Anne Perry - Dark Assassin

In Anne Perry's case, acquiring an education haphazardly is a rather delicate euphemism for incarceration. Perry was well on her way to becoming an internationally known mystery writer when her secret came out: as a teenager in New Zealand, Perry and her best friend were tried and convicted for killing the other girl's mother. No doubt it was much to Perry's embarrassment that details of the story came to light. Nor could she have been particularly enthusiastic about the 1994 film – Heavenly Creatures - that was made about the story. In that regard, I only know what I've read: understandably, it's not something that Perry likes to discuss.

In person, Anne Perry is much as expected. It's not even difficult to imagine the girl Kate Winslet portrayed in the film growing to be this cultured and mature woman. She is tall, slender, perfectly coifed and turned out when I meet her: she is elegant and her bearing is regal. We meet in a busy bistro and there is noise all around. The clink of glasses, the midrange hum of a successful eatery. Somewhere at a distant table, a child cries intermittently. Perry pays attention to none of it. She meets my gaze with her own clear blue one, sits serenely and answers quietly.

Readers of Perry's Monk mysteries might even feel they recognize one of the writer's own characters in the level, intelligent gaze. In many ways, Perry reminds me of her creation: Hester Latterly. Both women possess the same maturity of style and stance, the same natural elegance and – perhaps – even a bit of the same background.

Perry has not been an overnight sensation. Still relatively unknown in her native United Kingdom, Perry's North American audience has been growing in modulated spurts since the publication of her first book, The Cater Street Hangman . In the last few years, however, that has been changing as well, while a steadily increasing number of readers are tuning into her two series of well-honed Victorian mysteries. And while Perry will be the first to admit she didn't invent the genre, she's certainly done much to increase its popularity.

Perry is committed to publishing two books per year: a "Pitt novel in the spring, and a Monk novel in the fall." And while a pace like that might leave other writers breathless, Perry feels she works consistently but not at breakneck speed. With time enough, in fact, to occasionally focus on other projects. Two of these projects have been of special interest to Perry of late: a film version of The Cater Street Hangman has been completed and will be aired in the United States on A &E in mid-December. And – for something completely different – a fantasy novel called Tathea will be published in February, 1999.

Linda Richards: How do you manage to write so many books?

Anne Perry: I work reasonably hard. Though probably not harder than many people. I work probably eight or nine hours a day, six days a week.

Two books a year is what you're doing?

Yes. Plus a few short stories. I'm not planning to slow up. I normally do two a year. I've done two a year since 1990.

Your first book was published in 1979?

Yes, right at the beginning of 1979. That was The Cater Street Hangman . That was the first one in the Pitt series. First mystery I ever wrote, first Victorian one and the first one to get published.

And you're living in Scotland now?

Yes. Between 45 and 50 miles north of Inverness. In the Highlands. With one dog and five cats.

Of your books, what's your favorite?

Whatever I'm doing at the moment because it might just work out exactly right. My heart is always in whatever I'm doing at the time.

You used to live in the U.S.

I lived near San Francisco for about six months and in the Los Angeles area for four and a half years in the late 60s.

I understand you moved around a lot as a child. I think that spawns writers, in a way.

Yes, I guess you make your own world. And also illness has that effect as well. And I had a lot of childhood illness. Not since then, thank goodness. But it does. Because you have to live within your mind because there's not much you can do outside it.

Your latest William Monk novel doesn't offer the clues to Monk's past that readers have come to look forward to. Is there a pattern or plan in your mind about revealing more of the mysteries from that investigator's history?

Yes there is. But my editor said to me, "Don't do it every time. It gets a bit…" you know? And I thought she was right. It's agreeable or I wouldn't have done it, but just to leave it for a while. But I've got something planned where we're going to discover a great deal more about his mentor. And he's going to be forced to discover things he'd much rather not know about both his mentor and himself. And it's really going to put it on the line.

Are you working on something right now?

Yes. Of course I am. I put the pen down to come here. I am a third of the way through the Pitt for the spring of 2000. And they have the Pitt for next spring which will be called Bedford Square. And they have the Monk for next autumn which will be called The Twisted Root .

You like writing, don't you?

Yes. I do. How did you guess?

There's passion in your eyes when you talk about it.

I think it's a terrible thing to write and not enjoy it. It's a sad thing. But of course a lot of people do work because they need to eat. And we all need to eat, but that's not the only reason to work. You couldn't have paid me not to write. If you said you'd give me x thousand – or a hundred thousand dollars, or a million dollars a year – not to write I would tell you to keep your money, because what am I going to do? You've got to do it. I think it's the same for people who act or sing or play music or dance, whatever.

How old were you when your first novel was published?

I was 38, approximately. Well, I guess I was when it was accepted. I was 41 when it was published. Or 40.

In A Breach of Promise you spend a lot of time with Oliver Rathbone, and not as much with Monk or Hester Latterly.

I like Rathbone. And I thought the structure of the story called for Rathbone to be investigating at that point rather than Monk. You'd have had to distort the story to have Monk investigating at that point. Somebody who's going to be served with breach of promise goes to a lawyer, not a private investigator. It wouldn't have made sense to have him go to Monk.

So you use them as you need them?

Exactly. Yes, that was the story.

Do you have a large American readership?

Yes. That's where it is. The readership is American.

I didn't realize that.

Well, if I tell you that The Cater Street Hangman came out in America in 1979 and has never been out of print. And they brought it out this year in Britain: in September. That should give you some idea.

And they can do that with your books. Because they're quite timeless.

Oh, I hope so. If it's taken that long in my own country. I mean, I've got a few out, but I'm not a big name at all. Not at all.

But what made me think of that were your comments about Rathbone. I mean, that's British stuff. In relation to money and breeding.

In relation to money. Not necessarily breeding. Because you can't buy class.

Americans sometimes say to me that they have no class system themselves. All human beings have class systems. It can be based on a different thing in a different country, but the thing about breeding is, you can't buy it. If you have to say it, you haven't got it. It's a kind of an inner confidence and you don't have to say it. And it's curious but those people who really have breeding can be very quiet and very self-effacing but they have that total confidence. They don't believe in themselves: they know.