Murder in Mesopotamia: A Hercule Poirot Mystery: The Official Authorized Edition
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About this ebook
Suspicious events at a Middle Eastern archaeological excavation site intrigue the great Hercule Poirot as he investigates Murder in Mesopotamia, a classic murder mystery from Agatha Christie.
Amy Leatheram has never felt the lure of the mysterious East, but when she travels to an ancient site deep in the Iraqi desert to nurse the wife of a celebrated archaeologist, events prove stranger than she could ever have imagined. Her patient's bizarre visions and nervous terror seem unfounded, but as the oppressive tension in the air thickens, events come to a terrible climax--in murder.
With one spot of blood as his only clue, Hercule Poirot must embark on a journey not just across the desert, but into the darkest crevices of the human soul to unravel a mystery which taxes even his remarkable powers.
Agatha Christie
Agatha Christie is known throughout the world as the Queen of Crime. Her books have sold over a billion copies in English with another billion in over 70 foreign languages. She is the most widely published author of all time and in any language, outsold only by the Bible and Shakespeare. She is the author of 80 crime novels and short story collections, 20 plays, and six novels written under the name of Mary Westmacott.
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Reviews for Murder in Mesopotamia
866 ratings31 reviews
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5In Murder in Mesopotamia, Christie takes us again to a location she's very familiar with - an archaeological dig near Hassanieh, Iraq.
To go into the details of this Poirot story would spoil the read for some so I won't.
However, there is one question I have that has driven me nuts every single time I have read or re-read this book:
How did she not know?!?!? - Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I love the archeological detail in this one - based on Christie's own experiences on digs with her second husband. The first victim is another interesting woman and is based on someone Christie met on a dig. The plot twists and turns in Christie's usual style, but is very plausible.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Amazing. Once again, Agatha proves to me that she's the best!
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5My wife's favorite Christie ever. I liked it; the narrator seems like a stereotype that I'm not really familiar with; I think she's supposed to come across as rather unintelligent as well as commanding and no-nonsense, a certain sort of nurse character that pops up a lot in English mysteries with only a few lines.Not quite a puzzle in the traditional Christie sense - not that you really ever have much chance of solving them - but Poirot takes pains to point out that his entire reconstruction of the crime is based on personality rather than direct evidence. I was pretty taken in though, and didn't really have an inkling of the murderer's identity until the denouement. I never really got a feel for the personality of the victim that seemed to be all-important to the case - maybe we Midwesterners don't have enough experience with that sort of person. But an excellent mystery, and one of Dame Agatha's finest IMO.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5As good a Poirot-mystery as ever. I found a cast of over 10 characters in a 300 page book a little overwhelming however. The setting in early 20th century Mesopotamia was nicely done. I almost discovered the murderer this time! :-)
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Wonderful, as usual… Agatha Christie never disappoints, especially with a Poirot. I loved that this novel was narrated by someone else (a nurse on the dig) and thought that gave a fun & often amusing perspective on Poirot and the people around him.A fun, comfortable read.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This was my first Agatha Christie book, and now I'm hooked! An inevitable murder that kept me guessing right till the end.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5Meh-sopotamia is right.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Having only read a few of Agatha Christie's works I appreciate that she tried something new, writing the book as one of the characters in the story. Nurse Leatheran is called to a dig in Iraq to care for the wife of the head archaeologist. Mrs Leidner is afraid she will be murdered and eventually she is. Poirot happens to be in the Middle East and is brought on to the case. After a few days he's gotten everyone in the dig crew to spill their secrets and of course solve the case.I did enjoy the last few passages that wrap-up what happened to everyone in the crew. Poirot is said to have be traveling home via the Orient Express and had to solve another case. I thought it was nice tie-in to one of Christie's more famous novels.