- By Agatha Christie
- First published: UK: Collins, September 1933; USA: Dodd Mead, 1933, as Thirteen at Dinner
One of the best of the early books, with one of Christie’s most ingenious alibis. Everyone thinks sadistic Lord Edgware was killed by his actress wife, desperate for a divorce,—until her cast-iron alibi was revealed. This murder, and two others, including a gifted mimic, is ably solved by Poirot with the help of plentiful psychological clues (including a delightful one about the Fall of Troy). The identity of the murderer comes as a distinct surprise to the equally obtuse Captain Hastings and Chief Inspector Japp.
Blurb (UK)
Supper at the Savoy! Hercule Poirot, the famous little detective, was enjoying a pleasant little supper party there as the guest of Lady Edgware, formerly Jane Wilkinson, a beautiful young American actress. During the conversation Lady Edgware speaks of the desirability of getting rid of her husband, Lord Edgware, since he refuses to divorce her, and she wants to marry the Duke of Merton. M. Poirot jocularly replies that getting rid of husbands is not his speciality. Within twenty-four hours, however, Lord Edgware dies. This amazing story once more reveals Agatha Christie as the perfect teller of Detective stories. It will be difficult indeed to lay down the book until one learns the true solution of the mystery.
Blurb (US)
“You think she would do—murder?”
Poirot watched him intently.
Bryan drew a deep breath.
“Upon my soul, I do. Perhaps one of these days you’ll remember my words… I know her, you see. She’d kill as easily as she’d drink her morning tea—”
The “she” they were discussing was the famous actress, Jane Wilkinson, and Poirot did indeed have occasion to remember Bryan’s words. For only a few days later, Lord Edgware, Jane’s eccentric and irascible husband, was found murdered in his study at Regent Gate!
To Inspector Japp of Scotland Yard the case was clear. Motive and opportunity were obvious. But for Poirot there were certain intangible complications—little inconsistencies which set the famous “grey cells” in motion and eventually led to the discovery of one of the most diabolically clever murders in his experience.
Thirteen at Dinner is a brand new, full length, Agatha Christie mystery in which the renowned Hercule Poirot plays the central rôle! What further endorsement is necessary? Herein are several hours of suspense delight for the detective story fan in the company of such dashing characters as only the author of Roger Ackroyd and The Blue Train could create.
Contemporary reviews
Times Literary Supplement (29th June 1933): In Lord Edgware Dies we are reintroduced to an old friend, M. Hercule Poirot. The eminent Belgian detective himself feels a little doubtful about his latest case, for he says that it was the chance remark of a stranger in the street that put him on the right track. Three such murders, however, are enough to tax the powers of the most superhuman sleuth, and we do not grudge him one stroke of good fortune. The large number of suspects—some of them actors and one a trained impersonator—adds to his difficulties and our enjoyment. The mystery is finally elucidated before an astonished audience in one of M. Poirot’s familiar speeches; and the whole case is a triumph of his special qualities, “the order and the method”.
New Statesman (Ralph Partridge, 14th October 1933): A DETECTIVE MASTERPIECE
Mrs. Agatha Christie is quite beyond criticism, unless it be that she does not write enough novels. Lord Edgware Dies is the best detective story published this year. There is no tedium and no hurry in the solving of the murder; every character is suspicious and plausibly suspicious, and the weight of accusation is equally distributed. Poirot is the secret of Mrs. Christie’s triumphs. She has invented a perfect technique for her detective in his personal interviews with every suspect. His Belgian idioms distract the reader just enough from the sense of what he is saying to conceal the real upshot of every interview, which is to intensify suspiciousness without appearing to allay it. Nobody can have a talk with Poirot without letting some cat out of the bag, and yet the moment the cat is out Poirot dexterously replaces the animal, almost without the reader’s notice. By this means Mrs. Christie gets her climax. Our anxiety to identify the real clue from among all the apparent clues becomes cumulative and the dénouement comes as a sudden relief. But besides this dramatic value, Poirot’s relentless “Yes” and “No” to every question one wants finally answered, allows Mrs. Christie to be absolutely fair with the psychology of her characters. Her criminals need never be insane, and no one need hurriedly develop from a charwoman to a Borgia or from Jekyll to Hyde. It is impossible to cavil at the solution of Lord Edgware’s murder; the answer to all our questions when it comes is completely satisfactory—and of how few detective stories nowadays is one able to say that?
Sat R of Lit (23rd September 1933, 30w): Among the better efforts of an uneven author. Conclusion cheerfully ruthless.
Books (Will Cuppy, 24th September 1933, 280w): A clever puzzle, expertly riddled.
NY Times (Isaac Anderson, 24th September 1933, 250w): This story presents a most ingenious crime puzzle and a still more ingenious solution, all set forth with the consummate skill of which Agatha Christie is mistress.
Sunday Times (Dorothy L. Sayers): It is always a delight to meet Hercule Poirot again… He is one of the few real detectives… Lord Edgware Dies is a very good Poirot adventure. Mrs. Christie’s touch seems to me to become firmer and her style mellower as she adds book to book. I give it full marks.
John O’London’s Weekly: Mrs. Christie is evidently as much in love with her Belgian detective as all her admirers are, and an additional warmth creeps into her writing when she writes of him.
The Grandest Game in the World 