It's Christmas in May since I'm contemplating reading out of season (will I actually do it? I don't know.) and pulled Hercule Poirot's Christmas off the stack. Honestly, I did put this on the short stack back in November, so it's just been sitting there staring at me probably because this isn't the next in the series for me as well. The odds are leaning against it, but you never know.
From the cover: Simeon Lee, the master of Gorston Hall, has seen to it that creatures will indeed be stirring at his isolated estate this season. The aging millionaire has invited his relatives for a holiday getaway of fun and games - and the greedy pack of sycophants are going to get exactly what they deserve. It begins with a few minor alterations in his will. It ends with a wailing scream and a deathly gurgle. His own. The question isn't who had reason to slash Simeon's throat, but rather how could the grisly crime have occurred in his bedroom, locked from the inside? Now another guest has arrived at Gorston Hall. And this one has a gift for detection...
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