Agatha Christie's Secret Notebooks

Crooked House • Five Little Pigs • ‘Four and Twenty Blackbirds’ • Hickory Dickory Dock • ‘How Does Your Garden Grow?’ • Ordeal by Innocence • A Pocket Full of Rye • ‘Sing a Song of Sixpence’ • Ten Little Niggers • ‘The Tuesday Night Club’

The attraction of children’s literature, either as titles or themes, has often provided crime writers with inspiration. Dickson Carr’s The Arabian Nights Murder, Douglas Browne’s The Looking Glass Murders, McBain’s Snow White and Rose Red and Rumpelstiltskin, Queen’s There Was an Old Woman, Smith’s This Is the House, Witting’s There Was a Crooked Man and Fuller’s With My Little Eye are all drawn from the playroom, while S.S. Van Dine’s The Bishop Murder Case uses Mother Goose as a theme. The attraction is obvious—the juxtaposition of the childlike and the chilling, the twisting of the mundane into the macabre.

But it was Agatha Christie who made it her own and exploited it more comprehensively than any other writer. There are numerous references to nursery rhymes scattered throughout the Notebooks. Sometimes the idea went no further than a brief jotting (see ‘Miscellaneous’ on page 129); others provided her with some of her greatest works—Ten Little Niggers, Five Little Pigs and Three Blind Mice/The Mousetrap. In some cases it provides no more than a title, Hickory Dickory Dock and One, Two, Buckle my Shoe; in some cases, Ten Little Niggers and A Pocket Full of Rye, it provides the book with an overall schema; while the use of Crooked House and Three Blind Mice is more symbolic than actual. The most successful are undoubtedly Five Little Pigs and Ten Little Niggers, where the rhyme is convincingly and ingeniously followed. The dramatic impact of an innocent nursery rhyme transforming into a killer’s calling card is irresistible to an imaginative crime writer such as Agatha Christie.

Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye, Four and twenty blackbirds, baked in a pie, When the pie was opened, the birds began to sing, Was not that a dainty dish to set before the king?

The king was in his counting-house, counting out his money, The queen was in the parlour, eating bread and honey, The maid was in the garden, hanging out the clothes When down came a blackbird and pecked off her nose.

The most fruitful nursery rhyme was ‘Sing a Song of Sixpence’, which provided no less than three titles: the novel A Pocket Full of Rye, and the short stories ‘Sing a Song of Sixpence’ and ‘Four and Twenty Blackbirds’. In the case of the short stories, only the title has been inspired by the rhyme, whereas the novel follows the pattern of the rhyme very closely.

A sixpenny piece helps to solve a brutal murder that has left a family divided with mutual suspicion.

Although there are no surviving notes for ‘Sing a Song of Sixpence’—unsurprisingly, since it made such an early appearance in the Christmas 1929 edition of Holly Leaves—there is a reference to it in Notebook 56. Appearing as it does among the notes for A Pocket Full of Rye, this is unusual in, puzzlingly, also appearing to make reference to the already published Crooked House.

Sing a Song of Sixpence

The crooked sixpence found (a Crooked man Crooked wife

Crooked house)

An aspect of this short story that has escaped the attention of Christie commentators is its similarity to Ordeal by Innocence (see Chapter 7). ‘Sing a Song of Sixpence’ features the arrival of an outside investigator, Sir Edward Palliser, at the home of Miss Crabtree, who has been murdered by a blow to the head administered by a member of her own household. Because no one has been arrested for the crime, her family describe how ‘they sit there every day looking at each other surreptitiously and wondering’. In this atmosphere of mutual suspicion he reaches a solution which explicitly foreshadows the 1958 novel.

A plea for help to Poirot is too late to save Amelia Barrowby, but he is determined to get to the truth.

Mary, Mary, quite contrary How does your garden grow? With silver bells and cockle-shells And pretty maids all in a row.

This short nursery rhyme features no less than five times throughout the Notebooks, even though its words gave the title of just one short story, ‘How Does Your Garden Grow?’. But it seems to have made an impression on Christie’s mind as she often referred to it in the course of plotting other titles. And there are similarities between this short story and a novel she planned but never wrote. The story was first published in the UK in The Strand, having appeared some months earlier in Ladies’ Home Journal in the USA. This story’s connection to the nursery rhyme is stronger than ‘Sing a Song of Sixpence’ or ‘Four and Twenty Blackbirds’, as it includes the shells, the garden and the killer’s name. Mary Delafontaine poisons her aunt and hides the shells of the fatal oysters among the other cockle shells used as decoration in her garden. She tries, unsuccessfully, to incriminate the foreign companion:

The old lady—the foreign girl—Mary—the ‘weak’ husband

The final plot is encapsulated in Notebook 20:

Oyster story—Man dies after dinner—strychnine in oyster—swallowed—shells out in garden or in shell box—food analysed—nothing. Possibly some complication about a cachet he took—or someone gave him—if so, unjustly accused

It is another example of one of Christie’s favourite early plot devices—the summoning of Poirot to the scene of a suspected crime only to discover when he arrives that he is too late. As early as 1923 she first used this idea in The Murder on the Links, and subsequently in ‘The Cornish Mystery’, Dumb Witness and ‘The Incident of the Dog’s Ball’ (see the Appendix). It can be seen why—it has an emotional and a practical impact. The summoner, who has promised to explain the situation in detail, is now unable to do so and Poirot has a moral, as well as a practical, imperative to solve the crime. There is also the plot device of the victim having known ‘too much’, always a good way to start a detective story. In ‘How Does Your Garden Grow?’, the appearance of a Russian character would have been very unusual in detective fiction of the day. In fact, the appearance of any foreigner (including Poirot) is always viewed with suspicion by the inhabitants of small villages throughout the Christie canon. And, of course—as can be seen in Dumb Witness—this allowed Christie to subvert, yet again, the readers’ prejudices.

The eponymous main character, Mary Delafontaine, became a byword in Christie’s shorthand, appearing in abbreviated form in the course of plotting Third Girl and Ordeal by Innocence respectively, even though she was used in the final plot of neither novel:

Mary Del.—Arthur (innocent husband)—Katrina—suspicious, passionate—for money looks after old boy

Olivia (The Mary Delafontaine wife)

The name was also used for one of the victims in The Pale Horse; she is a friend of Mrs Oliver in Chapter 1 and she appears on Father Gorman’s doomed list in the following chapter.

Ten strangers are invited to a weekend on an island off the coast of Devon. Their host fails to appear and a series of deaths among their fellow-guests make them realise that one of them is a killer following the macabre nursery rhyme that hangs in each bedroom.

Ten little nigger boys went out to dine One choked his little self and then there were nine; Nine little nigger boys sat up very late One overslept himself and then there were eight; Eight little nigger boys travelling in Devon One said he’d stay there and then there were seven; Seven little nigger boys chopping up sticks One chopped himself in half and then there were six; Six little nigger boys playing with a hive A bumble bee stung one and then there were five; Five little nigger boys going in for law One got in Chancery and then there were four; Four little nigger boys going out to sea A red herring swallowed one and then there were three; Three little nigger boys walking in the Zoo A big bear hugged one and then there were two; Two little nigger boys sitting in the sun One got frizzled up and then there was one; One little nigger boy left all alone He went and hanged himself and then there were none.

Ten Little Niggers (also known as And Then There Were None) is Agatha Christie’s most famous novel, her greatest technical achievement and the best-selling crime novel of all time. Of all the ‘nursery rhyme’ titles this is the one that sticks closest to its origins. Although Christie adopted the ‘He got married and then there were none’ ending for the stage adaptation, she used the original ending for the climax of the novel. The existence of the rhyme is a constant theme throughout the novel, especially when the characters realise what is happening. The manner of each death cleverly echoes the rhyme, the only slightly jarring note being the death of Blore where the difficult Zoo idea is somewhat stretched.

