#long character analysis

Some conclusions I've reached based on these stats:

Horowitz adapted a lot of episodes for the show—he was the adaptor of the second most episodes for the series, after Clive Exton—but his tenure with the show was... kind of short-lived.

Although there are some episodes adapted by Horowitz that I personally sort of like (Yellow Iris, Jewel Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan, Hickory Dickory Dock), and this means that Horowitz may write some okay stuff sometimes, it's quite possible that these particular stories are the ones that don't deviate too much from Christie's original storylines (I'll still have to read these stories before I can say this for sure though)

However, we KNOW that Anthony Horowitz LOVES to change things & add all sorts of shit to the episodes that wasn't in the original stories, so, that being his modus opporandi means... it's also possible that the stories of his I like are nothing like the original stories, and I might start disliking them a bit if I read them...which is. a scary thought.

I have... mixed feelings about his version of Lord Edgeware Dies now that I've read the original, but. Horowitz clearly added a lot of shit to the plot of this one, too, so... I'm not actually too hopeful about liking his takes on the ones I haven't read yet.

I Can't Believe That Anthony Horowitz adapted my two least favourite episodes in the entire series actually, this explains SO much, The Double Clue and Murder on the Links. Which. Incidentally. Are the two episodes that establish the show!canon for the main romance-driven plots involving Poirot and Hastings (respectively).

Horowitz is also responsible for adding all the extra romance bullshit for Poirot into the plot of Lord Edgeware Dies, which tells me that Anthony Horowitz absolutely CANNOT be trusted with romance plots. We can see how BADLY he fumbles them each time! (Which... I recognise that the producers, the directors, and the actors also have some sway in how the episodes turn out, but... I'm just gonna go out on a limb here and speculate that the crappy way the romance turned out in Horowitz's scripts might just be due to some Bad Ol' Fashioned Misogyny and how Horowitz seemed to Trip All Over Himself in these three scripts trying to No-Homo Everything... just sayin'...)

Implications for Poirot's & Hastings' romantic lives

NOW. Since Horowitz is the one who had considerable creative control over ALL of the major ""romance"" plots involving Poirot and Hastings (respectively) in the show, this means that Horowitz was almost single-handedly responsible for establishing the show's canon regarding all of the (hetero!) romances involving Poirot & Hastings.

And again: yes, the producers might have wanted to see specific scenes, too, so they must have given some input into Horowitz's scripts. There was probably an editing process. And the directors and the actors themselves absolutely had a hand in helping to establish this canon, with their shot design, direction, and the characters' actions. But! keep in mind that Horowitz is STILL the one who ultimately wrote the scripts! Most of the additional scenes and most of the lines said by the characters were thus presumably contributed by him! So, if this show is even half as gay as it appears, Anthony Horowitz played a HUGE ROLE in making it that way, intentionally or not!

Now, returning to the fact that the romance plots came specifically from screenplays that Horowitz adapted—The Double Clue, Murder on the Links, and Lord Edgeware Dies—We can see that these three episodes carry within them a sort of continuity of storyline that doesn't seem to be followed by most the other screenwriters who adapted for this show (except... for Clive Exton... Hmm.... More on that in a moment).

One thing I do like about the continuity of these three episodes is that they can ALL be interpreted as SUPER GAY (which is obviously what I, as something of a gay man myself, am interpreting them as). What I don't really like is... having analysed these three episodes very intensely, I don't think that the gay interpretation is what Horowitz intended to portray. I do think that his intentions terribly backfired on him: in fact, I think that he was trying SO HARD to No-Homo everything... that the plots of these three episodes wrapped all the way back round to being SUPER GAY.

HOKAI. SO. Starting with Horowitz's adaptation of the Double Clue—which, at least on their first viewing, most people I've talked to tend to interpret as a romance between Poirot and the Countess Rossakova (And YES her surname is supposed to end in -a, guys. Уж я-то знаю о чём я говорю)—Poirot is positioned as a man who does not allow people to get close to him and would rather push them away than entertain the possibility of a relationship. While this is technically true to the character that Agatha Christie wrote, this implication was not in the original short story The Double Clue (possibly because there was no room for such an implication in a short story), meaning Horowitz added it in.

Lads. Let's have a look at all the other things that got added in: Horowitz added in the admittedly, pretty gay scene about Hastings and Poirot seeing a bride, prompting Hastings to ask Poirot if he'd ever considered marriage.

Horowitz added in the scene where Hastings gets shot at.

Horowitz added the scene where Hastings is getting his wounds tended to by Miss Lemon while Poirot stands by with his hand on Hastings' shoulder. Horowitz wrote Hastings' little pouty line about 'where are you [Poirot] taking her [the countess]?'

LIKE. HOLY SHITBALLS, YOU GUYS. HOROWITZ IS RESPONSIBLE. FOR ADDING IN THE MAIN SCENES THAT MADE THIS EPISODE SO GAY. And the awful part is, this probably happened because he was trying really hard to force the story to be hetero, but he just couldn't resist adding in Hastings asking Poirot about marriage AND a literal HONEST TO GOD Hastings Whump Scene^TM, complete with him being touched and doted upon by both Miss Lemon AND Poirot.

(Okay, Mr. "I'm not gay myself, but"... I'm sure that NONE of your personal experiences with that First Boss of yours contributed in Any Way Whatsoever to the way you wrote Hastings and Poirot's dynamic, or the things you write in your self-insert books /MAJOR sarcasm)

Next, let's consider Murder on the Links. I go into detail about Horowitz's additions to the plot of this story here, and I've already talked extensively about my interpretation of this episode in previous posts, but to sum things up: This episode. Is BAD. It's disrespectful to the characters and it ignores what Agatha Christie wrote in favour of... what could possibly be some unknown point he was trying to make.

The way Horowitz writes this episode, Hastings is positioned as a man who is more concerned with aesthetics than he is with honesty when it comes to his romantic partners (which... doesn't seem to fit the Hastings Agatha Christie actually wrote, nor does it seem in keeping with the sharp, honest-to-a-fault Hastings that Clive Exton wrote in the Cornish Mystery). Horowitz further positions Hastings as someone who needs another man's interference to actually get married—implying that Hastings is so stupid & useless that he needs somebody to do everything for him. OUCH.

In Horowitz's godawful adaptation of Murder on the Links, Hastings falls for Isabelle—a woman whose only onscreen actions position her as being a Manipulative Liar (who is NOTHING like the love interest character Agatha Christie originally wrote for Hastings)—and ends up super sad at the end of the episode because he's apparently hung up on this horrible woman. Who basically THREW HIM IN THE GARBAGE. But who cares, right? At least she's ""hot""! That's all that matters, right? "Oh but you're so hot! Oh please throw me in the garbage again, ma'am!" Is that what you wanted, Mr. Horowitz? Is this your idea of romance??? I cannot believe this script actually made it through production.

