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Agatha ChristieA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more. For select classroom titles, we also provide Teaching Guides with discussion and quiz questions to prompt student engagement.
Hastings recalls an atmosphere of increasing anxiety waiting for the third letter, including official police scrutiny of Poirot’s mailbox. Crome becomes increasingly unhappy that none of his inquiries bear fruit, and Hastings describes Poirot as “deeply unhappy over the case” (100). Finally, Hastings hears the evening post arrive, and Poirot urges him to open the letter. It goads the detective to try to best his adversary. Poirot realizes immediately that something is wrong: the projected crime is in the village of Churston on the 30th, that day’s date, though the letter was written on the 27th. They are already out of time. Hastings and Poirot examine the envelope and realize it has been misaddressed to “Whitehorse Mansions” instead of “Whitehaven Mansions” (102). Poirot contacts Crome and decides that they should rush to Churston by train. Poirot prevents Hastings from packing for him, insisting that disrupting his wardrobe will not aid their cause.
Crome meets them at the train station and reads the letter. He rejects Hastings’s idea that the letter was misaddressed deliberately, as this would violate the killer’s stated commitment to giving Poirot advance warning. He argues that the killer was likely looking at a whiskey bottle from the Whitehorse company and simply wrote that down (104).
Crome informs them one of his officers is waiting by the phone for news, and just as the train departs the officer speaks with Crome through the train window. When Poirot and Hastings reach Crome’s car, he informs them that Sir Carmichael Clark of Churston has been found dead. Clarke, a retired doctor, also made his name through his hobby of collecting Chinese art. Poirot and Hastings realize immediately that Clarke’s social prominence will make his death a media sensation.
As they travel, Hastings reflects that this case is different from others they have experienced because previous ones required knowing how the victims and the killer were connected socially and emotionally. Poirot agrees, noting that this case is “cold-blooded, impersonal murder. Murder from the outside” (106). He rejects Hastings’s emotional declarations that the case is unsolvable or a unique horror, assuring him, “If I could once see the idea—then everything would be clear and simple” (107). Poirot tells Hastings not to worry and urges him to sleep.
Hastings sets the scene, establishing Churston as a small seaside town notable mostly for golfing. Carmichael Clarke’s home faced the sea on a cliff. As the butler shows them in, they are met by Franklin Clarke, the victim’s brother, who has “the resolute competent manner of a man accustomed to meeting with emergencies” (109). Clarke expresses horror that his brother’s death is one of a series, asking Poirot if Crome is correct that such a killer is seeking fame. Crome interrupts Poirot reflections on the unassuming nature of such killers and asks about the dead man’s health and state of mind. Franklin Clarke informs him that Lady Clarke, his sister-in-law, is dying of cancer, and that his brother was killed in the course of his routine evening walk. The area is full of seaside tourists, and Crome notes that any stranger could have learned of this habit.
The butler informs them no strangers were seen near the house. Franklin Clarke ushers in Sir Carmichael’s secretary, Thora Grey. Hastings, as is often the case when it comes to women, makes special note of her attractiveness, stating, “My attention was caught at once by the girl’s extraordinary Scandinavian fairness” (113). Miss Grey assures Poirot that her late employer received no letters, and that strangers frequently walk in the area. The party retraces Sir Carmichael’s steps. Hastings walks with Miss Grey who tells him that she was alerted to the pending disaster the previous evening, when the police called due to her late employer’s surname, and it was discovered Sir Carmichael had not yet returned.
Franklin makes a particularly enthusiastic observation about the local scenery, just before they arrive where the body was found. Sir Carmichael was struck from behind, just as Alice Ascher was. They return to the house, where the doctor confirms that death was instantaneous. While Poirot examines the body, Hastings stays in the hall with Thora Grey, who is pondering the likelihood of another death. Franklin Clarke emerges and asks Hastings if Crome is a competent investigator, intimating that he has far greater confidence in Poirot’s ability to solve the case. As Franklin leaves to look in on his sister-in-law, Thora Grey continues her reflections: “I’m wondering where he is now…the murderer, I mean. It’s not twelve hours yet since it happened…Oh! aren’t there any real clairvoyants who could see where he is now and what he is doing” (117-118). Hastings assures her the investigation continues but finds himself pondering the same question.
