Summary
Detective-Inspector Japp is stunned by Poirot's insights into Alfred Inglethorp's innocence, and grateful to him for preventing a public disgrace for Scotland Yard had they arrested a prominent society figure like Alfred Inglethorp on flawed pretenses. Japp implores Alfred to explain why he didn't simply clear his name at the inquest, and Poirot and Alfred jointly explain that Alfred's innocence hinges upon a scandalous confession—that he was spending time at the Raikes's farm. Alfred maintains that the rumors that he was cheating on Emily with Mrs. Raikes are false, but that it is nonetheless true that he was over there discussing sensitive matters. Japp proclaims that he, personally, would take any number of salacious rumors about himself over prison time.
Poirot, Hastings, and the two men from the Scotland Yard return to the Hall to further investigate the room. Poirot asks Hastings to stand on the other side of the Hall, where Cynthia's room is, and wait. Hastings waits there for about twenty minutes, wondering what Poirot hopes to glean by his waiting there, or whether Poirot expects some ambush for which he needs Hastings to stand guard; however, when Poirot returns, he simply asks Hastings if he was able to hear a loud thud. Hastings heard nothing of the sort. Poirot notes this excitedly, but fails to explain why it excites him.
In the course of conversation, Poirot reveals his distaste for Dr. Bauerstein, and Hastings wholeheartedly agrees. Hastings recounts Bauerstein's brief visit for coffee the night before Emily died, and the casual revelation that Bauerstein was present at Styles the night before the murder sends Poirot into a tizzy. He scolds Hastings for failing to disclose Bauerstein's presence and proclaims that the information of Bauerstein's presence on that fateful night "alters everything" (128). Poirot is certain that someone must have impersonated Alfred Inglethorp at the chemist's shop, and furthermore, he feels he is able to clear Mary Cavendish and Cynthia of this charge because they were both around the tennis courts when the strychnine was purchased, as seen by Hastings.
Poirot asks Hastings if he has any suspects, and Hastings bashfully admits that he thinks it is slightly hasty of them to clear Eve Howard so easily, simply because she was not at the Estate. Hastings makes the point that she was merely fifteen miles from Styles and could have made the trip in thirty minutes by car. Poirot assures Hastings that he called the hospital where Howard works and confirmed that she was in fact working the day the poison was purchased. Poirot then brainstorms with Hastings about what possible motive Eve Howard would have to kill Emily Inglethorp. Finally, Poirot informs Hastings that he is having a second sample of the cocoa analyzed. Hastings doesn't understand the purpose of this analysis, and Poirot will not expand on it. Hastings admits that though his confidence in Poirot had been dipping prior to his masterful exoneration of Inglethorp, it has been fully restored.
Emily's funeral occurs the Monday following the inquest. Alfred Inglethorp moves off the family property to the Stylites Arms to figure out his next move now that he is a widower. John expresses remorse to Hastings for being so sure that Alfred killed his mother now that he appears to be innocent. In the week following the funeral, the newspapers and tabloids run the story of "The Mysterious Affair at Styles" every day, including salacious biographies of the Cavendishes and Inglethorps. It is precisely the type of attention John Cavendish hoped to avoid. One morning at breakfast, Dorcas approaches Hastings and tells him to relate a message to Poirot; she tells Hastings that it occurred to her after Poirot asked about whether anyone in the house owned a green garment that John and Lawrence have a chest of costumery in the attic that they used to use for skits. She tells Hastings that there very well may be a green dress in there.
Poirot and Hastings investigate the chest and find a black wool beard at the very bottom of it, recently trimmed to conform to the shape of Alfred Inglethorp's beard. Poirot thanks Dorcas for notifying them of the chest's existence. Once he is alone again with Hastings, Poirot confirms that he is certain the beard they found is the beard that was used to purchase strychnine while impersonating Alfred Inglethorp. Poirot also deduces that whoever hid the beard in that chest picked the perfect place to hide it, because it could exist in the chest naturally and unremarked on, it being a costumery chest. He tells Hastings, "He is intelligent. But we must be more intelligent. We must be so intelligent that he does not suspect us of being intelligent at all" (138).
