From seat No.9, Hercule Poirot was ideally placed to observe his
fellow air passengers. Over to his right sat a pretty young woman,
clearly infatuated with the man opposite; ahead, in seat No.13, sat
a Countess with a poorly-concealed cocaine habit; across the
gangway in seat No.8, a detective writer was being troubled by an
aggressive wasp. What Poirot did not yet realize was that behind
him, in seat No.2, sat the slumped, lifeless body of a woman.