If someone is looking for inspiration to write mystery or crime fiction, New York City is a good place to find it. It’s impossible to live in the city and not at some point be the victim of a crime, witness a crime, or hear about a crime that happened to someone you know. Then of course, there is also the daily barrage of news reports about street crime, white collar crime, and let’s not leave out all the juicy political corruption, both financial and sexual. To watch the local TV news, listen to the radio, or read a newspaper is to see dozens of potential short stories and novel ideas thrown at your feet every day, like gold dust just waiting to be sifted through. This is the environment I grew up and lived in for much of my life. (Not including time spent in other parts of the country that had so little crime I was astounded by the peace and tranquility that local residents were forced to endure).
I’d like to tell you about the New York inspirations for two of my published mystery stories. The first is called, “You See But You Forget.” The story came about as the result of local news reports about the horrible conditions in buildings in some very poor neighborhoods in New York. Unfortunately, these reports are all too common. There are numerous tenement buildings owned by slumlords that subject their tenants to the most horrible conditions imaginable; chipping paint, leaking pipes, no hot water, insects, rodents and often, in the middle of winter, no heat.
The last one got me thinking. (I do that sometimes.) What if someone froze to death in one of those buildings? What if the victim was a much-loved older woman? What if her neighbor is a young man who finds her dead and is heartbroken about it? And what if he’s also angry and decides to, uh, let’s say, do something about it?
Curiously, the title of this story was also taken from a TV news report about another impoverished drug- and crime-infested neighborhood, but here the focus was on the high murder rate. A TV reporter asked a resident if he was a witness to any of these street crimes. The resident smiled then calmly explained the credo of the neighborhood. In one sentence he recounted the mantra of how the scared and defenseless innocent citizens endured daily assaults, robberies, and murders, yet managed to stay alive. In a single line he revealed how one avoided the deadly retaliation that comes to those who talk about what they have witnessed. “Yes,” he said to the reporter, “you see, but you forget.”
In sharp contrast, my other story, “The Bet,” is about two very wealthy Wall Street businessmen. One is in his early thirties and the other is in his mid-eighties. The story opens in a private club. Our two main characters are in a wood paneled room, where men in three-piece suits sit and read newspapers on leather wingback chairs that rest on antique rugs, not on their phones. The lighting is subdued, the air is heavy, and if people speak at all, it is in hushed tones. It’s in this world that the two men make a bet involving vast amounts of money and a violent crime.
I have been to a number of these clubs in real life (as a guest of course, so don’t ask me for a loan). I have also met men of this caliber. One such club I’ve visited is the National Arts Club on Gramercy Park. This club overlooks a tiny park surrounded by a tall wrought iron gate. The park is so private that, until recently only a few nearby homeowners and privileged residents were permitted to enter it. To do so required being in possession of a key, of which only 383 copies existed.
What was I doing at the National Arts Club? At one time it was where the local chapter of the MWA met. I remember the first time I entered that beautiful and historic building many years ago. It was like being transported back in time to the Gilded Age. A place right out of Henry James, with elegant mirrors, marble fireplaces, antique porcelain vases, crystal chandeliers, high ceilings and opulently framed paintings of distinguished club members (a number of whom were former U.S. Presidents) dating back over a hundred years. My first thought was, I wonder if anyone has ever been murdered here? Writers, you can’t take them anywhere.
—Marc Bilgrey
Originally published in Mystery Readers Journal, Vol. 32, No. 2 (Summer 2016)
Marc Bilgrey‘s numerous mystery and fantasy stories have been published in anthologies by Ace, DAW, Avon, Simon and Schuster, and others. His mystery short stories appear regularly in Sherlock Holmes Mystery Magazine. He is the author of two fantasy novels now available as ebooks from Amazon Kindle. He is currently writing a mystery novel set in New York.