Matching Pipe to Psychopath

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: One of my favorite things in the world to say is: Reds and readers, here is Tracy Clark!

Tracy, as you well know, is a long time and fabulous friend of the Reds, and she is one of the most fascinating people ever. And an incredibly talented writer. AND her main character is named Harriet, as am I, so that has also rendered her to me forever.

The newest Detective Harriet Foster books is ECHO, and it is out right now, and more on that below.

But back to how Tracy’s mind works. Herewith: a look inside.

O drainpipe! My drainpipe! (Hat tip to Walt Whitman.)

By Tracy Clark

I have a drainpipe. Wait, let me back up. I don’t actually own a drainpipe, I’ve just laid claim to one, and it’s a beaut.

Here’s the history.

I got one of those always-comes-at-the-busiest time emissions notices in the mail letting me know my car was due for testing, or else a big arm would swoop down out of the sky and pluck my vehicle up and sling it into Lake Michigan. Needless to say, it wasn’t happy mail. An emissions notice is about as welcome as a jury summons.

Duty-bound, I took the car in, though the nearest testing facility is miles away from where I live, out in the middle of nowhere, practically. Coming out of the place, obligation met, that’s when I spotted it. The drainpipe. It was just sitting there at the side of the gravel road, as bold as you please. I stopped my car. I got out. I marveled at the drainpipe. My imagination grew wings.

The pipe is about the size a body might fit in, I thought, as others summoned for emissions tests passed me by, giving me curious glances. No matter. Crime writers get curious looks all the time as we skulk around town poking our heads into places they don’t belong. How else are we going to find the perfect spots to drop fictional bodies?

All rusted and solitary, with a couple of inches of gunky water at the bottom, the pipe looked as though no city worker had touched it since Old Man Daley ruled the roost from the fifth floor of City Hall. Perfect.

I grinned like a mad scientist at the dirty old drainpipe as I thought of all the things I could do with it, fiction-wise. Looking around, I noticed a few streetlights and wondered how many would actually work once the sun went down. There were also security cameras outside the testing facility, which likely meant somebody somewhere had footage of me standing in front of the pipe, eyes wide and mouth agape. There’s also probably tape of me taking photos of the pipe (click, click), but let them go ahead and send it to the cops. I’m pretty sure I can talk myself out of a trespassing rap.

It's funny how an out-of-the-way place can spark an idea and set a mood. I’d bet you good money thousands of regular people passed that pipe a bazillion times and never gave it a second thought. I saw it once, and I haven’t forgotten about it since.

Why? Because where writers set a story is as important as what the story’s about. How creepy would Stephen King’s The Shining have been if he’d set it in a small B&B off Redondo Beach on Fourth of July weekend?

The right setting is important, vital even to good storytelling. I write crime. Dark, gritty, out-of-the-way places work for me. Behold the drainpipe!

Since my fortuitous discovery, I’ve thought about how to use my drainpipe and, more importantly, about what kind of killer would stoop so low as to cram a body into such an inhospitable place. I’ve written a couple of books since finding my treasure, but neither story seemed right for the pipe, and I don’t want to just shoehorn it in. My drainpipe deserves better than that, and I can likely only use it once.

I need the right story, the right killer, and when I find them, boy, is it gonna be great. A lot will have to go into this, though. The killers I’ve written about so far have had other priorities and other kinks. Pipes weren’t on their dance cards. Once I create my twisted killer, then I’ll have to figure out their motivation. I mean, why pipes and not, oh, I don’t know, treehouses or car trunks?

Is the pipe simple expedience, or is it something more?

Then comes atmosphere. I think I can do better than a gravel road. I Googled drainpipes (don’t judge) and found a few that were creepily concealed by rocks and mossy leaves. I think I can take my pipe and zhuzh it up a bit. Writers zhuzh all the time, taking something real and dialing it up a notch or two.

Anyway, that’s my current challenge. Matching pipe to psychopath, taking what’s real and making it more real, starting with something creepy and adding more creep to it for book thrills. I know my assignment, and I am ready for opportunity to knock.

Side note: I didn’t crawl into the drainpipe with a flashlight like Nancy Drew. I know some writers who would have, though. (You crazy kids know who you are. Props!) Nope, I got enough from looking at the pipe to imagine the mysteries it could hold. My brain will do the rest.

So, if you read one of my books and come across a scene where there’s a body stuffed in a drainpipe, just know that’s my pipe. You can also be assured that as I wrote that scene there was a satisfied grin on my face.

Meanwhile, back at this writer’s ranch, I just got a summons for jury duty. Ugh. I’m not looking forward to that so much, but you never know what hidden gem I might pass on my way to the courthouse.

Wish me luck.

HANK: Oh, Tracy, I think jury duty is destined to bring you a life-changing story idea! And as the wife of a criminal defense attorney, I am especially grateful when smart and thoughtful people agree to be on juries.Someone will really thank you for this.

Reds and Readers, how do you feel about jury duty?

   

Tracy Clark is the author of ECHO (December 3, 2024; Thomas and Mercer) the third novel in the Detective Harriet Foster police procedural series. She is also author of the Cass Raines PI series (Kensington Books), a two-time Sue Grafton Memorial Award-winning author, the 2024 Anthony Award-winner for Best Paperback Original, the 2024 Lefty Award-winner for Best Mystery and the 2022 winner of the Sara Paretsky Award. She is a board member-at-large of Sisters in Crime, Chicagoland and a member of International Thriller Writers, and serves on the boards of Mystery Writers of America Chicago and the Midwest Mystery Conference. You can visit her online at tracyclarkbooks.com.

 

ECHO (December 3, 2024; Thomas and Mercer):

From the award-winning author of Hide and Fall comes a taut tale of renegade justice and long-awaited resolution, bringing the thrilling Detective Harriet Foster series to a heart-stopping conclusion.


Hardwicke House, home to Belverton College’s exclusive Minotaur Society, is no stranger to tragedy. And when a body turns up in the field next to the mansion, the scene looks chillingly familiar.


Chicago PD sends hard-nosed Detective Harriet “Harri” Foster to investigate. The victim is Brice Collier, a wealthy Belverton student, whose billionaire father, Sebastian, owns Hardwicke and ranks as a major school benefactor. Sebastian also has ties to the mansion’s notorious past, when thirty years ago, hazing led to a student’s death in the very same field.


Could the deaths be connected? With no suspects or leads, Harri and her partner, Detective Vera Li, will have to dig deep to find answers. No charges were ever filed in the first case, and this time, Harri’s determined the killer must pay. But still grieving her former partner’s death, Harri must also contend with a shadowy figure called the voice—and their dangerous game of cat and mouse could threaten everything.