Bruno Brown has spent forty years writing bestselling crime novels. He knows exactly how to solve a locked-room murder. In theory. When a blizzard traps him in a tiny Swiss airport and a powerful film producer is found dead in a bathroom with no weapon, no witnesses, and no way out, Bruno faces an uncomfortable realisation: no one else is going to figure this out.Bruno would very much like to leave this to professionals. He's fifty-seven, his knees hurt, enclosed spaces make him anxious, and he writes about detectives-he emphatically is not one. Also, the airport coffee is terrible and someone keeps playing Mariah Carey on loop.But with phone lines down, rescue twelve hours away, and a killer who's planned every detail-and has a rather aggressive approach to witness elimination-Bruno can't just sit there while people die.Armed with a battered notebook and theoretical murder knowledge, Bruno must identify the killer before they strike again. The problem? Everyone's a suspect.The bigger problem? The killer is watching. Turns out writing about murder from the safety of your study is considerably more pleasant than solving one while trapped in fluorescent-lit purgatory with a murderer. A clever locked-room mystery with dry British wit, a delightfully anxious protagonist, and a plot that would make Agatha Christie proud. Perfect for fans of Richard Osman's Thursday Murder Club and Anthony Horowitz's clever construction. No departures. No arrivals. No escape.