Producing fiction for Irish children is something that I find very satisfying, and I loved writing this story. And yet The Case of the Vanishing Painting is a book that I never planned to write. Sometimes, though, it’s good to be taken out of your comfort zone – both as an author, and, indeed, in life in general. The person who challenged me to leave my comfort zone was the late Michael O’Brien, my much-missed publisher.
I had written eleven novels for O’Brien Press, all of them historical fiction for younger readers, and the formula that evolved had worked well. What I normally did was to place my fictitious characters in the midst of some turbulent event – say the 1916 Rising, or the War of Independence, or the 1913 Lockout – and follow their adventures as their lives were affected by the dramas taking place around them.
However, I was always at pains to point out that I wasn’t writing history books. These were adventure stories, with everything seen through the eyes of the children, and with the historical events unfolding in the background. It was an approach that was effective, and as a storyteller, I had the comfort of knowing that any time the plot needed an injection of excitement I could embroil my characters in the dramas that were upending their world. So when it was suggested that I write a mystery novel, where there would be no major background event to help to drive the plot, I felt it would be a challenge. But a challenge worth taking on.
It was agreed that I would retain the period setting that my readers seemed to enjoy, but this time there would be no historical upheaval. The mystery, and the adventures surrounding it, would have to hold the reader. After a lot of thought I opted for setting the story in the Dublin of 1911 – far back enough in time to allow for the atmospheric setting of steam trains, cobbled streets, and horse-drawn carriages, but before the turmoil caused by the coming First World War, the Rising, and the War of Independence.
1911 was also the year in which a National Census was held, so there was a lot of information available that was useful in recreating the feel of the period. Before beginning to write a novel, I like to immerse myself in the era. I read old newspapers, look at old photographs, and listen to the popular music of the time, always on the look-out for ways to add to the period flavour of the novel. For example, when planning The Case of the Vanishing Painting, I discovered that W.S. Gilbert, who wrote the lyrics for the hugely popular Gilbert and Sullivan operettas, died the week before my story opened. So, I decided to bring that into the book, and have my young adventurers sing one of his songs at a local concert.
All of this, however, was before I began the actual writing of the story, and this was where the biggest challenge of all arose. Because if you’re going to produce a full-length mystery novel, you need to come up with a good mystery. After wracking my brains, and toying with various ideas, I decided to go for a variation on the locked-room mystery. Except in my story it isn’t a locked room, it’s a locked carriage on the Galway to Dublin train. When the train leaves Galway it contains a valuable painting, yet when the train arrives in Dublin the painting has somehow been stolen. How could that possibly happen? That’s the mystery that Joe, Deirdre, and Tim, our three amateur detectives, have to solve.
To heighten the drama, I decided that for Deirdre and Tim this is not just a Sherlock Holmes-type adventure – their father is the guard on the train, and is therefore treated by the police as a prime suspect. Deirdre, Joe, and Tim started off as figments of my imagination, but as I fleshed out their back stories and developed their personalities in writing the book, they took on a life of their own. They also turned out to be smarter than I had originally planned. So when, quite early in the book, they came up with an answer to the riddle of how the theft was accomplished, I had a big decision to make. Would I go with the bold plot move of solving the locked carriage part of the mystery so early on? Yes, I thought, this is what the characters demanded.
Having taken this decision, it meant that in the rest of the story they would use their detective skills to try to unmask the real thief. This allowed for a cat and mouse battle of wits, as well as an opportunity for some fun and games along the way – until the adventure suddenly became dangerous, and at the end they found themselves fighting not just to clear an innocent man, but for their very lives.
And how did the thief manage to steal the painting when the carriage was locked? Sorry, but to find that out you’ll have to read the book! And if you enjoy the company of Deirdre, Tim, and Joe, you can join them again next year with the publication of the second book in the series, The Case of the Missing Daughter. Till then, happy reading.
(c) Brian Gallagher
About The Case of the Vanishing Painting by Brian Gallagher:
A valuable painting leaves Galway in a guarded carriage. When the train arrives in Dublin, the painting is gone, and the train’s guard is suspected. Twins Deirdre and Tim know their father isn’t a thief, and they’re determined to find out who is. Soon the children are battling not just to clear his name, but for their very lives!
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