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5There is always room for second chances in life. Case in point: Murder in Mesopotamia. The first time I read Agatha Christie's 1936 novel about murder and mayhem on an archeological dig in Iraq, I dismissed it as one of her lesser efforts. The murder scene (despite a typical Christie floor plan) was hard to figure out, the characters were stiff and dusty as mummified corpses, and the narrator-—nurse Amy Leatheran-—was a babbling idiot. That was four years ago. Time wounds all heels, I guess; and now, after a second reading, I realize I was unjustly unkind to the book. Oh, it's still not perfect—-Christie's descriptions of the archeology compound can be quite tedious, and most of the bland characters blend into one another-—but I found myself drawn in deeper this time around. I'll admit, my heart was even pounding with anticipation in the pages leading up to Hercule Poirot's Big Reveal in the next-to-last chapter. It appears I really did forget whodunit. I may have brain-blurred most of the book's details in the four-year interim between readings, but one thing I most certainly did not forget was the way in which the killer actually carried out the murder. Of course, I'm bound by personal oath not to reveal "how" or "who," but suffice to say Christie really cooked up an ingenious demise this time. There's no doubt this was a book written from her heart. Christie had a long-standing love affair with the Middle East, specifically Iraq and the digs near Ur and Nineveh. It was in Iraq in 1930 when she met and consequently fell in love with the man who would become her second husband, archeologist Max Mallowan. Christie's travels and impressions of the excavations and nearby cities invariably made their way onto the pages of her novels, but you can get an even better flavor of the area from her autobiography. Here, for instance, is a brief portrait she paints in that memoir: I fell in love with Ur, with its beauty in the evenings, the ziggurat standing up, faintly shadowed, and that wide sea of sand with its lovely pale colours of apricot, rose, blue and mauve, changing every minute. I enjoyed the workmen, the foremen, the little basket boys, the pick men—-the whole technique and life. The lure of the past came up to grab me. And here is what Amy Leatheran records in the pages of Murder in Mesopotamia: It took us about four hours to get to Hassanieh, which, to my surprise, was quite a big place. Very pretty it looked, too, before we got there from the other side of the river—-standing up quite white and fairy-like with minarets. If her description is not quite as effusive as Christie's, that's because 32-year-old Amy Leatheran is, for the most part, a woman who holds her emotions in check, only letting herself speak freely when someone questions her credibility. She's a reluctant narrator, having been urged to write the manuscript by Dr. Reilly, a friend who tells her the world needs "an unvarnished plain account of the Tell Yarimjah business." That "business" forms the basis for Murder in Mesopotamia and Nurse Leatheran, despite her initial qualms, is soon off and running as she relates how she was hired by archeologist Dr. Eric Leidner to look after his wife who has "fits of recurring nervous terrors." Louise Leidner has been receiving ominous, anonymous letters which threaten to dredge up a chapter from her past she'd rather forget. Then, too, she's been hearing things outside her room at night, and there have been ghastly faces appearing at the window. Her nervous fits have the whole household on edge out at the dig site and Dr. Leidner hopes that Nurse Leatheran can help restore a sense of peace and calm so the archeological work can continue without incident. Unfortunately, soon after Nurse Leatheran arrives, there is an incident-—a deadly, gory incident—-and poor Louise is found crumpled and lifeless on her bedroom floor. There's a spot of blood where her head's been bashed in, but no apparent murder weapon; and nearly everyone on the expedition seems to have a solid alibi. Ah, but those alibis will soon shimmer and dissolve like a desert mirage once the esteemed Hercule Poirot comes on the scene. He is, conveniently, traveling through the area ("just in the neighborhood," as they say) and he agrees to visit the Hassanieh murder scene to determine not just how Mrs. Leidner was killed, but more importantly, why. At the end of the novel, Poirot declares: "The pattern of this case, to my mind, all revolved round the personality of Mrs. Leidner. Until I knew exactly what kind of a woman Mrs. Leidner was I should not be able to know why she was murdered and who murdered her. That, then, was my starting point-—the personality of Mrs. Leidner." Poirot takes on Nurse Leatheran as his ad hoc Watson—-a rather transparent plot device on Christie's part, since this allows the reader more mobility throughout the investigation. With her assistance, Poirot questions the rest of the archeological dig's entourage about who Louise Leidner really was. One character says, "She was a clever woman and she was bored and she experimented—-with people—-like other people experiment with chemicals." Another admits to Poirot, "Well, of course, she was temperamental. A lot of ups and downs. Nice to people one day and perhaps wouldn't speak to them the next. She was very kind, I think. And very thoughtful for others. All the same you could see she had been spoilt all her life." Nurse Leatheran, on the other hand, is quite taken with Mrs. Leidner from their first meeting: "Her eyes....were lovely. They were the only eyes I've ever come across that you might truly describe as violet. They were very large, and there were faint shadows underneath them. She was very thin and fragile-looking, and if I say that she had an air of intense weariness and was at the same time very much alive, it sounds like nonsense—-but that's the feeling I got. I felt, too, that she was a lady through and through. And that means something—-even nowadays." Amy Leatheran proves to be an enjoyable Watson (I can't fathom what I didn't like about her the first time I read Murder in Mesopotamia) and thoroughly plunges into the role of playing second fiddle to Poirot. At one point, she asks Poirot if he's going to tell one of the suspects that he's caught her in a lie, but the detective turns to the nurse with a twinkle in his eye and says, "Always it is unwise to parade one's knowledge. Until the last minute I keep everything here." He tapped his forehead. "At the right moment-—I make the spring—-like the panther—-and, mon Dieu! the consternation!" As always, the Big Reveal erupts in a cacophony of consternation and emotions. By now, anyone who has read more than two of Christie's mysteries will recognize the precise symphony her detectives conduct in the closing pages: a slow and patient unfolding of the case facts, punctuated by several sharp jabs of hypothetical accusations, followed by much huffing and puffing from the much-maligned suspects ("Lies! It's all damned lies, I tell you!")