With the writing of this book Christie set herself a challenge and in her Autobiography she describes how the difficulty of the central idea attracted her: ‘Ten people had to die without it becoming ridiculous. I wrote the book after a tremendous amount of planning…It was clear, straightforward, baffling and yet had a perfectly reasonable explanation…the person who was really pleased with it was myself, for I knew better than any critic how difficult it had been.’

As we saw in Chapter 2, this ‘tremendous planning’ is not evident from Notebook 65, the only one to feature this novel. This Notebook does, however, include interesting details of various characters that did not make it into the completed book. And, on the evidence of the Notebooks alone, it would seem to be the characters themselves that gave most trouble. At no stage are ten characters listed. At first there are eight (I have added probable names to both lists, although Vera Claythorne, Emily Brent, Philip Lombard and General MacArthur appear in the novel as listed in the Notebook, although minor background details were to change):

Ten Niggers

Doctor—drunk at op—or careless [Dr Armstrong]

Judge—unjust Summing Up [Judge Wargrave]

Man and Wife—Servants (did in old lady) [Mr and Mrs Rogers]

Girl—whose lover shot himself [Vera]

Husband and wife—Blackmailing

Allenby—Youngish man—dangerous alert [Lombard]

At a later stage, to judge from the change from pencil to pen and the slightly different handwriting, she tries again. This time she includes 12 characters:

1. Vera Claythorne—Secretary at school—has applied at agency for holiday post

2. Mr Justice Swettenham in first class carriage [Judge Wargrave]

3. Doctor—telegram from Gifford—Can you join us—etc. [Dr Armstrong]

4 5. Capt and Mrs Winyard—Letters—mutual friend Letty Harrington—Come for weekend

6. Lombard—visited by solicitor or confidential agent—offered one hundred guineas—take it or leave it

7. University student who runs over children—a bit tight—arrives in car [Anthony Marston]

8. Llewellyn Oban—Committed perjury in murder case—man executed [Blore]

9. Emily Brent—turned out maidservant—later drank oxalic acid—letter from someone starting guest house and is a friend of hers—free stay

10 11. Man and wife servant [Mr and Mrs Rogers]

12. General MacArthur—killed 30 men unnecessarily in war

Each of the lists includes a husband-and-wife combination, Capt. and Mrs Winyard in the latter list, and these were the ones to be dropped. The second listing is much nearer to that of the novel although it is possible to discern the germ of the characters in the first tentative listing.

Two further refinements to the plot are included between characters 8 and 9 in the Notebook. Most of the guests to the island are lured by arrangements or invitations made by a Mr or Mrs Owens, sometimes with the initials ‘U.N.’ or, as Justice Wargrave says at the end of Chapter 3, ‘by a slight stretch of fancy: UNKNOWN’. The initials undergo a few variations and the first note below is probably the seed of this idea. The second note refers to the diminishing collection of china figurines on the dining-room table:

Ulick Noel Nomen

Ten Little Niggers on dinner table

After a blank page the notes begin with Chapter 9 and, over the next six pages, trace the course of the rest of the novel including the scene at Scotland Yard. This means that the last seven murders (from Rogers onwards) are all covered in this relatively short space, lending further support to the theory that the plotting for the book was done elsewhere and Notebook 65 represents the almost-finished plot.

Chapter IX

Judge takes charge—exhibits a good deal of quickwittidness [sic]—Armstrong and Wargrave—Judge has an idea. The storm comes on—all of them huddled into a room—nerves crackling. Next morning—no Rogers—no sign of him—breakfast not laid. Men search island—at breakfast—suddenly Vera sees—Seven Six niggers. Growing suspicion of Emily—a face watches her—a wasp stings her—dead bee on floor. Everyone terrified—all keep together. Where’s old Wargrave—they find him dressed up in red robe and wig. He and Blore carry him up—the dining room—still 5 niggers. The 3 of them—criminal must be Armstrong. Finally: body washed up Armstrong! Blore crushed by falling rock. Vera and Lombard—one of us—her fears—self preservation—she gets his revolver—finally she shoots him—at last—safe—Hugo

The investigation—

The other deaths Owen? V and L last? Mrs R[ogers] and AM [Marston] all dead—

Morris dead too—he did all arrangements—committed suicide—dead—

Young man suggests Wargrave—Edward Seton was guilty—Old Wargrave was queer

Epilogue—Letter in bottle—he describes how it was done

One idea that was abandoned was that of a ‘watcher’ throughout the action. After the death of Emily Brent we read in the Notebook that ‘A face watches her’; and at the climax of the story, when Vera goes up to her room the notes read ‘Goes up to her bedroom—the noose—man steps out of darkness’. In retrospect the reader can imagine the killer ‘watching’ the

unfolding of his plan, both before and after his supposed death, but it appears from these brief references that Christie toyed with the idea of mentioning the nameless ‘watcher’. Far more effective and less melodramatic, however, is the concept she adopted at the end of Chapter 11, and again in Chapter 13, when she allows us to share the thoughts of the six remaining characters, including the killer’s, but without identifying the thinker.

Hercule Poirot’s dentist’s appointment coincides with the murder of his dentist. A shoe buckle, a disappearance and more deaths follow before he can say ‘Nineteen, twenty, My plate’s empty.’

One, two, buckle my shoe Three, four, shut the door Five, six, pick up sticks Seven, eight, lay them straight Nine, ten, a big fat hen Eleven, twelve, men must delve Thirteen, fourteen, maids are courting Fifteen, sixteen, maids in the kitchen Seventeen, eighteen, maids in waiting Nineteen, twenty, my plate’s empty…

The notes for this novel are contained in four Notebooks with the majority (over 75 pages) in Notebook 35. They alternate for much of that Notebook with the notes for Five Little Pigs. One, Two, Buckle my Shoe is Christie’s most complicated novel. It features a triple impersonation and a complex murder plot with its beginnings in the distant past. The novel turns on the identity of a dead body but, unlike Four-Fifty from Paddington, it is a tantalising, rather than an aggravating, question.

The only aspect of this novel that does not ring true is, ironically, the use of the nursery rhyme. It is strained and unconvincing and, apart from the all-important shoe buckle, the rhyme has little or no significance other than providing chapter titles. This is confirmed by the following extract from Notebook 35 where Christie jots down the rhyme and tries to match ideas to each section. As can be seen, they are not very persuasive and in fact few of them, apart from the shoe buckle, went into the novel:

One Two Buckle my Shoe—the Shoe Buckle—think of it—the start of this case

The Closed Door—something about a door—either room locked or something not heard through closed door when it should have been.

Picking up sticks—assembling clues

Lay them Straight—order and method

A good fat hen—the will—read—rich woman it was who died—murdered woman—fat elderly—two girls—man recently coming to live with rich relative?

Men must Delve—Digging up garden—another body—discovered buried in garden—wrong owner of shoe buckle?

Maids a courting—2 girls—heiresses of Fat Hen? Or would have been connected by husband of fat hen—in collusion with maid servant

Maids in the kitchen—servant’s gossip

Maids in Waiting?

My Plate is Empty

End

Clue—a shoe buckle

An example of the type of organised listing that occurs throughout the Notebooks, the plot of One, Two, Buckle my Shoe occurs as Idea H on a list from A to U. This list looks to have been written straight off with three or four ideas to a page in the same handwriting and with the same pen. Most of them have more detail included but Idea H below is exactly as it appears (the possibility of combining it with the twins or chambermaid idea—see also ‘The House of Dreams’, page 303—was not pursued).