And THEN at the end of the episode, Horowitz adds a scene where Poirot practically forces this lying, manipulative woman to go marry Hastings, presumably so that Hastings will stop being So Sad^TM

(but it also looks for all the world like Poirot thought doing this would solve both Hastings' loneliness problem AND his OWN problem of having feelings for Hastings at the same time...

And then he immediately looks like he REGRETS IT).

Like. Lads. DAMN. Essentially, from where I'm standing at least, the way Horowitz writes this episode, Poirot is made to LOOK, for all the world, like a repressed gay man who's basically throwing a woman at his crush, regardless of what her actions say about the kind of person she is, for the sole purpose of marrying Hastings off and thus ceremonially placing Hastings out of his own reach.

LET ME SAY THAT IN A SLIGHTLY DIFFERENT WAY: Horowitz basically sets up the story of Murder on the Links so that, in Poirot's haste to try to simultaneously solve his own problem of having a crush on Hastings/make Hastings happy in the moment, Poirot is literally guaranteeing that Hastings is going to later be hurt even more than he already has been by the woman he marries...and that Poirot himself will later be hurt, too, when hastings starts going on about what a Great Person she is. Like. Oooough. DAMN. OUCH.

But. I guess you could argue. That this episode does set the scene for some nice albeit wildly off-book doomed yaoi narratives later in the show I guess??

Now. As the ICING ON THE KINDA TONE-DEAF LAYERED CAKE that Mr. Horowitz has been baking for us with the previous two ""romance"" plots here, let's consider what happens in Anthony Horowitz's version of Lord Edgeware Dies. What is Horowitz responsible for adding to the plot of THIS one? WELL! The answer is: A WHOLE DAMN LOT.

Again! we have to keep in mind that, in his book, Poirot & Me (which I haven't read all the way through, mind you, I just stumbled on this Google Books sample when I was researching for my spreadsheet) David Suchet himself attributes the added scenes in Lord Edgeware Dies to Anthony Horowitz, saying that he was building off of a previous theme established by Clive Exton in The Murder of Roger Ackroyd:

So! Looking JUST at additions to the spoken lines in the script for Lord Edgeware Dies which are presumably attributable to the screenwriter, especially if the main star of the show is also attributing these things to him, we can deduce that:

Horowitz added the subplot about Hastings making a terrible financial decision and then LEAVING ISABELLE BEHIND IN ARGENTINA (You know, Isabelle? the Lying, Manipulative Cocktail Bar Singer Lady from Murder on the Links that Horowitz makes Poirot sorta force Hastings to marry? YEAH. HER) to SELL THEIR RANCH while Hastings himself looks for a place for them to live in London even though he's like. BROKE broke. So much for the Happily Ever After Hastings seems to get in the books!

Horowitz then writes Hastings as Swearing Up & Down that Isabelle is such a Wonderful, Understanding Wife even though NONE of her actions in Murder on the Links would lead us to believe this, and that he's TOTALLY A NEW MAN thanks to her.

Which he does Right in Front of Poirot's Salad.

Except Horowitz himself has previously established! That Poirot is the one who basically forced Hastings and his wife together! So the way this shakes out? Horowitz basically made it so that Poirot brought all of the pain and discomfort he's feeling in this moment onto himself. OUch. That's actually terribly RUDE to Poirot's character!!

Horowitz went FURTHER and added the honestly ridiculous subplot about Poirot seeming to be sort of interested in Jane Wilkinson, whilst vehemently denying it. And Poirot actually does a pretty good job of convincing me that he isn't interested in her and that he's ACTUALLY interested in HASTINGS... which some of the other scenes added in by Horowitz actually reinforce.

Like the little bit where. Poirot. LITERALLY DECLINES. LITTLE MISS HOT LADY JANE WILKINSON'S INVITATION OUT TO DINNER. IN FAVOUR OF INVITING HASTINGS OVER TO HIS OWN HOUSE FOR DINNER. AND TELLING HIM NOT TO BE LATE.

OR THE PART. WHERE. AT SAID DINNER. MISS LEMON ASKS POIROT IF HE'S EVER CONSIDERED MARRIAGE (Hey! Does that sound familiar? YEAH!! BECAUSE THIS IS THE SAME THING!! THAT HOROWITZ MADE HASTINGS ASK POIROT!! WHEN THEY SAW THAT BRIDE BACK IN DOUBLE CLUE!! THIS MIGHT JUST BE A BIG HINT! THAT THE SAME WRITER!! WROTE BOTH OF THESE SCENES!!)

AND THEN POIROT RESPONDS. THAT HE'S BEEN TEMPTED IN THE PAST. THEN SAYS, BUT NOW ALAS *LOOKS DIRECTLY AT HASTINGS* I FEAR THAT IT IS TOO LATE. AND WHY IS IT TOO LATE, POIROT??? IS IT BECAUSE HOROWITZ MADE YOU LITERALLY THROW A WOMAN AT HASTINGS SO THAT YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO FACE YOUR FEELINGS FOR HIM???????

BUT THAT is CERTAINLY NOT ALL!

Horowitz also presumably added Hastings' little lines about if you just ignore your suspicions and convictions.. you know, like I did in Murder on the Links.. and go out with the hot lady who was giving you the time of day earlier, you might just be able to Get Married and Be Happy^TM like me, Poirot!

And he also presumably added the scene where Hastings thinks he has it all figured out and basically tells Poirot that he Knows (read: incorrectly assumes) that Poirot is Hung Up on Jane Wilkinson and gives him a speech about how There Comes A Point In your Life When You think Romance Has Passed You By But When It Does Finally Hit You, It Can Really Bowl You Over... (which is RICH coming from the Mr. Arthur "My Boss Best Friend Chose My Wife For Me" Hastings that Horowitz so """"KINDLY""""" gifted to us)

And Hastings says all this... because... Poirot is... sitting there quietly and thinking... ???? (i.e., exhibiting... behaviour that is VERY NORMAL FOR HIM? To which Horowitz makes MISS LEMON say, "I've never seen him like this" BullSHIT, yes you HAVE!! Since when do you NOT know that Hercule Poirot is ALMOST ALWAYS sitting in silence and employing his little grey cells?? An EXTREMELY Careless Scripting Addition that Ignores Poirot's Disposition, which.... considering some of the things that happen in Murder on the Links... seems to be very much in the Horowitz style!!)

