The courtroom scene from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland is
pure farce, and nobody would believe it. So why do television viewers believe
crime shows that are almost as outlandish? And why do they expect me to
perpetuate the fallacies in my own work?
I am currently writing a murder mystery with two parallel threads, one
of which is a police procedural. I have done extensive research into those
procedures and am trying to portray them accurately in the manuscript. However,
I keep running up against critiquers who say, “but they don’t do it that way on
TV (or in books).” And they give me the impression that my readers won’t
believe me if I tell the truth. So what’s a writer to do?
In some cases, I’m dealing with the issue by being vague. Do the police
really need a warrant or subpoena to see a murder victim’s financial records? I
did an internet search and everything I came across discussed access to the
suspect’s records, not the victim’s. Financial records aren’t crucial to the
murder in my book, but I’m concerned that some readers may stop reading if they
don’t see the procedures they have come to expect from TV. So when the
detectives talk to the victim’s attorney, I wrote the passage this way:
Staci wrote down the
information [about the value of the victim’s estate]. “Please give us her
accountant’s contact information so we can review her finances.”
“I’ll email it to
you,” Mr. Hunter said. “And when I talk to her daughter, I’ll ask if she’ll
give permission for you to go through the records.”
Since those records
belonged to a murder victim rather than a suspect, the police wouldn’t have any
trouble getting them. Still, the process was always easier if the family
cooperated.
Then, when Mr. Hunter
talks to the victim’s daughter, he says this:
“The police will want
to go through your mother’s financial records. Sometimes family members think
of it as an intrusion, but the police will get the information with or without
your consent. It looks better if you cooperate.”
Hopefully these passages will satisfy the reader while being vague
enough to include the real facts.
Another way to deal with the issue is to explain the seeming inconsistency.
For example, on TV shows the detectives always seem to be present at a lineup.
I’m setting my story in Chicago, and the Chicago Police Department procedures
absolutely prohibit that. So while the suspect is participating in a lineup, my
detectives are at their own desks. Here is the way I explain that:
Although Staci would
have liked to watch, it wasn’t possible. Under departmental policy, members of
the investigative team weren’t allowed to attend a lineup. Even the detective
who ran it couldn’t know who the suspect was. That way, nobody would say or do
anything, intentionally or unintentionally, that would suggest who the witness
should identify.
Of course, this approach creates several challenges. The explanation
has to be short but, more importantly, it must blend into the story and advance
the plot. If it interrupts the flow or reads like filler, it is better to leave
the explanation out altogether.
Another challenge is describing matters my POV character doesn’t
witness. I usually resolve this problem by having someone who was there tell Staci
what happened. Or, as in the case of the lineup, she imagines what would have
happened based on her knowledge of the procedures, after which somebody comes
and tells her that the witness did identify the suspect.
From Dust to Dust will
go through more drafts before it is completed, and these passages may change.
But I refuse to sacrifice accuracy for reader expectations.
__________
The image at the head of this post is one of John Tenniel’s original
illustrations for Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. It is in the public
domain because of its age.
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