Ideas

A. Poirot’s Last Case—history repeats itself—Styles now a guest house [Curtain]

B. Remembered Death—Rosemary dead [Sparkling Cyanide]

C. Dangerous drug stolen from doctor’s car. [See Hickory Dickory Dock below and ‘The House of Dreams’]

D. Legless man—sometimes tall—sometimes short

E. Identical twins (one killed in railway smash)

F. Not identical twins

G. A murderer is executed—afterwards is found to be innocent [Five Little Pigs/Ordeal by Innocence]

H. Dentist Murder Motive? Chart substitution? Combine with E? or F? or J?

I. Two women—arty friends—ridiculous—one is crook

J. Chambermaid in hotel accomplice of man

K. Stamps—but stamps on letter [‘Strange Jest’]

L. Prussic acid

M. Caustic potash in cachet

N. Stabbed through eye with hatpin

O. Witness in murder case—quite unimportant—offered post abroad

P. Third Floor Flat idea

Q. Figurehead of ship idea

R. Prussic acid—‘Cry’ in bath

S. Diabetic idea—insulin (substitute something else) [Crooked House]

T. Body in the Library—Miss Marple [The Body in the Library]

U. Stored blood idea, wrong blood

A few pages later, the germ of the plot emerges although, as can be seen from the question marks, the idea was hazy. As we saw in Chapter 3, Christie considered a multitude of possibilities in working out its plot. But apart from a name change this short musing is the basis of the novel:

Dead woman supposed to be actress? Rose Lane—(really is Rose Lane) but body shown to be someone else—

Why?

Why???

Why?????

From the (admittedly unscientific) evidence that the word ‘dentist’ occurs 65 times in the Notebooks against a mere 13 appearances for the word ‘buckle’, it would seem that the background came before the all-important clue, or, even the nursery rhyme. But this combination of dentist—his family, patients, surgery and, vitally, files—together with the rhyme and its accompanying main clue, gave Christie the ideal situation for creating confusion about the identification of an unrecognisable body. She could now get down to serious plot development:

Dentist Murder

H.P. in dentist’s chair—latter talking while drilling Points:

(1) Never forget a face—patient—can’t remember where I saw him before—it will come back to me

(2) Other angles—a daughter—engaged to a rip of a young man—father disapproves

(3) Professional character—his partner

Much hinges on evidence of teeth (death of dentist)

Dentist murdered—H.P. in waiting room at time—patients charts removed or substituted

Dentist—HP in waiting room—sent away

Rings Japp—or latter rings him

Do you remember who was in waiting room?

She begins to develop the novel’s characters, sketching in tentative notes about names and backgrounds, in a well-ordered list of the scenes that would introduce them:

Latest dentist ideas

Little silhouettes of the people going to Mr Claymore that day

1 Mr Claymore himself at breakfast

2 Miss D—mentions a day off or just gets telephone call

3 Miss Cobb or Miss Slob at breakfast—Miss C saying much better—not aching

4 Mr Amberiotis—talk of his landlady—about his tooth—careful English

5 Caroline—(young swindler?) or Mr Bell (dentist’s daughter lover—American? Trying to see father)

6 Dentist’s partner—rings—can he come up to see him—a service lift—unprofessional conduct?

7 Mr. Marron Levy—a board meeting—a little snappy—admits at end—toothache—gets into Daimler—29 Harley St.

8 H.P. His tooth—his conversation with dentist—meets on the stairs—woman with very white teeth?

Later Japp—suspicious foreigner

Not all of the characters that she sketched made it into the novel and those that did appeared under different names. The dentist victim became Morley instead of Claymore, Miss D became Gladys Neville, and Marron Levy became Alistair Blunt. Mr Bell possibly became Frank Carter, the boyfriend of Gladys, and Miss Cobb’s conviction that her toothache is improving is similar to our eventual introduction to Miss Sainsbury Seale. Miss Slob and Caroline were abandoned after this listing. Oddly, the shoe buckle is not mentioned at all here and the white-toothed woman mentioned in item 8 has replaced or, more likely, foreshadowed, Miss Sainsbury Seale.

Throughout the notes Christie continued trying to fit her ingenious plot into the plan of the nursery rhyme:

1—2

Miss S going to dentist

Mr Mauro

Miss Nesbit

Mr Milton

H.P. in waiting room—shoe buckle—loose—annoys him

3—4

Japp comes—P. goes with him—interview partner’s wife?—secretary etc.

5—6

The body—evidence of identity destroyed—but identified from clothes. Mrs Chapman’s flat—the shoes—either a buckle missing or one found there

9—10

Julia Olivera—married not in love—Aunty Julia—‘the daughter is attractive’

11—12

Men Must Delve—dentist’s secretary had been crying because young man has lost his job. In garden next morning—the gardener—P goes round a bush—Frank Carter—digging

13—14

Mrs Adams—that conversation—then—in park Jane and Howard

15—16

Final Maids in the Kitchen touch—one of the maids upstairs looked over—saw Carter—watched Carter went in—saw dentist dead

17—18

Miss Montressor—dark—striking—gardening—her footprint in bed

19—20

P outlines case—smart patent new shoe—foot and ankle strap—buckle torn off. Later woman found—shoe and buckle sewn on. It was a woman’s shabby shoe—other was new

But it just doesn’t work. The early sections—the buckle, picking up sticks (clues) and laying them straight (interpreting them)—are acceptable. But the gardening motif (‘men must delve’) and the maids looking over the banisters are simply unconvincing. The dauntingly clever plot does not need this window-dressing and the book can stand, without any references to the rhyme, as a supreme example of detective fiction.

If, however, any further proof were necessary of the ingenuity and fertility of Agatha Christie, a glance at almost any page of Notebook 35 would supply it. The following ideas are scattered throughout the notes for One, Two, Buckle my Shoe. None of them was used.

Idea of two women—one criminal working with man goes to dentist—simply in order to give man alibi

Harvey—rich, unscrupulous—married to young wife—a widow when he married her—had she murdered first husband?

Or Double suicide man and woman—one of them not the person—therefore suicide not murder—dentist could have identified her

M. wants to get rid of someone—(his wife?) therefore he kills his wife and another man but it proves not to be his wife but another woman

Poirot investigates the mysterious death of an elderly man when his suspicions are aroused—by the man’s diet.

The title of ‘Four and Twenty Blackbirds’ appears for the first time in Notebook 20:

4 and 20 blackbirds

Located ahead of Christie’s reminder to herself (‘To be added—Sketch of Leatheran career—Chapter II’) to amend Murder in Mesopotamia, this dates it to the mid-1930s, at least six years before the story first appeared. A rough sketch of the story itself appears in Notebook 66 just ahead of a sketch for ‘Triangle at Rhodes’:

Impersonation of old man—he eats a different meal on the Tuesday—nothing else noticed. Died later.

Mr P Parker Pyne—They talk—points out elderly man with a horn beamed and spectacles eye-glass—bushy eyebrows

Old fellow hasn’t turned up—waiter says he is upset—first noticed it a fortnight ago—when he wouldn’t have his jam roll—had blackberry tart instead. Sees body—teeth—no blackberry tart. Empty house—fell downstairs—dead—open letter

There is one particularly surprising aspect of the jottings in Notebook 66—the allocation of this case to Parker Pyne instead of Hercule Poirot. In fact this change could be quite easily imagined; this is not one of the more densely plotted Poirot stories, and it is probable that market forces dictated the substitution of the Belgian. And as we shall see, this is not an isolated example of the interchangeability of characters.

It has to be said that the connection to the nursery rhyme is very tenuous. For the purposes of the story the blackbirds of the rhyme become blackberries: the main clue is the lack of discoloration of the victim’s teeth (‘Sees body—teeth—no blackberry tart’) despite the fact that he was seen to eat blackberry pie shortly before his supposed death. The rather obvious disguise is the other important element of the tale. A more fitting title is that used on the story’s first US appearance in Colliers Magazine in November 1940, ‘The Case of the Regular Customer’.

