Poirot is trying to take some time off, but when an encounter with a crying woman in his favourite coffee shop seems linked to three seemingly unexplainable deaths at the fancy Bloxham Hotel he is drawn into the mystery alongside goofy policeman Mr Catchpool.
Despite my misgivings I read this book. And in a couple of ways it was quite good. The murder was intriguing, the backstory that was revealed was pretty good, and Poirot was quite like Poirot. But really, it just wasn’t enough. Our narrator was a bore, and the mystery seemed disconnected and presented as a puzzle rather than real human beings who we could actually care for.