ways to poison people there are. She gained this knowledge first hand. No, not first hand by poisoning people, but by working in a dispensary during the two world wars. 

Another area of specialized knowledge came from marrying an archaeologist in 1930. While her second husband was actively exploring digs in the Middle East, she was no doubt picking his brain and digging for details that would give veracity to her murders in Egypt and elsewhere. 

She’s to be commended for her tenacity. Her first six books were rejected by publishers. Nevertheless, she persisted despite the lack of interest from editors, until a door opened in 1920 and “the rest is history.” She became a master of the craft. One title alone, And Then There Were None, sold 100 million copies worldwide.

If these are not new thoughts for you, then I suppose I'm just late to the parade. One of the first bits of advice that young writers are frequently given is this: Write about what you know. This may be why you don't find butlers and housemaids in my stories. More often than not it's just a character trying to figure out the meaning of his life.

* * * 

Case of the Gilded Lily

Why are mysteries so fascinating?

One of the most popular shows on television today is CSI, a.k.a. Crime Scene Investigation. Essentially, it’s about the realities involved in solving murders. Though I’ve never seen the show, I know it must be popular because it’s on nearly every night of the week now.

CSI is, of course, only the latest in a long line of mystery, whodunit types of stories stretching back who knows how far. I remember conversations with my grandmother about the mysteries of the Great Pyramid and all the questions it raised. The Greek historian Herodotus wrote about it twenty-five hundred years ago and it is still unearthing unresolved questions to this day.

What is it about mysteries and puzzles that gets us so engaged? In the realm of literature Edgar Allen Poe made his mark with mysteries such as The Gold Bug and Murders in the Rue Morgue. Suddenly, a genre was born. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes was all about solving imponderables with a searing brilliance. G.K.Chesterton’s Father Brown was a contemporary to Holmes with an equally rabid following. Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot became a household name through the murder mystery genre as well.

When television culture emerged the short mystery tale became a staple in the nation’s diet for diversion. The Rockford Files, Columbo, Murder She Wrote… The shows made for good fun as audiences attempted to solve the crimes faster than their heroes.

With regard to solving murders the literary character, and television show, that most strikes a chord with me is the one and only Perry Mason, created by Erle Stanley Gardner and later played by Raymond Burr. Having just watched five episodes (on DVD) of Perry Mason Season 1, it’s easy to see why this was such compelling television back in its day.

There were probably two things that made Erle Stanley Gardner’s books so engaging. First was the air of authenticity in the manuscripts. Gardner himself had been a trial lawyer. He did not have to research courtroom proceedings as a journalist. He lived them. His pugnacious hero Perry Mason no doubt mirrored his own real and imagined courtroom achievements. Second, his terse contemporary writing style continuously moved his stories forward. He didn’t waste time on tedious backgrounds and family histories. The books strode through the story, both revealing and concealing, leaving the reader illuminated yet in the dark as Perry Mason persisted through to victory, and victory again.

The Mason team included his personal detective Drake, and the ever efficient Della Street who provided a perfect counterweight to the granite and steel Mason. Raymond Burr brought Perry Mason to life ever so perfectly, the tough yet considerate counsel, who never seems to lose his cool, or his client’s case.

Erle Stanley Gardner’s own story is especially inspiring for young writers because he purportedly never published his first novel till in his forties, yet completed 82 Perry Mason novels before passing on. Yes, he had been writing pulp fiction for years before “making it” so it is not like something magical happened overnight. As was recently pointed out somewhere else, the only place where Success comes before Work is in the dictionary. Gardner paid his dues before reaping his rewards.

Mysteries, puzzles, mind games, concealed identities, disguises, surveillance, cryptography, encryption and decryption, decoding secret messages… these diversions can become almost obsessive at times. But they sharpen our minds by teaching us how to observe better, how to gather information and “see” in new ways. Applied thinking and problem solving are valuable skill sets in the real world. Leaders need these skills, and strive to develop them in others. Whether in the workplace, the community or the home, we really don't want or need a nation of sheep.

But let’s save that discussion for another time and give our attention to… The Case of the Jaded Jogger. Was it suicide, or was it murder?