Which Agatha Christie Novel Inspired The Anime 'Detective Conan'?

Alice Warren was the daughter of two famous murderers. Her fate, which was full of bad luck, finally met its end when the Le Blancs adopted her. The Le Blancs were good and kind people; they helped the poor, donated to charities, and built an organization for the orphans called UNITY. Alice was already contented with her life, but all of her beliefs and luck crumbled down when she entered Saint Clair Academy, and the series of accidents and deaths started again. Of course, it did not help that an irritating genius artist, Thomas Saint Clair, was always at her tail. Now that the number of dead bodies increased, Alice had to investigate whether the accidents were just lousy luck full of coincidence or carefully planned-out murders.

As the news broadcast reported a random serial killing near my residential complex, I knew—I had been reborn once again. In my first life, my husband insisted on going out in the middle of a snowstorm to buy weapons for self-defense. I locked every door and window, waiting at home, anxiety clawing at my chest. I never imagined the killer could pick locks. Before I could even react, a blade plunged into me, and I died on the couch. In my second life, I didn't hesitate. I hid in a concealed storage room, holding my breath. But the door was still pulled open. A man wearing a rabbit mask stared straight at me. "Found you," he said. In my third life, I ran to the police station. I rushed inside and told the officer on duty that the killings weren't random—that the murderer was coming for me. They looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Then my husband arrived in a hurry and took me away. But the moment we reached our front door, a heavy hammer smashed into the back of my head. Through the blinding pain, I forced my eyes open, but I never saw who killed me. Now, staring at the grave expression on the news anchor's face, agony surged through every inch of my body. Rebirth isn't a reset. The damage accumulates—and sooner or later, it will torture me to death. Without hesitation, I walked into the kitchen and set a pot of oil to heat. And I waited… for the moment the lock began to turn.

When Conan, a broken teen, develops feelings for his bestfriend, the crush blossoms into love, and everything appears to be going perfectly. Though the doubts are there, it can't get any better. He's debating whether or not to confess day by day, but something, or rather someone, shatters his ideal, fairy-tale life at the worst possible time. All of his happy memories begin to go away, and his world begins to darken. Will he crumble under the pressures of his life? He only has one thought: he wishes he was Heather.

"Noooooooooooooo!" With a loud shrieking voice. "Stopppp! Not again, not even here". Sobbing, trying to get a grip of what had happened, again. Her body vibrates violently, with her hands shaking and moving like they have a mind of their own. Her glowing eye is so noticeable even with the dark shades on. Her body violently jerked, spilling the hot pasta and orange juice all over the dining table and her denim shirt, while she tried her best to keep calm and behave as if everything was fine. A secret only her mum used to know about has grown wings and flown out, in the cafeteria!. "Hell no, I have to do something." She whispered to herself. But sadly, there was nothing to be done. The damage had been done already. Anxiously, she picked her backpack and brought out her journal, and placed it on the messed-up dining table. She could hear some of the students calling her a freak, and as usual, all looking at her in disgust. Her heart sinks every time that happens, knowing she's going to be the talk of the school, and she hated that. She hated all of it, and self-flagellation was as tempting as the garden of Eden. She just wished she could just disappear from the surface of the earth. Then suddenly, The bell rang, lunchtime was over. "Finally," She muttered, with a deep sigh. Yes, she is a PSYCHIC, and she's 16. She is a psychic who has another being in her. She had five friends, each with a secret to keep. they had to team up to solve the mysterious Homicide going on in their peaceful town, and in the process, they learnt each other secrets and the town's history. Will they be able to solve the mystery?

Murder Inquiry is a crime fiction, whose plot is about Edwin Wolfgang, a rich New York based banker, who gives out loans for which he accepts artworks as collateral, but kills his customers before they are able to pay back the loan. And a FBI agent attached to the New York field office, who's charged with the task of bringing Mr Wolfgang to book. The story is set in three cities, in three different continents, and is full of twists and turns from the killing of Wolfgang's last two victims, up to his eventual arrest.

In the late stages of her pregnancy, my wife slipped away into the mountains with her childhood sweetheart, seeking some reckless thrill under the open sky. Fate, however, had other plans. She suffered a massive hemorrhage, and the two were rushed to the hospital. As a doctor, I took one glance at her condition and instructed the nurse to prepare for the cremation. In my previous life, I had risked everything to save her. On that very operating table, she and the child inside her perished together. Her childhood sweetheart, overcome with grief and fury, rallied others to accuse me of seeking personal revenge. Their rage was relentless, and they broke my hands. "A butcher like you, without medical ethics, deserves nothing less than eternal damnation!" they shouted, their words burning like brands on my soul. Yet I distinctly remembered—the surgery had been a success. Her vital signs had stabilized. Clinging to hope, I begged my in-laws to conduct an autopsy, to uncover the truth buried beneath the accusations. Instead, they called the police, who swiftly charged me with performing surgery under the influence of alcohol. Stripped of my rights, I was thrown into prison, where suffering became my only companion. Years later, upon release, I stumbled across a sight that tore what was left of my heart to shreds—my wife, alive and well, behind the wheel of a luxury car, accompanied by her childhood sweetheart and their child, living off the fortune I had worked tirelessly to build. Their betrayal didn't end there. Coldly and methodically, they lured me into a trap, casting me into a cement mixer to erase every trace of my existence. When I next opened my eyes, time had rewound itself. I was back on that fateful day, the one when her hemorrhage began.