What’s not to love about a man who sleeps with a little net over his moustache to keep it tidy? Sophie Hannah conveys Hercule Poirot’s idiosychrosies and prejudices so beautifully that the murder mystery at the heart of the novel is a bonus.
The Mystery of Three Quarters is the third novel Hannah has written with permission from the estate of Agatha Christie. It’s equally as good as Closed Casket and better than The Monogram Murders. The premise is intriguing; four letters, purporting to be from Hercule Poirot, are sent to four individuals, accusing them of the murder of an old man. But Poirot knows nothing about the letters, and the old man’s death was, by all accounts, an accident. Mon Dieu! Of course Poirot, must investigate! And as he does, bless him, he opens a proverbial pandora’s box of secrets and mistaken assumptions and tangled lies he alone can compose into some sort of order, with the assistance of the little grey cells. And then there’s always the immensely satisfying gathering of all the suspects at the end to reveal the guilty party. How trying for Poirot when all the suspects turn up late to his little get together! Some of them are late because they’ve lost track of time while playing with the bloody dog! You can sympathise with Poirot’s frustration.
This quite lovely little mystery won’t change your life but it is above average entertainment.
