by John Curran
Chambermaid story—a hotel—Torquay? Riviera? Spain? Majorca? English better
The chambermaid idea, of which the above are just two examples, appears ten times in the Notebooks. Evidently the idea of a dishonest chambermaid was one that held possibilities for Christie as she utilised it in both ‘The Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan’ and ‘Miss Marple Tells a Story’. But neither of those fits the plot device of any of the above. The second one is vague enough to fit anything.
Legless man—sometimes tall—sometimes short
The ‘legless man’ motif is another idea that appears in ten Notebooks although nothing was ever made of it. The idea behind this device was that such a person could alter his appearance very dramatically, thereby making identification difficult. Christie’s fellow detective novelist John Dickson Carr used this plot device definitively in his 1938 novel The Crooked Hinge.
Stabbed through eye with hat pin
This very gruesome idea is untypical of Christie, its attraction probably the difficulty of spotting the means of death. It also appears in three other Notebooks.
Isotope idea—Carbon 14—hypodermic injection (for typhoid?) normal procedure. He (?) is going abroad appointment—with local doctor—his place is taken by impostor who gives so-called typhoid injection.
This idea, inspired by a visit to a laboratory during a US visit in the 1960s, has strong echoes of One, Two, Buckle my Shoe in the impersonation of a doctor in order to poison a patient.
Committee crime—Mr Llewellyn—tiresome woman—makes speech—drinks glass of water
Glass of water—Dr Haydock…Suicide because of anonymous letter? At Harton Parva—the vicar’s sister—vinegary woman—the school teacher—at village shop vicar’s sister gets groceries—lays down letters—girl slips one in
These jottings appear in the same Notebook, the first one in a list of projected Miss Marple short stories. And it seems very much Miss Marple’s territory. The seeds of The Moving Finger can be seen in the ‘suicide because of anonymous letters’ idea and the method of inserting a letter in an otherwise innocent bundle appears in Chapter 13 of that novel.
Disappearance of actress—strange behaviour of head gardener
This wonderfully enigmatic combination of ideas appears in Notebook 65 alongside the notes for Ten Little Niggers, although it dates from much earlier in Christie’s career. The suspicious head gardener, very much Miss Marple territory, does make a brief appearance in ‘Ingots of Gold’ from The Thirteen Problems.
A blonde millionaire’s daughter kidnaps herself so as to get away to marry young man
This surfaces three times in the Notebooks, each time specifying a blonde perpetrator. It sounds relatively non-criminal and may have been intended as a light-hearted story, not unlike one of Tommy and Tuppence’s early adventures—‘A Pot of Tea’.
Tom, Dick or Harry come to Bridge—point—none of them existed!
Tempting though it is to believe that this is a reference to Cards on the Table, it appears in a list headed ‘Ideas 1940’, four years after that title. It is difficult to see what Christie had in mind here.
Infra Red photograph
This unusual idea may have been inspired by her interest in photography during her archaeological work with Sir Max Mallowan. It appears in a list of possible Miss Marple stories, although it would not appear to be one with which Miss Marple might be familiar.
Dangerous drugs stolen from car—doctor very upset—excitement in village
Dangerous drugs stolen from doctor’s car—X goes touring in car—follows a doctor in strange town—or Doctor himself is criminal—later marries dead patient’s wife or daughter
Although it never appears as a plot device in its own right, this scenario is one of those mentioned in Hickory Dickory Dock as a means of getting hold of poison. Our old friend the doctor (statistically the most homicidal profession in Christie) resurfaces here and although the idea was jotted down in the late 1930s, the second note may be the inspiration for Dr Quimper in Four-Fifty from Paddington. This idea appears in five Notebooks.
A false Hercule P.—he is in some hotel lunching re-growing one of his moustaches which have been burnt—wild out of the way spot
The ‘wild out of the way spot’ may be the setting of ‘The Erymanthian Boar’, the snowbound top of a Swiss mountain, but the moustache regrowing was never explored despite its appearance in two other Notebooks.
