Oh, those little gray cells of Hercule Poirot's. I have a yearning to be Poirot's sidekick, and travel the world of the 1930's with him. To think of the mysteries we could solve, and the amusements we could have (purely platonic, of course, since I'm not sure anyone could find his egg-shaped head and his attention to his mustache desirable), but there would be those pesky murders to attend to that seem to follow Poirot around like a lost dog.
Poirot is traveling to the Riviera for Holiday, and to no one's surprise (at least not to me), a murder happens on the very train that he is traveling on. He decides to help out the police in the investigation--sometimes he says no, I'm retired, and other times he is more than willing to donate his time and gray cells to the effort of finding a dastardly killer.
There is a lesson here on spoiling our kids and giving them too much stuff, no matter what their age.
Ruth Kettering is found dead on the train with her face smashed in and all her jewelry missing, including a new piece that her father bought her, and the act of his generosity, motivates the killer and brings about her death.
Christie has a way of bringing together people who at first seem so far apart from one another in distance and temperament. Several other people are on the train with the victim--her estranged husband, his former mistress, a woman until recently was quite poor, and Poirot.
She blends lives together until new love forms in the hearts of two, and the most sadistic murderer is found out.
This is not a fast-paced book, but so worth the patience and time.
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