Despite being an avid mystery reader, a huge Agatha Christie fan, and absolutely adoring her Belgian detective Hercule Poirot for years, I never read Murder on the Orient Express. I never picked it up because I had the who-done-it reveal spoiled, so I believed I already knew the ending and understood the book (THAT is the truly terrible thing about spoilers).
During my profligate binge watching of crime shows on Netflix I watched an adaptation of this book. Agatha Christie's Poirot: "Murder on the Orient Express" (2010) was fantastic. Starring David Suchet as Poirot, this interpretation of the novel makes use of Poirot's Catholic faith to judge the morality of the crime.
Setting the scene of the episode I watched (spoilers ahead- although I will try to do more justice than the one sentence spoiler that I was given):
Poirot is interrogating a lieutenant in a military setting. The man has been accused of murdering his mistress, and Poirot (while clearing him of that crime), exposes that he has lied about his whereabouts, committed adultery, and accuses him of bringing shame on himself, his rank, and his wife. The man shoots himself in front of the detective. Later, the lieutenant's friend tells Poirot that it is "unjust" the man has had to suffer for this "one" mistake and error in judgment (presumably the adultery and later lying to conceal the affair) as he was a "good man". Poirot questions the use of the word "unjust" and disputes the idea that the man "had no choice" but to commit suicide. "A man like your friend, lieutenant, always has a choice."
The main story starts when Poirot boards the Orient Express in Istanbul going to Calais. The coach is full and there are a number of unique travelers who hail from all over Europe and even America. Poirot is soon approached by a "wealthy American businessman", Mr. Ratchett, who asks the detective to protect him as he believes there are people on the train trying to kill him. He says that he needs to make "penance" before he can be forgiven, but is afraid he will be killed first. Mr. Ratchett comes off as a very seedy character when doing this, neglecting to give any details about why he would be killed and shoving a pile of money at Poirot. The detective refuses.
Later, both Ratchett and Poirot are shown praying in their respective train compartments, Poirot notably holding a rosary. Both ask to be forgiven for what they have done that day and pray for safety that night. The next morning Ratchett is found dead, stabbed 12 times.
During his excellent detective work, Hercule Poirot discovers that Ratchett is a fake name. The man who died was really Lanfranco Cassetti, who kidnapped a little girl in New York five years previously, even collecting a ransom from the grieving parents before murdering her. A tragedy of epic proportions, the girl's mother (pregnant with a younger sibling) went into preterm labor due to stress and died along with the baby. The girl's father and the girl's maid (who was accused of being involved in the crime) committed suicide. Cassetti was caught but used his mob connections to rig the trial and was exonerated. This man was responsible for multiple deaths.
One by one, it is revealed that the other passengers and some train staff have connections to the kidnapped girl or her family (servants to the household, old friends, relations, etc.) and any one could have committed the murder. They have colluded in planting false evidence to make it appear as if someone boarded the train, murdered Cassetti, and then hopped off, but in the end, Poirot deduces that they were all involved in the crime. They drugged Cassetti and each stabbed him in the night, taking justice into their own hands- 12 people for their own jury of 12.
The episode differs from the original book in this way: while he is himself disgusted at Cassetti and his horrific crime, Poirot insists on turning these people into the authorities because they have become "savages in the street". This dialogue follows:
She's about to claim that they were all "without sin" and justifiably casting stones at the murderer
Poirot: The rule of law, it must be held high! And if it falls, you pick it up and hold it even higher! For all society, all civilized people will have nothing to shelter them if it is destroyed!
Ohlsson [former nurse to murdered girl]: There is a higher justice than the rule of law, monsieur.
Poirot: Then you let God administer it, not you!
Ohlsson: And when he doesn't, when he creates a hell on earth for those wronged, when priests who are supposed to act in his name forgive what must never be forgiven?
Individually these murderers defend themselves, saying that they were (and ARE) good people who did what was "right". The mastermind of the plan, the dead girl's governess insists that God sanctioned this "execution", but you can see she is distraught and she has not been made whole by avenging these deaths. She says, "when you've been denied justice, you are incomplete. I asked God what to do and He said to do what is right. I thought if I did it would make me complete again..." We can see by her tears and trembling that she is not.
The episode ends with the police arriving. Poirot and the train company owner hand over the false evidence, effectively letting these 12 people walk free. David Suchet plays this moment spectacularly as he walks away, barely holding back tears of grief and anger.
And really, it is hard to judge these people. At no point in the episode (and from the research I've now done, the novel) is it implied that Cassetti is innocent. No, he is definitely a child kidnapper and murderer. When he talks about a "penance" he must do before he is forgiven, he refers to returning the ransom money he fled the country with. Cassetti has been blackmailed into returning the money, however, so we can hardly even look kindly upon him for that action. And as for the prayer he says before sleep, even that seems self-serving and not truly repentant.
