title: The Mysterious Affair at Styles: and The Mysterious Affair at Rugeley
author: Agatha Christie
description: AGATHA CHRISTIE: Little did Agatha Christieand the worldrealize in 1916 that when the author wrote The Mysterious Affair at Styles, her first detective novel, this perennially fresh and mystifying tale was the herald of an amazing career. It was also the first start for her most popular detective, Hercule Poirot, and with the inception of that first mystery story, a star was born. In fact, two stars would burst forth from this auspicious beginning: the little Belgian detective with the egg-shaped head, twinkling eyes, enormous mustacheand razor-sharp little grey cellsand his creator, the paradoxically shy and retiring Agatha Christie herself, who would also go on to acclaim as the world-famous Queen of Crime, the most beloved and best-selling author of modern times. From 1916 to sixty years later, until her death in 1976, Agatha Christie, a brilliant publishing phenomenon, produced hundreds of detective-crime stories which continue to enthrall and entertain millions the world over. From the publication of that first novel to this day, over a billion of Agatha Christies books have been soldand counting. *** ANNE POWERS, Editor The editor, a two-year college professor and academic librarian, continues to enjoy a near-lifelong love of golden age mystery and detective fiction and a more recent general interest in the classic true-crime lore of Britains Victorian, Edwardian, and between-the-wars eras. She has published both popular and research works, and resides in California.
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  ![And Then There Were None](cover.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **And Then There Were None**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  By Agatha Christie
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 1 In the corner of a first-class smoking carriage, Mr. Justice
  Wargrave, lately retired from the bench, puffed at a cigar and ran an
  interested eye through the political news in the Times. He laid the paper down
  and glanced out of the window. They were running now through Somerset. He
  glanced at his watch - another two hours to go. He went over in his mind all
  that had appeared in the papers about Indian Island. There had been its
  original purchase by an American millionaire who was crazy about yachting -
  and an account of the luxurious modern house he had built on this little
  island off the Devon coast. The unfortunate fact that the new third wife of
  the American millionaire was a bad sailor had led to the subsequent putting up
  of the house and island for sale. Various glowing advertisements of it had
  appeared in the papers. Then came the first bald 