10
Sanctuary: A Holiday for Murder
‘Well—to put it plainly—do you come to places expecting a holiday from crime—and find instead bodies cropping up?’
‘It has happened, yes; more than once.’
Appointment with Death, Part II Chapter 1
SOLUTIONS REVEALED
At Bertram’s Hotel • Evil under the Sun • Hallowe’en Party • Hercule Poirot’s Christmas • Peril at End House • Sad Cypress • Towards Zero
Holidays and festivals have provided backgrounds for a number of Christie stories. Some of them—Peril at End House, Evil under the Sun—interrupt Poirot’s summer holiday; others disrupt his Christmas—Hercule Poirot’s Christmas—while Hallowe’en and Guy Fawkes Day also proved a suitable dramatic backdrop for murder. Some of his more exotic holidays in Petra—Appointment with Death—and Egypt—Death on the Nile—can be found in Chapters 8 and 6 respectively while Miss Marple’s holiday in the Caribbean is discussed in Chapter 8. The other unmistakable family holiday, Afternoon at the Seaside, is discussed in Chapter 9.
Peril at End House
7 February 1932
While holidaying in St Loo Poirot and Hastings meet Nick Buckley, the impoverished owner of End House. When she tells them that she has had three close brushes with death, Poirot investigates, but is unable to avert a real tragedy at End House.
Peril at End House was published on both sides of the Atlantic in early February 1932 with a serialisation in both places some months earlier. This, in turn, would mean that it was written most probably during late 1930/early 1931. The plotting for it is contained in two Notebooks, 59 and 68. Notebook 68 is a very small pocket-diary sized notebook and, apart from a detailed listing of train times from Stockport to Torquay, is devoted entirely to this novel. Notebook 59 also contains extensive notes for the Mr Quin story ‘The Bird with the Broken Wing’, first published in The Mysterious Mr Quin in April 1930, and for ‘Manx Gold’ (see Chapter 5), the treasure hunt story/competition that appeared in May 1930.
Peril at End House is a magnificent example of the Golden Age detective story. It is rarely mentioned in any discussion of Christie’s best titles and yet it embodies all of the virtues of the detective story in its prime: it is told with succinct clarity, enviable readability and scrupulous fairness in clueing. Every single fact the reader needs in order to arrive at the correct solution is given with superb sleight of hand. And like all of the best detective stories the secret of the plot (a mistake in names) is simple—when you know. On page 3 of Notebook 59 Christie uses a telling phrase—‘conversation without having a point’—referring to the early conversation between Poirot and Hastings in the garden of the hotel. At this point in her career virtually every conversation in a novel has a ‘point’—the delineation of an important character trait (the silk stockings episode in Cards on the Table), a hint about motivation (Major Burnaby gruffly discussing crosswords and acrostics in Chapter 1 of The Sittaford Mystery), a major clue (the difficulty established in Chapter 2 of getting a sleeping berth on the normally half-empty Orient Express) or the confirmation of a previously suspected fact (the picnic in Evil under the Sun). And although she refers to a conversation without having a point, there is a mention of the missing airman (the motive) in the actual conversation to which the notes allude.
Peril at End House is interesting not just because of its own virtues but also because of the number of themes and ideas that Christie went on to exploit in later titles:
The murder in Peril at End House takes place during a f
ireworks display when the sound of a gunshot is camouflaged by the sound of fireworks; this idea was to be an important plot feature of the 1936 novella ‘Murder in the Mews’. In fact, it is one of the refinements added to the original version of this story, ‘The Market Basing Mystery’ (see below).
The use of names as a device to fool the reader makes an early appearance in this novel. It was to reappear in Dumb Witness, Mrs McGinty’s Dead, A Murder is Announced and, with an international twist, in Murder on the Orient Express.
A murder method that involves sending poisoned chocolates to a patient in hospital resurfaces three years later in Three Act Tragedy, when it is used to despatch the unfortunate Mrs de Rushbridger.
A vital and poignant clue from the contents of a letter posted by the victim shortly before her death and subsequently forwarded by the recipient to Poirot appears again (and arguably in an even more ingenious form) the following year in Lord Edgware Dies.
