Times Literary Supplement (Maurice Willson Disher, 9 th November 1940): MURDER OF A DENTIST Poirot unravels a case that comes to an astounding conclusion and shows Agatha Christie at her very best. And then the greatest financier in the country had a narrow escape from death. He had just plunged into the problem when an inconspicuous little woman was murdered. No solution as simple as that, however, would satisfy Hercule Poirot.
Nobody knew why, until it was all comfortably and satisfactorily explained when a Greek, a patient of the dentist’s, died from an overdose of dental drugs. The dentist lay on the floor of his office, a gun beside him. “The dentist! Six hours in the spiritual abyss, and all because I never thought of the dentist! Such a simple, such a beautiful and peaceful thought! Friends, we have passed a night in hell, but now the sun is risen, the birds are singing, and the radiant form of the dentist consoles the world.” On finishing the book, we are reminded of Father Brown’s statement in a similar case: Poirot is reluctant to have the murderer found guilty and is tempted to let him go, but, inevitably, sees that justice must be done and the innocent not allowed to suffer. Poirot must have met Reggie Fortune recently, for, in addition to certain mannerisms (“Oh, my Japp”), he suspects a vast conspiracy behind three deaths (the “suicide” of Poirot’s dentist, the poisoning of a Greek blackmailer and the murder of an unknown woman in a fur-chest) despite police incredulity and a desire to see only the obvious and, at the end, in a remarkable scene which shows Poirot’s conscience, he condemns the murderer with the Old Testament. May well be the refrain of this detective story, for it is from an examination of trivia – shoes, stockings and false teeth, those outward appurtenances which maketh the man (or woman, as the case may be) – that Poirot is able to discover one of the most cold-blooded and elaborate plots which even Agatha Christie has devised, and which the reader can – very dimly – see from the moment that Poirot, attending morning service for the only time in the books, discovers that he has very nearly fallen into a trap.
“For want of a buckle, the shoe was lost
0 kommentar(er)