....and then slowly and cleverly the detective slips the noose over the real murderer's neck and pulls the rope tight against the throat. None of which we readers have seen coming. At least, I didn't. Not even the second time around.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Not one of my personal favorites among the cases of Hercule Poirot, but still quite engaging. Told from the perspective of Amy Leatheran, a nurse hired by a Dr. Eric Leidner to take care of his wife Louise at an archaeolgical excavation out in the deserts of Iraq. The nurse arrives to find that there is a somewhat strained attitude among the members of the expedition, and most of that has to do with Mrs. Leidner. However, Mrs. Leidner is murdered, and it is established that the murderer could only have come from among the group. Enter Mr. Poirot, whose work is cut out for him when it seems that each and every member of the expedition has a motive for Mrs. Leidner's death. As I said, not one of my particular favorites, but it was still fun to see Poirot unraveling a rather twisted plot. The ending is a bit of a surprise, so it's well worth the ride. Recommended for those who are fans of Hercule Poirot, or of Agatha Christie, or for readers of British mysteries in general.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Pages 171-3 of "Where God Was Born," by Bruce Feiler lead me to this book. He wrote about the 1928 trip of Agatha Christie to Iraq. There she visited the archaeology dig of Sir C.L. Woolley. At the site Ms. Christie met her 2nd husband as well as Katherine, the wife of C.L. Woolley. The two women didn't hit it off and after the marriage Ms. Christie was banned from the site by Katherine who said, "There is room for only one woman at Ur." Agatha Christie got her revenge when she wrote this murder mystery and modeled the victim after Katherine Woolley. It's always fun when one book leads to another.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5Warning: major spoilers follow.This story never really worked for me. As usual for a Christie, a lot of the story is tied up in the conclusion, and I suspected the villain from the start. Real-life police work tells us that the husband is one of the first suspects, and you can always dig up a motive for the husband...and once you get under all the fancy back-story that Christie stacks on, this case comes down to jealousy, one of the most common motives for spousal murder. Given that he had a motive, and no one else did, he was pretty obvious. On the other hand, and perhaps this says more about my reading style of classic mysteries, and partially my mood at the time, the fact that he had an ironclad alibi didn't mean much; Poirot has a habit of explaining away even the most ironclad of alibis, in a way I can never predict. The other characters weren't interesting and never provided good red herrings, which left me with the murderer in my sights the whole book. The world around them wasn't terribly interesting, so the book didn't work for me on any level.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Poirot, on his way home to England after solving the Murder on the Orient Express, is drawn into a curious case in Iraq. The wife of an American archaeologist has been murdered after months of receiving threatening letters purporting to have come from her first husband, who was executed as a spy. Or was he? The story is told in the voice of a young English nurse who was brought to the dig as a companion for the now-murdered wife. It's amusing to read her views of Poirot change from "eww, weirdo" to "ooh, smarty-pants", and she's enough of an outsider to the suspects (having begun working for the wife a week or so earlier) to be an effective stand-in for the reader. The final solution isn't one of Dame Agatha's super-twisty ones, but I'm sure she needed a mental break after pulling Orient Express out of her skull just one book earlier.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5
Nurse is called upon to write the murderous history of the archeological dig in Mesopotamia where the people are not whom they seem to be and the Leader of the dig's wife is murdered......
Archaeologist, Dr Lieder (who is devoted to his wife), has hired Nurse , to care for Mrs Leider, who has bouts of nervous terrors. Mrs Leider is not well liked as she does her best to dig at people causing them to hate her.......
Everyone has secrets & jealousies....... However, it is Mrs. Leider with a well hidden past marriage and written death threats from her (assumed) dead husband who is being tormented the most and seems to have the most to hide.
When Mrs Leider is found dead in her room, with no one around to have "done it" and no witnesses, the fantastique Msr. Hercules Poirot (who just happens to be passing through) is called upon to help solve the murder.....
Soon, another murder takes place..... one that silences the one who knows too much. As Monsieur Poirot points out, everyone (including Nurse) is suspect and has reason to want Mrs Lieder dead......
The clues were actually there this time, I just couldn't put them all together......
