Andrew Welsh-Huggins discusses some of the political inspiration behind his upcoming story featured in our [May/June issue, on sale mid-April!]
I love a mystery or thriller set in Washington D.C.’s halls of power as much as the next guy. From David Baldacci’s 1996 debut novel, Absolute Power, to Matthew Quirk’s more recent (2019) book, The Night Agent, nothing makes for propulsive reading like a high-stakes adventure with the fate of the nation in the balance.
Still, the District of Columbia doesn’t have a lock on political storylines. When seeking an arena rife with motives for murder and mayhem, consider mining state capitols, whose combination of influence peddling and deal-making easily conjure up Obi-Wan Kenobi’s Star Wars assessment of the Mos Eisley spaceport: “You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.”
I spent nearly a quarter century reporting for The Associated Press in Columbus, and a good chunk of that time involved coverage of the governor—five in my case—the state Legislature, the Ohio Supreme Court, and a multitude of state agencies and boards. Midway through my tenure, when I donned a cap as a fledging mystery writer, I had plenty of material on hand for my fiction.
While I included references to lobbyists and lawmakers in my first two books, I jumped in feet first with the third novel in my Andy Hayes private eye series, 2016’s Capitol Punishment. In that book, a reporter hires Hayes for protection after the journalist’s Statehouse exposés result in death threats. When Hayes drops the ball, the reporter ends up dead in the middle of the Statehouse rotunda—about as public a place to die as there is in Columbus. Blaming himself for the tragedy, Hayes finds himself deep in the weeds of all three political branches as he tries to unravel the mystery and save a candidate’s life to boot.
I next delved into this dangerous territory in my short story, “Going Places,” for the 2020 Columbus Noir anthology that I edited for Akashic Books. In that tale, even as the governor’s bodyguard spends his days keeping his boss’s extramarital affairs quiet, he embarks on his own illicit relationship with deadly results. Let’s just say, even though I haven’t covered a real Statehouse murder—yet—much of the story’s shenanigans had past and present precedent.
This brings me to “From Another Angle,” my latest Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine story in which I return Andy Hayes to the scene of the crime, so to speak. When the erratic behavior of a state representative on a key energy committee threatens to derail party priorities, Hayes is hired to figure out what’s going on. He’s reluctant to take the job because the mess he uncovered—and barely survived—in Capitol Punishment still haunts him. True to form, the secrets he unearths aren’t pretty.
Based on my reporting experience, as well as spinning those stories into (hopefully) fictional gold, I recommend state capitols as prime crime fiction real estate for three reasons:
It’s not national security, but the stakes are still high. Governors, state lawmakers, and state supreme court justices enact, approve, and review legislation that has a far greater impact on our daily lives than their Washington counterparts, from the quality of the roads we drive on, to the excellence of schools our children attend, to our ability to punish—and to reform—criminals. And behind every one of those bills is an army of lobbyists with powerful agendas.
Colorful characters abound. One recent Ohio governor delighted in calling California residents “wackadoodles.” A state lawmaker renowned for fiery floor speeches once opined on alternatives to lethal injection by saying: “We’ve got plenty of electric and plenty of rope.” Then there was the Ohio Supreme Court justice who declared on Facebook: “In the last fifty years I was sexually intimate with approximately 50 very attractive females.” No matter how preposterous you think one of your characters might be, trust me, she or he has a real-life legislative counterpart.
Relatable rascals. Although plenty of people have toured the U.S. Capitol and maybe can boast of meeting a president, far more have interacted with state lawmakers—either in their state capitol or at a district office—a boon to writers looking for a built-in audience. Even in these days of online access to hearings, the halls of the Ohio Statehouse are still crowded with citizens attending committee meetings, talking to their legislators, or just touring the gorgeous facilities their tax dollars paid for. State lawmakers can be just as aloof and corrupt as their Washington counterparts, but a lot of them still live next door.
There you have it: relevance, rich personalities, and relatability, all packaged in one central location. Let the (fun and) games begin!
Trace Evidence 