In 2024, having completed all the Poirots, I read Dame Agatha Christie’s complete Miss Marple canon, consisting of 12 novels and 20 short stories. My earliest memories of Miss Marple are of the terrifying ice-blue eyes of the Joan Hickson version, quietly eviscerating a murder. It’s clear why Christie suggested her casting: she personifies the pitiless retribution of Nemesis and gets to the heart of the character – Miss Marple isn’t a nice old lady twinkling gently (a mistake made by some of the other actors to have attempted the role). There’s something very frightening about her. “Creepy” is a word that continually crops up in these stories. While Poirot may be dedicated to the cause of justice, creepy he is not.