Everyone on This Train Is a Suspect
(Ernest Cunningham #2)
Benjamin Stevenson
For Jerry Kalajian
Life Changer
There must be but one detective—that is, but one protagonist of deduction—one deus ex machina. To bring the minds of three or four, or sometimes a gang of detectives to bear on a problem, is not only to disperse the interest and break the direct thread of logic, but to take an unfair advantage of the reader. If there is more than one detective the reader doesn’t know who his co-deductor is. It’s like making the reader run a race with a relay team.
A sequel is an admission that you’ve been reduced to imitating yourself.
The Layout of the Ghan
Australian Mystery Writers’ Festival, 50th Anniversary Program
The AMWF extends a very special welcome to our guest of honor: Henry McTavish, globally bestselling author of the Detective Morbund series. “Unputdownable and unbeatable: McTavish is peerless.” New York Times
Ernest Cunningham: Ernest Cunningham’s memoir Everyone in My Family Has Killed Someone took us deep into the story of one of Australia’s most notorious serial killers, the Black Tongue. He is currently working on a novel.
Lisa Fulton: Lisa Fulton’s bestselling debut novel The Balance of Justice shook the foundations of crime fiction on release twenty-one years ago with its white-hot rage and brutal truth, and was long-listed for the Justice in Fiction Award, Women’s Prize, 2003. She is currently working on her long-awaited second novel.
S. F. Majors: S. F. Majors’s gripping thrillers have captivated the world with their psychological complexity and hair-raising twists and turns. Her books include the New York Times bestselling Twists and Turns, which has been optioned for film by Netflix. Her young adult thriller My Lab Partner Is a Serial Killer is being adapted into a Broadway musical. She grew up rereading the only three books in her tiny town’s school library, and now lives in the Blue Mountains with her partner and two dogs.
Alan Royce: Alan Royce is the author of the Dr. Jane Black series, comprising eleven novels and three novellas. A former forensic pathologist before being catapulted to crime-writing stardom, he brings his expertise in morgues and autopsies to the page. “Gritty, real and uncompromising. One to watch.” Time, 2011
Wolfgang: Winner, Commonwealth Book Prize 2012; short-listed, Bookseller’s Favorites Award 2012; short-listed, Goodreads Readers’ Choice, Literary Fiction, 2012; short-listed, Best of Amazon 2012; short-listed, Justice in Fiction Award, Women’s Prize (special exemption granted), 2003; long-listed, Miles Franklin Award 2015; long-listed, Independent Library Choice Awards 2015; Archibald Packing Room Prize subject 2018; Honorary Mention: International Poetry Prize, Oceanic Region, 2020. His next project is an interactive art project titled The Death of Literature.
Prologue
From: ECunninghamWrites221@gmail.com
To: <REDACTED>@penguinrandomhouse.com.au
Subject: Prologue
Hi <REDACTED>,
It’s a hard no on the prologue, I’m afraid. I know it’s the done thing in crime novels, to hook the reader in and all that, but it just feels a bit cheap here.
I know how to do it, of course, the scene you want me to write. An omniscient eye would survey the cabin’s destruction, lingering on signs of a struggle: the strewn sheets, the upturned mattress, the bloodied handprint on the bathroom door. Add in fleeting glimpses of clues—three words hastily scrawled in blue ink on a manuscript, at odds with the crimson, dripping tip of the murder weapon—just enough to tantalize but nondescript enough not to spoil.
The final image would be of the body. Faceless, of course. You’ve got to keep the victim from the reader at the start. Maybe a sprinkle of some little detail, a personal item like a piece of clothing (the blue scarf, or something, I’m not sure) that the reader can watch for in the buildup.
That’s it: the book, the blood, the body. Carrots dangled. End of prologue.
It’s not like I don’t trust your editorial judgment. It just seems overly pointless to me to replay a scene from later in the book merely for the purpose of suspense. It’s like saying, “Hey, we know this book takes a while to get going, but it’ll get there.” Then the poor reader is just playing catch-up until we get to the murder.
Well, that scene is the second murder anyway, but you get my point.
I’m just wary of giving away too much. So, no prologue. Sound okay?
Best,
Ernest
P.S. After what’s happened, I think it’s fairly obvious I’ll need a new literary agent. I’ll be in touch about that separately.
P.P.S. Yes, we do have to include the festival program. I think there are important clues in it.
P.P.P.S. Grammar question—I’ve thought it funny that Murder on the Orient Express is titled as such, given that the murders take place in the train and not on it. Death on the Nile has it a bit more correct, I think, given the lack of drownings. Then again, of course you say you’re on a train or a plane. I’m laboring the point, but I guess my question is whether we use on or in for our title? Given, of course, most of the murders take place in the train, except of course what happens on the roof, which would be on. Except for the old fella’s partner and those who died alongside him, but that’s a flashback. Am I making sense?
Memoir
Chapter 1
So I’m writing again. Which is good news, I suppose, for those wanting a second book, but more unfortunate for the people who had to die so I could write it.
I’m starting this from my cabin on the train, as I want to get a few things down before I forget or exaggerate them. We’re parked, not at a station but just sitting on the tracks about an hour from Adelaide. The long red desert of the last four days has been replaced first by the golden wheat belt and then by the lush green paddocks of dairy farms, the previously flat horizon now a rolling grass ocean peppered with the slow, steady turn of dozens of wind turbines. We should have been in Adelaide by now, but we’ve had to stop so the authorities can clean up the bodies. I say clean up, but I think the delay is mainly that they’re having trouble finding them. Or at least all the pieces.
So here I am with a head start on my writing.
My publisher tells me sequels are tricky. There are certain rules to follow, like doling out backstory for both those who’ve read me before and those who’ve never heard of me. I’m told you don’t want to bore the returnees, but you don’t want to confuse the newbies by leaving too much out. I’m not sure which one you are, so let’s start with this:
My name’s Ernest Cunningham, and I’ve done this before. Written a book, that is. But, also, solved a series of murders.