Once again Dame Agatha had to get a racial slur in at the beginning of the book.... Honestly, I just can't see her reasoning by pointing out her own bigotry; as it isn't entertaining, pertinent to her story/plot, or enjoyable reading. - Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Een klassieker, gelezen toen ik een jaar of 17 was, maar ik ben nooit een grote fan van het genre geworden.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5An archaeological dig in Iraq provides the setting for this "locked room" mystery. The circumstances are baffling to the local authorities, so when they learn that Hercule Poirot is vacationing in the vicinity they're more than happy to ask for his assistance in solving the murder. Since Poirot is traveling alone, the role of "sidekick" is filled by Amy Leatheran, the victim's nurse. Nurse Leatheran is also the first-person narrator, writing her account of the events a few years after the fact. (The events take place about a week prior to Poirot's trip on the Orient Express.) It was fun to read her first impressions of Poirot, and to see how her opinion of him changed as the investigation progressed. I also enjoyed the references to popular literature of the era. For instance, one character was described as having stepped out of the pages of a Wodehouse novel. This is classic Christie. Recommended to all fans of the Golden Age of detective fiction.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Louise Leidner--"Lovely Louise," as she is known to the ex-pat communnity in Iraq--is a compelling woman. She is beautiful, intelligent, and confident--but she's also a quivering bundle of nerves. She hears tapping on her window, sees ghostly faces hovering outside, and receives threatening letters which may or may not be written by her supposedly dead former husband. Nurse Amy Leatheran--sensible, experienced, kind but tough, has been hired to be her companion, and acts as our narrator as well.It's really no surprise when Louise is murdered early one afternoon. After all, this charismatic woman has been adored and reviled in equal measure--often by the same person!--by everyone on her husband's archaeological dig. All have a motive, all have the opportunity...and most have an alibi. What's the local constabulary to do but call in Hercule Poirot, passing through on his way to Baghdad. Poirot, always up for an intriguing case, enlists Nurse as his assistant (scrub nurse to his surgeon, as she thinks of it), and together they suss out the facts. And the facts, of course, lead to a most surprising conclusion.Thoroughly satisfying, Murder in Mesopotamia is charming, clever, and funny. A must read, particularly as M. Poirot, after his visit to Baghdad, is heading off on the Orient Express, where he will surely find himself embroiled in another baffling crime.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5These Christie mysteries are really neat. This one is a little too happenstance, having Poirot just happen to be passing through the town on his way to Baghdad, but hey-its fiction, right?
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A cleverly written story which left me guessing until the inevitable moment when Poirot unmasked the murderer. Rather racist in places, perhaps indicative of what Brits were like in the 1930s. Fast-moving and exciting - great light reading.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Nurse Amy Leatheran is at the Tigris Palace Hotel, about to return to London, when she is recommended by friend Dr Reilly to Dr Leidner who is heading an archaeological dig in Iraq. Leidner's wife is in need of a companion/nurse although the archaeologist is a bit reticent in his interview with Nurse Leatheran about what is actually wrong with his wife. Nurse Leatheran joins the party at the dig and learns that Mrs Leidner has been receiving threatening letters. Nurse Leatheran finds the whole atmosphere at the dig is quite uncomfortable and then, rather predictably, Mrs Leidner is murdered. It becomes obvious that the murderer has to be one of the party, but who? There are plenty of suspects.The investigating officer Captain Maitland learns that the famous Belgian detective Hercule Poirot will be travelling through Baghdad from Syria. Poirot is persuaded to assist in the investigation. He treats Nurse Leatheran as his confidante, and she becomes his "Hastings". It is her account of the investigation that we read.I really read this too close to watching the latest TV production with David Suchet as Poirot. (see the Youtube video embedded below)If you watched that television production, you will remember that Poirot visits the dig quite early in the story because his friend Captain Arthur Hastings is there. There is a "memorable" scene at dinner where Hastings makes an absolute mess of explaining the meaning of the word Mesopotamia.Well, it may not surprise you to find that Hastings is not actually in the original book.In actual fact in the book Poirot does not arrive until well over half way through the story. Mrs Leidner is already dead.I think that in MURDER IN MESOPOTAMIA Agatha Christie toyed with the concept of the unreliable narrator. You will remember that she had already done this previously in THE MURDER OF ROGER ACKROYD.Nurse Leatheran prides herself as being an excellent judge of character, she says nurses generally are, and so there are times when we need to take her conclusions with a pinch of salt. In fact Poirot does come to recognise that because Nurse Leatheran is so observant she may also be in real danger from the murderer.Several aspects of the way that Poirot works are highlighted for us: the way he encourages people to "gossip" with him; the way he whittles down the list of suspects; his romantic streak; his liking for young women.After I learnt that the novel had originally been published in serial form, I looked for signs of fragmentation, perhaps discontinuity from one part to another, but I didn't find any.It is quite a detailed novel, showing how much Christie undestands about life on an archaeological dig, and a number of side stories run simultaneously with the main murder mystery.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Murder in Mesopotamia by Agatha Christie - very good
A nice quirk to this particular book is that it's written from the Nurse's perspective rather than Poirot. She is engaged to attend to the wife of an Archeaologist digging in Iraq whose nerves are 'bad'. She thinks her first husband has come back from the dead and will murder her. Of course, everyone thinks she is delusional until she is found dead in her room.....and no one could have entered and committed the crime without being seen!
