Blog Tour: The Hotel Manager’s Guide to Murder by Erlendur Arason (transl. Quentin Bates)

I’m delighted to be taking part in a blog tour today for a new-to-me author and publisher: The Hotel Manager’s Guide to Murder by Erlendur Arason (2025, transl. Quentin Bates 2025) from Blekverk Books.

I’m always a bit trepidatious with books described as Nordic Noir – how noir are we talking? I’m really not in the market for anything gruesome. But the title sets the tone of a darkly comic crime thriller, which I really enjoyed. Here is the publisher’s summary:

“Guests at one of Reykjavík’s smartest hotels never know what happens behind the scenes – including what brings a group of the city’s homeless to the Bristol Hotel every winter night while the rest of the world sleeps.

When overworked supervisor Torfi finds himself given an unexpected promotion that comes with a respectable pay rise, he takes it as a lucky break – until he’s told to make a murder victim disappear, and that he doesn’t have any choice. That’s when his life rapidly gets a lot more complicated.

What isn’t he being told? Torfi doesn’t know, but when police officers Haukur and Dagný start asking awkward questions, he needs to find answers – even though he knows only half of the story.

Longing desperately to go back to his old, boring life, Torfi finds himself desperately out of his depth as his family are threatened and his problems spiral far out of his control.”

Torfi’s troubles begin when he is fired:

“Her voice was like silk slowly tearing.

‘But…’ Torfi’s mouth had already been dry, but now it was parched. ‘I … I know everything.’”

What he means is, he knows the job inside out. But shifty manager Ásbjörn and steely HR Head Sigríður assume he means something else entirely, and promptly give him a promotion and financial sweetener.

“He explored his stomach with one hand. There was no sign of the old tension that had so often left him doubled up in pain, but there was a fizzing ache in his chest that was new. He took more deep breaths with his eyes shut tight, as he wondered yet again what he had got himself into.”

While Torfi is grateful for the money, taking some of the pressure off him and his partner Stjana’s blended family, he also knows he is way out of his depth. There is something of the Hitchcockian wrong man to Torfi, caught up in a sinister conspiracy he barely understands.

“He chewed a sweet roll studded with caraway seeds and thought over what had gone on overnight, still hardly daring to believe that he had really assisted in disposing of a corpse in the middle of the night – for what? To protect someone powerful in the hierarchy? Why had he done that? He glumly admitted to himself that he knew the answer perfectly well. He had no choice in the matter. He’d accepted the money without a qualm, and now he would be paying that particular debt for a long time to come.”

As Torfi tries to piece together what on earth is going on at the hotel, there is plenty of opportunity for Arason to satirise corporate culture, the financial demands of modern life, and the easy disregard for lives that are not protected by wealth or power.

“Torfi shook his head. He reflected that the more he got to know his colleagues at management level, the more he was astonished at how different their lives were to those of the staff whose wages were paid every Friday.”

These wider points are woven through without slowing down the story at all, and the pace is compelling without feeling relentless. The plot is just twisty enough without ever stretching credibility and I raced through to find out what on earth was going on at the hotel.

There was so much to enjoy in The Hotel Manager’s Guide to Murder, and I’m looking forward to the next two instalments in this trilogy set around Reykjavik. I hope we get an update on Torfi, there are a few loose ends I’m keen to know the outcome of…

Here are the rest of the stops on the tour, so do find out how other bloggers found The Hotel Manager’s Guide to Murder:

“All fiction is about people, unless it’s about rabbits pretending to be people.” (Margaret Atwood)

This is my first contribution to Kaggsy and Lizzy’s wonderful #ReadIndies event, running all month. The Rabbit Factor by Antti Tuomainen (2021, transl. David Hackston 2021) is published in the UK by Orenda Books, who describe themselves on their website as: “a small independent publisher based in South London. We publish literary fiction, with a heavy emphasis on crime/thrillers, and roughly half the list is in translation.”

