To anyone who knows me, I’m an absolute sucker for a thriller, ‘whodunnit’, crime book, film, TV series, you name it, I’ll watch it. For those who know what’s in my book collection, they’ll find it inundated with Agatha Christie novels. 

I’ve read nearly three-quarters of her Poirot series, as well as a number of her standalone mystery novels. I think that qualifies me as a certified Christie-nut and amateur sleuth. So when Netflix dropped Agatha Christie’s Seven Dials Mystery earlier this week, I knew my expertise was being called to figure out this whodunnit.

Spoiler: I figured it out. A benefit of reading and watching thrillers since childhood means you can pick apart the evidence, plot holes and formulae followed by writers. In essence, the majority follow the same formula, and once you realise this, you begin to employ your own “little grey cells”.

However, on the other hand, it means that those all-important climactic moments simply don’t hit the sweet spot as they once had. Nothing surprises me anymore, sadly.

Seven Dials has all of the classic Christie elements: a plucky protagonist in search for justice, a group of characters who could be in the fold for murder, and a series of revelations made known right at the end. However, translating Christie’s work from page to screen is a different task, and Seven Dials fell short.

There’s a whiff of conspiracy running through the show, which Bundle (Mia McKenna-Bruce, a triumph) is determined to pin down, of something much larger than herself. It’s entertaining, there’s no doubt about that, however, for me, it lacked suspense and heightened tensions.

Perhaps that’s down to the muddying of the ending, which differs slightly from the novel. There’s nothing wrong with making tweaks and adapting them for screen, but I’ve watched and listened to better versions of Christie’s mysteries.

Here are five Christie’s stories that will make you think twice and then twice again.

This novel began my encounter with Christie when I listened to the BBC Radio 4 version at 14 years old. It was an ending you just couldn’t see coming.

When the mini series dropped in 2015, I knew there were expectations to be met. A group of unassuming and unrelated strangers are invited by mysterious hosts to dinner on a desolate island off the coast of Devon. 

All from varying backgrounds and professions, the air of grace is shattered at the first dinner, when a recording played via a gramophone accuses them of various crimes. One by one, each of the guests are picked off, leaving minimal evidence as to who or what was after them. 

The plot follows the rhyme of “Ten Little Soldier Boys”, where each of the guests and the island’s two caretakers are killed in a manner relating to the rhyme. You don’t know who to trust or where to look. 

The BBC television series shortcuts the novel’s ending slightly, by making the “big reveal” in the final moments of the episode. It makes for a more satisfying ending for those unfamiliar with the novel. 

However, unfurling the killer’s plan in the audio version is so scintillatingly delicious for Christie fans. And Then There Were None has been ranked among the world’s best mystery novels, and it’s clear to see why.

David Suchet will forever be the one and only Hercule Poirot, and Murder on the Orient Express is arguably Poirot’s most famous case. It’s really the epitome of a whodunnit, and the answer is… Oh no, now that would be telling. 

You have a whole host of passengers on board the train who are all seemingly strangers. But as always, nothing is as it seems. 

When American businessman Samuel Ratchett asks Poirot for his help after receiving death threats, which the detective refuses. Ratchett is then found brutally murdered in his cabin, just as the train becomes stuck in a snowdrift. There’s nowhere for the murder to run or hide. 

In lieu of any police on board, Poirot leads the charge of finding the murderer. 

The murder uncovers the tragic story of Daisy Armstrong, the victim of a kidnapping and murder by American gangster, Casetti. The child’s death leads to tragedy upon tragedy, culminating in Casetti escaping justice… until he meets his demise on the Orient Express. 

The story constantly makes you ask who? What? When? How? Right until the very end. Christie’s ending is probably among the biggest literary plot twists of all time. There’s been nothing like it since. 

Although my heart belongs to David Suchet, Peter Ustinov’s version of Death on the Nile creates an authentic photo of the time it portrays… especially when compared to Kenneth Branagh’s remake. Sorry, Kenneth.

Ustinov’s version of Poirot is different from Suchet’s, priding himself on wit rather than subtle deductions with his “little grey cells”, which makes for an interesting watch. Its jam-packed cast is nothing to be sniffed at, with a young Maggie Smith as the hoighty-toighty spinster-like nurse, Angela Lansbury as the ultimate caricature of an early 20th century romance novelist, and that’s just the start of it. Jane Birkin, Bette Davis, David Niven, Mia Farrow, a tremendous group of acting talent.

When a young heiress (Lois Chiles) dies on the S.S Karnak, everyone appears to have a motive. It’s one of those stories where you don’t know where to look, and where you are looking is probably wrong. 

Death on the Nile is one of Christie’s classics that keeps you on your toes throughout. 

There are only a handful of Poirot stories that take place on different shores, and Murder in Mesopotamia brings a sense of adventure to the quaint detective novels. In classic Poirot fashion, he seems to have happened upon the murder… either he has great detective intuition or extremely ominous timing. 

Poirot is led to an archaeological dig in Iraq by an old relation, where Swedish-American archaeologist, Dr Eric Leidner, is leading charge. His seemingly-neurotic wife, Louise (Barbara Barnes) has been tormented by death threats from whom she believes to be her dead ex-husband. After years of quiet, the threatening letters begin again, and she is ultimately found dead under suspicious circumstances.

Poirot is tasked with finding her killer, as there seemed to be no conceivable way her murder was carried out. Has the past come to rear its ugly head or is it a ruse?

Another one of Christie’s standalone mysteries. The BBC mini series was my first introduction to this particular Christie story, having finally read the novel in 2025 after resting on my bookshelf for years. 

A murder, a potential miscarriage of justice, and a strange man appearing two years later out nowhere providing an alibi. Nothing is as it seems.

The picture-perfect Argyll – written differently in the book – family are struck down by tragedy when matriarch Rachel (Anna Chancellor) is found dead in the family’s palatial mansion, where she lived with her husband, five adopted children, and live-in maid. 

The case seems simple enough, with troubled son Jack (played by Anthony Boyle) swiftly arrested for the crime. However, he’s found dead in prison before ever standing trial. 

Two years later, once the family finally seems at rest, geophysicist Arthur Calgary arrives to provide an alibi for Jack for the murder. The show unravels a whole web of issues hidden behind closed doors, with the murderer still among them. 

The novel and TV series’ endings differ, but both are equally messy. True Christie fans may want the show to remain faithful to the novel, but sometimes an alternate ending works better for television to up the ante.