Status Updates From The Clocks

“It was in my mind that we might all three engage in conversation.”
I looked at him and laughed. He might call it conversation—but I knew who was going to do the talking. Hercule Poirot!

The orange cat was still sitting on the gatepost of Diana Lodge next door. He was no longer washing his face but was sitting up very straight, lashing his tail slightly, and gazing over the heads of the crowd with that complete disdain for the human race that is the special prerogative of cats and camels.

It's 3 am and I read the first 100 pages in one sitting, which happens very rarely.
The Clocks by Agatha Christie is simply amazing and catchy!