The house guests at Styles seemed perfectly pleasant to Captain Hastings; there was his own daughter Judith, an inoffensive ornithologist called Norton, dashing Mr Allerton, brittle Miss Cole, Doctor Franklin and his fragile wife Barbara , Nurse Craven, Colonel Luttrell and his charming wife, Daisy, and the charismatic Boyd-Carrington.

So Hastings was shocked to learn from Hercule Poirot’s declaration that one of them was a five-times murderer. True, the ageing detective was crippled with arthritis, but had his deductive instincts finally deserted him?…

‘Curtain‘, the final Poirot novel, was published in 1975 but written during World War II. Agatha Christie stored it and ‘Sleeping Murder‘, the last Jane Marple book, in a bank vault for more than thirty years. This probably explains why‘Curtain’ is a much stronger novel than ‘Elephants Can Remember’, the previous Poirot novel in order of publication, published in 1972. 

For me, ‘Curtain’ was a deeply satisfying read. It was an engaging mystery, strewn with fascinating upper-class characters whose lives and relationships were complicated enough to provide a wealth of entangled sub-plots that confused Hastings, stimulated and saddened Poirot, while painting a picture of a declining Empire and changing times.  

I loved that the story was told once more from Hastings’ point of view. and that the mystery was set at Styles, the scene of the first case that Hastings and Poirot worked together on. Hastings is mostly absent from the later Poirot novels, and I think they were the poorer for it. Having Hastings return, and having Poirot solve his last case in the same place that he solved his first, set a context for Poirot’s life and his relationship with Hastings that enriched the novel. 

The dramatic denouement provided the perfect end to Poirot’s career. As with the best Poirot novels, it was unexpected and explained all the elements of the mystery in a way that made it feel as though I should have worked out what was happening much earlier, if only I’d been as bright as Poirot. What made the ending outstanding was not what it told me about the person Poirot has been pursuing, but what it told me about Poirot himself. 

I’ve never liked Poirot; his Papa Poirot persona felt like a disguise, and his desire for justice seemed an excuse to exercise his ego, but this book awakened in me some sympathy for him. It displayed him at his best and it his worst. It also showed how deeply and honestly he understood his own nature. 

The Poirot we see through Hastings’ eyes at their initial reunion is a man whose physical capabilities are in decline. He is using a wheelchair, tires easily and needs to be carried up and down the stairs at Styles. His mind is still sharp, and his temper is shorter than ever. Where he used to treat Hastings with amused condescension, he now shows an angry frustration that borders on contempt. 

Poirot’s final actions both condemned and redeemed him in my eyes. In the end, he proved his self-awareness, his resolve to do the right thing and his enduring affection for Hastings.