Mr Shaitana did not answer. His head had fallen forward, and he seemed to be asleep. Race gave a momentary whimsical glance at Poirot and went a little nearer. Suddenly he uttered a muffled exclamation, bent forward. Poirot was beside him in a minute, he, too, looking where Colonel Race was pointing - something that might have been a particularly ornate shirt stud - but was not...
Pg 24, Cards on the Table (1936)
Her air of distress was so unlike her that Miss Marple said immediately: "My dear, is anything wrong?" Molly nodded. She hesitated and then said, "Well, you'll have to know - everyone will have to know. It's Major Palgrove. He's dead." "Dead?" "Yes, he died in the night."
Pg 23, A Caribbean Mystery (1964)
He looked down thoughtfully at the dead woman. Her bright red hair was cut short. She had a freckled face, with a chin which jutted out strongly, and a spare, athletic figure. She was wearing a tweed skirt and a heavy, dark pullover. She had brogues on her feet with no stockings.
Pg 72, Cat Among the Pigeons (1959)
Sheila Webb gave a half smile and walked round the end of the sofa. The she stopped short, pulling up with a jerk. Sprawled on the floor was the body of a man. His eyes were half open and sightless. There was a dark moist patch on the front of his dark grey suit. Almost mechanically Sheila bent down. She touched his cheek - cold - his hand, the same... touched the wet patch and drew her hand away sharply, staring at it in horror.
Pg 8, The Clocks (1963)
Poirot nodded. "Oh yes," he said. "She is dead. Though not very long dead." "But how..." He lifted the corner of the gay scarf bound round the girl's head, so that Mrs Oliver could see the ends of the clothes line.
Pg 68, Dead Man's Folly (1956)
Right at the end of the car, in Seat No. 2, Madame Giselle's head lolled forward a little. One might have taken her to be asleep. But she was not asleep. She neither spoke nor thought. Madame Giselle was dead...
Pg 18, Death in the Clouds (1935)
Linnet Doyle was lying on her side. Her attitude was natural and peaceful. But above the ear was a tiny hole with an incrustation of dried blood round it. Poirot shook his head sadly. Then his gaze fell on the white painted wall just in front of him and he drew in his breath sharply.
Pg 103, Death on the Nile (1937)