When Mr. Babbington dies at a party given by the famous actor Sir Charles Cartwright, the host is sure it's murder; however, Mr. Satterthwaite and Hercule Poirot don't agree with. Imagine the surprise of the two experts in human nature and crime when one of the guests, Sir Bartholomew, gives his own party and dies in the same manner.
Hercule Poirot teams up with Mr. Satterthwaite and Sir Charles to figure out the motive for the first murder - they act on the theory that Sir Bartholomew murder was an outcome of Mr. Babbington's death. What the reason could be for wanting to kill an elderly clergyman such as Stephen Babbington eludes the famous Belgian detective - until by a chance remark, he begins to see light.
Some thoughts
I've found re-reading isn't much fun. Three Act Tragedy however was so much fun! Knowing who the murderer was actually made this book so much better. I loved seeing the little clues as they happened and not having to go 'oh, how was I so stupid?!'. The killing seemed so much more probably once you see step by step how it was done.
I was slightly disappointed that they played the romantic angle so little. I wished Christie had developed the character of Oliver Manders a bit more. We hear about him throughout the book, but his own feelings are never hinted at until the very end.
Mr. Satterthwaite was decidedly slow in this novel. He noticed one vital point, yes, but missed the thing glaring him in the face. Hercule Poirot, on the other hand, never disappoints. His deduction was as usual spot on, and I love the way he always thinks of the romantic angle managing to bring people together.
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| Rating: *** |
Some thoughts
I've found re-reading isn't much fun. Three Act Tragedy however was so much fun! Knowing who the murderer was actually made this book so much better. I loved seeing the little clues as they happened and not having to go 'oh, how was I so stupid?!'. The killing seemed so much more probably once you see step by step how it was done.
I was slightly disappointed that they played the romantic angle so little. I wished Christie had developed the character of Oliver Manders a bit more. We hear about him throughout the book, but his own feelings are never hinted at until the very end.
Mr. Satterthwaite was decidedly slow in this novel. He noticed one vital point, yes, but missed the thing glaring him in the face. Hercule Poirot, on the other hand, never disappoints. His deduction was as usual spot on, and I love the way he always thinks of the romantic angle managing to bring people together.
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