See, he looks pretty slimy, right?
Is it possible then, to forgive the unforgivable?
It reminds me of Psalm 50 (51). David has done the unforgivable, committing adultery and (effectively) killing Uriah, the husband of his mistress Bathsheba so that he can marry her. She has conceived a child that is dying and he knows it is punishment for his sin.
"...Against Thee, Thee only have I sinned and done this evil in Thy sight, that Though mightest be justified in Thy words and prevail when Thou art judged..."
As someone who grew up reciting this psalm as a regular prayer, I hadn't analyzed it much. So it struck me when the verses above were pointed out by an agnostic friend of mine as troubling. Why has David sinned against God only? He's clearly sinned against Uriah by sending him to certain death in battle, sinned against Bathsheba by committing adultery with her and murdering her husband, and sinned against the child who is ill and lies dying as a punishment for his actions.
Another way to ask these: How can God forgive these sins when they are against individual people, not God? And subsequently, as Ms. Ohlsson asked Poirot, how can priests act in the name of God to forgive these sins?
After it is discovered that the murdered man is Lanfranco Cassetti, but before all the evidence is unravelled, Poirot has a long conversation with Ms. Ohlsson, mentioned above. She explains that she is a Protestant missionary who has found Jesus. She tells Poirot that the Catholic faith is false because the concept of "penance" allows priests to forgive the unforgivable. What she does not realize is that the "penance" is not for God's sake, but for ours.
God stands as judge over us all, over all our own unforgivable sins. Could we forgive the pain and injury someone else has caused us? As much as we choose to let go and seek to be made whole by some other means than vengeance, I believe we can. We can forgive the murderer for the hell on earth we have been made to go through and for repercussions we have suffered. Can we forgive the crime of murder, however? We can forgive what we ourselves have been subject to, but only God can forgive all of the wrongdoing, being the ultimate judge. God will administer that higher justice when we cannot, whether the justice is mercy or punishment. I can forgive the wrongful act done to me, but only God can forgive the act itself. The act itself is a crime, apart from who it hurts. It damages the person who commits it and truly it is an act against God and nature- it is an act against the "higher law".
Should one feel guilty for the murder of a murderer? Maybe not, but these characters do, and I recon that any "good person" would. The "penance" is not so that God will forgive, but so the good person can repent. Just as with confessing sins to a priest, an act of penitence allows the guilty party to be truly sorry and to know it. Why else would someone tell another person about their unforgivable acts and make reparations?
Some reparations are not chosen by the sinner, but by God. David understands his son will be killed as his punishment for his crime. When the child dies, he stops fasting and begins to eat again. The servants are puzzled and David tells them, “While the child was alive, I fasted and wept; for I said, ‘Who can tell whether the Lord will be gracious to me, that the child may live?’ But now he is dead; why should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me.” David has pleaded with God but is now accepting of the penance made.
In a way, Ohlsson was right- It was a just punishment for Cassetti to be killed. However, penance is not for God, it is for us. It is so that we can repent and be healed. Unfortunately, Cassetti appears to be taking the idea of penance very legalistically, acting as if returning the ransom money takes care of the matter. Cassetti understands his punishment is to be killed, but he fights against it, still hiring bodyguards and sleeping with a gun. He was not accepting of these reparations, and that is the difficulty of the situation. Cassetti, disgusting child murderer that he is, has been robbed of the opportunity to repent. Isn't that unforgivable?
As for being "good people", it's true. Like the lieutenant at the beginning of the episode, these murderers do seem to be good people. A murderer can be a good person? Yes, sinners are people first. We must think of it the other way around- not that someone who commits an unforgivable sin is no longer one of us, but that any one of us could easily commit an unforgivable sin.
I'm still trying to figure out why the end of the episode intrigues me so much. According to what I found googling (because I already admitted, I have not read the novel which I'm sure is very good), this internal struggle Poirot has that is depicted in the episode is not present in the novel. Poirot apparently declines to interfere and the train manager decides not to turn any of these people in.
If it were not for David Suchet's magnificent performance (this episode is really good, you really should watch it), one could easily accuse Poirot of chickening out of turning in the gang, or of condoning vigilante justice. It strikes me that Poirot is doing the very thing that these people could not do- he is leaving the judgment of the crime to God. The law failed the first time by failing to convict Cassetti of his brutal murder, and here the law fails again, the police easily accepting the planted evidence of a mystery assassin. The judgment of God, however is perfect. The story recounted at the link here about Fr. Paisios and God's Judgment illustrates this beautifully.
There is so much to be said about what is discussed in this episode- sin, forgiveness, penance, justice, "good people"... I could go on for much longer, but I'll wrap it up at this point. I hear there is a new adaptation directed by Kenneth Branagh coming out this year and starring a bunch of A-listers, so I'm really excited to see what they do with the story!
Now that I see the mustache I might be having second thoughts