It just so happens that Poirot will be passing on his way to Baghdad and he is persuaded to call in and investigate.
Of course, if you've seen the TV adaptation, you know what happens, but the nice thing about actually reading the book is that it isn't exactly the same and the way the nurse's attitudes to the people and to Poirot change as the book progresses is nicely played.
As always, reading Agatha Christie, you are reminded why she is still the 'Queen of Crime Writers'. Beautifully done. - Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Nice Poirot, Christie's experience with archaeological digs makes a nice background to an otherwise fairly mundane murder tale.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5On an archaeological dig, nurse Amy Leatheran encounters murder – and a peculiar Belgian detective.
"Murder in Mesopotamia" is the kind of book that you don’t forget – for both good and bad reasons.
This was one of the first Poirot novels I read, and the one that cemented my love for the detective. It’s all in the setting: Christie had a personal passion for archaeology and for the Middle East, which really came alive in the 1930s as she travelled with her husband, Sir Max Mallowan. Her other examples – "Appointment with Death" and "Death on the Nile" - resound with similar strengths: a powerful sense of atmosphere and a truly vibrant cast of characters, each of whom comes across with believable motives which are only enhanced by the alien setting. Poirot is joyfully out of place in Mesopotamia, and his pairing with Amy Leatheran is lovely. (The strong David Suchet adaptation effectively replaced Amy with Captain Hastings, probably as an apology to poor Hugh Fraser, whose character had to be written out in accordance with the later novels.) Amy functions as a surrogate-Hastings here, but is also interesting on her own accord.
I’d love to give this novel more stars but – without spoiling anything – the solution to the murder is far too complex and contrived to satisfy even the laziest reader. It’s just a real letdown.
[Incidentally, the implication appears to be that, following the events of this novel, Poirot takes his famed ride on the Orient Express...]
Poirot ranking: 25th out of 38 - Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5This is my least favourite Christie novel so far, due for the most part to the narrator whom I just couldn't warm up to. Her borderline racist comments about Poirot didn't help but really her whole personality was puzzling to me. It was interesting to explore another setting though the mystery isn't the most inspired.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5This book was cited in Where God Was Born (Bruce Feilor) and the victim is patterned after the wife of an archeologist for whom Christie’s 2nd husband worked, which added to the interest in the story. Christie met her husband when she visited the dig one summmer (he followed her back to England and wooed her). After they were married the wife would not allow her to be invited again. The victim was the most interesting thing about the book—Christie got her revenge!
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5
Don’t listen to the audiobook. Read the book!
It has all the fun twists & turns a reader can expect from Christie.
The narrator can only do one accent which is nasal & high pitched. I couldn’t stand it. The “young” nurse Amy recounting the story sounds more like Miss Marple’s age. It’s very annoying and disassociating. Especially when Poirot arrives in the story. There was not even a sliver of him sounding like a man, let alone a Belgian accent. Sadly I couldn’t find another edition with a decent narrator. So, I gave up listening and switched to the book. - Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I really enjoyed this story, which is told from the perspective of a secondary character. However, this version of the e book has lots of annoying typos that really detract. For example, the nam of the victim is often Mrs. Lei-Lei instead of Mrs. Leidner.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5At the recommendation of a British doctor working in Iraq, nurse Amy Leatheran joins the expedition of Swedish-American archaeologist Dr Leidner in order to care for his wife, who has 'fancies: Mrs Leidner fears that a person from her past will catch up with her and kill her. As soon as arrives at the expedition house in Hassanieh, she notices how strained the atmosphere among the members of the household is. Shortly after, Mrs Leidner's worst fears appear to come true as her husband finds her dead body – but it would have been almost impossible for a stranger to have come into the house ... Fortunately Hercule Poirot is passing through and agrees to take on the case. Will he be able to find out the truth?In this novel Amy Leatheran gives a detailed account of the events in which she played a minor role after several years have passed, which always makes an interesting departure from the usual third-person narrative. Shame that she and several other characters are just very unlikeable because the mystery is actually quite intriguing, even if the final solution is annoyingly overblown and even more far-fetched than usual. I enjoyed the depictions of the archaeological dig and the surroundings, which add a different kind of local colour to the usually home-grown locations, even if the descriptions of the native workers and servants still very often smacked of British superiority.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5One of the most preposterous Christie plots, with Poirot exceedingly pompous and long-winded, as ever.
