For thirteen years Mrs. Christie's admirers have been waiting for her to reproduce the superlative form of The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. Once or twice their hopes have been raised: The A.B.C. Murders very nearly came up to scratch, but the common run of Poirot's adventures has produced little more than a half-light from the little grey cells. Now at last the expected chef-d'oeuvre has appeared. Ten Little Niggers is as near a perfect crime puzzle as we are likely to see. It is short, sans Poirot, exciting, baffling, and scrupulously fair. To divulge any of the plot would be to take the edge off the reader's enjoyment. It should be enough to say that the book is Agatha Christie's masterpiece. (p. 878)
Rupert Hart-Davis, in The Spectator (© 1939 by The Spectator; reprinted by permission of The Spectator), December 15, 1939.
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