The plot thickens

Imagine my ancient bishop's surprise when he caught sight of this book cover.
"Whodunnit?" he asked, as he gazed at the 1972 paperback edition of Agatha Christie's mystery story, The Big Four.
"Cover painting by Tom Adams," I read from the back cover.
(He must have used the Lewis Chessman as his model.)
"Well, bless my soul!" said the bishop.

Talking of books, thank you so much, peeps, for all your lovely comments on my yesterblip. It's so kind of you to share my delight.

It's now gone 8pm and I'm just back from driving halfway to Kingsbridge. I didn't go line-dancing. It's been raining all day. The road was like a river and as the relentless, torrential rain showed no sign of abating, I thought it best to turn back while I still could, and avoid the engine getting too wet and conking out! Took me nearly an hour to travel what would normally take half an hour. What a nightmare! I suppose high spring tides will have aggravated the depth and frequency of the verge-to verge-puddles, but the drains cannot cope at all. Made several wakes in my progress and, disappointed as I am to miss dancing, I'm relieved to be home. Spring equinox? Ha!