I also read The ABC Murders by Agatha Christie. I love Hercule Poirot but I find that a difficulty with re-reading murder mysteries (after ten... fifteen years) is that I become convinced that I remember who the murderer is... I see all these clues that point directly to my murderer, and then I'm wrong. On first readings this is exciting, but on seconds it annoys me. In this one, M. Poirot chases a serial killer, which is neat. My favorite, as always, is M. Poirot's condescending attitude towards Hastings and, well, everyone else. If you took Doctor House, and made him superficially polite and addicted to chocolate and moustaches instead of vicodin, you'd have Hercule Poirot.