Book preview
Murder in Mesopotamia - Agatha Christie
One
FRONTISPIECE
In 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 that’s really all my news. I must say it’s been nice to see a bit of the world—though England for me every time, thank you. The dirt and the mess in Baghdad you wouldn’t believe—and not romantic at all like you’d think from the Arabian Nights! Of course, it’s pretty just on the river, but the town itself is just awful—and no proper shops at all. Major Kelsey took me through the bazaars, and of course there’s no denying they’re quaint—but just a lot of rubbish and hammering away at copper pans till they make your headache—and not what I’d like to use myself unless I was sure about the cleaning. You’ve got to be so careful of verdigris with copper pans.
I’ll 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. It’s for his wife—she has fancies,
so Dr. Reilly said. He didn’t 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 didn’t say anything—but he had a look—if 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. Christopher’s 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
INTRODUCING AMY LEATHERAN
I don’t pretend to be an author or to know anything about writing. I’m doing this simply because Dr. Reilly asked me to, and somehow when Dr. Reilly asks you to do a thing you don’t like to refuse.
Oh, but, doctor,
I said, I’m not literary—not 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 won’t carry conviction. They’ll say it’s 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 don’t you write it yourself, doctor?
I asked.
I wasn’t on the spot—you were. Besides,
he added with a sigh, my daughter won’t 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 way—but half the time there was a twinkle underneath it.
Well,
I said doubtfully, "I suppose I could."
Of course you could.
Only I don’t quite know how to set about it.
There’s a good precedent for that. Begin at the beginning, go on to the end and then leave off.
I don’t 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 that’s the way it is with me when I have to make a speech. Someone’s got to catch hold of my coattails and pull me down by main force.
Oh, you’re joking, doctor.
It’s profoundly serious I am. Now what about it?
Another thing was worrying me. After hesitating a moment or two I said: "You know, doctor, I’m afraid I might tend to be—well, a little personal sometimes."
God bless my soul, woman, the more personal you are the better! This is a story of human beings—not dummies! Be personal—be prejudiced—be catty—be anything you please! Write the thing your own way. We can always prune out the bits that are libellous afterwards! You go ahead. You’re a sensible woman, and you’ll 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, it’s difficult to know just where to start.
I suppose I ought to say a word or two about myself. I’m thirty-two and my name is Amy Leatheran. I took my training at St. Christopher’s and after that did two years maternity. I did a certain amount of private work and I was for four years at Miss Bendix’s Nursing Home in Devonshire Place. I came out to Iraq with a Mrs. Kelsey. I’d attended her when her baby was born. She was coming out to Baghdad with her husband and had already got a children’s 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.
Well, there is no need to describe the Kelseys—the baby was a little love and Mrs. Kelsey quite nice, though rather the fretting kind. I enjoyed the voyage very much. I’d never been a long trip on the sea before.
Dr. Reilly was on board the boat. He was a black-haired, long-faced man who said all sorts of funny things in a low, sad voice. I think he enjoyed pulling my leg and used to make the most extraordinary statements to see if I would swallow them. He was the civil surgeon at a place called Hassanieh—a day and a half ’s journey from Baghdad.
I had been about a week in Baghdad when I ran across him and he asked when I was leaving the Kelseys. I said that it was funny his asking that because as a matter of fact the Wrights (the other people I mentioned) were going home earlier than they had meant to and their nurse was free to come straightaway.
He said that he had heard about the Wrights and that that was why he had asked me.
As a matter of fact, nurse, I’ve got a possible job for you.
A case?
He screwed his face up as though considering.
You could hardly call it a case. It’s just a lady who has—shall we say—fancies?
Oh!
I said.
(One usually knows what that means—drink or drugs!)
Dr. Reilly didn’t explain further. He was very discreet. Yes,
he said. A Mrs. Leidner. Husband’s an American—an American Swede to be exact. He’s the head of a large American dig.
And he explained how this expedition was excavating the site of a big Assyrian city something like Nineveh. The expedition house was not actually very far from Hassanieh, but it was a lonely spot and Dr. Leidner had been worried for some time about his wife’s health.
He’s not been very explicit about it, but it seems she has these fits of recurring nervous terrors.
Is she left alone all day amongst natives?
I asked.
Oh, no, there’s quite a crowd—seven or eight. I don’t fancy she’s ever been alone in the house. But there seems to be no doubt that she’s worked herself up into a queer state. Leidner has any amount of work on his shoulders, but he’s crazy about his wife and it worries him to know she’s in this state. He felt he’d be happier if he knew that some responsible person with expert knowledge was keeping an eye on her.
And what does Mrs. Leidner herself think about it?
Dr. Reilly answered gravely:
Mrs. Leidner is a very lovely lady. She’s seldom of the same mind about anything two days on end. But on the whole she favours the idea.
