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Everyone on This Train is a Suspect 

Reviewed By Anne Logan

Published : Saturday, 9 November, 2024 at 12:00 AM  Count : 4310
There was no doubt in my mind that I would like this book. I had heard of Benjamin Stevenson before, mainly because his first book Everyone in my Family Has Killed Someone was so popular (and had a memorable title) and his writing was also humourous, so it was likely that I would enjoy his style of writing. And of course, a murder mystery set on a moving train has been done before, very famously, so I knew Everyone on this Train is a Suspect would include nods to the famous novel by Agatha Christie. My predictions were correct - I loved this one, and have been on quite the streak of fun mystery novels lately, so was delighted to keep it going longer.

Ernest Cunningham has been invited to a mystery writers' festival in a very special venue - a train driving straight down the middle of Australia. He has only written one book so far, and it was a true crime detailing his own harrowing experience of being witness to a few murders, which became a bestseller. He is among 4 other mystery writers, plus a handful of festival attendees, publishing staff, and train attendants who are also joining on the journey. After a day or two of awkward yet drama-filled festival events, the first body shows up; the guest of honour and infamous mystery writer / drunk, Henry McTavish. Each writer has their own specialty; the law, forensics, psychology, etc. so each is an obvious suspect, but can also help in solving the mystery. Not surprisingly Ernest takes it upon himself to solve the crime, plus it helps him write the dreaded follow-up book, because now he has another true crime story to focus on. Ernest has also brought along his girlfriend and fellow writer Juliette, and is ready to propose to her, but as another body shows up, the romance of the trip begins to dwindle as he becomes focused on clearing his name as one of the potential killers.

Ernest's narration and overall tone is delightful. He most definitely 'makes' this book for me. His sarcasm, his self-deprecating tone, and his honesty with the reader add a lighthearted touch to what could quickly become too dark of a novel in the wrong hands. The book we are reading is the book he has written to fulfill his looming publishing contract, so we are to understand that he finally got around to publishing his second book, and as he points out at the very beginning, he has survived his second bout of murders too (giving Jessica Fletcher from Murder She Wrote a run for her money, as she also seemed to attract dead bodies). 

And like any good writer, his descriptions are both entertaining and thorough:
"An eager-eyed, spindly limbed man, somewhere in his forties, whose shoulders had an IT worker's computer-hunch that threatened to swallow his head like a tortoise shell, was surveying the room, pointing out each writer to a woman. The woman had her curly hair in a messy bun, two tendrils hanging beside her cheeks like a picture frame, and I assumed she was his similarly aged wife by her obliging, yet uncaring nod, as if he were explaining to her the backstories of Star Wars figurines"
Ernest often speaks directly to the reader, inviting them to play along and guess the culprit at various points in the action. He openly asks us to make predictions, even dropping clues as he goes - in chapter 1 he announces that the killer's name is mentioned exactly 106 times, so if you are willing to keep a tally, you can discover who the murderer is before it's revealed. He also lays out when he follows the typical murder mystery template, and when he intends to deviate from it.

Despite the helpful nudges and tips along the way, I was still surprised to learn who the culprit was. There are some (believable!) twists along the way too, so there is still plenty of suspense to keep the pages moving, even though we know Ernest survives the ordeal to write about it. I loved reading this book so much I've got my eyes peeled for his earlier novel, simply because I want to read more about Ernest, by Ernest.

Courtesy: I'VE READ THIS


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