Carla Lemarchant approaches Hercule Poirot and asks him to vindicate her mother, who died in prison 16 years earlier while serving a sentence for the murder of her husband. Poirot approaches the five other suspects and asks them to write accounts of the events leading up to the fatal day.

Published in the UK in January 1943, having already appeared in the US six months earlier, Five Little Pigs is the apex of Christie’s career as a detective novelist; it is her most perfect combination of detective and ‘straight’ novel. The characters are carefully drawn and the tangle of relationships more seriously realised than in any other Christie title. It is a cunning and scrupulously clued formal detective novel, an elegiac love story and a masterly example of story-telling technique with five individual accounts of one devastating event. And in this novel at least, the use of the admittedly short rhyme is not forced. Each of the five main characters is perfectly reflected in the words of the verse. And perhaps because there are no further verses, the analogy does not seem strained (as, for instance, it does in the case of One, Two, Buckle my Shoe). But, as the Notebooks reveal, the journey to the book we now know was neither straightforward nor obvious.

From the technical point of view the test Christie sets herself in this novel is daunting. As well as the 16-year gap between the crime and its investigation she limits herself to just five possible murderers. Seven years earlier she had first experimented with the device of a small circle of suspects; in Cards on the Table she limits herself to just four bridge-players. She attempts a similar problem with Five Little Pigs, although this time she allows herself some physical clues in the shape of a glass, a beer bottle and a crushed pipette.

It is also the greatest of Christie’s ‘murder in the past’ plots. In fact if we don’t count Dumb Witness—the investigation of a two-month-old murder—it is also the first of such plots. Alderbury, the scene of the crime, is based closely on Christie’s own Greenway House and the geography of the story corresponds exactly with its grounds. The Battery, where Elsa poses on the battlements and watches her lover die, looks out over the River Dart and the path where the crushed pipette is found leads back up to Greenway House.

This map from Notebook 35 shows the murder scene in Five Little Pigs with the Boathouse on the left (also the scene of a murder in Dead Man’s Folly), Greenway House in the top right-hand corner, and the positions of Miss W(illiams) and C(aroline). The photo of the Battery from the time of writing shows the wall where Elsa posed.

The nursery rhyme is quoted in full in Notebook 35, heralding 75 pages of notes:

5 Little Pigs

One Little Piggy went to Market (Market Basing)

1 little “ stayed at home

1 little “ had roast beef

1 little “ had none

1 little “ wa-wa-wee-wee

But it was a long and frustrating process before she arrived at the masterly plot. It is not until 60 pages into the plotting that the plot she eventually used took serious shape. Before that, she had considered a different murder method, a different murderer and different suspects; in fact, a different story altogether.

Her ‘five little pigs’ are successful businessman Philip Blake and his stay-at-home brother Meredith, both childhood friends of the victim, artist Amyas Crale; Elsa Greer, Amyas’s model and mistress; Angela Warren, sister of the convicted Caroline; and Miss Williams, Angela’s governess. At the start of the notes we can clearly see the forerunners of these five main characters, although, as yet, Christie had not decided on the victim, let alone the villain:

Girl—(New Zealand) learns her mother has been tried and condemned for murder—possibly convicted to penal s[ervitude]—for life and then died

Great shock—she is an heiress uncle having left her all his money—gets engaged—tells man her real name and facts—sees look in his eye—decides then and there to do something about it—her mother not guilty—comes to H.P.

The past—18 years ago? 1920-24

If not guilty who was?

4 (or 5) other people in house (a little like Bordens?)

Did mother murder

A. Husband

B. Lover

C. Rich uncle or guardian

D. Another woman (jealousy)

Who were the other people—Possibilities

Servant—Irish girl rather dumb—Ellen

Housekeeper—woman—reserved—practical—another Carlo

Girl—15 at time (now 30 odd) (a Judy?)

Man—English gentleman—fond of gardening etc.

Woman—Actress?

The early notes are a relatively accurate plan of what was to follow, but there are minor differences. Carla Lemarchant (‘the Girl’) is a Canadian rather than a New Zealander; and of the five sketches for possible characters one of them, ‘the dumb Irish servant girl Ellen’, is completely dropped. The ‘Girl’ and the ‘Man’ eventually became Angela and Meredith respectively; the ‘housekeeper’ is the prototype for Miss Williams and the ‘woman’ becomes Elsa Greer—although not a professional actress, she is in many ways the consummate performer.

There are three references that may require explanation. The reference to ‘Bordens’ is to the infamous Lizzie Borden murder case in Fall River, Massachusetts in August 1892 when Mr and Mrs Borden were hacked to death in the family home while their daughter Lizzie and the Irish maid Bridget were in the house. Although Lizzie was tried for the brutal murders, she was acquitted and no one was ever convicted. To this day her guilt or innocence is still a matter of debate and argument. ‘Carlo’ is Carlo Fisher, Agatha Christie’s personal secretary and, ultimately, friend. She first came to her in 1924 and stayed for the rest of her working life. ‘Judy’ is in all probability Judith Gardner, the daughter of Agatha’s friend Nan Gardner (née Kon).

We can immediately see a major problem with the set-up laid out above. There are four female characters and only one male. As the last three are obviously Angela, Meredith and Elsa respectively, the first two names are the ones to go. Subsequent attempts bring her closer to the final arrangement:

The 5 people

Miss Williams elderly Caro—devoted to Caroline

Mrs Sargent—Caro’s elder half-sister—married money—etc.

Lucy—husband’s sister—violently anti-Caro

A. (Idea)—Caro has injured a sister or brother when a child owing to her ungovernable temper—she believes this s[ister] or b[rother] did crime—therefore feels that she is expiating and gains content

Is s[ister] or b[rother] No 5—Wee-Wee

And eventually she arrives at the five suspects in the novel itself. The following brief notes reflect accurately, apart from a name change of Carslake to Blake, the ‘five little pigs‘ and their inter-relationships:

Philip Carslake—George‘s Hill—Prosperous—his best friend—Amyas—virulent against Caro—Describes how the injured step sister—as instance of her temper—induced to write an account—

Meredith—his home—takes P up to house—(now a hostel for youth) ghosts—he explains—will write—hedges about Elsa—shares picture of her—I did find she could have done it—her daughter

Elsa—rich woman—Changed from picture—frozen—virulent against Caro—vindictive—talks a little—sends her account. You want truth? You shall have it (says drama to vent spleen)

Miss Williams—elderly—room in London—Violently pro Caro—but admits she knows—about Angela—P persuades her truth is best—She agrees—will write—

Wee Wee woman of brains—character—successful archaeologist—welcomes P’s intervention—quite convinced —explains why Caro couldn’t have done it—because of what she did to her

All of the details of the crime were arrived at only after numerous attempts. Through much of the notes the murder method was to be a shooting rather than a poisoning, and even though this was not pursued it is interesting to see how much of the attendant detail was retained:

A. Pistol—(Amyas’s) wiped clean of prints except his—but they are wrong—also her prints in blood on table—Miss W covers for Angela?—saw her doing this—Angela in boat? But is returning)

Did someone pretend to be Wee-wee—steal up to him from behind and use her voice—press pistol against his head and fire—C thinks it is W[ee-wee] has heard voice—picks up pistol and wipes it

Caro heard Angela—speaking to Amyas pressed revolver into his back—sporty playacting—(she had peashooter)…she got there found him dead. Picked up pistol—wiped it—put it in his hand—but suicide not possible and one of her fingerprints on butt

Caroline went down to call Amyas for lunch—shot—but before she got there—Caro seen to take pistol from drawer of desk

Caro comes—Elsa springs up, snatches revolver—and shoots him—then rushes away—Caroline—sees her—thinks it is Angela—horrified—stunned at find—Elsa goes up to house—drops jersey on path—Miss Williams comes down—picks up jersey—then hears shot—she goes on—sees Caro—pressing his hand over revolver

In the novel the vital clue that convinces Poirot, in the course of his questioning, of Caroline’s innocence is her wiping of the beer bottle and the subsequent superimposition of Amyas’s fingerprints on it, as witnessed by Miss Williams. As can be seen in four of the extracts, this wiping was originally intended for a gun. And the detail of Caroline being seen taking a pistol is retained in the novel by her being seen taking the poison from Meredith’s laboratory. In three of these extracts we also see the vital factor of Caroline’s mistaken belief that the culprit is Angela, thereby paving the way for the ultimate sacrifice after her arrest.

