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At the grand estate of Nasse House in Devon, a summer fête was being planned by Mrs. Ariadne Oliver, a famous writer of detective stories. She had been invited by Sir George Stubbs and his young wife, Hattie, to organize a “Murder Hunt,” a kind of game where guests would follow clues to solve a staged murder. Though it seemed like harmless entertainment, Mrs. Oliver soon began to feel a strange unease about the whole event. Something in the air of Nasse House felt wrong to her, as if beneath the cheerful preparations, something dark was brewing. Following her instinct, she secretly called upon her old friend, the Belgian detective Hercule Poirot, to come and observe.
When Poirot arrived, Mrs. Oliver confided her suspicions. She couldn’t quite explain them, but she sensed that a real crime might be hidden behind the game. Poirot agreed to stay and watch the fête. The Stubbses were a curious couple — George, charming but somewhat evasive, and Hattie, a beautiful but simple-minded woman with a childlike innocence. Hattie seemed frightened by something, and Poirot noticed her husband’s subtle control over her. Hattie’s cousin, Etienne de Sousa, a dark and intense young man from South America, was also visiting. He was the only relative Hattie had, and there was tension between him and Sir George.
On the day before the fête, Poirot walked around the grounds with Mrs. Oliver. He met the architect, Michael Weyman, who was working on a boathouse restoration. Weyman complained about the folly — a small, useless building built by some earlier owner — calling it an example of wasteful extravagance. He mentioned how odd the placement of the boathouse was and how Sir George’s plans for improvement didn’t quite make sense to him. Poirot made mental notes, as he always did, paying attention to every detail. He also met Miss Brewis, Sir George’s efficient secretary, and Alec Legge, a scientist staying nearby with his wife, Sally. Alec seemed moody and discontented, while Sally was lively and flirtatious, bringing energy to the otherwise tense atmosphere.
The next morning, the fête began. The grounds were filled with laughter, music, and stalls. Children ran about with ice creams, while adults mingled in cheerful spirits. Mrs. Oliver’s “Murder Hunt” was the main attraction. The idea was that a young local girl, Marlene Tucker, would act as the “victim,” lying in the boathouse with fake clues planted around the estate for the players to find. Everything seemed to go perfectly — until the final clue led the players to the boathouse and a horrible discovery was made. Marlene Tucker was lying dead for real, strangled with a piece of cord.
The fête turned instantly into chaos. Mrs. Oliver was horrified. Sir George tried to take control, ordering everyone to stay calm, while Poirot quietly stepped in to assist the local police, led by Inspector Bland. What had started as a game had become a real murder. Poirot examined the boathouse. There were no signs of struggle beyond the strangulation marks on Marlene’s neck. The fake clues were still where they should be. It seemed that whoever had killed her had done so during the fête, perhaps slipping away unnoticed.
Soon after, a second shock struck the estate — Lady Hattie Stubbs had vanished. She had last been seen walking toward the house after greeting guests earlier in the day. No one had seen her since. Her handbag and sunhat were found in her room, but she was gone. Some speculated she had fled in panic after hearing about the murder. Others whispered that she might have been kidnapped. Poirot, however, was not convinced. He suspected the two incidents were linked.
As the investigation deepened, Poirot began to study the people around him. He questioned everyone who might have had access to the boathouse. Mrs. Folliat, the elderly lady who had owned Nasse House before the Stubbses, still lived on the estate in a smaller cottage. She spoke affectionately of the Stubbses and especially of Sir George, whom she regarded almost as a son. Poirot listened carefully to her reminiscences about the past, noting how she spoke of her two sons, both dead — one killed in the war, and the other, she believed, also lost years ago. Poirot’s mind began to stir with possibilities.
The police discovered that Marlene, the murdered girl, had been a gossip. She was known for collecting bits of information about everyone. Before her death, she had told a friend that she knew something important about someone in Nasse House and that she would make “a nice little bit of money” from it. This statement haunted Poirot. What could a village girl possibly know that was dangerous enough to get her killed?
