4.25 out of 5 stars
I started my journey through all of Agatha Christie's novels in October 2020 with The Mysterious Affair at Styles. This novel brings Poirot full circle, from brand new Belgian refugee to a elderly Belgian in a wheelchair. It was written in the 1940s and stored away until its publication in 1975, so the writing is strong.
Also returning to Styles is a newly widowed Arthur Hastings. He has returned from the Argentine and has been invited by Poirot to Styles. His adult daughter, Judith, is also present, as is her employer, a medical researcher. Hastings admits that his late wife dealt with their children skillfully and that he is woefully unprepared for that role. He really muffs it on several occasions, mostly because he jumps to conclusions rather than asking respectful questions.
Hastings being who he is, Poirot must explain why he has been invited to this gathering, and do so without revealing too much. As he says, Hastings' face is an open book for anyone who pays attention. The criminal is a subtle one, influencing others to do the work for him. Poirot knows exactly how prone to being influenced Hastings is and withholds the identity of this villain to ensure that expressive face doesn't give him away.
Hastings does his best to be an able assistant to Poirot and a dutiful father to Judith. As usual, it's debatable how much success he has at either role. Despite his association for many years with Poirot, he has been unable to see past his social conditioning and prejudices. Poirot's death doesn't prevent the little Belgian from doing the final big reveal via a letter delivered to his friend four months after his death.
I couldn't help feeling sad for Hastings, who has lost both his wife and his friend. I was amazed at the manipulations employed by Poirot in this final case and the disregard of his own personal guidelines in order to achieve a conclusion to the investigation. I am ever so glad that Christie wrote this final Poirot novel when she was at the height of her powers, allowing him depart with a bang, not a whimper.

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