Long trips provide the opportunity to do a lot of things. A person can catch up on their reading, take a nap, write a story, or even investigate a crime. One fine fall day in the life of Amy Spencer, private eye, found Amy aboard a train. She was absorbed in her novel, determined to finish it before the train reached its destination. So absorbed was she in that novel, she didn't become aware of a scream in the next car until it was brought to her attention by the passenger next to her. Her seat buddy was a man in his late thirties with an awful mustache who had been trying to flirt with her the entire trip. Glad to get away from him, she proceeded to walk to the next car, which happened to be the sleeper car. She was greeted by the sight of a sobbing woman, a stern-looking police officer, and several train personnel. She walked up to the police officer, explained who she was, and asked what had happened. The police officer gestured wordlessly into the compartment next to him.
Peering curiously into the compartment, Amy was surprised to see a man lying on the floor, his neck twisted at an impossible angle. He was quite obviously dead. It was also apparent that there had been no foul play. The man's suitcase lay on the floor next to him, burst open with the contents strewn about the compartment. He had fallen off the seat where he was standing in order to put the luggage on the top rack. He must have fallen and landed on his neck wrong. Amy sighed and handed her card to the police officer, telling him to get her if he wanted to pursue any angle of foul play. She didn't think it likely, but it never hurts.
She walked reluctantly back to her seat and sat down. The man turned to her and again attempted to get her phone number. She settled in and tried her best to ignore him. She wished the commotion in the sleeper car had required her skills, if only to get her away from the man next to her and allow her to do what she did best: fight crime.
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