Agatha Christie

She learned poisons in a dispensary. Then she made a profession of them. Sixty-odd novels, a disappearance the papers treated like a plot, archaeology with a husband who dug, and a play that would not close. Poirot. Marple. A stolid superintendent. A pair of bright young things who treat crime as a hobby. She could do the country house, the Nile, the village, the train. The trick was never the same twice, even when the furniture looked familiar.