Move Over Cosy Crime: Anthony Horowitz Says Nine Bodies in a Mexican Morgue Is the Antidote
Anthony Horowitz resurrects the Christie-style whodunit—and twists it into a razor-dark thriller for today.
Anthony Horowitz has a new TV mystery, and it is not here to give you a gentle crossword before bed. It is called 'Nine Bodies in a Mexican Morgue', and the premise starts simple, then goes deliciously sideways.
The hook
A small plane goes down in the Mexican jungle. On board: eight passengers, a pilot, and a flight attendant. They survive the crash, at least at first, and are stuck with the heat, the bugs, and each other. Cut to eight days later: in a dusty military outpost doubling as a morgue, body bags are lined up. The count? Nine bodies. The paperwork? Ten passports. Do the math, then start asking the obvious questions about who was really on that plane and who walked away.
The vibe: anti-cosy, on purpose
Horowitz calls this his antidote to cosy crime. No village fêtes, no quaint detectives on bicycles. It is sweaty, tense, and people turn on each other fast. If you know his TV work, the range is broad: 'Foyle's War', early 'Midsomer Murders', and lately the 'Magpie Murders'/'Moonflower Murders' duo. This one is the sharp, spiky cousin.
Yes, it sounds a bit like The Traitors. Also, very much Christie
Early watchers, including Horowitz's producer (and wife) Jill Green, pointed out the resemblance to 'The Traitors': the whole 'who is secretly against me?' engine. Horowitz says he has not seen 'The Traitors' and started writing this before that show even aired. The clearer influence is Agatha Christie, specifically 'And Then There Were None'—ten strangers in isolation, no detective, one killer among them. Think of this as the jungle-set, modern spin on that idea: you can sit next to someone for hours on a plane and still have no clue who they really are. You only find out when the bodies start to stack up.
How the show is built
Horowitz conceived it visually, as a string of jolts. The structure is ruthless: someone disappears each episode. He has always treated a murder as punctuation to keep you glued—back in his 'Midsomer' days, he would time a death for the ad break. Subtle? Not really. Effective? Absolutely.
Horowitz, the franchises, and writing in other people’s voices
Outside TV, Horowitz has written more than 50 books for adults and kids (yes, 'Alex Rider' is his), and he has officially continued Sherlock Holmes and James Bond on the page—though he is not fond of the term 'continuity novels'. He says the job there is to channel the original authors and raise his game to meet them. In his words, write more like them and less like him.
On Bond movies, and that ending
He has penned three 007 novels set squarely in Ian Fleming's era, but he has never been asked—and has not wanted—to write a Bond film. Too much politics, too much thick skin required. He is also very happy to leave one giant headache to the new screenwriter, Steven Knight: bringing James Bond back after 'No Time to Die'. Horowitz thinks killing Bond was a misstep. Bond is supposed to be mythic and eternal; blowing him up complicates that, to put it mildly. He jokes there is no cheat he would accept—please, no shower-scene dream reveal—and admits he would not know where to begin if asked tomorrow.
Celebrity crime authors? He has thoughts
The current wave of famous names slapping their brand on whodunits—sometimes with generous help—does not keep him up at night. Writers, he says, naturally resent the attention those books get. But he shrugs: a good book will endure, a bad one will not. British crime readers have standards and can spot a dud.
The toughest notes come from home
Horowitz's most brutal (and most valuable) critic is producer Jill Green. He swears their long marriage works because she is always right, and he will stomp around, then rewrite as instructed. He is also merciless with himself: he hates mysteries with plot holes or puzzles you cannot solve because the story hid the facts. So he checks, and rechecks, and then checks again.
Why TV this time?
He says he just knew. 'Nine Bodies' was always meant to be seen, not read: a visual series of shocks where the vanishing act each episode locks you into the next one. Books might last longer—he is proudest of getting young readers hooked through 'Alex Rider'—but TV pulls him out of the solitary chair and into collaboration. Visiting set and finding a burnt-out fuselage in the jungle with cameras everywhere is his kind of dopamine hit, especially when he remembers it all started with him alone in a room.
Still sprinting, 46 years in
Horowitz published his first novel 46 years ago, and the throttle is still open. His own take on why he is still here is the most Horowitz thing in the whole conversation:
"The only difference between a successful writer and an unsuccessful writer is that the unsuccessful one stops - and I won't stop."