This was my 30th book finished in 2025.

I like the trope that Poirot just wants a much needed holiday, but he can never get it. This story was okay, but not exactly what I was expecting.

It also felt very woman-hatey throughout, which was a bit uncomfortable. Like damn, everyone hates her, even Poirot, just because she's had many husbands.

Well, I managed to guess the killer in the end.