Of all my varied and ruthless efforts to uncover 10 Silly Things You Didn’t Know About our varied and ruthless Canadian Crime Writers, this next was perhaps the one I dreaded the most.
Dread made my hair fall out...and turn orange...and ruined my teeth...my nose, however, has always been that colour
From the moment I first heard of Lou Allin, I knew he was hiding something. It was so obvious that the name was a fake. Lou and Allin, two of the most common first names, pulled into duty, as if in dire hope that their very commonness would keep suspicion at bay. But ‘Lou’ hadn’t counted on me. Just the sound of the unlikely name, ”Lou Allin’ set bells in my head a-clanging (well, worse than usual). He might as well have called himself Fred Henry or Cher Gaga.
I SEEEEEEEEEE you, 'Lou Allin'!
I was instantly on high alert. ‘Lou Allin’ was going to be a slippery one. What was he hiding? And why? And did I have the fortitude, the bravery, the cajones to go the distance and uncover the untellable.
Uh, sure. Yeah. I do. Uh huh.
First I had to find him. The only clue I had to work with were his books. Lou Allin had written two series. The Belle Palmer series features a realtor and her German shepherd, Freya.
Murder, Eh? A Belle Palmer Mystery
Rumour had it that these books were written after “Lou Allin’ escaped the US, on the run from infamy. Apparently, he finally found temporary sanctuary in some place referred to (in secret comunications with friends) as The Nickel Capital.
I pulled out my handy garage sale globe and a magnifying glass and began scouring the world for a place called Nickel. Once I found Nickel, I figured it shouldn’t be too hard to determine its capital. And once I located the capital, I would find the elusive ‘Lou Allin’.
Research always makes me thirsty.
Many days passed in this pursuit. It’s true, my personal grooming suffered…
...but I always managed to put on a nice, clean shirt.
I was determined that Lou Allin would not best me. I would find him! And when I did, I would pull away the filmy drapery that hid his cracked window for all to see through!
That's right 'Lou Allin', I seeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee you!
Unfortunately, the only place on my globe called Nickel was a small hamlet in Southern USSR. Damn Air Canada had no direct flights. They used some flimsy excuse, like, “Well, sir, there is no USSR anymore”. Oh yeah, sure, good one.
So, I found it on my own.
I interviewed all the residents of Nickel, USSR, demanding to see all their documents at the same time (just for the hell of it)
Alas, there was no comrade pretending to be ’Lou Allin’. But, as luck would have it, I ran into a mysterious woman named Marlene who told me she once shared a bottle of plummy, dark amarone with ‘Lou Allin’.
The mysterious smoking woman in Nickel
She also told me I’d have more luck searching the Canadian Carribean where ”Lou Allin’ – obviously still on the run – had recently relocated and begun a new series starring RCMP corporal Holly Martin:
and on the surface DIE
She Felt No Pain
Oh yeah! The Canadian Caribbean. SCORE!!!! Off I went.
We almost made it right to the beach...
Once I'd dined on a whale blubber enchilada and a margarita, I headed out to find my so-called 'Lou Allin'...
I got 'im! Hollywood paparazzi have nothing on me! I could see the headlines: "Lou Allin' caught on film in the Canadian Caribbean!
I breathlessly ran to the nearest pharmacy to get the film developed.
But oh no!
Still working on the grooming thing.
Instead of the wily imposter ‘Lou Allin’, I’d taken a photo of a rather lovely lady who was harmlessly playing with her dog on the Canadian Caribbean beach:
Woman on the beach
I quickly ran back to find her, hoping she’d know something. Well, my days of being shocked were not quite over. The lady insisted that SHE was Lou Allin and showed me her drivers license to prove it:
Oddly enough, Lou Allin's drivers license photo includes her dogs
I started to back away slowly. But she followed and insisted on telling me:
10 Silly Things You Didn’t Know About Canadian Crime Writer Lou Allin (or whoever that woman on the beach really was)
1. If you could invite any famous person, dead or alive, for dinner, what would you serve?
Anyone who reads my books knows I’m a classic film fan. When I was fifteen, twenty-five, and thirty-five, I would have invited Garbo. In my more golden years, Marlene Dietrich seems a better choice. Not only did she stand up for her convictions by touring for the Allied troops, but she was also a terrific cook. With some Schubert lieder on the CD, we’d start with Fanny Bay oysters and Sumac Ridge sparkling wine from British Columbia. Then some hlodnik, a beet soup with tiny shrimp from the Strait of Juan de Fuca. After that, time for rosemary-marinated boneless leg of lamb on the barbie (served
with fresh mint sauce), risotto, and roasted anise bulb as we watch the cruise ships pass. For the wine, a plummy and dark amarone. The finishing touch and a tribute to my mother would be cherry pie with a tender and flaky lard crust. After dinner, espresso and a tot of Cabo Wabo anejo tequila.
2. Who do you think you are?
My students in Public Squeaking used to call me Li’l Hitler. Other than
that, I’m a Northerner living in Canada’s Caribbean. How many people have spent most of their lives in Cleveland and Sudbury?
3. What’s your problem?
I should have started this writing stuff in my twenties. Like a fool, I
collected useless English degrees and read other people’s novels.
4. The Canadian crime writer. Myth or mystery?
The Canadian crime writer without another job is a myth for sure. That any Canadian is a crime writer at all is one of life’s greatest mysteries. It must be the seven months of winter or the Public Lending Rights subsidies.
5. If you could change one thing about any of your books, what would it be?
I’d make Belle Palmer a thirty-two-year-old detective. Much more fun than selling real estate.
6. When no one is looking, what is your guilty pleasure?
Eating raw pie dough.
7. If you could have one wish, who would you give it up to?
My mini-poodle Friday, aka Strudel the Bush Poodle. She’s only eight, but she’s losing her vision to retinal atrophy. On second thought, she’s a tough old girl so loyal that she wouldn’t take the wish from me.
8. When you wake up in the morning, what celebrity do you most resemble?
Marie Dressler? Might as well stay Canadian.
9. What’s the most Canadian thing about you?
I had my DNA done and the two largest segments were Finnish and Pakistani.
Mixed in are tinctures of Swedish, Dutch, German, Celt, Western Australian European-Aboriginal, and Thracian. I am the soul of multiculturalism.
10. Do you have anything you’d like to plug?
I’d like to plug my best book with the best title but the worst cover.
Murder, Eh? Over one thousand copies are still in our warehouses. For nearly a year, a back injury forced me to plot all afternoon in order to sit at the computer for ten minutes. Afterwards, I returned to my lazy ways.
And as an extra treat, Lou answered one more question:
11. What crime have you committed that no one knows about?
When I was ten, I was playing in a graveyard on the Old Kingston Road in Toronto. I climbed up an obelisk and grabbed a huge cement ball at the top.
It came off in my hands, and down I fell, with that fifty-pound ball landing whomp like a cannon shot beside my head. In tears, I rode my bike back to my Aunt Belle’s, who didn’t turn me in. My mother would have. She was a Vice Principal. That’s why I used Aunt Belle’s name for my lead character and why in every book, my mother is either dead or missing. Is this too dark? I did love my mother, and I “talk” to her every night. She promised that she would haunt me if I didn’t play Onward, Christian Soldiers on my trumpet after her
passing. I did, and she hasn’t.
Come back on Monday, August 2nd to learn 10 Silly Things You Didn’t Know About Canadian Crime Writer Robin Harlick.