I do have to say. That Horowitz did add something which I actually find to be very sweet: When Poirot gifts Hastings some reward money (which I definitely don't remember being in the book) so that Hastings can start rebuilding his life after making that Terrible Financial Decision (Y'know. The one that Horowitz himself presumably added. Hmm. This is cute, but it feels suspiciously like putting a bandaid on an awful plot point... another thing that feels very in keeping with the Horowitz Style^TM).

Now. I do love how character-driven (misguided as it was) the plot of this episode was. But... Given all of the EXTRA crap like this that got added to Lord Edgeware Dies, the murder investigation almost seemed to be the subplot of this episode rather than the main event?? Which is? If I understand correctly? Usually what's supposed to happen with murder mystery shows? CORRECT ME IF I'M WRONG tho LMAO

Something I find to be... interesting... is that, Lord Edgeware Dies is not the final episode that Horowitz adapted for the series (he went on to adapt Evil Under The Sun. Which is ALSO interesting, but I won't talk about that here. This post is already entirely too long), but this episode directly drew from lines of continuity that he established in Double Clue and Murder on the Links, and it almost feels like this episode, along with some of the things he added to Evil Under the Sun, were supposed to be the culmination of the story he was trying to tell us about these men's romantic lives...

...and from where I'm standing? The story Horowitz ended up telling us is that Hastings is Useless and Stupid and has to have everything done for him, and Poirot loves him in spite of all this, but that Poirot is the kind of man who pushes people away if they get too close, will deny his true feelings (even though... the truth is what motivates him the most??), so he throws a woman at his crush to try to Make It All Better^TM and ends up regretting it for the rest of his life.

Which. technically. And likely unintentionally. DOES make for a pretty good Doomed Yaoi plot. You're right! I do gotta hand that to him. FINE. I guess he can keep his unintentionally cute little reward-money-bandaid-scene that looks suspiciously like the bandaid scene in Murder on the Links where Hastings is Sad^TM so he gives Hastings *checks notes* AN ENTIRE WOMAN.

But I ask you: did Horowitz have to be so disrespectful to the characters to tell this story? Clive Exton, for example, was doing an excellent job telling a more respectful story of Hastings' and Poirot's devotion to one another!

A GROUP EFFORT

Now, I realise I am attributing a lot of this additional stuff to Horowitz, which may not be entirely fair, since the producers, the directors, and the actors do have somewhat of a say in what happens in the show; for example, we can't forget that Hugh Fraser and David Suchet's brilliant on-screen chemistry and acting choices actively helped this show be as gay as it was!

However ☝️ I will point out that, when it comes to the continuity of the ""romance"" storylines in The Double Clue, Murder on the Links, and Lord Edgeware Dies, the actors wouldn't have had the lines they were supposed to say without the screenwriter, Anthony Horowitz.

And, in my defence, in David Suchet's book, Poirot & Me, David Suchet himself also seems to attribute a lot of the plot additions and/or changes in Horowitz's screenplays to Horowitz specifically.

But what about the producers and the directors, you might say? The producers pay for what they want to see and the directors build on that vision and add their own spins on it, right?

Technically true! So, let's have a look at some of the other players here:

The Double Clue, Murder on the Links, and Lord Edgeware Dies:

Each have different directors (Andrew Piddington, Andrew Grieve, and Brian Farnham, respectively), so—although these directors could have shared a similar vision—this particular line of continuity regarding the main characters' romances in the show can't be explained by a single director's vision.

HOWEVER. These episodes were all produced by Brian Eastman (with the help of a few other executive and associate producers, but Brian Eastman is the only producer that had his hand in all three of these episodes), so he could definitely have had a hand in how gay the episodes ended up being! (Especially since he produced 49 of the 70 episodes, and brought us gems like Murder in the Mews, The Third Floor Flat, The Incredible Theft, The Veiled Lady, The Lost Mine, The Mysterious Affair at Styles, Affair at the Victory Ball, The Adventure of the Egyptian Tomb, Dumb Witness, and Murder in Mesopotamia, six of which are also Clive Exton episodes, interestingly enough!! 👀)

So. All of this to say that, this may well have been a group effort. BUT. at least concerning the line of continuity regarding the main characters' romances established in The Double Clue, Murder on the Links, and Lord Edgeware Dies, Screenwriter Anthony Horowitz and producer Brian Eastman seem to be the lowest common denominators here. If Horowitz wrote it? Eastman paid him to put it there. And I'll point out: The directors and the actors obviously rolled with it, or I wouldn't have had any textual evidence whatsoever to inspire me to write this post!

What about Murder in Mesopotamia?

Now! An extra note about Murder in Mesopotamia, since I went the extra mile and found out who adapted this one, and since, interestingly, this is the only episode I have seen that's not written by Horowitz, but still directly follows lines of continuity in the """romance""" plots that were established by both The Double Clue and Murder on the Links.

Specifically, Murder in Mesopotamia directly refers to the ""romance"" line of continuity established in Double Clue, because the Countess (even though she does not appear in the episode) is referenced multiple times and is shown as repeatedly letting Poirot down and STICKING HIM WITH THE BILL later, which is much closer to being the Countess character that Agatha Christie actually wrote, and seems to run directly counter to the Countess character that Horowitz established in The Double Clue, who was apparently so enamoured with Poirot that she basically almost gives herself up multiple times. Oh! 👀 Are... we perhaps... witnessing some narrative infighting amongst the screenwriters?

Murder in Mesopotamia also directly, but very subtly, refers to the ""romance"" line of continuity established in Murder on the Links, because it contains a little tiny blink-and-you'd-miss-it, almost throwaway line uttered by Poirot about Hastings' wife (who also does not appear in the episode) about sending him out of the continent because she 'needed a break'.

Not just the city. Not just the country. OUT OF THE CONTINENT.

It seemed to be a throwaway line that took less than a second to say. I doubt many people even caught it. But. I. am insane about this show. So I definitely paid attention to that tiny little line. In fact, the first time I heard it, it echoed VERY LOUDLY in my ears and I was lucky enough to be able to go replay it a few dozen times so I could see if I actually heard what I thought I heard. And it turns out I did hear it right.

LADS. I don't know what the screenwriter's intention behind this line was. (If I can figure out a way to reach Mr. Exton for comment, I'll ask him, but... he was born in 1939, so...my window to ask may be closing fast.) We may not ever know.

