Into the valley of death...
Ahead, between the towering red cliffs of Petra, Sarah saw a cluster of tents and above them caves, hollowed out of the red rocks. She stared up at one of these which held a sitting figure. An idol? A gigantic squatting image? Her heart gave a sudden lurch of recognition... Gone, now, was the feeling of peace - of escape. Looming above her like an arch priestess of some forgotten cult, like a monstrous swollen female Buddha, was the figure of Mrs Boynton...
'Poirot has surpassed himself! Never before has he been so brilliant, so accurate, so fair and so logical.'
EVENING NEWS
'Twice as brilliant as Death on the Nile, which was entirely brilliant.'
OBSERVER
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