This is my first Hercule Poirot revival book from Sophie Hannah. It has the typical Hercule Poirot charm and quirks, which was the best part of the book for me! I absolutely love Hercule’s character and secretly wish I was like him.
However, I think I was missing the typical mind-blowing ending, and “can’t stop reading” that Agatha Christie usually delivers. Maybe I shouldn’t compare either, that’s not really fair. I’m guessing one of the reasons this book isn’t so highly rated in my opinions, is because I didn’t really like any of the characters, and because of this I felt like I didn’t really care if M. Pandy was killed or by whom.
I will still read the other Hercule Poirot novels written by Sophie. I did enjoy the typical Hercule Poirot case/mannerisms.
Thank you to William Morrow for providing me with an electronic ARC of this book via NetGalley. As usual, my reviews are my honest and unbiased opinions.
Hercule Poirot returns home after an agreeable luncheon to
find an angry woman waiting to berate him outside his front door. Her name is Sylvia
Rule, and she demands to know why Poirot has accused her of the murder of
Barnabas Pandy, a man she has neither heard of nor ever met. She is furious to
be so accused, and
deeply shocked. Poirot is equally shocked, because he too has never heard of any
Barnabas Pandy, and he certainly did not send the letter in question. He cannot
convince Sylvia Rule of his innocence, however, and she marches away in a rage.
Shaken, Poirot goes inside, only to find that
he has a visitor waiting for him -- a man called John McCrodden who also claims
also to have received a letter from Poirot that morning, accusing him of the
murder of Barnabas Pandy...
Poirot wonders how many more letters of this
sort have been sent in his name. Who sent them, and why? More importantly, who
is Barnabas Pandy, is he dead, and, if so, was he murdered? And can Poirot find
out the answers without putting more lives in danger?
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