But (and this is entirely my interpretation of this line) it almost sounds to me like this subtle little line was a bit of a shot across Horowitz's bow; a line that said "Uh-huh, you THOUGHT you were telling a romantic story, but you were wrong. You don't understand the characters like I do. That woman you made Hastings marry is literally the kind of person who would tell him she "needed a break" and would SEND HIS ASS AWAY SO THAT HE WASN'T EVEN ON THE SAME CONTINENT AS SHE WAS And To Do What exactly? This is just my impression based on the storylines that Horowitz established, but maybe Isabelle found somebody else she likes better than Hastings, just like she did to Jack in Murder on the Links, and now that she's Married to Hastings and therefore kind of Stuck With Him she has to... what? Send him out of the continent because she doesn't want him to catch her fucking CHEATING ON HIM, but she knows, based on what Horowitz established, that he'll basically take her lies and half-truths at face value and not suspect a thing??????? Idk! Again, this is just the impression I get of the situation! and... it's a pretty damn strong one!! Especially since!!! A main theme in the episode!!! Is The Murderer. Kinda. Yannow. Psychologically Torturing a Woman That He Considers as having Cheated on Him!!! JUST SAYIN'.

Murder in Mesopotamia also happens to be one of the most respectful and Yearning-est of episodes that Poirot and Hastings are in together.

There's Poirot playfully teasing and subtly flirting with Hastings.

There's Longing Gazes.

There's hand touching and gentle smiles.

There's Hastings showing his devotion to Poirot, and lingering in Poirot's presence, for little reason other than just to be with him.

OUghh LADS. THIS is MUCH truer to the Poirot and Hastings that Agatha Christie actually wrote. And this episode was such a salve to my soul after the shitstorm that comprised the lines of continuity in The Double Clue, Murder on the Links, and Lord Edgeware Dies.

Interestingly, Murder in Mesopotamia was the final episode that Clive Exton wrote for the series. That was truly the end of an era for such a wonderful screen writer, and I am truly grateful for his humble contributions to writing believable episodes that were true to Agatha Christie's characters and absolutely helped make the show as gay as it was 🫡

The interactions between Hastings and Poirot in this episode are some of the most heart-rending, sad-to-be-doomed-by-the-narrative scenes during Producer Brian Eastman's and Clive Exton's tenures with the show, both of which incidentally ended with the release of Murder in Mesopotamia in July of 2001. You know who else's tenure with the show ended earlier, in April of 2001? Anthony. Bleepin'. Horowitz's.

Lads. What I'm trying to imply here? Is that it looks to me like Brian Eastman specifically (with Clive Exton's help) seemed to intentionally (but in a subtle subtextual sort of way) want to make the show as gay as it was, and even despite all of Anthony Horowitz's No-Homo-ing and bending over backwards into Oh-Yeah-Anthony-That's-TOTALLY-super-Hetero-behaviour-we-Promise-Good-Job territory, they succeeded... but ultimately... that era came to an end with the release of Murder in Mesopotamia. Well. At least it sure went out with a bang.

And now I understand why I'm struggling to get as into the later episodes as I am into the earlier ones. Because, at least in my case, what I found so compelling about the earlier episodes in the show were the other characters' dynamics with Poirot, and without them there, Poirot becomes a terribly lonely old man, and that kinda crushes me in ways I struggle to describe. And it seems that the Driving Force of the Gay behind my main ship for this show seems to have ended with the Brian Easton & Clive Exton et al. Era in 2001. I truly mourn the loss of their creative vision for this show.

In Conclusion...

Now... as a final note. Writing out this discussion. Has brought me to the startling realisation. That ALL of the fics I have written for this fandom (including the three I started in 2024 and have never posted publicly). INCLUDING MY McFUCKENING WEBCOMIC.

Are tied. To trying to do what I watched Clive Exton seem to do in Murder in Mseopotamia, which is: to fix, correct, or otherwise refute some of the bullshit that Anthony McFreakening Horowitz implied about Agatha Christie's characters.

Lads. What the FUCK. I'm So Mad. Ough. I have allowed the curiosity to guide me into the depths, seeking the dark and forbidden knowledge!! AND NOW!! I KNOW TOO MUCH!!! I KNOW THINGS THAT I CANNOT UNKNOW!!!!!

I mean. I've got to hand it to him. Horowitz likely unintentionally gave us some pretty funny lines and some Okay VERY GAY Moments. And he definitely inspired me to try to advocate better for these characters than he ever did.

But HOO BOY, lads. HOLY FUCK. I can't believe the inciting incident that finally got me shipping Hastings and Poirot was likely that stupid dinner scene written by Anthony McFuckening Horowitz.

I can't believe I set out to prove that Hastings is NOT useless and CAN be smart and that Poirot wouldn't do Hastings like that, actshually because of Some Bullshit^TM that Anthony Horowitz decided to add to Double Clue, Murder on the Links, and Lord Edgeware Dies.

Lads. I'm reeling. If it weren't for that dinner scene, or for Anthony Horowitz's frankly terribly disrespectful treatment of my favourite characters? I MAY NOT HAVE FINISHED AN ENTIRE 57 PAGES OF A WEBCOMIC. What. WHAT.

Now. All that being said. It wouldn't actually be fair to attribute all of my fic inspiration to Horowitz. Yes, Horowitz may have written the scenes that made me want to take the characters away from him and do right by them, but it is a direct result of the brilliant works of Clive Exton and some of the other people involved in the show who actually understood the characters (like Directors Edward Bennett and Renny Rye, and screenwriters Michael Baker and Andrew Marshall, to name a few) that I came to know and love these characters.

I was already Gleefully Noticing the Signs of Gay^TM way back in the very first episode I watched, The Adventure of the Clapham Cook (Which! Incidentally! Happens to be a VERY NUTRITIOUS AND DELICIOUS Clive Exton episode! Thank you for my favouritest Poirot Lines That He Ever uttered, Mr. Exton!!!). The Signs of Gay^TM were built up in a LOT in the episodes that aired between 1989 and 2001. Many of the stories contributed by Mr. Exton et al. (and the compelling fondness and devotion they show between Hastings and Poirot) continue to help me through The Horrors that are Currently My Life. And not to be Dramatique^TM, but they even absolutely SAVED my life.

And when I started reading Christie's original works (I read The Mysterious Affair at Styles first, and yes, I read her stories in Russian, but they're still ultimately her works), I became extremely compelled by the dynamic that Agatha Christie herself built between Poirot and Hastings: specifically that Hastings seems to have his own thoughts and feelings and his own agency, but he's STILL, somehow, MADE to be Poirot's best friend, confidant, and helper. Hastings' character literally frames Poirot's, lends Poirot the necessary reverence and respect that allows the audience to Get To Know Who Poirot Is, and helps him to understand what conclusions The Average Englishman would reach, and although Hastings sometimes annoys him, Poirot can't help loving him for it.

