Jonathan Santlofer brilliantly reinvents the closed-circle mystery in Ten Perfect Guests, as 10 flawed, unlikable characters travel to a remote tropical island to learn what (and in some cases, if) they’ve inherited from a recently deceased, very wealthy artist.
Two rival art dealers, an ex-wife, a lackadaisical son, the current wife, the brother, a failed art critic, a pharmaceutical heiress, a girl no one knows, and a washed-up rock star walk onto an island… except the punchline isn’t a joke at all, but the far more sinister threat of death–or perhaps worse, disinheritance. Each has received a custom invitation to the memorial service for the late Victor D’Arcangelo, whose sudden passing has left his immense fortune in question.
For a variety of reasons–debt, pride, desperation, love, resentment, despair, greed, closure–all 10 agree to attend the memorial weekend, held at a remote hotel on a small Caribbean island. Accessible only by boat, and without cell signal, the island that welcomes the group is “part of an atoll… totally self-contained and totally isolated.” The hotel is less upscale than the guests expect, and more past its prime, the pediment worryingly inscribed with the Latin Cursum Perficio: “My journey ends here.” While the hotel lacks luxury amenities and any staff to speak of, there are comfortable rooms for each guest, a generously stocked pantry, and plenty of flashlights. The well-to-do, spoiled guests are horrified to learn that they’re expected to fend for themselves for three whole days before a boat will arrive to fetch them back to the airport.