One, Two, Buckle My Shoe by Agatha Christie

My third entry for #1940Club hosted by Simon and Kaggsy is One, Two, Buckle my Shoe by Agatha Christie. I had made a list of all the books I might read for the challenge and this book wasn’t one of them. I was in the mood for some Poirot mystery and this one fit the bill. πŸ™‚

Title: One, Two, Buckle my Shoe (Hercule Poirot #23)

Author: Agatha Christie

First published in 1940

Genre: Mystery & Thrillers

Buy on Amazon

Rating: 3 out of 5.

Poirot loathes going to the dentist. (Who doesn’t?) He observes a weird scenario at the clinic – there’s one man who looks like a murderer. Filling done; Poirot returns home. That same evening, he receives a call from Inspector Japp of the Scotland Yard, saying the dentist was found dead in his room. It’s a case of suicide.

Poirot doesn’t believe that Dr. Morely committed suicide. He was cheerful just an hour before his death – so it’s just not possible for him to take an extreme step out of the blue. Poirot decides to investigate – starts by questioning the patients present at the clinic on that fateful morning and Dr Morley’s employees.

There’s woman that Poirot met on his way out of the clinic – her buckle came off when she got off the taxi. A mysterious woman that many knew. As Poirot digs deeper into the case, the suspects and their alibis match… does this mean the doctor commit suicide? Or is Poirot growing old and unable to spot a liar among the suspects?

“Hercule Poirot wants it to be murder, so it’s got to be murder.”

One, Two, Buckle my Shoe by Agatha Christie

This might come as a surprise to you, but I enjoyed this book for the very fact that papa Poirot was annoyed at his… *coughs* incompetence. Okay, don’t shoot me, he’s not incompetent perhaps, but he certainly wasn’t at his best. There are times when Poirot questions himself, wondering if age is finally getting to him. Hmm, them grey cells not working as usual, Poirot?

It’s not that I don’t like Poirot. My first Christie read was a Poirot – Murder on the Orient Express. I loved his detective skills, and I really don’t mind his eccentricities. But there are times when he’s being a bit too dramatic for my taste. He doesn’t like failures – I suppose Poirot and I are similar in many ways than I want to admit.

I digress.

So, Poirot is curious about his dentist’s suicide. He doesn’t believe the man was capable of killing himself. He decides to dig deeper. The events all add up, you see. The dentist’s secretary was called away on a family emergency that morning – turns out, it was a false telegram. The secretary’s beau is a no-gooder and had a tiff with Dr. Morely. Then there’s the man who looked like a murderer to Poirot. Finally, the woman with a faulty buckled shoe.

Halfway through the story, we have a twist. Something to do the buckled shoe lady. Time passes by, it’s over a month and Poirot’s investigation is stalled. With no proper evidence, there’s nothing he could possibly do. Then comes a shocking discovery. Looks like papa Poirot was right when he said the doctor did not commit suicide.

Overall, this was an okay read. Yes, yes, I was amused at Poirot’s frustration. At the same time, I was impressed his obsession – he was so sure that the doctor didn’t commit suicide. Turns out, he was right. Yet, he doesn’t know how a missing suspect is connected to the murder and why. Maybe, he’s growing old. *ahem*

Coming to the killer’s identity and the reason for murder – it all seemed like an elaborate ploy to hide one detail. Boy, the lengths that one would go to hide their secrets. Phew!

By the way, I wonder if Poirot found another dentist.

Second Opinions: Kaggsy ; Mallika

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6 thoughts on “One, Two, Buckle My Shoe by Agatha Christie

  1. Ah but it was the impact the detail would have that was the important thing! Ages since I read this one, but I do remember enjoying it even if it wasn’t Poirot at his best. The nursery rhyme adds that extra sinister note.

    1. I suppose it makes me a bit evil when I say I liked this book because I was happy to see Poirot struggle. πŸ˜‰

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