Every single one of whom has a hidden identity…
Talk about a throwback–Tom Mead is channeling basically every Golden Age English crime fiction writer from Conan Doyle on here. Nothing is omitted, including the befuddled detective (named Flint, because of course), the always-smarter-than-everyone-else amateur, and a cast of characters with collectively more motive than everyone in that sleeper in Murder on the Orient Express,…
