thirty-nine, thirty-eight, thirty-five, thirty-four: poirot

“‘Do you know, Poirot, I almost wish sometimes that you would commit a murder.’
‘Mon cher!’
‘Yes, I’d like to see just how you’d set about it.’
‘My dear Japp, if I committed a murder you would ot have the least chance of seeing – how I set about it! You would not even be aware, probably, that a murder had been committed.’
Japp laughed good-humouredly and affectionately.
‘Cocky little devil, aren’t you?’ he said indulgently.

the Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie (1926)

Roger Ackroyd, the wealthy owner of Fernly Park is found murdered in his study. His niece asks Poirot, a retired detective to take the case and he agrees. And with the help of the small village’s doctor’s narrative, he solves it.

the Murder on the Orient Express (1934)

Hercule Poirot is travelling on the Orient Express when he is awoken from sleep by some strange noises in the compartment next to him. The man in the compartment is found murdered, stabbed 12 times, the next morning. As the train is stuck in a snow storm, no police can get aboard and the murderer must still be on the train.

the Murder in the Mews (1937)

A woman is found dead in her bedroom, and while it looks like a suicide, Inspector Japp is not so sure, so he asks Poirot for help. Did Barbara Allen kill herself or was it murder?

Hercule Poirot’s Christmas (1939)

Mr Lee gathers his family in his house for Christmas, he hasn’t seen some of his sons for years as they have fallen out. And also, his only grandchild, Pilar, will come from Spain. Once the whole family is together, tension sparks and Mr Lee announces that he needs to change his will. But shortly after dinner, Mr Lee is murdered in his locked room and the murderer has vanished. And then it is time to call in Mr Poirot.

It has been almost a year since I last read any Agatha Christie and it is such a pleasure to do nothing all day but read wonderful stories with my favourite Belgian detective (or the only Belgian detective I know). Murder on the Orient Express became an instant favourite, but then I read Hercule Poirot’s Christmas, and I think I liked that one even better. And as always, I never guess the murderer.

These three novels and one short story was found in the Perfect Murders omnibus. Now I only have seven wonderful unread Hercule Poirot stories left.

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