A peculiar story, to say the least. Six authors on a moving train- a luxurious, expensive and one of a kind gathering. So what could go wrong, you might ask? Even after a murder, five acting detectives and a murderer on the loose, could you say the same?
The one thing that stood out to me, as in any great books, is the narrator. A relatively unreliable narrator, I’d argue- driven by recognition, love for money, love for survival. Too driven by love. Recognition, after all, is just another word for the love for attention. His occasional sidetracks and internal thoughts seemed to have no relevance over the plot eases the tension, yet at the same time, their murder- related topic is what keeps us on edge at all times. Then, he pulled back after his rambling and immediately got into the serious part of the story, one you could make direct link to the impending murder. A really clever way of using perspective to sustain tension, if you ask me.