|
[ Home ]
[ About | Reviews | Search | Submit ]
Lucy Angkatell may appear slightly batty to strangers what with her run-on conversations and off the cuff remarks. Her husband Henry knows better. Lucy is anything but stupid. She's well aware that the guests she's invited to her home for the weekend are hardly compatible. Cousin Edward, heir to the family estate, is desperately in love with Henrietta, an artist and distant relative. She, in turn, is in love with London medical practitioner, Dr. John Christow. John returns Henrietta's affections, although at present he's married to Gerda, a woman he turned to after a brief and humiliating engagement to an actress named Veronica. Gerda loves John, but is a hesitant woman easily overwhelmed by the more decisive Angkatells, and in particular, Lucy Angkatell. Cousin Midge is a working girl who can't afford the kind of snobbery indulged in by Lucy, but enjoys the occasional family get-together, especially when Edward, her childhood buddy, is in attendance. Cousin David, next in line to inherit Edward's domain, is a pompous college student who feigns disdain for the entire family while enjoying the benefits of Lucy's hospitality. Not exactly what you'd call the best mix of company given all the emotional entanglements. The weekend goes from bad to worse when Veronica shows up on Lucy's doorstep Saturday evening. Determined to seduce John Christow, she lures the doctor to her cottage, then proposes they each divorce their respective spouses and marry each other. When John turns her down, Veronica swears revenge. Thinking she'll entertain her guests with a bit of the unusual, Lucy invites vacationing Hercule Poirot to lunch on Sunday. The great Belgian detective arrives at the Angkatell home just as Lucy and her guests discover a dying John lying by the outdoor pool. Standing over Christow is his wife, and in her hands is a revolver. In Poirot's presence, John utters what is to be his last word before dying, the name 'Henrietta'. The evidence points to Gerda as John's murderer. But when the gun she's holding turns out not to be the murder weapon, the police and Poirot must dig deeper for a solution to this strange crime. Complicating matters is the irrepressible Lucy Angkatell whose odd behavior confuses the police and worries her husband. Does Lucy know more than she's telling, or is she simply a dotty old woman whose rambling conjectures are meaningless? The inimitable Poirot must peel back layers of deception and intrigue in order to expose John Christow's killer. Christie gives a masterful portrayal of a family so absorbed in itself that the murder of an outsider is seen as more of an annoyance than a crime. John Christow is not a likable fellow. Still, except for Henrietta, there is a decided lack of grief over his passing on the part of the Angkatells. It is perhaps this aspect of the book that strikes the reader as more perplexing than the murder itself. Christie gives us not the stiff-upper-lip kind of emotional response often associated with the British, but instead shows us a group of people almost totally untouched by any but their own concerns. As with all Christie's books, the fun comes in trying to unravel a finely wrought puzzle -- whodunit and how? This reviewer didn't guess the ending and bets few other readers will. This is a fine example of Christie's character-based novels, although it's pace may not appeal to those who prefer less description and more action in their mysteries.
Reviewed by Mary V. Welk, November 2003
[ Top ]
QUICK SEARCH:
Contact: Yvonne Klein (ymk@reviewingtheevidence.com)
[ About | Reviews | Search | Submit ]
[ Home ]
|
