Tinker, Tailor, Coroner, Private Eye

If you had a chance to work in law enforcement, which area would see yourself in and why? The coroner’s office? Homicide division? Beat cop? Criminal psychologist? Private investigator? Defense attorney?

by Paul D. Marks

Of the list above, I know which I absolutely would not want to do: Defense attorney: Even Alan Dershowitz concedes that most defendants are guilty. And I couldn't defend a guilty party, especially because the tactics used by the defense are often despicable – particularly when they try to throw the blame on another clearly innocent party to confuse the issue and throw doubt on their often clearly guilty clients. I just could not defend a rapist or a murderer. So, no defense attorney for me. Maybe that’s why I wrote my story L.A. Late @ Night that appeared originally in Murder on Sunset Boulevard (and recently republished in a collection of my stories also called L.A. Late @ Night) about a defense attorney who has second thoughts when she realizes her client is guilty and decides to do something about it...

That leaves the rest of the list:

Coroner's office: Well, I've seen my fair share of blood and guts. That said, I'm also the kind of person who whenever they hear/see symptoms of a disease decides they have that disease. Which is why I can't watch shows like ER or Grey's Anatomy. I guess I can handle blood and guts to some extent, but not symptoms. I think this is what happens with medical students (so maybe I should have been a doctor). So, nope, coroner's office is kaput.






Homicide division: Now we're getting closer. The idea of solving cases and bringing the bad guys to justice strikes home with me. Yeah, I could do that. Third degree and all, with a new energy-saving bulb of course.






Beat cop: Nah. Dealing with all the bad and crazy people you'd have to deal with would make me nuts. And I'd probably end up in the hoosegow myself. That's sort of what my story 51-50, cop slang for crazy, is about. (Originally published in the Psycho Noir issue Dave Zeltserman's Hardluck Stories anthology, but now reprinted in the L.A. Late @ Night collection.)





Criminal psychologist: While psychology interests me, to deal with all those psychos would probably make me psycho and you'd have to have a gun with a hair trigger taped under your desk aiming straight at your client...just in case. Probably not a good way to begin a relationship.






Private investigator: Yeah, now you're talking. Bring the bad guys to justice. And you get to wear a trenchcoat and fedora and use words like gat and gunsel. And slap guys like eternal weasels Elisha Cook, Jr. and Peter Lorre around. Of course, you take your fair share of beatings too, so turnabout is fair play I guess. But still, gumshoe. Has a certain ring to it, doesn't it? Or P.I., private dick, private eye, shamus, Pinkerton or Continental Op. And though he's more modern, I hope Duke Rogers, my P.I. in White Heat, carries on their tradition with grace and gats. And you get to have an office in a romantically seedy building with the proverbial flashing neon sign outside the window and the perpetual pitter patter of rain on that window that looks out to the City of Angels. Oh, and here's a happy little ditty about our fair city: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b_8U93SvVyY



There's one element that was left off the list above: Prosecutor: Probably the best fit for me. A lot of people that have known me through the years say I should have been a lawyer (though I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not...),. I like the idea of being a litigator 'cause I love a good fight. Corporate law, nah. Criminal law, the D.A.'s office, sure. Being able to put the bad guys away, to argue a case. To logically prove a guilty party guilty. Prosecutor would be a good fit for me. But if I chose that route could I still wear the trenchcoat and fedora?

The Best of Times – The Worst of Times – The Same Time

What is your best experience at a mystery convention? Your worst?

By Paul D. Marks

Coming on as the cleanup hitter on Fridays has its challenges in that sometimes people who come before and answer the questions earlier in the week beat you to the punch.  As happened this week with the title of my blog and Clare's, which I'd already written before seeing hers.  All I can say is great minds think alike...

Hope this isn't too egotistical, but since you asked:

It was the best of times...

Well, I have to say my best experience at a mystery convention was at Bouchercon last September (2013) in Albany, New York. Every year the Private Eye Writers of America Shamus Awards banquet is held in the same location as Bouchercon. And since I was nominated for a Shamus, my wife, Amy, and I decided to go to the convention.

Now Albany is about the last place I ever thought I would want to go. But being troopers, we made reservations for the convention, hotel and plane and were soon on our way.



Albany architecture

We were in Albany about 2-3 days before the Shamus banquet, and besides attending Bouchercon and being on a panel (which was fun), meeting new people and hooking up with old friends, we took some time to explore Albany. And even before I knew if I'd won or lost the award, I told Amy how much I liked Albany. It was a typical, quaint-ish New England town, despite the fact that it's the state capital of New York.

We had dinner at Jack’s Oyster House, where the likes of both presidents Roosevelt ate, along with Hillary Clinton, JFK, jr. many governors of NY and gangster Legs Diamond, though not all at the same time, of course. Also William Kennedy, the renowned novelist from Albany.

And, Albany is always the place the folks on Law & Order dread going when they have to appear before the state supreme court.



New York State Capital

The people of Albany were friendly and since the convention was in September the weather was very pleasant. Not sure I'd want to be there during the humidity of summer or the snows of hardcore winter.

The fact that I did win the award was the icing on the cake and made me like Albany even more. So it was the best of times.





It was the worst of times....

My worst convention experience: The Shamus Banquet in Albany, NY.

Why? In the weeks leading up to the trip, on the plane, in the hotel, in the couple days before the banquet, I was as cool as cool can be. Not nervous, not uptight. Didn't know if I'd win or lose the award. But either way, I was fine.

So we go to the Shamus banquet on Friday night, and we're sitting at our table, talking with Alison Gaylin, another nominee (and winner) in a different category, her husband and the other people at the table. And everything is ducky. I'm still cool as the proverbial cucumber.

The awards begin. My category comes up.......my name is announced. I get up from our table, in the back of the room, and walk to the front and up onto the stage. By the time it comes for me to give my little acceptance speech I'm a wreck – in just that short walk, the nerves finally kicked in. I had a little speech all worked out, even written, and I blew everything, mumbling and stumbling over my words.

Felt like a fool. I'm pretty good at speaking, don't get nervous, have things to say, but this was so out of the ordinary, I just wiped out.

Afterwards I was talking to Hank Phillippi Ryan, though I'm not sure she would remember. I said I felt like a fool and she said the best thing anyone could say: "All they'll remember is that you won."

Sounds good to me. The worst of times...but still the best.

With my Shamus Award ( and the old White Heat cover)