Hotel for Dogs: Mrs. McGinty's Dead | 1951

How great is this first edition cover? Found it here

"But talk, however light, however idle, gives away, inevitably, the sort of person you are. The wise criminal would never open his mouth, but criminals are seldom wise and usually vain and they talk a good deal -- and so most criminals are caught." -Mrs. McGinty's Dead, p. 54

The Sum of It:

This story begins as Poirot leaves a French restaurant he has discovered and is standing on the sidewalk, quite satisfied with his meal, when Agatha offers one of my favorite (and also one of the most relatable) sentences she's ever written:

"Alas," murmured Poirot to his moustaches, "that one can only eat three times a day..." 

Heard that, Poirot. Anyhow, Poirot is not just bemoaning that he can't just constantly consume French food, he's also feeling a bit bored with life, and not having anything important to do during the times between meals, not even his pal Hastings to hang around with (poorest lonely Poirot!) Fortunately, his old friend Superintendent Spence swings by his flat that evening with a request for help. 

Spence and his crew have just solved the small town murder of an elderly housekeeper. Only the convicted murderer, the lady's lodger, just doesn't seem like the right culprit to Spence. It's bothering him, and he wonders if Poirot might go nose around bitty town Broadhinny and see if he might be able to figure out whether the lodger really is the culprit or, if not, who it might be. Poirot is desperate for anything to do so he's like I'M IN and arranges at once to visit the little village. 

Accommodations in the village are sparse, and Poirot ends up lodging in the one "guest house" in town which is basically just these people's home, and they are turrible housekeepers and have giant dogs everywhere and there's a draft and the doors never shut all the way and there's spinach on the couch...i.e. Poirot's delicate sensibilities are really put to the test here and he feels like he's making major sacrifices for his craft. Indignities are furthered when, as he is approaching one of the area homes to interview people, he gets brained with an apple core! However, this quickly becomes happy news when he realizes his assailant, a driver tossing refuse out the window, is none other than his old pal, detective novelist and apple aficionado, Ariadne Oliver! YAY now things are fun! 

"Murmuring in an explanatory voice, 'Stiff after the long drive,' Mrs. Oliver suddenly arrived out on the road, rather in the manner of a volcanic eruption. Large quantities of apples came too and rolled merrily down the hill. 'Bag's burst,' explained Mrs. Oliver. She brushed a few stray pieces of half consumed apple from the jutting shelf of her bust and then shook herself rather like a large Newfoundland dog. A last apple, concealed in the recesses of her person, joined its brothers and sisters." 

Like I said, fun. Anyhow, Poirot and Ariadne (with the help of a local gal named Maude) set about figuring out the mystery which they quickly discover is somehow linked to a newspaper article featuring four by-gone lady murderers; One of these former notable criminals is in disguise and living in town and Mrs. McGinty knew too much...but which one?? Oooh it is tres' mysterious. 

The YOA Treatment:

Listen, when Poirot and Ariadne Oliver are together, I am always happy. They are such nice foils to each other, and have a charming banter (which we all know I value like the king's rubies). Unlike darling Hastings, she pushes back on Poirot, and refuses to simply act as his hapless Watson, but she still helps him sort through the facts and get to the root of things. I don't like it as much when Poirot is all by himself because he seems lonely, so it always makes me happier when he has a friend. He and Ariadne have a nice little dynamic #teamworkmakesthedreamwork. 

"Mrs. Oliver, glass in hand, approached Hercule Poirot towards the end of the Carpenters' party. Up till that moment they had each of them been the center of an admiring circle. Now that a good deal of gin had been consumed, and the party was going well, there was a tendency for old friends to get together and retail local scandal and the two outsiders were able to talk to each other. 'Come out onto the terrace,' said Mrs. Oliver in a conspirator's whisper." 

Hooray for Poirot having a conspirator :). This is a solid mystery with a nice little puzzle in the middle -- which of the people in town matches with one of the past criminals in the paper? Several of them seem like they could fit, and it's a real thinker. Those of you who prefer the more intuitive cases that leave you competing with Poirot to see who can solve it first will truly enjoy this tale, I recommend! Two mustaches up. 

-E.