The use of cocaine by the ‘smart set’ of the 1930s is revisited in Death in the Clouds when Lady Horbury is found to have cocaine in her dressing-case.
Apart from the letter clue above there are other strong similarities to Lord Edgware Dies—an attractive and ruthless female draws Poirot, for her own purposes, into the case.
Subterfuge concerning wills was also to be a feature of Sad Cypress, A Murder is Announced, Taken at the Flood and Hallowe’en Party.
As usual some of the names change—Lucy Bartlett becomes Maggie Buckley, while Walter Buckhampton is Charles Vyse and the Curtises become the Crofts—but much of the notes tally with the finished novel, leading once more to the suspicion that earlier notes have not survived. Interestingly, in Notebook 59 the character of Nick Buckley is referred to throughout as Egg—the future nickname of Mary Lytton-Gore in Three Act Tragedy; although it is odd that the surname Beresford—already in use for Tommy and Tupppence—is chosen.
Poirot and Hastings sitting in Imperial Hotel—H reads from paper about Polar expedition—a letter from Home Secretary begging Poirot to do something. H urges him to do so—P refuses—no longer any wish for kudos. The garden—girl—someone calls ‘Egg’—Poirot goes down stairs—falls—girl picks him up—she and Hastings assist him to verandah—he thanks her suggests cocktail. H is sent to get them—returns to find pair firm friends
People in this story
Egg Beresford—owner of End House
Cousin Lucy—a distant cousin—2nd or 3rd cousin—Lucy Bartlett
Egg’s cousin Walter Buckhampton—son of her mother’s sister—he works in a solicitor’s office in St. Loo—he loves Egg
Mr and Mrs Curtis—old friends who live next door—he is an invalid who came down there years ago—they seem pleasant and jovial
Freddie—Frederica Rice—a friend—parasite who lives on Egg and admits it frankly
Lazarus—has a big car—often down there—a member of an antique firm in London
The hotel where Poirot and Hastings sit is a real Torquay hotel, the Imperial, with a verandah overlooking Torquay Bay; in the book it is re-imagined as the Majestic Hotel in St Loo. The rest of the cast is recognisable and the opening of the book follows the above plan exactly.
The plot is developed further in Notebook 68; I have indicated the chapters in which the following scenes occur:
At End House they pass Lodge and cottage—man gardening—bald head old fashioned spectacles—stares—admitted to End House—they wait for Nick—old pictures—gloom—damp—decay. Nick enters—slight surprise—Poirot talks to her—shows her bullet [Chapter 2]
They return to Hotel—Freddie Rice talks to Poirot—suggests Nick is an amazing little liar—likes to invent things. Poirot presses her—such as—she talks about brakes of car [Chapter 2]
P asks her if she will send for a woman friend—she suggests ‘My cousin Maggie’—she was to come to me next month—I could ask her to come now—second cousin really—there’s a large family of them—Maggie is the second—she’s a nice girl—but perhaps a bit dull [Chapter 3]
A call upon Mr Vyse—a reference to legal advice—P mentions he called yesterday at 12—but Mr. Vyse was out—Mr Vyse agrees [Chapter 6]
The fireworks—they go over to the Point—Nick and Maggie are to follow—they all watch—they’re a long time. Poirot and H go back—fall over body in scarlet shawl—then see Nick coming—it’s Maggie—Nick with traces of tears on her face [Chapter 7]
‘Murder in the Mews’/’The Market Basing Mystery’
December 1936/October 1923
A quill pen, a dressing case, a game of golf and a cuff link all combine to make Hercule Poirot suspicious of a Guy Fawkes Night suicide.
The ploy of murder disguised as suicide is given the Christie treatment in the novella ‘Murder in the Mews’, an early proof of her ingenuity at ringing the changes on a clichéd plot. This ploy first appeared over ten years earlier in the short story ‘The Market Basing Mystery’, and when she came to elaborate it in the mid-1930s she retained the original idea and added a few refinements. It remains a handbook in detective story writing technique with the main clue brought to the reader’s attention again and again.