The rejection of a gun in favour of poison is no surprise, as Christie knew little about the former but had a professional knowledge of the latter. She used poison more than any other murder method and more than any of her contemporaries, resorting to firearms infrequently. When Christie does decide on poison her fertility of invention is once again very evident in both the type of poison and its method of administration:

Nucleus—poison in port—husband had a glass in his room (analysed and full of it)—Caro seen washing out port decanter (by maid)

Poison—Sherry—One person poured it out, Caro took glass to Am—later cyanide found in glass, or belladonna

Possibilities of poison

A—Poison put into sherry at time when ‘shut your eyes etc’ is done—C has brought sherry to him—she finds him (having heard WW) later dead—wipes glass—puts dead man’s fingers on it—(seen by Miss W)

B—Sherry pure—cyanide in strawberry—Caro still does her act—murderer adds cyanide to sherry—dregs with pipette—latter is found

C—Medicine—HCN—added to sherry by Caro—capsule is already taken

D—Capsule altered to AC from PC

Coniine—in capsule?

Result—he appears drunk—staggers about—double vision—(P’s evidence)—E. sits down and watches him die—somebody comes—she gets up and speaks to him—joins other person—he shakes his head—or—seen sitting behind a table

A decanter—port?—Caroline washed it out afterwards

Box of cachets—before meals

HCN and bismuth mixture—extra HCN? Beer?

It is notable that even when she decides on coniine, the capsule idea in the above list is not used.

Other important plot points, and clues, are mentioned. The danger of a mistaken interpretation of overheard remarks is emphasised in the first two extracts; the final moving letter written by Caroline from her prison cell to her daughter, in the third extract, is another example of misinter-pretation. Angela’s penchant for practical jokes, as evidenced by the slug and, later, the valerian, is an important factor in Caroline’s supposition of her guilt. And the all-important wiping of the glass (beer bottle in the book) surfaces again:

Case against Caroline—Quarrelled with husband that morning—said ‘I’d love to kill you. Someday I will’

Don’t you worry—I’ll see to her packing (send her packing) heard between Caro and Amyas

A’s—including parting note from C in prison my darling I am quite content—going to Amyas—also important about C’s lover—Meredith?

Miss W—re Angela and slug

Miss W saw Caro wipe glass or cleaning revolver prints

After an admonition to herself, Christie eventually arrives at the plot we know:

Go over the morning again

Dinner with Meredith night before—the drugs—Valerian—coniine etc.—Caroline takes coniine—Elsa sees her—Talk between Meredith and Amyas—one more day—row between Angela and Amyas—School—next day Meredith discovers coniine has been taken—rings up Philip—(? Is Philip somewhere and Elsa with him—she hears?) Elsa is sitting With to M—says she is cold—goes up to house (gets coniine)—(Did Caroline and Amyas have row after breakfast—? Did Elsa hear them—did she say to Philip ‘conjugal quarrel’)—sits—come out—presently A comes out and says come down and sit.

Elsa tests him—Caroline comes down—Elsa is cold—goes to get jersey (gets coniine)—Caro and Amyas have row—some of it overheard by P and M (But their evidence—I’ll kill you etc.—heard by Philip and E). ‘Haven’t I told you I’ll send her packing’—Comes out—sees them and says school—Angela etc.—Elsa reappears this time has jersey—he drinks off beer—Says (after looking down to sea)—they turn round—Elsa is there—He drinks off beer—says hot and disgusting—Caro goes away says she’ll bring him some down iced—she goes to get it—finds Angela at refrigerator—doing something to beer—Caro takes bottle from her—Caro goes down with it—she pours it out and gives it to him—he drinks it off.

Miss Williams—Meredith looks at Elsa—sitting there—her eyes—once or twice she speaks—(she has put some coniine in dregs of glass—not bottle)—We’re going to be married aren’t we?—looks up and sees Meredith—acts her part. M sees A from door—queer expression—doesn’t say anything—one of his moods—M says I hear you were over at my place this morning—A says Yes—I wanted—something?

Caroline and Miss W find him—C sends Miss W for police doctor—she then smashes his beer bottle and replaces it by another. Findings—beer in glass had coniine in it—and his fingers superimposed on hers—but not as they could have been

Oddly, there is little of Poirot’s final scene, the explanation of the events of 16 years ago and the revelation of the real killer of Amyas Crale. For all practical purposes, the necessary detail for that scene is included in the above extract and Christie probably felt confident of writing the closing chapter without the need for further detailed notes. And the conclusion is somewhat ambivalent. Even though Poirot is certain he has arrived at the truth, he realises that there is no proof…

Last Scene

Ph and M are there—Angela comes in—then W—finally Lady D—M is a little dismayed. Caroline had motive—she had means—now to hand takes coniine and it seems quite certain she did take it—has questioned Meredith if person could handily take it if 5 people in room—but she was last and M in doorway had his back to room—so we take it as proved that she took it

Monkswell Manor Guest House welcomes its first visitors, including the formidable Mrs Boyle and the mysterious Mr Paravacini, as well as amusing Christopher Wren and enigmatic Miss Casewell. But Sergeant Trotter arrives to warn them of a potential killer in their midst, just before one of the guests is murdered.

As usual, Christie’s Autobiography is maddeningly vague about dates, so when she writes ‘About then the B.B.C. rang me up and asked me if I would like to do a short radio play for a programme they were putting on for some function to do with Queen Mary’, we must assume it was in 1946 as the ‘function’ was the eightieth birthday of Queen Mary on 30 May 1947. She duly presented them with Three Blind Mice, a half-hour radio play. The following 21 October it was broadcast as a 30-minute television play with the same name and script. She subsequently reworked it as a long short story, which appeared in a US magazine in 1948 and a UK one early in January 1949. It was collected, but only in the USA, in Three Blind Mice and other Stories in 1950. When the collection that ultimately appeared in the UK as The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding was in the planning stage, Christie made it clear that she did not want Three Blind Mice to be included as ‘masses of people haven’t seen it yet’ and she did not want to spoil their enjoyment.

An amusing rebus in Notebook 56 heads the top of the first of only two pages to feature the most famous play in the world—Three Blind Mice (later The Mousetrap).

In her Autobiography she continues, ‘The more I thought about Three Blind Mice, the more I felt that it might expand from a radio play lasting twenty minutes to a three act thriller.’ So she re-reworked it as a stage play, but when it came to presenting it a new title had to be found as the original was already the name of a play. Her son-in-law, the erudite Anthony Hicks, came up with The Mousetrap (from Act II, Scene ii of Hamlet) and it opened in London on 25 November 1952. The rest is history…

The main changes between the different versions are in the very beginning. The radio and television versions feature the first murder, that of Mrs Lyon in Culver Street; the theatre version includes this only in sound effects on a darkened stage. The early draft of the script included an opening scene with two workmen sitting round a brazier who ask a passer-by for a match; the passer-by transpires to be the murderer on his way back from killing Mrs Lyon in nearby Culver Street and it is here that he drops the notebook containing the address of Monkswell Manor. Replacing this scene in the novella version is one set in Scotland Yard where the workmen describe the events of that evening.