Poirot tells Hastings that he needs an ally in the house, and Hastings is offended because he feels like Poirot doesn't realize his full potential. Poirot quickly placates Hastings by assuring him that he is a valuable asset, but that everyone at Styles already knows that they are working together, and he requires someone who is in the inner circle. Poirot appeals to Eve Howard, despite her animosity toward him for clearing Alfred Inglethorp's name. He and Eve have a coded conversation in which Poirot suggests that she has a strong but unsavory suspicion about who actually poisoned Emily, and Eve seems to play right into the suggestion; she begs him to stop, as if the truth is too hard to handle or too shameful to admit. The suggestion seems to be that Poirot is implying one of Emily's sons did the poisoning, or someone so close to Emily that Eve doesn't want to admit to even conceiving of it as a possibility. But neither Eve nor Poirot ever say the alleged suspect's name aloud. They end the encounter with Eve pledging her loyalty and watchfulness to Poirot's cause: avenging Emily's death. Poirot assures Hastings that Eve Howard will be an invaluable ally to the investigation.
After the encounter with Eve Howard, Hastings scampers off to deliver a cryptic message from Poirot to Lawrence Cavendish. Poirot refuses to explain the message to Hastings and claims that Hastings has all the facts he needs to interpret the clue himself. Hastings is frustrated by Poirot's instinct to withhold theories from him, but he is sure that with some cross-examination of Lawrence, he will be able to interpret the message on his own. He finds Lawrence playing croquette on the lawn and relates Poirot's message: "find the extra coffee cup, and you can rest in peace" (145). Lawrence has no idea what this message means. He asks Hastings to repeat it and then advises him to ask some of the maid staff. Lawrence then expounds briefly on the joys of handling fine China. Hastings returns to Poirot and reports that Lawrence was totally puzzled by the message.
Meanwhile, Poirot asks Mary Cavendish if she is quite sure that the door to Emily Inglethorp's room was bolted, rather than just simply locked. Mary replies that she doesn't remember—she was using the word "bolted" at the inquest interchangeably with "locked"—however, Lawrence Cavendish claims that he did happen to see the door that led from Cynthia's room to Emily's, and he maintains that it was, in fact, literally bolted. Lawrence's testimony seems to disappoint Poirot, as if he had a theory that relied on the door being merely locked rather than bolted.
After lunch, Hastings wanders off into the woods. He reflects on how distant the crime seems at this point, like it was all part of a bad dream. He drifts off and takes a snooze under the shade of a tree and wakes later in a rather awkward position, for he is within earshot of an argument between Mary and John Cavendish, but they do not know that he's there. Hastings overhears them arguing about how much time Mary spends with Dr. Bauerstein. John even asks Mary if she's in love with Bauerstein, to which she smiles and responds, "Perhaps" (151). In the course of their argument, it is also clear that Mary is accusing John of having extra-marital affairs of his own. Mary leaves the woods and Hastings makes his entrance intentionally ostentatious so that John might think he was just happening upon the scene, rather than that he'd been there the whole time. John doesn't seem to suspect that Hastings overheard him and Mary. He expresses his hopelessness to Hastings about the future of the Cavendish name due to all of the salacious journalism going around. Hastings encourages his friend to chin up and keep an optimistic attitude about it, because it surely cannot go on forever.
Later in the day, Cynthia asks Hastings if he will join her on a walk after lunch to discuss a pressing matter. He agrees. It occurs to Hastings, as he observes the way Mary Cavendish regards Cynthia, that Cynthia may be in a bad position now that Emily is dead. Emily didn't seem to have made any provisions for Cynthia in her will, counting on the idea that John and Mary would make sure she was taken care of. After lunch, Hastings and Cynthia go for a walk. Hastings remarks to Cynthia that Poirot hopes to visit her at the dispensary soon. Cynthia encourages him to bring Poirot. Then she gets into the issue at hand, which is that she feels Mary Cavendish hates her and will try to cut her out of life at Styles. She was promised by Emily that she would be provided for, but when the will was read, she found that she was not included. Hastings is shocked to hear that Cynthia thinks Mary Cavendish hates her. Cynthia also makes a point to say that Lawrence doesn't give her the time of day, either. She knows that John is fond of her and that Evelyn is nice enough, but ultimately she is debating whether or not to leave Styles-St.-Mary and start fresh somewhere new. At this point in the conversation, Hastings asks Cynthia to marry him. Recounting the moment, he says, "Unwittingly, I had hit upon a sovereign remedy for her tears" (158), because his proposal elicits hearty laughter from Cynthia, who tells him not to be silly and skips back toward the estate.