And I just happen to believe that such a dynamic is very compelling and also can be interpreted as SUPER GAY.

So. Yes. It's hard to ignore that a lot of my fannish inspiration in the Poirot fandom... stems from me watching Double Clue, Murder on the Links, Lord Edgeware Dies, and finding myself in a place of Holy Shit, Hastings and Poirot are REALLY ACTUALLY LITERALLY LEGITLY Gay for each other, Marcus! I gotta prove that asshole wrong about them!

BUT! This all just goes to show:

Once you put your work out there into the world, you have NO control over how people (who may or may not think much more deeply about who the established characters in the source material actually are and the psychological implications of certain actions than you yourself might permit yourself to, Mr. Horowitz) might interpret it!!

More power to us fans who actually think about character dynamics, write the stories we want to hear that are still respectful to the characters, and ship what we want to ship!!!!

Then, Poirot is called back to London, and he's shoehorned into the first class car on the Orient Express at the last minute, and we're given... THIS interesting scene.

Being a last minute guest, he's forced to share this cabin with another person, who happens to be a strapping young man... and we see Poirot looking like he's trying not to stare at his half-naked young cabin mate, but... looking anyway. ...and then feeling uncomfortable about it.

And at first, it wasn't clear to me why this scene would even be in the episode, but personally, I think this scene was included to show us that there are sides to Poirot's identity that he may like to deny or ignore, but... they're still there. We've seen in the series that he tends to put those sorts of feelings up on a high shelf where he doesn't have to think about them... but sometimes, like in this scene, he's forced to confront these uncomfortable truths about himself, and when he is (just as he is when we see him struggling with whether or not he handled the scandal situation well), nine times out of ten, he chooses to either ignore the answers to these questions, or leave them undefined.

Then, after this scene, he talks to one of the people on the train who also witnessed the stoning of the "adulteress". The other witness asks him why he didn't interfere and stop those horrible people from stoning that woman, and he says,

"In the case of other cultures, I find it is best not to interfere."

And she walks away, appearing disgusted with him, but... what was he supposed to say? What could he have done? He tries to explain to her that he was disgusted by the situation, too; the situation rattled him too, but what was HE, Hercule Poirot, supposed to do? Interfering in that situation could have literally gotten him killed! And for what??

Kind of in the midst of this conversation, he introduces himself to another person who is passing in the hall, and he says his name kind of quietly.

But when that person leaves, he repeats his own name, aloud. To no one at all.

At first, I wasn't sure WHY he did that, but I've done a lot of thinking about it, and... I think, everything that's happened up to this point in the episode has really shaken his convictions about his own identity. He repeated his own name here because he needed something to affirm who he is. But if you go back, you can see on his face that, when he says his name as he's introducing himself, when he says it so softly and quietly, it must sound so hollow to him. Empty.

Who is Hercule Poirot anymore?

Is he someone who knows the difference between right and wrong? Is he someone who does the right thing? Is he someone who knows where his own responsibilities begin and where the responsibilities of others end?

"Hercule. Poirot."

He repeats his name as if to say: He is Hercule Poirot. He is a detective. He is a catholic. He is one man. He is not the supreme arbiter of justice.

Then, we see Poirot affirming his identity again when this sleazy guy Cassetti tries to buy his services (in a really... fucked up way)...

"Do you believe in God, Mister Poirot? ... I think he's like an extra gun. Extra protection..."

You're gonna do a job for me, Mister Poirot ...

You're gonna protect me ... You start now.

& Poirot says NO. He refuses this guy. Because Hercule Poirot cannot be bought with brusque, self-important bribery in a religious hat.

Then, we have this scene that shows Poirot reaffirming his identity yet again, this time through his own faith. He is a Catholic. From the place of his faith and the moral code that comes with it, he knows what is right and wrong. What is just and unjust. He knows his place in the world, and he knows what is his own responsibility... and what is God's.

So when we have him investigating the murder of Cassetti, the sleazeball who tried to hire him, and we watch as he slowly realises what was done...

12 different stab wounds... 12 different killers....

And we watch him as he realises what he has before him is a group of people who has taken upon themselves the roles of judges, jury, and executioners. And to be honest? Personally? I am on their side 100%.

And in that moment, Poirot is forced to ask himself... how is the murder committed by this group of people any different than the one committed by the crowd of people who stoned that woman at the beginning of the episode?

In one sense, yes, we have more information about the details of this particular person's crime than we do about the "adulteress'" alleged crime. ...but the group of people who took it upon themselves to administer their idea of justice & kill someone? That part of the scenario is exactly the same. So what is the right thing to do here?

And Poirot is OBVIOUSLY struggling to answer this question. On the one hand, his strict conviction--his very FAITH--tells him that it is wrong to murder people under any circumstances. As far as he's concerned, whatever a person may or may not have done is between that person and God. To Poirot, God is the only one with the authority to administer the kind of justice that would cost someone their life.

"THEN YOU LET GOD ADMINISTER IT!!"

This moral code--this integral part of his faith--is the source for his belief that it was wrong for the man at the beginning to kill himself for his involvement in the scandal. It's the source for his belief that it was wrong for the people at the beginning to stone that woman to death for being an adulteress.

But he also decided it would be wrong to interfere in those first two scenarios. In the first, he could not interfere, partially because it happened too fast for anything to be done about it. But in the second, he did not believe that it was his place to interfere.

And now, he's faced with this third scenario. And it is so frighteningly similar to the stoning, but here, there is a major difference: in this case, unlike with the stoning, he IS in a position to interfere.

Where he was not involved in the stoning, he is involved in this case, whether he likes it or not. In this case, he is the detective who investigated the murder, and he knows the most intricate details of it. He knows exactly why it happened. He can SEE that this is a group of twelve mostly GOOD people who have been terribly wronged. And they've been wronged twofold: first by Cassetti, who ruined all of their lives, and second by the system that let that man walk free when he should have been removed from society for his horrible crimes.

Poirot can absolutely understand why these 12 killers felt the need to do what they did, but he has his faith (and from it his moral conviction): it was STILL WRONG for them to administer that justice themselves. It was not their responsibility. It is God's.

And as he's standing on that precipice, asking himself the burning question: I have the power to interfere here... do I interfere? Do I walk away?

And in that moment, he resolves to interfere. To do what he believes is right. To reaffirm once and for all that murdering someone is wrong under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.

...and yet.