The Rabbit Factor is the first in a trilogy about actuary Henri Koskinen, which had somehow completely passed me by until I read Annabel’s review of the final part, The Beaver Theory. A little while later I saw The Rabbit Theory in my local charity bookshop and took it as A Sign. (As I have mentioned before, I’ll take pretty much anything as A Sign in that shop, and it always results in me buying more books 😀 )

Henri is a man who likes a well ordered, predictable life: “At the age of forty-two I had only one deep-held wish. I wanted everything to be sensible.”

His job as an actuary suits him, using mathematics to predict risk. Unfortunately, what doesn’t suit him is the modern workplace – open plan, noisy and full of corporate-speak about self-actualisation. He is forced into resigning by his boss who hides his bullying behind pseudo-beneficent jargon.

Not long after, Henri is told his brother Juhani has died and he has inherited YouMeFun, an adventure park (not an amusement park) in Vantaa. Unfortunately, before he died his brother inherited their parents’ chaotic approach to life and so Henri finds himself faced with:

“An unbearable lack of organisation, staggering maintenance bills, unproductive use of man hours, economical recklessness, promises nobody could keep, carts that quite literally moved at tortoise speed? I raised my fingers to my throat and checked the position of my tie. It was impeccable.”

Juhani was also in hock to gangsters, two of which – Lizard Man and henchman AK – keep turning up to menace Henri with horrible regularity and conviction. No less threatening, but considerably less violent, is police officer Osmala who similarly seems very interested in YouMeFun and Henri. And so Henri finds himself under enormous pressure and with only his maths skills to fall back on.

“I resigned because I couldn’t stand watching my workplace turn into a playground. Then I inherited one.”

I think maybe this novel passed me by because it can be classified under Nordic-noir, and I don’t read a great deal of that. What I read I enjoy, but I choose carefully because I am a delicate flower and not really in the market for gruesome crimes. Now, there are gruesome deaths in The Rabbit Factor, but I managed these fine. The details aren’t dwelt upon and they are surrounded by such surreal silliness that the focus is more on the ridiculousness of Henri’s situation than violence.

The tone is also not noirish. One of the blurbs in my edition mentions the Coen brothers, and this is a good parallel: while there is darkness to the tale, there is also humour and humanity. Henri’s unlikely colleagues include Esa, the US-marine obsessed security officer; sweet Kristian who is unable to see that his total ineptitude is what prevents him from becoming general manger; Minttu K who seems to know about marketing if she could only stop self-medicating with alcohol; Venla who never arrives for a shift; and quietly efficient Johanna who runs the kitchen and actually seems able to do her job.

There is also Laura Helanto, manager and frustrated artist, who causes feelings to arise in Henri that he doesn’t fully understand. It’s a confusing time for him all round…

“But recent events have taught me that what once seemed likely, as per the laws of probability, is more often than not in the realm of the impossible. And vice versa: what once I would have been able to discount through a simple calculation of probability ratios and risk analysis is now in fact the entirety of my life.”

I really enjoyed The Rabbit Factor. The deadpan narration of Henri is so well-paced that it manages to also be completely engaging. His focus on detail grounds the ridiculousness of his situation so it remains believable, carrying the reader along on Henri’s absurd journey.

“Even as a child I saw mathematics as the key. People betrayed us, numbers did not. I was surrounded by chaos, but numbers represented order.”

The characterisation is equally finely balanced. Henri and his colleagues could so easily be caricatures but instead you end up rooting for these disparate individuals. Tuomainen isn’t remotely sentimental but he is kind to the people he creates. The humour is derived from the situation, never laughing at the people themselves. They change under Henri’s stewardship, and he in return finds himself behaving in ways that surprise him more than anyone:

“I say something I could never have imagined hearing myself say. ‘This doesn’t make any sense. But it has to be done.’”

Last year I decided I would buy one book a month from an independent publisher or bookshop. I think Henri would agree that the probability of my next two purchases in this regard being his adventures in The Moose Paradox and The Beaver Theory are pretty high…

To end, I was so tempted to choose Chas & Dave’s Rabbit, as I absolutely loved that song when I was little (it was released when I was four years old, and I thought they were singing about actual rabbits). But alas, my adult sensibilities prevent me from adding a song about silencing women to the blog 😀 So instead here is a literature-inspired song about drugs rabbits: