Now, I like this. Very old-school.

Nice Poirot like character.

Awesome! Kind of Holmes-ish.

Of course the cook didn’t murder LeStrange! He was driven insane by a chemical agent that had been put on the handle of his knife, an agent sometimes known as LSD. And while it’s obvious he stabbed LeStrange to death, he couldn’t have known what he was doing, for he was quite clearly out of his mind.

In truth, dear Watson, the murderer is none other than… THE PACIFIST HIPPIE!!! His secret stash of LSD isn’t so secret anymore! This morning I discovered him trying to stick one of his stamps to the back of the train conductor’s sweaty neck, hoping to derail this beautiful train.

I have him under sedation in my room, Mr. Watson. We’ll turn him over to the constable in the morning.