He added, She’s an odd woman. A mass of affection and, I should fancy, a champion liar—but Leidner seems honestly to believe that she is scared out of her life by something or other.
What did she herself say to you, doctor?
Oh, she hasn’t consulted me! She doesn’t like me anyway—for several reasons. It was Leidner who came to me and propounded this plan. Well, nurse, what do you think of the idea? You’d see something of the country before you go home—they’ll be digging for another two months. And excavation is quite interesting work.
After a moment’s hesitation while I turned the matter over in my mind: Well,
I said, I really think I might try it.
Splendid,
said Dr. Reilly, rising. Leidner’s in Baghdad now. I’ll tell him to come round and see if he can fix things up with you.
Dr. Leidner came to the hotel that afternoon. He was a middle-aged man with a rather nervous, hesitating manner. There was something gentle and kindly and rather helpless about him.
He sounded very devoted to his wife, but he was very vague about what was the matter with her.
You see,
he said, tugging at his beard in a rather perplexed manner that I later came to know to be characteristic of him, my wife is really in a very nervous state. I—I’m quite worried about her.
She is in good physical health?
I asked.
Yes—oh, yes, I think so. No, I should not think there was anything the matter with her physically. But she—well—imagines things, you know.
What kind of things?
I asked.
But he shied off from the point, merely murmuring perplexedly: She works herself up over nothing at all . . . I really can see no foundations for these fears.
Fears of what, Dr. Leidner?
He said vaguely, Oh, just—nervous terrors, you know.
Ten to one, I thought to myself, it’s drugs. And he doesn’t realize it! Lots of men don’t. Just wonder why their wives are so jumpy and have such extraordinary changes of mood.
I asked whether Mrs. Leidner herself approved of the idea of my coming.
His face lighted up.
Yes. I was surprised. Most pleasurably surprised. She said it was a very good idea. She said she would feel very much safer.
The word struck me oddly. Safer. A very queer word to use. I began to surmise that Mrs. Leidner might be a mental case.
He went on with a kind of boyish eagerness.
I’m sure you’ll get on very well with her. She’s really a very charming woman.
He smiled disarmingly. She feels you’ll be the greatest comfort to her. I felt the same as soon as I saw you. You look, if you will allow me to say so, so splendidly healthy and full of common sense. I’m sure you’re just the person for Louise.
Well, we can but try, Dr. Leidner,
I said cheerfully. I’m sure I hope I can be of use to your wife. Perhaps she’s nervous of natives and coloured people?
Oh, dear me no.
He shook his head, amused at the idea. My wife likes Arabs very much—she appreciates their simplicity and their sense of humour. This is only her second season—we have been married less than two years—but she already speaks quite a fair amount of Arabic.
I was silent for a moment or two, then I had one more try.
Can’t you tell me at all what it is your wife is afraid of, Dr. Leidner?
I asked.
He hesitated. Then he said slowly, I hope—I believe—that she will tell you that herself.
And that’s all I could get out of him.
Three
GOSSIP
It was arranged that I should go to Tell Yarimjah the following week.
Mrs. Kelsey was settling into her house at Alwiyah, and I was glad to be able to take a few things off her shoulders.
During that time I heard one or two allusions to the Leidner expedition. A friend of Mrs. Kelsey’s, a young squadron leader, pursed his lips in surprise as he exclaimed: Lovely Louise. So that’s her latest!
He turned to me. That’s our nickname for her, nurse. She’s always known as Lovely Louise.
Is she so very handsome then?
I asked.
"It’s taking her at her own valuation. She thinks she is!"
Now don’t be spiteful, John,
said Mrs. Kelsey. You know it’s not only she who thinks so! Lots of people have been very smitten by her.
Perhaps you’re right. She’s a bit long in the tooth, but she has a certain attraction.
You were completely bowled over yourself,
said Mrs. Kelsey, laughing.
The squadron leader blushed and admitted rather shamefacedly: Well, she has a way with her. As for Leidner himself, he worships the ground she walks on—and all the rest of the expedition has to worship too! It’s expected of them!
How many are there altogether?
I asked.
All sorts and nationalities, nurse,
said the squadron-leader cheerfully. An English architect, a French Father from Carthage—he does the inscriptions—tablets and things, you know. And then there’s Miss Johnson. She’s English too—sort of general bottle-washer. And a little plump man who does the photography—he’s an American. And the Mercados. Heaven knows what nationality they are—foreigners of some kind! She’s quite young—a snaky-looking creature—and oh! doesn’t she hate Lovely Louise! And there are a couple of youngsters and that’s the lot. A few odd fish, but nice on the whole—don’t you agree, Pennyman?
He was appealing to an elderly man who was sitting thoughtfully twirling a pair of pince-nez.
The latter started and looked up.
