This is one of those bodies-stuffed-in-a-trunk stories, and there's always something horribly entertaining about those, especially when there's no way to see how it could possibly have happened. It's a little like a locked room mystery where there seems to be no opportunity for anyone to have done it. Naturally, there is an explanation and while it's very convoluted the villain clearly intends it to be convoluted, simply because no one in their right mind would suspect it. Enter Poirot, who is rather more twisty than most people in his thinking. I enjoyed it, anyway.