...He still struggles with whether or not that's the right decision.

And in the scene after he makes that resolultion, when he's talking to the woman who planned it all, she explains a bit about why she felt it was necessary.

"When you've been denied justice, you are incomplete. It feels that god has abandoned you... in a stark place. I asked god--I think we all did--what we should do, and he said: 'do what is right'. And I thought, if I did, it would make me complete again."

And Poirot (who has been struggling with the same question he knows she has to have been struggling with, too) hits the nail on the head when he asks:

"And are you?"

And she doesn't answer him.

The unspoken answer is NO.

She did what she thought was right... and she doesn't feel complete again at all.

"....But I did what was RIGHT."

And Poirot's unspoken response, the one written in his eyes, is:

Yes. You did what you felt was right. But in the end... was it worth it?

And this is the same question Poirot has been stuggling with.

You have the power to either destroy these people's lives or let them go free. Do you interfere, or do you walk away? Do you make the decision for them, or do you treat it as if it was never your choice to make in the first place?

...Okay, so you've resolved to do the "right" thing... but... in the end...

Will it be worth it?

And I think that's why he walks away.

He walks away from this mess just as he does from the stoning because... in the end. It won't be worth it to interfere. And as far as he is concerned, whatever these people may or may not have done, it's not his responsibility--it is NOT the responsibility of Hercule Poirot--to administer justice to these people.

It's God's.

But you can see on his face, as he's walking away... going against his resolve because it's not up to him to make the ultimate decision for somebody else? And to have that be a lesson he had to endure learning THREE TIMES IN RAPID SUCCESSION?

It all hurts him SO MUCH. It CUTS him right to his CORE.

And it's a lesson that hurts because it's been forcing him to question things he had always thought he was SO SURE of. And these are really tough questions:

What is right and what is wrong?

What is justice? What is morality?

Who gets to decide what all of those things are?

Who has the right to administer justice under what circumstances?

And... most devastatingly...

Who is Hercule Poirot?

And he learns...

That the answers are just as complex & messy as those questions.

Case in point: We see him use another person's attraction to him to probe into their involvement in a case in other episodes, too, such as in 10.3 After The Funeral:

And that's what his interactions with the Countess feel like to me especially since, as he talks to her, she seems to be bent on giving herself away to him?? at nearly every opportunity??

But his interactions with the Countess differ from the other cases of him doing this in two ways. For one, they have the added aspects of him understanding what she's gone through as a refugee and relating to her in this way. In some ways, he seems to understand why she would turn to a life of crime, and it seems like he very much respects her, but (for two) because of this, he wants to warn her away from trying to live this lifestyle in HIS territory. During their interactions, he is CONSTANTLY implying that he IS onto her and he WILL Get Her if she's not careful. Which. only seems to make her want him more? and. I mean. Fair I guess. He's So Sexy when he's Dangerous.

First, during their initial little promenade together, he tells her that he's the most famous detective in all of England - this is a bit of a downplay from his usual "greatest detective who ever lived" shtick, which I always found to be a bit odd...but when you really sit down and think about it, it almost feels like he's firing a warning shot across her bow...Like he's trying to warn her that he's on her trail, and England specifically isn't big enough for the both of them.

and don't even get me STARTED ON THE IMAGERY HERE of the stone ornament in the foreground LITERALLY SEPARATING THEM FROM EACH OTHER as they talk about this???? LIKE!!??? HELLO???

Then. After this, SHE'S the one who brings up that he's investigating the jewel thefts (plural), and he smiles as he says, "It seems a simple matter, Madame." Like. 'Oh yes. And I already know who did it.'

And when she ASKS HIM IF HE SUSPECTS HER, he turns it right back on her by asking "Should I?" And she admits "I was there". IMPLYING SHE WAS ON THE SCENE OF EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. OF THE JEWEL THEFTS. NOT JUST THE LATEST ONE. LIKE??? JUST CONFESS TO HIM OUTRIGHT THAT YOUDONEIT, WHY DONT'CHA???

And then, when they're at the museum, she brings up a specific one of the jewel thefts, implying that it is 'the perfect crime', and he fires another few warning shots, implying that he knows it was her:

"It is strange that you should choose to relate this to me, Countess, I also have read of it. Oh yes, the Atherton Diamonds? And it is true that the police, they were confounded, but it is because they look with the eye that is too, uh...English"

He then MENTIONS that the police failed to think of who the lowest common denominator was - who was present for all of the thefts?

and then he all but points the finger at her when he says "Because the culprit, he is not English enough".

And Look at their expressions here! She seems to be very exited by the danger he poses to her. She is leaning in. She is INTO this. But Poirot's little smile? That isn't an I'm Into This smile. That looks like his I'm Onto You smile. It doesn't even really reach his eyes.

^^^^That^^^^? is NOT the smile of a smitten man.

Now THIS? THIS is the smile of a smitten man:

Like. When Poirot meets Hastings again at Styles? When he smiles that fond little smile at Hastings in so many different episodes?? His WHOLE FACE smiles. His eyes. His nose. His cheeks. His lips. He positively Glows with it. You look at that smile and you can FEEL the fondness radiating off of him.

He smiles at the Countess? and there's nothing in his eyes but a warning. In fact, sometimes when he's smiling "at" her, he's ACTIVELY LOOKING AWAY from her.

Which leads us to some other points about Poirot's behaviour and body language when he's around the Countess: Poirot seems to be very Pointedly Keeping the Countess at Arm's Length, which. He kinda does that to everyone, sure (in some ways, he even keeps Hastings at arm's length, too). But. I feel like many of his particular behaviours towards the countess wouldn't make sense if he was actually interested in her:

Firstly. Taking Poirot's own understanding of Love as our definition, when someone is in love with someone else, they smile at them and can't take their eyes off them (see episode 11.3 The Third Girl). and if you take another look at those pictures above, you'll see: Poirot's behaviour towards HASTINGS fits this definition quite well, actually.

And sure, Poirot smiles at the Countess sometimes. But, as I mention above, HE BARELY LOOKS AT HER WHEN THEY'RE TOGETHER. And half the time, he's looking off into space and he seems to be deep in thought.

During their first little promenade scene, he glances at her all of three times, and each time, it is for less than 2 seconds. He's not gazing at her like a man infatuated.

He gazes at Hastings, though. (Oh my, does he GAZE at Hastings. And Hastings gazes right back.)

Secondly, the Countess calls Poirot 'Hercule' twice in this episode, and each time, he doesn't seem to like it very much.

