Reviews of Peril at End House (1932)
Poirot may be thinking that he reitred, crime never retires and it has a habit of seeking for Poirot.
In this case it almost jumps at him like a lion on his pray, and poor Poirot is not really prepared.
I have always been more a fan of Miss Marple than of Hercules Poirot. Maybe it is because Agatha made him to French, a bit overdone, and Poirot would say "No, I am not French, I am Belgian".
Nevertheless, in this book he has my sympathy.
It is one of those rare cases where the criminal is one step ahead of the detective, and it shows us again that we are all human, even Hercules Poirot.
The way he is fooled by a young woman is something that might haunt him for the rest of his life, but it gave me the most enjoyable reading experience of all books on Hercules Poirot.