There is almost nothing showing the genesis of this most famous work as a radio play. Notebook 56 does, however, have two pages headed, amusingly, 3 (an eye crossed out) (a mouse). As the following passage indicates, these few notes refer to either the novella or the stage version:

Arrival of Christopher Wren—his muffler—his dark overcoat—his light hat (throw on bench)—weight of suitcase—nothing in it? Some significant word between him and Molly. Police in London—Sergeant Dawes—the workmen—man was indistinct. The notebook—brought to S.Y. by one of them? The identification—Monkswell Manor. H’m—get me the Berkshire police. Mrs Bolton arrives—My dear, a formidable woman—very Memsahib

A reference to Christopher Wren’s suspicious suitcase appears in the novella, as does the ‘get me the police’ phrase; the combination of these two ideas would lend support to the theory that it is the novella version to which the Notebook refers. Also notable is the odd reference to Mrs Bolton rather than Mrs Boyle, the name by which she is known in every version.

Charles Hayward falls in love with Sophia Leonides during the war and is fascinated by her family, who live together in a crooked house ruled over by her wealthy grandfather. When he is poisoned, it is obvious that a member of the family is crooked in the criminal sense.

Crooked House remains one of the great Christie shock endings. So shocking was it considered that Collins wanted her to change the ending (Sunday Times interview, 27 February 1966), but she refused. It would be reasonable, therefore, to suppose that this solution was the book’s raison d’être. At least judging from the Notebooks we have, however, this was far from the case. As we saw in Chapter 3, several characters were considered as possible murderers before Christie arrived at the perfect solution.

In her specially written foreword to the Penguin ‘Million’ edition of Crooked House Agatha Christie writes: ‘This book is one of my own special favourites. I saved it for years, thinking about it, working it out, saying to myself “One day when I have got plenty of time, and want to really enjoy myself—I’ll begin it.” I should say that of one’s output, five books are work to one that is real pleasure. Writing Crooked House was pure pleasure.’

If, indeed, she spent years thinking and working it out, none of those notes have survived. Notebook 14, which contains most of the notes for this title, also contains, very exceptionally, two instances of dates. A few pages before the Crooked House outline the dates ‘Sept. 1947’ and ‘20th Oct [1947]’ occur. The novel first appeared in an American serialisation in October 1948 and was published in the UK in May 1949. From internal evidence (a reference to Aristide’s will being drafted ‘last year’ in November 1946) and from the evidence of the Notebooks below, the book was completed late in 1947 or early in 1948. So the years spent ‘thinking about it and working it out’ are, in all probability, those spent in the mental process before pen was put to paper. The more than 20 pages of notes cover the entire course of the novel.

The first page of notes in Notebook 14 is also headed ‘Crooked House’ so it seems to have been the title from the beginning. And, indeed, it is difficult to think of a better one. But (as we saw earlier in this chapter) Notebook 56 lists, on its opening page, the germ of A Pocket Full of Rye, which includes a distinct reference to a crooked house—although it is possible that the intention was to have a crooked, i.e. dishonest, businessman and no reference to the novel of that name is intended.

Sing a song of sixpence—the crooked sixpence found (a Crooked man Crooked wife Crooked house)

Coming home—Parlourmaid—maid and son—collusion—maid killed to prevent her telling

Some pages before starting the serious plotting of this title we find two references to it:

Crooked House

Crippled soldier—with scarred face—old man is treating him for war wounds—but not war wounds—really a murderer

Plans Sept. 1947

Crooked House (The Alt[erations]). Done

It is not possible to date the first entry as this ‘crippled soldier’ scenario does not appear in any Christie title, but the next, on the following page, is headed unambiguously, showing that the bulk of the novel, if not the entire novel, was completed by this date with only the alterations to attend to. As we saw in Chapter 3, the crossing out of words is Christie’s usual indication that something has been completed; here, in the same ink, we have the word ‘Done’ added.

Two pages later the plotting begins. The family is set out in some detail, as is the Sophia/Charles set-up:

Old Aristide Kriston—Gnome but attractive—vitality—a restaurant keeper—then marries the daughter of a fox hunting squire—good looks—very fair and English.

Roger—Greek—clever—devoted to father

Clemency—woman scientist

Leo—fair handsome [possibly a forerunner of Philip]

Penelope—good humoured—motivated [possibly a forerunner of Magda]

Sophia

His second wife—Dorcas (Tabitha) [Brenda]

Laurence—the crippled tutor

[Told in] First person—Charles(?) in Foreign office—Sophia Alexander is in his department—her talk—attraction—Oh, we all live together in a little crooked house—he looks up nursery rhyme—sees her in London—or arranges so to do—murder of Grandfather. She refuses to marry him—because of murder—because I don’t know which of us did it?—anyone of us might. His father is A.C. [Assistant Commissioner]—Charles goes into it all—the old man—his marriage

There is a succinct, initial assertion on the second page of notes that ‘Harriet kills the old man’. However, consideration is subsequently given to five other characters—Brenda, the second wife; Clemency, Roger’s wife; the tutor Laurence; the formidable Edith de Haviland, Aristide’s sister-in-law; and Sophia—before eventually returning to the child-as-murderer ploy. The idea ‘Laurence—really no legs’ is not pursued, despite Christie’s fascination with this as a plot device (see ‘The House of Dreams’, page 303), and Laurence remains crippled only in the emotional sense. And although the killer was eventually named Josephine, this name does not appear until the thirteenth page of notes. She is earlier (as above) referred to as Harriet and/or Emma:

Dorcas—No [Brenda]

Clemency? Yes her motive—Fanatical—slightly mad

Or shall it be Clemency—No gain—they will be out on the world

Does Laurence do it—a cripple—Laurence—really no legs—therefore always different heights

Edith—Yes—possible

Sophia Possible Lack of moral fibre

Christie explores this idea further, although it is possible to infer—‘Yes—interesting’ in the first extract and ‘(if J)’, five pages later, in the second—that at this stage she had not definitely settled on Josephine (as she has now become) as the killer:

Emma [Josephine]—Yes—interesting—not normal—wants power—hated her grandfather for something particular—(wouldn’t let her do ballet dancing and you must start young?): Motive—adjust for her method—an abnormally high intelligence. If so is there a second murder—Yes—the old nurse (if Emma)

The weight over the door (if J) or definitely dies—little black book nursery.

Child’s ending—best evidence there is—no good in court—children don’t like being asked direct questions—to you she was showing off.

Charles and Josephine—asks about letters—I was making it up—won’t tell you—you shouldn’t have told police.

Josephine writing in her book. A.C. says—be careful of the child—there’s a poisoner about

Although there is no mention of Josephine in the early pages, when she is mentioned she is given a page to herself and her detective work. Throughout the novel we are told of her ghoulish curiosity, her eavesdropping, her knowledge of detective fiction, and, poignantly, her little black book containing, supposedly, her detective notes:

Does Harriet know that Uncle Roger has been doing this?

An odious child who always knows what’s going on

Josephine—the ghoul—she knows—I’ve been doing detective work

Finds Roger was going away—because I think because he’d embezzled money

And Edith hates Brenda—they wrote to each other—I know where they kept the letters

I didn’t like grandfather—ballet—dancing nono.

Although it is an important Christie title, due to its shocking denouement, Crooked House is not a formally clued detective story. The answer is very evident in retrospect—Josephine’s confident claim of her knowledge of the killer, her lack of fear, the dents on the wash-house floor from the experiments with the marble door-stop—but it is not possible to arrive at the solution by logical deduction. Despite this, the novel shows that even after a 30-year career Christie still retains her ability to surprise and entertain.

Rex Fortescue is poisoned in his counting house; his wife is poisoned during afternoon tea of bread and honey; and the maid is strangled while hanging out the clothes. A macabre interpretation of the nursery rhyme brings Miss Marple to Yewtree Lodge to investigate the presence of blackbirds.