As the Notebooks reveal, the 5 November background was originally to have been a very different plot. Among a list of plot ideas in Notebook 20 that included Sad Cypress, ‘Triangle at Rhodes’ and ‘Problem at Sea’ we find the following:
Murderer leaves bodyjust before he finds it (officially)! It has been dead for two hours so he has alibi
Nov. 5th—fireworks going off. Book?
But the only aspect of this jotting that she subsequently used was in ‘Murder in the Mews’, where she adopted the Guy Fawkes connection; echoing Peril at End House four years earlier, it is used as a camouflage for the gunshot. Most of the plotting is in Notebook 30:
Adaptation of Market Basing Mystery
Mrs Allen—young woman living in Mews—engaged to be married—her friend, Jane Petersham—quiet dark girl
The Mews Murder
P and Japp Guy Fawkes day—little boy—back to Japp’s room—a call—young woman shot—in Mayfair
Mrs. Allen—Miss Jane Plenderleith—she arrived home that morning—found her friend dead
Locked cupboard (with golf clubs in) tennis balls—and a couple of empty suitcases.
Pistol in hand too loose—wrist watch on right wrist—blotting paper torn off- stubs of two different cigarettes
Typically, the pages are scattered throughout the Notebook and are interspersed with ideas for stories with a British Museum and National Gallery background, the death of a fortune-teller and much of the plotting for Dumb Witness. Not surprisingly in a novella more than six times the length of the original, most of the material above is new; only the wristwatch clue and the cigarettes are imported from the earlier story. And the characters and background in the two versions are totally different.
Hercule Poirot’s Christmas
19 December 1938
Simeon Lee is a wealthy and horrible old man who enjoys tormenting his family. When he gathers them together for Christmas he sets in motion a train of events that culminates in his own murder. Luckily Hercule Poirot is staying with the Chief Constable and is on hand to investigate.
Published originally during Christmas week, with a serialisation on both sides of the Atlantic a month earlier, this is Christie at her most ingenious. Expert misdirection, scrupulous clueing, an unexpected murderer all coalesce to produce one of the all-time classic titles. Despite its title and publication date, however, there is no Christmas atmosphere whatever, even before the murder occurs. ‘The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding’, an inferior story from every viewpoint, is far more festive. An earlier case, Three Act Tragedy, is discussed in Part III, ‘December 24th’, and a foreshadowing of They Do It with Mirrors appears in Part VI, ‘December 27th’, while the biblical reference to Jael two pages later is the basis of Butter in a Lordly Dish.
There are two pages of Notebook 61 that contain rough note
s for what was to become Hercule Poirot’s Christmas. The pages follow immediately after those for Appointment with Death, published six months earlier:
Blood Feast
Inspector Jones—comes to see old Silas Faraday Chamberlayne—diamond king from S.A.
Characters
A family such as
Arthur—the good stay at home one
Lydia—clever nervy wife
Mervyn—son still at home dilettante artist
Hilda—his very young wife—rather common
David—very mean—sensitive
Dorothy—his articulate wife
Regina—unhappy woman—separated from husband
Caroline—her daughter—fascinating—reportedly bad
Edward—her devoted husband—bad lot
Although some names are accurate—Lydia, Hilda, David—the personality traits are not reflected in the eventual characters; and the last three listed have no equivalents. The policeman’s name changes although Simeon Lee did make his fortune in South Africa.
Of the 65 pages of existing notes, however, most of them are in Notebook 21. Christie opens with the beginning of a quotation from Shakespeare’s Macbeth, which may have been intended as a title, and quickly follows this with sketches of the Lee family. She breaks off to write brief notes for what were to become Curtain and Sad Cypress and then returns to Hercule Poirot’s Christmas. The first draft of the characters is immediately recognisable, apart from the Nurse, who does not appear in the novel:
A. Who would have thought [the old man to have had so much blood in him?]
Old Simeon Lee—A horrid old man
Alfred—the good son—(a prig) bores his father
Lydia—Alfred’s clever well-bred bitter wife—she makes gardens
