THERE’S the obligatory Agatha Christie smokescreen – or in this case, the vapour from piping hot black coffee – but only complete novices and newcomers to the genre could possibly be duped by such deceptions.

So when Lucia Amory (Olivia Mace) starts to manically swap the cups around there is no point whatsoever in thinking “A-ha, there’s the murderer, job solved, aren’t I clever?”

Anymore than there’s any reason to point the finger of suspicion in the direction of the oily smooth Italian doctor Carelli (Gary Mavers) just because he’s a damned foreigner and therefore must be guilty.

So once we’re been thoroughly confused and put off the scent, the time has come for the great man’s entrance on to the scene. Now, there’s no denying that we have all been spoiled to death – almost but not quite – by the great David Suchet’s interpretation of Hercule Poirot, yet Robert Powell certainly makes a fair Flemish fist of the diminutive Belgian detective.

He works the room – it’s always a room, nothing formulaic here, good heavens no – like a music hall master of ceremonies only with much deadlier intent, slowly unravelling the reasons why Sir Claud Amory (Ric Recate) has been poisoned by his post prandial latte.

Some documents with global implications have also gone missing and there’s obviously no point in leaving such serious matters in the hands of the local version of the Keystone Cops.

As per usual with any complicated crime yarn, I was completely at sea much of the time, so I must therefore take my metaphorical homburg hat off to my elder daughter who effortlessly picked up on clue after clue.

An avid collector of all-things Christie, the sole genius in the family must surely merit an appearance on Mastermind one of these fine days.

Meanwhile, Liza Goddard as Miss Caroline Amory provides plenty of what is at times almost comic relief from dastardly doings as she relentlessly and somewhat shamelessly ploughs the Important of Being Earnest furrow school of delivery for all its worth.

Black Coffee was the first thriller by the great writer to feature the dapper detective and also the 11th outing by The Agatha Christie Theatre Company.

And once again, director Joe Harmston’s hand on the tiller ensures this piece stays true to the original tale, paying homage to the mythical and probably non-existent time when murder was the sport of gentlemen, no one ever really got hurt, and there as definitely no blood whatsoever to be found on walls or carpet.

So if you like your lateral logic to have more twists and turns than a lane leading to a lonely country house, then this is most certainly your cup of… well, in this case perhaps that should read black coffee. It runs until Saturday, April 12.