When the Countess calls Poirot 'Hercule' for the first time, it's at the museum. In response, he simply says "I do not think that there is anyone of my acquaintance who calls me by that name" (I would read that as a clear reminder that, она - знакомая, а не друг, и для русскоговрящего, это - очень важное различение [she's an acquaintance not a friend, and that is a very important distinction for a Russian speaker]). And when she apologises, he doesn't reassure her that it's alright. He doesn't say something to the effect of "Oh, it is alright for you to call me Hercule, I was simply surprised". No. He says "Madame." and goes DEAD SILENT. Almost as if to say "Yeah. Don't call me that." It's like he's saying "You're not allowed to get close to me. Don't Even Try."

And here's him looking away from her right after it happens. Again, I feel like he'd at least be looking at her if he was actually happy to be called that again

The second time she calls him Hercule, it's when she's about to leave on the train:

"Oh, I won't forget you, Hercule." "Nor I you... countess."

When he answers her, HE ANSWERS WITH HER TITLE, NOT HER NAME, and he doesn't even lean into her kiss look at how far out the window she's leaning, like. c'mon.

Which brings us to my third point: he doesn't seem to want to touch her. And when she touches him, he doesn't seem to know how to Handle It.

Like. To provide contrast for this, we know he touches Hastings every chance he can get, because whenever he gets an excuse, it's clear that he wants to touch him so bad. Just for one in-episode example, in the wound-care scene, he's feeling guilty for putting Hastings in danger, so he leaves his hand on Hastings' shoulder for a good. like. 20-30 seconds. He wants Hastings to feel his remorse, and so he lets his hand linger. and watch closely the next time you watch this episode, because when it's time for him to leave, he doesn't just take his hand away, he lets it slowly slip off Hastings' back like he doesn't want to let go.

And don't even get me STARTED on Hastings' Biting little Jealous "Where are you taking her?" Comment BABY IT'S OKAY HE'S NOT ACTUALLY INTO HER YOU ARE HIS ONE AND ONLY LOVE

He does touch the countess at the Picnic, but it's only for a moment, and, the way the shot is framed so that we never see his expression as he reacts to the touch? it really seems to be more for her benefit than it is for his own.

And when the countess takes his arm at the museum, he doesn't smile, he doesn't blush or look flustered. No. He was smiling to himself right before that, and the second she takes his arm, he looks surprised and he actually STOPS SMILING. Look at the set of his eyebrows...pointing down towards the bridge of his nose instead of up. He almost looks annoyed.

^^I don't feel like this is the behaviour of a man who is happy to be receiving attention from someone he's attracted to. I feel like this is the behaviour of a man who is NOT into this at all, but he's gotta keep stringing her along if he wants to distract her from stealing more jewels^^

Which brings us to my next point: Yes, he's 'taking her out on dates' or 'letting HER take HIM out on dates' or whatever. But when you think about why he's doing this? He seems to be trying to Keep Her Occupied. No more jewel thefts? No more threats to Japp's career.

and again. DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE IMAGERY HERE. She's reclining on the blanket and he's not even reclining next to her!! He's frikken SITTING IN A CHAIR ABOVE HER. That's not "I'm into this person" behaviour!!!

Perhaps he's doing this as an experiment - if there is a robbery while they are together, he can eliminate her as a suspect, but if not...

Of Course. He Can't eliminate her as a suspect. Because He Knows She Totally Did It. But he kinda feels sorry for her. Because in some ways? He can relate to losing everything. In some ways, he respects her. And in some ways, he thinks of what she does as a necessary evil.

He tells us as much at their picnic together when he implies to her that it's criminals (like her) that give him job security. Perhaps he respects how smart she is and how well she was able to commit the crime he was brought in to investigate (even though he obviously saw right through her from the very beginning). And perhaps he also respects that, despite her chosen occupation, she chooses to be a Refined and Proper Lady who Doesn't Kill People and Only Robs Rich People. And that she's clearly someone with a method. All things Poirot can respect/appreciate.

THEN. TO KEEP HER OCCUPIED WHEN HE CAN'T DO IT HIMSELF, he gets two other private detectives to keep an eye on her, implying that they're there to make sure she leaves the country without doing any more crime: "during your time here in England, there have been four very clever robberies. I do not wish for you to be involved in a fifth."

SO. Poirot basically spends the entire episode trying to give the Countess time to run away and continue her...somewhat necessary work Somewhere Else Please And Thank You and to sneakily tell her 'England isn't big enough for the both of Us. Don't You Dare Let Me Catch You Being a Thief in My Town Ever Again Or I Will Not Be Able To Give You A Second Chance And It Will Greatly Sadden Me.'

And he says it right out loud when he says: "You must continue your work and I must continue mine. But not in the same country."

AND FINALLY, and perhaps most importantly, let's get to the whole reason I started writing this post in the first place: What's UP with the Countess??

Well. I don't think she's the Countess Vera Rossakoff at all. I don't even think she's actually Russian.

What? Yes. Listen.

So She's supposed to be this countess-turned-refugee from Petrograd (which is known today as St. Petersburg)? Okay. You know what? Fair. I would absolutely buy that she's a refugee given that she seems to understand what it's like to lose everything. And it is clear that she is familiar enough with Russia to understand something about Russian impressionist artists and to know that an educated Russian person at the time would absolutely know how to speak French.

And she does make a compelling statement when she calls the city she is supposedly from Petrograd (even though by the time when the episode is set, it would have already been renamed to Leningrad); By calling the city Petrograd and not Leningrad, she's invoking a time period during The Great War when anti-german sentiments were enough to take the german-root words Sankt and Burg out of the city's name, but of course, in her case, right up until the Bolsheviks rose to power, which would supposedly be a clue as to when she left Russia.

So Why don't I think she's Actually Russian if she does all these things """correctly"""?

Well. I'm a Linguist. So my impression is mostly based on how she speaks.

First of all, we never actually hear her speaking Russian (only French and English), and the way she speaks English doesn't follow some of the more frequent patterns of Russian phonotactics and grammatical constructions that often find their way into Russian speakers' English. For example, she uses the sound [ð] (the "th" sound in words like "this" and "the"), which is a notoriously difficult sound for Russian speakers to learn because it's not a sound that's found in Russian, and even her education in French wouldn't be able to help her master that sound, because it's not a sound Parisian French speakers typically use either. Moreover, she uses definite and indefinite articles (the words "the" and "a" respectively), which are notoriously difficult for native Russian speakers to learn because Russian does not have these articles. Her education in French should help her with these, but even if it did, she would probably use more of them than a native English-speaker would expect (kind of like Poirot does) because articles are used in more places in French -- and she doesn't.

