Murder on the Ultimus Express
By: Agatha Christie Jasper Fontaine
Run from it. Dread it. The ISFL off-season arrives all the same. Another Ultimus completed. Another trophy acquired. Life has been good to Jasper Fontaine. But as we all know, the flame the burns twice as bright burns out twice as fast. The time has come to pack up and head home; back to Philadelphia, where Jazzy shall once again succumb to the doldrums of an uneventful off-season. He kisses his championship ring and purchases a one-way ticket home.
All that remains between him and months of monotony are a train car, a martini lounge, and 1200 miles of hot-rolled steel railway. He intended to use this time to unwind and perhaps finish the jazz album he’d been writing during his journeys.
Jazzy sips his martini. He scratches a line of red ink across the stanzas. No. That would not do. This piece clearly needs more panache. More excitement! Little did he know just how much excitement the remainder of his evening would hold.
It is just after midnight when a snowdrift stops the Ultimus Express dead in its tracks... But that’s not the only thing dead on this fated night.
The luxurious train is surprisingly full for the time of the year, but by the morning it is one passenger fewer. An ISFL GM lies dead in their compartment, stabbed a dozen times, their door locked from the inside. Isolated and with a killer in their midst, Jasper Fontaine must identify the murderer – in case he or she decides to strike again.
By: Agatha Christie Jasper Fontaine
Run from it. Dread it. The ISFL off-season arrives all the same. Another Ultimus completed. Another trophy acquired. Life has been good to Jasper Fontaine. But as we all know, the flame the burns twice as bright burns out twice as fast. The time has come to pack up and head home; back to Philadelphia, where Jazzy shall once again succumb to the doldrums of an uneventful off-season. He kisses his championship ring and purchases a one-way ticket home.
All that remains between him and months of monotony are a train car, a martini lounge, and 1200 miles of hot-rolled steel railway. He intended to use this time to unwind and perhaps finish the jazz album he’d been writing during his journeys.
Jazzy sips his martini. He scratches a line of red ink across the stanzas. No. That would not do. This piece clearly needs more panache. More excitement! Little did he know just how much excitement the remainder of his evening would hold.
It is just after midnight when a snowdrift stops the Ultimus Express dead in its tracks... But that’s not the only thing dead on this fated night.
The luxurious train is surprisingly full for the time of the year, but by the morning it is one passenger fewer. An ISFL GM lies dead in their compartment, stabbed a dozen times, their door locked from the inside. Isolated and with a killer in their midst, Jasper Fontaine must identify the murderer – in case he or she decides to strike again.