Betting on the Murderer
In the Foreword to her novel, author Agatha Christie takes the step of warning her readers against picking up the book with the expectation of figuring out the mystery. She frames this expectation within a metaphor of horse-racing or, more specifically, the wagering on which horse to back:
“There is an idea prevalent that a detective story is rather like a big race—a number of starters—likely horses and jockeys.
Is the Killer a Woman?
For those who want to ignore Ms. Christie’s advice not to approach solving the mystery as a horserace, let it be known that she forwards just four suspects with the advisory caution that any single one of the four could be guilty. If you want to bet that the guilty suspect is a woman, it is worth keeping a very common—and historically accurate—criminal metaphor in mind:
"Poison is a woman's weapon. There must be many secret women poisoners—never found out."
Poirot
The detective investigating this case is Christie’s famous Belgian, Hercule Poirot. The case occurs later in the famed detective’s career; he is older and perhaps not quite as physically impressive as in his younger days. Certainly, the character of Rhoda is not terribly impressed as indicated by her reply to the query “Do you think this man Poirot is clever?” Rhoda’s reply is certain to be revealed as ironic later:
“He doesn’t look a Sherlock.”
The Tight-Lipped Miss Burgess
Miss Burgess is perhaps not quite as convinced that Poirot is not a force of cleverness to be reckoned with. In fact, she does reckon with him by insisting to another through equally tight lips that when the sleuth came ‘round snooping, she gave way nothing. To which the other character replies in a cute little metaphorical image:
"My dear girl, no need to be an oyster.”
"We haven't a leg to stand on."
Poirot reveals that he is clever with his response to this rather trite observation of the status of the investigation by Superintendent Battle, who further asserts that the case so far is nothing but conjecture. Building upon the Superintendent's less-than-creative metaphor, Poirot cautions:
"Courage, my friend. I know your patience. In the end, you will have perhaps as many legs as a centipede."
