Poirot + The Book Thief Crossover

TV show character: Hercule Poirot (Agatha Christie’s Poirot)

Book character: Liesel Meminger (The Book Thief)

 And in the empty white room, there emerged two figures. One was significantly shorter than the other, though the shorter one was a lot more trim. They were both sitting on the ground, staring in front of them in disbelief. They were fixated in opposite sides of the blank room, a room with no windows and no doors – just a single candle illuminating the vicinity. The shorter figure stood up. She was a young girl, and she carried a single book in her frail hands. She walked over to the other figure, who was still seated in the same place. It was a man. She touched his shoulder and stumbled backwards a little. The man inclined his head towards the girl.

“Who are you?” The girl asked. Her voice was feeble, and she was quite shy.

“I am Hercule Poirot – the great detective.” The man spoke with a certain definition in his voice. He had a French accent, and above his two perfect lips, sat a perfectly combed moustache. “And who might you be, young girl?”

“Liesel Meminger.” The girl replied delicately.

“Well, Liesel, it is a pleasure to meet you. But may I ask, what are we doing here?” Poirot asked.

“I do not know, but you are a detective, are you not?” Liesel stood idly, glancing over at Poirot, observing his ways.

Poirot got himself up with the help of his wooden cane. Liesel sensed he was a bit old, like her Papa. She helped him up.

“Merci, Liesel.” He nodded his head courteously.

“Are you French? I am German.” Liesel was a curious girl, and wanted to know more about the man she had magically ended up in a room with.

“Non, non. I am Belgian. Poirot sees from the way you speak that you are German. What is that book you have with you?”

Liesel looked at the book in her hand.

“I am the Book Thief. This is a book I stole.”

“Why, you know, Poirot, he catches thieves.”

Liesel stepped back.

“Non, please, don’t be afraid. A young lady like you doesn’t deserve to be punished.”

Liesel smiled, but soon the smile was wiped off her face. “How will we get out of here?” There was a hint of panic in her voice. “I need to go back to my Mama and Papa. They will worry for me otherwise. Aw Rudy that Saukerl. I bet this is one of his tricks.”

“Ah, pardon?” Poirot asked politely. “Who is Rudy?”

Liesel sighed. “Sorry. Rudy, he is my friend. He’s always playing tricks on me. Do you know how we can get out?”

Poirot walked around the room, wall-to-wall, corner to corner. Liesel thought she’d better not disturb him in his time of intense thought. Detectives had to do what detectives had to do. And she was sure he would find a way out.