Second of all, she doesn't use Russian intonational patterns in the places I would expect to hear it. For example: she asks 'Do you suspect me?' with a rising intonation at the end of the phrase. Based on the Russian intonational patterns most commonly used with questions, I would expect a Russian speaker to say 'Do you suspect me?', emphasising the focal word instead and ending the phrase with a falling intonation.

(Obviously, in reality, these little quirks of her speech are probably just due to writing choices and the actress not knowing much about speaking Russian / probably not having an accent coach, but. It's fun to come up with little in-universe explanations for these things!!)

SO. Let's be real, lads. A jewel thief could absolutely assume the identity of a dead Russian countess if she said all the right things & had enough money from hocking her wares to buy a really nice wardrobe and some good luggage / manage to look and act the part.

But the simplest--and, if you ask me, most damning--piece of Evidence-That-She's-Not-Russian of all?

That would be her saying that she has no use for the cigarette case Poirot tries to give her because she read the initials engraved there as the English letters 'B' and 'P'.

AND POIROT IS THE ONE WHO HAS TO EXPLAIN TO HER that those symbols also stand for the 'V' and 'R' sounds in Russian!!!!

AND WHEN HE DOES, she only looks dumbfounded and says "You've been studying!"

If she was really a Russian Speaker? She would have taken one look at the BP on that cigarette case and read it as a 'V' sound & an 'R' sound just as easily as reading it as English "B" & "P".

Source? As a bilingual English-Russian Speaker myself, what happened in my head immediately upon seeing that cigarette case at the beginning of the episode. Was that my brain unhelpfully lol supplied both the English Phrase "Blood Pressure" and the Russian Word "время" (time), which starts with those two letters.

I would argue that. If the Countess was really a Russian speaker, a similar kind of thought process should have happened in her brain, too. And given that Russian is supposedly her first language (or at least one of the ones she would have had the most exposure to), she should have read those letters as 'V' & 'R' first. But this so-called Vera Rossakoff? Reads these letters as the English 'B' & 'P'? Come ON.

Now. I guess you could argue that, since she was in England and speaking English with Poirot at the time, that she would have been ""In English Mode"" and that she could have "Not Been Thinking" that BP also makes the 'V' & 'R' sounds in Russian.

But. There is a lot of literature out there in the psycholinguistics world to suggest that multilinguals cannot suppress one of their languages to that extent (especially not a language one has supposedly known since birth) - and most recent scholarship on competition between a multilinguals' languages agrees on one thing: words and sounds in all the languages known to the multilingal are activated in the brain during linguistic processing.

There are many psycholinguistics studies which delve into these mental processes. In case you're interested in the scholarship on this particular topic, here's some links: Here's one that talks about between-language competition during reading in multilinguals who speak languages with different scripts (English vs. Korean): Moon & Jiang (2011) Here's one that talks about between-language competition between words with a similar orthography (spelling) during reading in Dutch-English Bilinguals: van Heuven, W. J. B., Dijkstra, T., & Grainger, J. (1998) And here's a couple of studies by the same people that focus on a similar kind of between-language competition in Russian-English bilinguals specifically (although it's about spoken language instead of reading, but the mechanisms in the brain are probably very similar): Marian & Spivey (1999); Marian & Spivey (2003)

All of the above scholarship basically suggests that, when someone is processing words or sounds, even if the sounds/words of one of their languages do eventually get less activation than those of another, there is always some activation of all languages known to the multilingual at any given time during processing, and that competition between languages for activation differs depending on how familiar a speaker is with a given language (in other words, the more familiar the person is with a specific language, the more likely its words/sounds/etc. are to get activated in the brain during perception or production).

ANYWAY. I'M SORRY I KNOW SOME OF THAT WAS WORD SOUP. BUT LADS?? ALL I'M REALLY FUCKEN SAYING. IS SHE DAMN WELL SHOULD HAVE RECOGNISED HER OWN FUCKING INITIALS.

THEREFORE. TLDR??? I DON'T THINK SHE'S REALLY A RUSSIAN SPEAKER. BECAUSE ANY RUSSIAN SPEAKER WOULD SEE THE LETTERS ON THAT CIGARETTE CASE AND READ 'V' & 'R' FIRST. AND IF SHE DIDN'T RECOGNISE SOMETHING SHE SHOULD HAVE BEEN GETTING FAMILIAR WITH FROM THE TIME SINCE SHE STARTED LEARNING HOW TO READ, I DON'T THINK THOSE ARE REALLY HER INITIALS.

AND I BROUGHT A BIBLIOGRAPHY TO PROVE IT.

ALSO. TO RECAP MY POINTS FROM EARLIER. POIROT WAS NEVER INTO HER, EVEN THOUGH EVERYONE--INCLUDING HASTINGS--THOUGHT HE WAS.

NO. HE WANTED TO STUDY HER LIKE A BUG BECAUSE SHE'S A JEWELLERY THIEF WHO IS GOOD ENOUGH AT HER 'CHOSEN OCCUPATION' TO IMPERSONATE A RUSSIAN COUNTESS AND BASICALLY GET AWAY WITH IT, DESPITE ALL THE STUPID MISTAKES SHE'S BEEN MAKING. AND, LIKE A BUG, POIROT CAN APPRECIATE HER PLACE IN THE ECOSYSTEM, AS LONG AS IT DOES NOT INCLUDE HIS HOUSE.

IN THIS EPISODE, HE BASICALLY PUTS HER IN A GLASS JAR FOR A FEW DAYS TO OBSERVE HER SO SHE WILL STOP WREAKING HAVOC AND THEN HE PUTS HER OUTSIDE AND TELLS HER NEVER TO COME BACK INTO THE HOUSE AGAIN, OR ELSE.

AND!!! LET ME REITERATE!! THAT!!! HERCULE POIROT!!! IS IN LOVE!! WITH ONE PERSON!! AND ONE PERSON ONLY!! AND THAT PERSON'S NAME IS CAPTAIN ARTHUR J.M. HASTINGS!!!

I REST MY CASE YOUR HONOUR.

Anyway!!!! TLDR-TLDR: If you ask me, Poirot's behaviour towards the countess isn't that of a Man in Love. It's the calculating behaviour of someone who knows a good adversary when he sees one (even if her attraction to him made her transparent from the start) and a man who would feel a little like he was vandalising an exquisite forgery of a Rembrandt if he had to go and get her arrested - like. Sure, she may not be the real thing, but damn, is she good at playing her part.

AANYWAAY Now that I have shouted my opinions at the subway walls. I will stop here. because this post has already gotten entIRELY too long.