Poirot reconstructed the timeline of the fête. Everyone had an alibi, or so it seemed. The murder must have taken place in a narrow window of time when most people were distracted by the events. Poirot paid special attention to the location of the folly — an ornamental building overlooking the river. He asked himself why the architect had called it “a dead man’s folly.” The name, he thought, might not be accidental. He began to suspect that something more sinister was hidden behind the façade of the estate itself.
Days passed, and Hattie Stubbs remained missing. Sir George appeared distraught but curiously composed. Poirot noticed that despite his supposed grief, he continued to give orders briskly and seemed to enjoy the role of the man in control. Poirot’s suspicion of Sir George grew quietly. He also recalled that Mrs. Folliat’s surviving son had gone abroad many years ago and that his fate had never been confirmed. Poirot began to wonder if that son could somehow still be alive — and if he might, in some way, be connected to the household now.
When the police found Hattie’s passport and belongings untouched, it became clear she had not left voluntarily. A body was later discovered downstream, but the face was unrecognizable. Sir George identified it as his wife’s by her clothing and jewelry. Everyone accepted it as Hattie’s corpse, and the inquest recorded her death as accidental drowning. But Poirot’s mind refused to rest. Too many details did not add up. He noticed that Hattie’s cousin, Etienne, who had loudly accused Sir George of foul play, had abruptly returned abroad, claiming disgust with the English police. Poirot felt there was still a secret waiting to surface.
He returned to Mrs. Folliat. The old lady seemed nervous when Poirot gently asked about her sons. One had died in the war — that much was true. But about the other, she faltered. Poirot pressed on, suggesting that the second son might have survived and returned under a false identity. Tears welled in her eyes. At last, she admitted that her younger son, James, had indeed come back after many years, ruined and disgraced. He had begged her for help, and she had hidden him — but he had insisted on taking another name to start a new life. That name, Poirot revealed softly, was Sir George Stubbs.
Poirot explained his reasoning. The real Sir George Stubbs never existed. The man known as Sir George was actually James Folliat, the old lady’s son, who had assumed the identity of a dead baronet with no close relatives. His mother had quietly helped him establish himself at Nasse House by pretending to sell it to him. He had married Hattie, a wealthy but naïve young woman, to secure his new social standing. When Hattie’s cousin began to grow suspicious, Sir George feared exposure. Marlene Tucker, the young girl, had learned part of the truth — perhaps from local gossip or from something she overheard about the estate’s history. To silence her, Sir George used the “Murder Hunt” as a perfect cover. He killed Marlene during the fête, knowing her body would not be discovered until it was too late for anyone to stop him.
But there was still Hattie’s disappearance to explain. Poirot revealed that the body found downstream was not Hattie’s. Sir George had killed her before the fête, probably that very morning, and hidden her body in the folly — the “dead man’s folly” that now lived up to its name. He had then arranged for a mentally deficient woman resembling Hattie to be dressed in her clothes and later killed, so that the drowned body could be mistaken for hers. It was an elaborate deception designed to free him from both his wife and suspicion. He intended to continue his new life as the respectable Sir George, free of any threat.
Poirot’s quiet explanation broke Mrs. Folliat’s heart. She had thought she was helping her son redeem himself, not abet murder. When the police uncovered Hattie’s real body hidden inside the folly, the truth was undeniable. Sir George, cornered by the evidence and Poirot’s calm deductions, fled the estate. He was later found dead, having taken his own life. The final act of his folly had been to destroy himself.
After the tragedy, Mrs. Folliat remained at Nasse House, a broken woman. Poirot, though triumphant in uncovering the truth, felt no joy. He saw in the case a study of deception born of pride, shame, and desperation. Mrs. Oliver, deeply shaken, told Poirot she would never again design a “Murder Hunt.” The fête had begun in laughter but ended in death, and the folly by the river stood as a grim reminder of the deadly game that had unmasked the truth.