Another Poirot mystery. I liked how self-aware Christie is in this book โ Poirot routinely mocks (gently, even!) mystery stereotypes in hilarious ways. Hastings as a narrator continues to be stupid in an intentionally pompous, upper-class way, which is tedious if you read too much of it. The case in itself is not terrible, but nothing great either.
I'm currently behind on reviews, so don't be surprised if the recent reviews are a bit sparse.