Yes—yes—very nice indeed. Taken individually, that is. Of course, Mercado is rather a queer fish—
"He has such a very odd beard, put in Mrs. Kelsey.
A queer limp kind."
Major Pennyman went on without noticing her interruption.
The young ’uns are both nice. The American’s rather silent, and the English boy talks a bit too much. Funny, it’s usually the other way round. Leidner himself is a delightful fellow—so modest and unassuming. Yes, individually they are all pleasant people. But somehow or other, I may have been fanciful, but the last time I went to see them I got a queer impression of something being wrong. I don’t know what it was exactly . . . Nobody seemed quite natural. There was a queer atmosphere of tension. I can explain best what I mean by saying that they all passed the butter to each other too politely.
Blushing a little, because I don’t like airing my own opinions too much, I said: If people are too much cooped up together it’s got a way of getting on their nerves. I know that myself from experience in hospital.
That’s true,
said Major Kelsey, but it’s early in the season, hardly time for that particular irritation to have set in.
An expedition is probably like our life here in miniature,
said Major Pennyman. It has its cliques and rivalries and jealousies.
It sounds as though they’d got a good many newcomers this year,
said Major Kelsey.
Let me see.
The squadron leader counted them off on his fingers. Young Coleman is new, so is Reiter. Emmott was out last year and so were the Mercados. Father Lavigny is a newcomer. He’s come in place of Dr. Byrd, who was ill this year and couldn’t come out. Carey, of course, is an old hand. He’s been out ever since the beginning, five years ago. Miss Johnson’s been out nearly as many years as Carey.
I always thought they got on so well together at Tell Yarimjah,
remarked Major Kelsey. They seemed like a happy family—which is really surprising when one considers what human nature is! I’m sure Nurse Leatheran agrees with me.
Well,
I said, I don’t know that you’re not right! The rows I’ve known in hospital and starting often from nothing more than a dispute about a pot of tea.
Yes, one tends to get petty in close communities,
said Major Pennyman. "All the same I feel there must be something more to it in this case. Leidner is such a gentle, unassuming man, with really a remarkable amount of tact. He’s always managed to keep his expedition happy and on good terms with each other. And yet I did notice that feeling of tension the other day."
Mrs. Kelsey laughed.
And you don’t see the explanation? Why, it leaps to the eye!
What do you mean?
"Mrs. Leidner, of course."
Oh come, Mary,
said her husband, she’s a charming woman—not at all the quarrelsome kind.
"I didn’t say she was quarrelsome. She causes quarrels!"
In what way? And why should she?
Why? Why? Because she’s bored. She’s not an archaeologist, only the wife of one. She’s bored shut away from any excitements and so she provides her own drama. She amuses herself by setting other people by the ears.
Mary, you don’t know in the least. You’re merely imagining.
Of course I’m imagining! But you’ll find I’m right. Lovely Louise doesn’t look like the Mona Lisa for nothing! She mayn’t mean any harm, but she likes to see what will happen.
She’s devoted to Leidner.
"Oh! I dare say, I’m not suggesting vulgar intrigues. But she’s an allumeuse, that woman."
Women are so sweet to each other,
said Major Kelsey.
I know. Cat, cat, cat, that’s what you men say. But we’re usually right about our own sex.
All the same,
said Major Pennyman thoughtfully, assuming all Mrs. Kelsey’s uncharitable surmises to be true, I don’t think it would quite account for that curious sense of tension—rather like the feeling there is before a thunderstorm. I had the impression very strongly that the storm might break any minute.
Now don’t frighten nurse,
said Mrs. Kelsey. She’s going there in three days’ time and you’ll put her right off.
Oh, you won’t frighten me,
I said, laughing.
All the same I thought a good deal about what had been said. Dr. Leidner’s curious use of the word safer
recurred to me. Was it his wife’s secret fear, unacknowledged or expressed perhaps, that was reacting on the rest of the party? Or was it the actual tension (or perhaps the unknown cause of it) that was reacting on her nerves?
I looked up the word allumeuse that Mrs. Kelsey had used in a dictionary, but couldn’t get any sense out of it.
Well,
I thought to myself, I must wait and see.
Four
I ARRIVE IN HASSANIEH
Three days later I left Baghdad.
I was sorry to leave Mrs. Kelsey and the baby, who was a little love and was thriving splendidly, gaining her proper number of ounces every week. Major Kelsey took me to the station and saw me off. I should arrive at Kirkuk the following morning, and there someone was to meet me.
I slept badly, I never sleep very well in a train and I was troubled by dreams. The next morning, however, when I looked out of the window it was a lovely day and I felt interested and curious about the people I was going to see.
As I stood on the platform hesitating and looking about me I saw a young man coming towards me. He had a round pink face, and really, in all my life, I have never seen anyone who seemed