Agatha Christie - Murder in Mesopotamia

Murder in
Mesopotamia

A Hercule Poirot Mystery

One

I n the hall of the Tigris Palace Hotel in Baghdad a hospital nurse was finishing a letter. Her fountain pen drove briskly over the paper.

... Well, dear, I think thats really all my news. I must say its been nice to see a bit of the worldthough England for me every time, thank you. The dirt and the mess in Baghdad you wouldnt believeand not romantic at all like youd think from the Arabian Nights! Of course, its pretty just on the river, but the town itself is just awfuland no proper shops at all. Major Kelsey took me through the bazaars, and of course theres no denying theyre quaint but just a lot of rubbish and hammering away at copper pans till they make your headacheand not what Id like to use myself unless I was sure about the cleaning. Youve got to be so careful of verdigris with copper pans.

Ill write and let you know if anything comes of the job that Dr. Reilly spoke about. He said this American gentleman was in Baghdad now and might come and see me this afternoon. Its for his wifeshe has fancies, so Dr. Reilly said. He didnt say any more than that, and of course, dear, one knows what that usually means (but I hope not actually D.T.s!). Of course, Dr. Reilly didnt say anythingbut he had a lookif you know what I mean. This Dr. Leidner is an archaeologist and is digging up a mound out in the desert somewhere for some American museum.

Well, dear, I will close now. I thought what you told me about little Stubbins was simply killing! Whatever did Matron say?

No more now.

Yours ever,

Amy Leatheran

Enclosing the letter in an envelope, she addressed it to Sister Curshaw, St. Christophers Hospital, London.

As she put the cap on her fountain pen, one of the native boys approached her.

A gentleman come to see you. Dr. Leidner.

Nurse Leatheran turned. She saw a man of middle height with slightly stooping shoulders, a brown beard and gentle, tired eyes.

Dr. Leidner saw a woman of thirty-five, of erect, confident bearing. He saw a good-humoured face with slightly prominent blue eyes and glossy brown hair. She looked, he thought, just what a hospital nurse for a nervous case ought to look. Cheerful, robust, shrewd and matter-of-fact.

Nurse Leatheran, he thought, would do.

Two

I dont pretend to be an author or to know anything about writing. Im doing this simply because Dr. Reilly asked me to, and somehow when Dr. Reilly asks you to do a thing you dont like to refuse.

Oh, but, doctor, I said, Im not literarynot literary at all.

Nonsense! he said. Treat it as case notes, if you like.

Well, of course, you can look at it that way.

Dr. Reilly went on. He said that an unvarnished plain account of the Tell Yarimjah business was badly needed.

If one of the interested parties writes it, it wont carry conviction. Theyll say its biased one way or another.

And of course that was true, too. I was in it all and yet an outsider, so to speak.

Why dont you write it yourself, doctor? I asked.

I wasnt on the spotyou were. Besides, he added with a sigh, my daughter wont let me.

The way he knuckles under to that chit of a girl of his is downright disgraceful. I had half a mind to say so, when I saw that his eyes were twinkling. That was the worst of Dr. Reilly. You never knew whether he was joking or not. He always said things in the same slow melancholy waybut half the time there was a twinkle underneath it.

Well, I said doubtfully, I suppose I could.

Of course you could.

Only I dont quite know how to set about it.

Theres a good precedent for that. Begin at the beginning, go on to the end and then leave off.

I dont even know quite where and what the beginning was, I said doubtfully.

Believe me, nurse, the difficulty of beginning will be nothing to the difficulty of knowing how to stop. At least thats the way it is with me when I have to make a speech. Someones got to catch hold of my coattails and pull me down by main force.

Oh, youre joking, doctor.

Its profoundly serious I am. Now what about it?

Another thing was worrying me. After hesitating a moment or two I said: You know, doctor, Im afraid I might tend to bewell, a little personal sometimes.

God bless my soul, woman, the more personal you are the better! This is a story of human beingsnot dummies! Be personal be prejudicedbe cattybe anything you please! Write the thing your own way. We can always prune out the bits that are libellous afterwards! You go ahead. Youre a sensible woman, and youll give a sensible commonsense account of the business.

So that was that, and I promised to do my best.

And here I am beginning, but as I said to the doctor, its difficult to know just where to start.

I suppose I ought to say a word or two about myself. Im thirty-two and my name is Amy Leatheran. I took my training at St. Christophers and after that did two years maternity. I did a certain amount of private work and I was for four years at Miss Bendixs Nursing Home in Devonshire Place. I came out to Iraq with a Mrs. Kelsey. Id attended her when her baby was born. She was coming out to Baghdad with her husband and had already got a childrens nurse booked who had been for some years with friends of hers out there. Their children were coming home and going to school, and the nurse had agreed to go to Mrs. Kelsey when they left. Mrs. Kelsey was delicate and nervous about the journey out with so young a child, so Major Kelsey arranged that I should come out with her and look after her and the baby. They would pay my passage home unless we found someone needing a nurse for the return journey.