Hastings, a bit miffed by Cynthia's response, goes into the village to check up on Dr. Bauerstein, but when he arrives to the place where Bauerstein boards, he is told that the doctor had been arrested. Hastings hastens to find Poirot before the clerk at the boardinghouse can even explain why Bauerstein was arrested in the first place. When Hastings arrives at Poirot's boardinghouse he is told that Poirot went to London. Hastings weighs whether or not to discuss the arrest with the other residents of the Hall; he presumes the news will be especially hard on Mary, whose fondness for Bauerstein may even verge on love. Hastings informs John of Bauerstein's arrest, and they are both certain that he was arrested for the murder of Emily Inglethorp. However, when Poirot finally returns from London and Hastings brings him the news of Bauerstein's arrest, Poirot seems neither surprised nor moved by the information. Hastings presses him, insisting that he was right about Bauerstein murdering Emily. Poirot is stunned by what Hastings is saying. He claims to have never suggested such a thing, and says that if Bauerstein were arrested for murdering Emily Inglethorp, it "would be too good a farce" (164).
Poirot is not, however, surprised that Bauerstein was arrested instead for espionage. Poirot posits that Bauerstein is a spy for the Germans, and that it is not so far-fetched a conclusion considering Bauerstein is a German by birth and a famous doctor who would otherwise have no other compelling reason to ply his trade in such a small, unpopulated town like Styles. He supposes that Bauerstein was merely using Mary for gossip and intel. Hastings is a little too excited about this news, because he, himself, is quite fond of Mary. Poirot moves on to question Dorcas about a new theory of his. He asks her whether, the day before the tragedy, there was anything wrong with Emily's call-bell. Dorcas is rather stunned to hear him say that, because the bell was, in fact, broken that day, but she didn't think anything of it; she supposed that a rat or a mouse had chewed through the wire of it. This information sends Poirot into a tizzy, and he bounds off to press his theory further, leaving Hastings alone with Mary Cavendish.
John begins by advocating for Cynthia to Mary, but Mary stops him quickly and assures him that Cynthia will experience no unkindness from her. Then she gets very personal with Hastings and asks him if he thinks she and John are happy together. Hastings uncomfortably replies that it is surely none of his business, but Mary continues, regardless, and tells him that she is very much not happy in her marriage to John. She tells Hastings about her childhood, that her mother died when she was just a baby from an overdose of sleeping medication, and that she traveled around the world with her father until he died, leaving her to stay with some older aunts in Yorkshire. She explains that she never loved John, but he presented a way out of her unbearable lifestyle when he proposed. She said that she was upfront with John from the beginning regarding her feelings, or lack thereof, but that John, too, had quickly tired of her and sought affection elsewhere. Hastings, immediately regretting it, asks Mary whether she'd heard that Dr. Bauerstein has been arrested. She coldly responds that John had been "so kind" as to break the news to her earlier (171). He asks her what she thinks of it, and she says simply that he was a German spy, and suggests there is nothing to think of it. Then she walks off.
When Hastings finally catches back up with Poirot, Poirot is excited to share a new piece of evidence. When he went to the dispensary, he managed to dust and lift a set of fingerprints off the strychnine solution there that matches Lawrence Cavendish's prints. Poirot claims that Lawrence may have just been fulfilling his curiosity as a person trained to be a physician, but nonetheless he remarks that there is much too much strychnine in this case, and it has become rather confusing. As they discuss, Mary Cavendish shows up to call after Hastings. Poirot cryptically tells Mary that if she ever needs a "father-confessor" that "Papa Poirot" is here for her (178). Mary is startled by his suggestion, but changes the subject by proposing a walk back to the Hall together. When they arrive back at the Hall, Dorcas is in a panic, because Scotland Yard has arrested John Cavendish.
Analysis
The relationship that has at this point in the novel developed almost fully between Arthur Hastings and Hercule Poirot is worth noting, because it is a stark departure from the most prominent detective-sidekick duo in English literature theretofore, a duo that is, in fact, referenced in The Mysterious Affair at Styles: Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson. Poirot and Hastings go on to serve as Agatha Christie's version of a Holmes and Watson, with Hastings making regular appearances as a sort of helper and confidante to Poirot in future novels. Their interactions in The Mysterious Affair at Styles are of special note because it is Christie's first novel and therefore their first time working together.
