Monsieur Renaud had been tragically correct in fearing for his life, Hercule Poirot mused sadly. The body of the famed millionaire had been found on his own golf course yesterday, quite dead; he, who might have been able to prevent such an occurrence, had answered Renaud's urgent request just one day too late.
Well, since regretfully he could no longer protect the poor man, the least he could do now was find poor Renaud's murderer.
Or murderess, he sighed, as he thought about the beautiful Madame Renaud with the so-secretive eyes -- and about the seductive neighbor, Madame Daubreuil, whose 'friendship' with the dead man so-definitely required investigation.
This vintage paperback book is in good condition with spine rubbing and creases, a reader's crease, and cover and corner wear.