The notes for this novel are contained in five Notebooks, the bulk of them in Notebook 53, with shorter references in the other four. It would seem from internal evidence that this plot was simmering for some time before Christie refined it for the novel. A Pocket Full of Rye first appeared in October as a serial in the Daily Express. The official reader’s report from Collins, dated April 1953, describes it as ‘highly readable, exciting, baffling and intelligent; it is plotted and handled with a skill that makes most current detective fiction look like the work of clumsy amateurs’. Although he considered the means of the first murder too far-fetched, overall he rated it as a ‘good’ Christie, which seems a little lukewarm after such an effusive description.

The following cryptic reference in Notebook 56 gives the genesis of the plot, the first story, ‘The Tuesday Night Club’, of The Thirteen Problems, which had appeared 25 years earlier in December 1927:

General pattern like hundreds and thousands

Here, a housemaid, at the behest of her married lover, sprinkles ‘hundreds and thousands’ (the coloured sugar confection used mainly to decorate the top of trifles and small sponge cakes) liberally doped with arsenic over a dessert in order to eliminate an inconvenient wife. As if to clinch the matter, the maid in both short story and novel is called Gladys.

As can be seen from the following note in Notebook 14, the plots of A Pocket Full of Rye and They Do It with Mirrors were intertwined in the early stages of plotting (this note would seem to date from the late 1940s as it appears with notes for Crooked House):

Mirrors

Percival and Lancelot brothers—P good boy—L bad lad—violent antagonism between them—actually they get together to put Father out of the way and his young wife? The trick—P and L fake quarrel—overheard below (actually P. does it above) L. returns and stuns him—calls for help

The faked quarrel became the main plot device of They Do It with Mirrors while the brothers Lancelot and Percival remained with A Pocket Full of Rye.

A few pages later Christie sketches a plot:

The King was in his Counting House

Pompous magnate dead in (a) Office (b) Suburban house—Blackbirds Mine

Good son Percival—bad son Lance—deadly enemies (really in cahoots?) Motive—swindle by one of the sons? Servant (N.A.A.F.I. girl) in league with Lance—she could alter all clocks. Girl takes father’s coffee to study—comes out screaming? Lance first to get to him (kills him then) others coming up. Old man drugged first—must have been at dinner (Lance not there). Girl suspected—could have doped him and stabbed him and put rye in man’s pockets. They argue—she is found dead—with clothes pin

This is much nearer to the one she eventually chose, although much of the detail was to change—e.g. there is no changing of clocks or stabbing in the finished novel and the brothers are not ‘in cahoots’. Here also is the first mention of Blackbird Mines, the supposedly worthless mines which prove to be a source of uranium, thereby providing the killer’s motivation. This aspect of the plot is very reminiscent of the swindle perpetrated on his partner by Simeon Lee, the victim in Hercule Poirot’s Christmas. The reference to a ‘N.A.A.F.I. girl’ is to the Navy, Army and Air Force Institute, founded in 1921 to run recreational establishments needed by the armed forces, and to sell goods to servicemen and their families.

But it is in Notebook 53 that we find most of the plotting for the book. Although this follows the pattern of the novel closely, we can see here that various other possibilities were considered before their eventual rejection. Both Percival and his wife, and Lance and Adele, were considered as the murderers; Lance might have been either a ‘good boy’ or a ‘bad lot’; and Christie proposed the use of strychnine or arsenic as a poison rather than taxine:

Percival married to a girl (crook) abroad. She comes down to stay with other brother Lancelot—posing as his wife—she and Percival are the ones who do the murder

Lance in it with Adele—Adele is engaged to father—gets her to kill father—then arrives just in time to poison her tea

Lance is on plane returning from East. He is good son—his wife is Ruby Mackenzie

Good son Percival—bad son Lance—deadly enemies (really in cahoots?)

Strychnine and arsenic found later in cupboard in hall on top shelf or in dining room alcove in soup tureen on top shelf

After these speculations the plot begins to emerge. The material in the following extracts, all from Notebook 53, appears in the novel:

Lance (bad boy) is returning on plane—father has sent for him. Before he can get home father dies—[Perci]Val’s wife is Ruby Mackenzie—Lance has got together with Marlene at holiday camp. Gives her powder to put in early morning tea—says it will make his father ill—he will be sent for—Marlene is in terrible state—Lance arrives home—in time to poison Adelaide—(in tea?) then adds it to honey

Chapter I

Tea during 11—the newest typist makes it Office—blond secretary—takes in the boss’s tea ‘Mr Fortescue is in conference—’ Scream—ill—blond rushes in—out—call for doctor—phone—Hospital

Tea—A[dele] eats honey off comb—son gives it to her in tea—dies. Or son poisons her by putting stuff in meal before he comes back officially—girl meets him outside

Maid in garden—clothes peg on nose. Miss M points out later you wouldn’t go out and hang up clothes at that time? But you would meet young man

After death of girl Gladys—Miss M arrives in hall—sergeant baffled—Inspector remembers her—Miss M very positive about girl Gladys—dead—must be stopped—nose and clothes peg—human dignity

A series of mysterious thefts in the student hostel run by Miss Lemon’s sister in Hickory Road culminates in the death of one of the students. The incongruity of the objects stolen attracts the attention of Hercule Poirot, who visits the hostel—just before the first death.

The notes for Hickory Dickory Dock are scattered over 50 pages of Notebook 12, with two brief and unsuccessful attempts to come to grips with it in two other Notebooks (See below and ‘Miscellaneous’ on page 129—a note which dates from six years earlier). Despite the rejection of these other ideas Christie did not give up on utilising the rhyme, although it supplies only the title and even that is tenuous. Apart from the address (which itself was changed from Gillespie Road) there is no attempt in the novel to follow the verse, one of the few references to it coming in the closing lines when Poirot quotes it.

The following in Notebook 12 shows that the book had been largely finished early in the year prior to publication:

Suggestions to enlarge and improve Hic. Dic. Doc. May 1954

Some motifs from earlier novels recur. Mrs Nicoletis has a conversation with her unnamed killer much as Amy Murgatroyd did in A Murder is Announced; and Patricia Lane’s telephone call to Poirot as the killer attacks her recalls Helen Abernethie’s in After the Funeral and Donald Ross’s in Lord Edgware Dies. And there is another unlikely, and unnecessary, relationship revealed towards the end of the novel. It is along the lines of similar disclosures in Four-Fifty from Paddington and The Mirror Crack’d from Side to Side. Both Morgan and Osborne refer to the fact that there were plans, in the early 1960s, to turn this title into a musical. Unlikely as this may seem, some of the music was written and a title—‘Death Beat’—had been decided upon, but the project eventually came to nothing.

The incongruity of the stolen objects presents Poirot, and the reader, with an intriguing puzzle and the explanations are satisfying. But there are arguably too many characters and some of the foreign students are little more than stereotypes.

Each of the first five pages of notes for this book is headed ‘Holiday Task’, suggesting that it was written at a time when Christie should have been relaxing. And the plotting of it did not come easily, as endless permutations and much repetition is included. It does not read as if she had a very clear idea of the plot when she started. The first page of the notes has the glimmering of a plot, much of which remained, although there were to be many changes before she was happy with it. By the end of the first page she had reached a possible starting point with echoes—‘one thing needed others camouflage’—of The A.B.C. Murders:

Things have disappeared—a rather stupid girl ‘Cilly’ (for Celia or Cecelia)—very enamoured of dour student—going in for psychiatry—he doesn’t notice her. Valerie, a clever girl puts her up to stealing ‘He’ll notice you through silly things or rather—one really good thing’

Stealing—things keep disappearing—really just one thing needed others camouflage

Some early ideas were, thankfully, not pursued…

Hickory Dickory Dock

Complex about the word Dock—a terror story—danger—girl in job—finds out something

H.P. in train—girl gets him to go stealing

Holiday Task (Cont.) 23 Gillespie Road

Does Miss Lemon decide to go as Matron? Bored by retirement—asks Poirot’s advice

…and some later ones that sounded promising were also abandoned.

