Recently, there had been some strange goings at the Styles at St. Mary. Evelyn, constant companion to old Mrs. Inglethorp, has stormed out of the house muttering something about a lot of sharks. And with her, something indefinable had gone from the atmosphere. Mrs. Inglethorp’s sudden death only raises suspicion and discomfort. A shattered coffee cup, a splash of candle grease, a bed of begonias, all Hercule Poirot requires to display is his legendary power of detection.
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