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bethpeninger 's review for:
Peril at End House
by Agatha Christie
Ah, Hercule Poirot. The magnificent, strange little Belgian detective. He is so funny and so confident. And despite his ego, he is also quite willing to admit when he is stumped or followed a wrong lead. He is so wonderfully quirky. His friend, Hastings, is the Watson to Poirot's Sherlock.
In this title, Hastings and Poirot are on holiday and Poirot is insisting he is retired. Hastings doesn't believe it and with good reason. A pebble Poirot absentmindedly picks up turns out to be a bullet that narrowly misses the head of Nick Buckley, a young woman who lives at End House. The bullet that almost hit Nick was her third brush with death in as many days and once Hercule Poirot hears her story he fears for her life and takes it upon himself to ensure her protection and expose the person trying to kill her. A menagerie of friends and family leads Poirot and Hastings on a wild goose chase of sorts and with each passing day Nick's life is in more danger. Poirot and his little gray cells are stumped. Who wants Nick dead and why?
In this title, Hastings and Poirot are on holiday and Poirot is insisting he is retired. Hastings doesn't believe it and with good reason. A pebble Poirot absentmindedly picks up turns out to be a bullet that narrowly misses the head of Nick Buckley, a young woman who lives at End House. The bullet that almost hit Nick was her third brush with death in as many days and once Hercule Poirot hears her story he fears for her life and takes it upon himself to ensure her protection and expose the person trying to kill her. A menagerie of friends and family leads Poirot and Hastings on a wild goose chase of sorts and with each passing day Nick's life is in more danger. Poirot and his little gray cells are stumped. Who wants Nick dead and why?