One of Poirot's major appeals to readers at the time was that he eschewed the self-importance and brooding somberness of traditional detective figures. He is, as Menand writes, "theatrical" and impish and an altogether comedic and curious spectacle unto himself. Hastings narrates the story, much like Watson narrates many of the Sherlock Holmes tales. Hastings, however, brings a more emotional, frustrated lens to the task of relating Poirot's exploits—an important distinction between Hastings and Watson is that Holmes respects Watson and believes him to be a valuable partner with conscious contributions to make; Poirot actively disparages Hastings' fumbled attempts to draw conclusions from evidence, relate facts, and generally contribute to the pursuit of truth. Hastings is acutely conscious of Poirot's regard of him—when he finds that Poirot has, once again, absconded to Tadminster without telling him, Hastings says, "I was getting angry. He was really treating us in the most cavalier fashion" (172), and this sense that Poirot is mistreating him, underappreciating him, or failing to see his true value really permeates the tone of the entire text. In fact, in Chapter 8, just after the discovery of the costume chest, Poirot tells Hastings that he "will be of great assistance to" him, and Hastings narrates, "I was pleased with the compliment. There had been times when I hardly thought that Poirot appreciated me at my true worth" (138-139). Of course, this instance also underscores Hastings' unselfconscious, slightly pitiful anxiety around being underappreciated, because the process in which Poirot proclaims he will be of assistance is feigning unintelligence. Poirot says, "We must be so intelligent that he does not suspect us of being intelligent at all," and this, evading suspicions of intelligence, is where Poirot sees Hastings' worth.
The tension between Poirot and Hastings is made all the more difficult to behold in that it is so obviously one-sided. Hastings exposits every perceived slight, while Poirot seems altogether oblivious that he is making Hastings feel slighted. The dynamic is even further charged by Hastings' sheepish but very earnest ambitions to be a detective himself, which he admits as early as Chapter 1. Hastings talks a big game, and he believes that he has what it takes to be a detective on par with Sherlock Holmes (whom he invokes when describing his career ambitions). At this early point in the novel, well before Poirot has even appeared as a character, Hastings boasts, "I came across a man in Belgium once, a very famous detective, and he quite inflamed me. He was a marvellous little fellow. He used to say that all good detective work was a mere matter of method. My system is based on his—though of course I have progressed rather further. He was a funny little man, a great dandy, but wonderfully clever" (8-9). Here, Hastings—in retrospect somewhat embarrassingly—claims that his "system" has far surpassed that of Poirot's. But Poirot quickly cuts Hastings down to size when he coincidentally arrives at Styles. For example, when Hastings attempts to relate the events of the tragedy to Poirot, Poirot says, "I am pleased with you. You have a good memory, and you have given me the facts faithfully. Of the order in which you present them, I say nothing—truly, it is deplorable!" (39-40). And, throughout the novel, Hastings makes his hurt feelings public knowledge to the reader. He pouts about, feeling slighted by Poirot, but privately reading into encounters to buoy himself back up. For example, after Poirot returns from one of his solo expeditions, Hastings is annoyed. Poirot asks Hastings if he is annoyed, and he denies it, and with his denial Poirot expresses relief. Hastings narrates, "This was not quite what I had intended. I had hoped that he would have observed the stiffness of my manner. Still, the fervour of his words went towards the appeasing of my just displeasure. I thawed" (147). Later, when Hastings suggests that Poirot had accused Bauerstein of poisoning Emily, Poirot acts like it is the most absurd suggestion Hastings has made thus far. Hastings narrates, "Poirot gave me one look, which conveyed a wondering pity, and his full sense of the utter absurdity of such an idea" (164).
A great deal of the psychological content of this novel has nothing at all to do with murder, but rather with a very insecure, vain narrator who wishes to be thought of as brilliant. Hastings craves praise from Poirot, as well as from the young women at Styles for whom he feels various and fleeting affection. Hastings harbors a slight obsession with Mary Cavendish, whom he describes in his most florid prose, but he momentarily drops his fondness for Mary on a dime, as soon as Cynthia strokes his ego. After Cynthia confides in Hastings in the woods, she says that he is "so kind" and that he "know[s] such a lot," and Hastings narrates, "It struck me at this moment that Cynthia was really a very charming girl! Much more charming than Mary, who never said things of that kind" (157). Of course, it is quite obvious that Hastings' evaluation of Cynthia is entirely predicated on her deference to his intellect. Moments later, he proposes to Cynthia, and his proposal is not only rejected but met with hearty laughter. Hastings is, by all accounts, a rather pathetic character, but his being pathetic and oblivious also makes him somewhat sympathetic; he feels more "real" for all of his flaws, and Christie's clearly conscious rendering of a pathetic man of England during the Great War is no doubt a novel, welcome departure from the self-serious narrators of many of her contemporaries' detective novels.
