“Hastings, a crime is a pot that boils and seethes and every now and then a significant fact comes to the surface and can be seen. There is something in the depths there—yes, there is something! I swear it by my faith in Hercule Poirot, I swear it!” --Poirot
Poirot Loses a Client is the original title of this mystery, and he does, but Christie decided later to call it Dumb Witness (Hercule Poirot #16, rolling right along here!) in honor of a dog named Peter, her beloved dog, and another, fictional, dog named Bob, who—with his ball—features in this mystery, but you already know that since the cover for this particular edition features a dog and a ball (and because she dedicates the book to her dog) (!) that the dog named Bob had nothing whatsoever to do with the murder. But that’s the “dumb witness” (as in dumb, not deaf) of which she speaks. Is it nice to call the dogs you love dumb, Agatha?!
The murdered woman in this story is (rich) Emily Arundell, in her seventies, and a bevy of greedy heirs swarm around the pot of money she is leaving, so the motive is . . . money, which is not so interesting or original. If I had only read this one mystery from her I probably might have rated this 4 stars, but compared to the best of them, this is pretty unremarkable, kind of same ol’, same ol’. That "losing the client" bit has to do with the fact that AFTER the murder is discovered, Poirot gets a letter from Emily, who has been dead for a month, asking him to represent her. Okay, but again, not that interesting.
Let’s see: Dumb Witness features a typically vivacious (for Christie, one in every story) young woman (Theresa), two smart and stuffy doctors (typically dull and capable, as most men are in her mysteries). It features Hastings as narrator, though the patter between he and Poirot is getting honed a bit, it’s developed into a kind of pleasantly rude rhythm between the buffoonish Hastings and the somewhat—but amusingly--arrogant Poirot. Poirot lies in this one, he plays a deceptive role, and this raises issues about what he is willing to do to get at the truth. Poirot makes an interesting point, too, that a murder reveals a certain psychological “character” which, when you get to know the suspects, will make it clear whodunit. Oh, and there's Bob the dog and his ball, that everyone but we readers think is involved in the murder of Emily.
There’s one particularly interesting and surprising thing in this book that I might not have even noticed reading it in 1936 White England or America. The title of one chapter is: “The N---- in the Woodpile,” which is a of a racist phrase meant to relate to something not yet revealed. This was a not uncommon (of course exclusively white) expression as I understand it in the twenties and thirties, but I was still startled to see it here. I mean there are racists in Christie’s novels, partly reflective of the times, partly of their class, I suppose. But this title is still glaring and disturbing. This is her chapter title. I can’t just pass it off as a “merely” nasty (racist) flaw in Hastings as narrator. Or can I? Hastings is an elitist dope. But nah, I think this is Christie just being racist in the way of the times. So what does this “crime” in that chapter title reveal about her psychology? As with Poirot and Hastings, there are traces of elitism in Dame Christie. And some darkness. You see it in her treatment of servants as stupid or ignorant, too. Both Christie and Poirot like rich people, nobility, the finer things. And can be jerks.
She changed the title in some later editions (not the one I am reading, though, obviously) to “A Cuckoo in the Nest,” I just discovered while googling/Wikipedia-ing the phrase above. So maybe that takes a little of the sting out of it? She realized the error of her ways? But it was there and is still in this edition I am reading. . .
The major crime of this one is that it is 400 pages long, way too long for this story, which I read as fast I could. I liked it, but didn’t love it.