Hickory Dickory Dock

First death at one o’clock—Second at 2 o’clock

Important—2 murders

[First] happens quite soon after P’s lecture

Mrs. Nicoletis? Why? Blackmails? One of the gang and slipping?

Johnston?—Her trained mind has made certain deduction—etc.—possibly finds after with matter—a warning hold you tongue—

Aka bombo?

Nigel?

Patricia

Although she toyed with the idea of other characters as the eventual villain, Valerie was always a front-runner, either alone or with various combinations of other students:

1. Valerie—Master mind of racket—uses students—puts C up to it—Nigel in it with her? Or blackmails her or later N. one of victims

2. Nigel—finds out about racket—or in it with Valerie—childish excitable

Basic to the plot is a bet about obtaining poison and it must be admitted that some of the tactics suggested are horribly plausible, at least in the mid-1950s. The ‘doctor’s car’ idea was one that surfaced a few times throughout the Notebooks and the white coat used in the novel as camouflage to access a hospital drug cupboard is one obviously inspired by Christie’s personal experiences in University College Hospital during the Second World War:

The 4 methods—a bet is made—Argument

Nigel

Valerie

Len

Angus

They bring back

D[angerous] D[rugs] from car—Tube of morphine

Hosp. Patient—Phenobarbitol

Poison cupboard—Strych. Or Digi?

Bicarbonate bottle taken to put powder in—and

bicarbonate substituted?

Then drugs destroyed but not one of them—the hospital one?

By page 50 of Notebook 12 she has the plot under control and the following extract contains most of the elements of the eventual plot:

Main arguments

V. an organiser of smuggling into this country (jewels?) (drugs?) by means of students. Mrs. N is in it—buys houses for students—also a shop on corner nearby—where rucksacks are sold—which have false bottoms (stones imbedded in glue (or powdered heroin in rouleau [roll] of canvas).

Police are on V’s track—she passes something to Nigel—Bath salts—he examines this—finds heroin—replaces it with bicarbonate—and puts stuff in his bicarbonate bottle. Police come to house—V. destroys rucksack cuts it up—afterwards works on Celia.

And a few pages later she toys with some refinements (the saccharine and rucksack ideas and the involvement of Elizabeth Johnson were subsequently rejected):

Points to be resolved

Morphine (Acetate?) replaced by boracic acid—latter shows green flame when burned (Recognised by Celia?) [therefore] C. knows boracic was taken to replace morphia.

Pat found morphia—took B. [oracic] A[cid] from bathroom.

Saccharine? Did C. use this in coffee? Morphia tablets exchanged for sacchar

Val. runs smuggling racket (Killed C?)

E[lizabeth] J[ohnson] in with Val on smuggling

Akibombo—saw—what? to do with boracic?—to do with rucksack?

Smuggling Gems? Dope? Mrs. Nic V’s mother? Just figurehead?

And, of course, Nigel’s back-story—he was responsible for the death of his mother and his father has left a letter to this effect to be opened after his death—plays a vital part in the plot. It is not until approaching the end of the notes, however, that it is sketched in:

Argument

N. bad lot—needs money—tries to get it from his mother—forges her name—or gives her sleeping draught—she dies—he inherits—inquest—overdose—accident. But father turns him out—he cashes in on his mother’s money. (Goes through it?) Pals up with Valerie—in smuggling racquet—has by then taken another name—archaeological diplomat—friends with students etc. Police come—he thinks for him—father dead?—letter left with lawyer—takes out bulbs—(or are bulbs—new ones—stolen—and one taken out in hall)

Nigel gives mother poison (Money)—Father a chemist—tests it or finds it—turns Nigel out—signs a deposition—at bank in case of his death—or if Nigel does anything dishonourable—N. is to change his name

One of the ideas that appears after the ‘Suggestions to enlarge and improve’ the novel noted above is Patricia’s murder:

Nigel goes to police station…Pat (?) rings up—speaks to Nigel—breathless scared voice—Nigel—I think I know—who must have taken the morphia because I remember it was there that night…I don’t want to say…Right…Nigel and Police go—Pat dead. Nigel cries like a small boy

Coming so late in the novel, however, this feels somewhat tagged on and it is an idea that enlarges rather than improves. In fact, a sketch of it had already appeared ten pages earlier:

End sequence

After Nigel and Pat scene Nigel goes round to Police Station. Pat (ostensibly)—really Valerie—rings up—knows who took it. They go there—Pat dead—Nigel’s grief—real—H.P. arrives.

This murder is similar to the late murders in Four-Fifty from Paddington and Ordeal by Innocence, in the following years. Mrs Oliver, in Chapter 8 of Cards on the Table, says: ‘What really matters is plenty of bodies! If the thing’s getting a little dull, some more blood cheers it up. Somebody is going to tell something—and then they’re killed first. That always goes down well. It comes in all my books…’ And in Chapter 17 of the same novel: ‘when I count up I find I’ve only written thirty thousand words instead of sixty thousand, and so then I have to throw in another murder…’ It is difficult not to think of these remarks, tongue-in-cheek though they may be, when reading Hickory Dickory Dock.

Exhibit C: Agatha Christie in the Notebooks

Christie several times references herself and her work in the Notebooks. For some reason she twice—in Notebooks 72 and 39—lists some of her books, although the lists are not exhaustive nor is it obvious what the titles have in common; and she often refers to earlier titles as a quick reminder.

Analysis of books so far

Hotels—Body in Library, Evil under the Sun

Trains Aeroplanes—Blue Train, Orient Express, Death in Clouds, Nile

Private Life (country) Towards Zero, Hollow, Xmas, 3 Act Tragedy, Sad Cypress (village) Vicarage, Moving Finger

Travel—Appointment with Death

The above list appears just after notes for Mrs McGinty’s Dead. The fact that Taken at the Flood does not appear in the list may mean that it was compiled in late 1946, after The Hollow, or early 1947, before Taken at the Flood was completed. From the headings it would seem that she was considering backgrounds she had previously used.

Ackroyd

Murder on Nile

Death in Clouds

Murder in Mesopotamia

Orient Express

Appointment with Death

Tragedy in 3 Acts

Dead Man’s Mirror

And the above, squeezed into the corner of a page during the plotting of Evil under the Sun, is even more enigmatic. Apart from the fact that they are all Poirot stories, it is difficult to see what they have in common.

The next musing appears in the notes for Towards Zero. Wisely, she decided against it as another mysterious death at the hotel in the space of three years could look, in Oscar Wilde’s famous phrase, like carelessness:

Shall hotel be the same as Evil Under the Sun—N[eville] has to go across in trolley because high water

The following odd, and inaccurate, reference to an earlier killer appears in the notes for Elephants Can Remember. It is odd because Poirot was not involved in that case and never knew Josephine:

Calls on Poirot—asks about Josephine (Crooked House)

This was among the last notes to appear, written as it was just before the publication of Postern of Fate:

Nov. 2nd 1973 Book of Stories

The White Horse Stories

First one—The White Horse Party (rather similar to Jane Marple’s Tuesday Night Club)

Chapter 25 of Four-Fifty from Paddington includes a brief, cryptic reference to A Murder is Announced, but without mentioning the title…

Somebody greedy—bit about Letty Blacklock

…while this reference appears during the plotting of Third Girl:

Poirot worried—old friend (as in McGinty) comes to tea

Finally, the idea of reintroducing Sergeant Fletcher from A Murder is Announced was briefly considered during the plotting of A Pocket Full of Rye:

Chapter II—Crossways—Inspector Harwell—or Murder is Announced young man