Alexander Bonaparte Cust, exiting a movie theater, finds the Churston murder headlines and articles linking Carmichael Clarke’s death to Betty Barnard’s. He sits in a public garden, pondering. A young man nearby asserts that the killer must be “mad” from World War I service. He asserts, “I don’t hold with wars,” which makes a nearby young man laugh, though he insists war is not like other pestilence and is preventable (120). The young man realizes Cust may be offended, as he breaks into hysterical laughter. Disconcerted, the young man apologizes and asks if Cust is a veteran. Cust replies in the affirmative, explaining, “It—it—unsettled me. My head’s never been right since. It aches, you know. Aches terribly” (121). The young man hurries away before Cust can describe his ailments more.
Hastings recalls that the third murder, and press coverage publicizing the sequence, produced even more social upheaval: “The population of Great Britain turned itself into an army of amateur sleuths” (123). Poirot has become an object of fascination, and Hastings finds himself assuring his friend the remarks frequently attributed to him in the press are false. The police follow many trails, and Hastings finds himself frustrated that Poirot takes a more contemplative route.
The two discuss why this matters, and Poirot insists that understanding the perpetrator is key, even if this will not immediately lead to a particular person. Poirot further insists that more crime is not entirely horrific, as it will furnish him with more data: “Crime is terribly revealing. Try and vary your methods as you will, your tastes, your habits, your attitude of mind, and your soul is revealed by your actions” (126). Poirot explains that their goal will be to discuss the crimes and the victims with those close to them because people frequently edit their memories, not realizing what they know. Hastings is dubious, so Poirot produces a letter. It is from Mary Drower, Alice Ascher’s niece. She informs Poirot that she will be in London soon and has already written to Megan Barnard suggesting they join forces to find the criminal. Franklin Clarke has written on similar lines, which leads Poirot to declare, “action is about to begin” (130).
By this point, Christie has established that the killer has a plan Poirot does not yet understand. Though he is somewhat discouraged, Poirot continues gathering details, remaining logical in contrast to Hastings’s emotional impulsivity. “Madness” and the legibility of human motive become an even more important theme: Hastings finds the murders horrifying in their impersonality, while Poirot insists there is an underlying logic, even if he cannot yet discern it. At some points, Poirot is almost alone in this conviction. Franklin Clarke and Thora Grey share Hastings’s horror, the latter even daring to imagine where the killer is now. Hastings remains a sharper observer of women’s appearance than of crime scenes—but Thora will prove significant in helping Poirot understand the Clarke case, so in this instance his attention is not without relevance to the overall plot.
Cust grows in significance as a suspect, as he is clearly preoccupied with the murders. He is an eccentric and likely a poor reader of social cues—readily informing strangers about his status as a chronically ill war veteran, yet bursting into laughter at inappropriate times. The effects of shell shock in combat veterans gained new prominence in the years after World War I, though its symptoms were not yet called Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Christie uses the shift in point of view to underscore that passersby do not notice Cust, though various characters have insisted the ABC killer seeks notoriety to make up for its lack in his life.
At this point, Christie strongly encourages the reader to assume Cust is the killer, though the trademark of many of her works, like other classics of detective fiction, is to only reveal the killer at the end, often through a monologue from the detective. But, like Poirot’s search for motive, Christie leaves even the cynical reader with questions: If Cust is a red herring, who has set him up, and to cover up which crime? The introduction of Franklin Clarke, the actual mastermind who will be unmasked at the end, is not without its own clues, that can be seen in hindsight. Clarke takes excessive pains to establish his own admiration for Poirot, which stands in notable contrast to the derision expressed in the letters.
By Agatha Christie