“6:40 to Montreal: A Novel” by Eva Jurczyk starts with a good premise. A successful mystery writer takes a first-class train trip from Toronto to Montreal on the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day. Caught in a terrible blizzard, the train suddenly grinds to a halt halfway to the destination. The doors between cars are locked, and the mystery writer is trapped with a small group of strangers.
Suddenly, one of the passengers slumps over dead. Since everyone’s been locked in the train car, one of them must be a killer. Who might be next?
Murder mystery fans love a good locked-room mystery, especially in an unusual location. After all, it worked great in “Murder on the Orient Express,” so it should work here, right?
Retreat!
Making your main character as unsympathetic as possible from page 1 is an interesting choice.Agatha St. John, a former bank manager from Toronto, is now a best-selling author. Author Jurczyk introduces us to her with a veritable torrent of petty complaints. Her husband, Teddy, ruined their trip to Paris with his mismatched leg lengths, she says. Her old job as a bank manager? She hated the hours, pay, workwear, her co-workers, and the clientele, but now, inexplicably, she hates the fact that she no longer works there.
Her luxury home has a “useless” downstairs shower that Teddy won’t remove right away. He wants patio furniture instead! The nerve. The hall light is “too big for the space;” their mop doesn’t really clean. It goes on and on.
Trying to help her burgeoning writing career, Teddy excitedly presents Agatha with an impromptu “writing retreat” for Christmas: a single, first-class, round-trip train ride to Montreal to visit an old bestie. He’s staying home to look after their young son.
Not surprisingly, she considers the gift substandard. Ugh! What can she write in one day? She decides to use the trip as a cover to cheat on her marriage. By the time she boards the train, grousing about how all Toronto men love wearing a particular shoe brand, you’re hoping Agatha’s going to be the first murder victim.
Passengers and Suspects
The train passengers along for this ride include Finch Weatherby, an arrogant, bullying management consultant; Vivien, a protective mother traveling with her adult son; Rupinder, Vivien’s son, who has type 1 diabetes; and a large, friendly man named Jeff, who claims he’s on his way to visit his daughter. Agatha also spies Cyanne Candel, a possible stalker who claims Agatha’s novel ruined her life.Once the train becomes stranded, cell towers go down, and all the doors between the cars are automatically locked “for safety” reasons and cannot be unlocked.
Dorcas, a customer-service attendant, explains: “If someone went wandering between cars … and the train jerked forward …? That’s how folks get themselves decapitated.”
Problems Aplenty
Character backgrounds are thin at best, but most of their histories are little more than snap speculations by Agatha. If she thinks it, it must be true. Sometimes her insights into their inconsistencies are laughably inane: “What could a man who drank Budweiser possibly be doing in the business-class car?”The action is often disjointed, and the narrative flow is frequently interrupted by Agatha’s impulsive musings on self-centered subjects. Graphic sexual moments and profanity are injected pointlessly, seemingly vulgar for vulgarity’s sake.
Some character elements are introduced but never explained. For example, Agatha notes a distinctive burn from an iron on the back of Dorcas’s uniform, which she speculates about, but it’s never explained. Overall, there’s little justification for the actions of most characters; it’s as if they’re doing things merely because it’s dramatic or convenient to the plot.
As for the murderer’s scheme, it makes about as much sense as throwing a paper airplane into a hurricane and expecting it to maintain a chosen flight path. Also, why does he or she choose to kill? It’s akin to deciding to heat your house by napalming the rest of the neighborhood. It would be interesting to know what alternative plans were rejected first.
Ultimately, the most disturbing part of the book is Agatha’s almost psychotic morality by the end. Her rationality is along the lines of “I’ve met that type before; he deserved death,” or “her dying benefited me, so it’s all good.” As far as can be discerned, the last chapter is meant to be uplifting and positive. Instead, it’s deeply twisted. Somebody here needs therapy. Maybe it’s me.
If your travel option is the “6:40 to Montreal,” take the bus instead.
