It was definitely more like Finders Keepers by Stephen King. Oh boy geez.
PSA: Do not read this book between the hours of 10pm and 2am in a strange house in a strange city with strange sounds drifting through the strangely open window. You won’t 
sleep. You will lie there wondering just how long you have before some dude jumps through the window and Until Dawn plays out before you.
I mean it wasn’t that scary, but like Sherlock has taught me that phone calls from unknown callers generally results in an encounter with either Mycroft (which wouldn’t be so bad) or Moriarty (which would be so bad).
So really Steven Moffatt made this much worse than it needed to be.
Anyway, let’s talk about the book. Um – I should probably just…
There we go. You’ve been warned.
TBH, didn’t see Dixon coming.
It was one of those it’s-the-least-suspicious-person-because-they’re-the-least-suspicious-person situations, and you’d think that after watching SO MUCH Agatha Christie that I’d be aware of this but nope.
I thought it was the maths teacher for about ten seconds (because if you want anyone to turn out to be a criminal, you want it to be the maths teacher. Obviously. [No offence to any of the maths teachers reading this, who I’m sure are exceptions to the rule and are lovely wonderful people.]) but the inclusion of that sub plot felt a bit jarring and weird, and if sub plots feel jarring and weird, it’s usually because they’re later draft red herring editions.
Because I’m such an expert on later draft red herring editions
