Agatha Christie - Murder in Mesopotamia

‘I’m afraid I’m rather a conservative old fogy. I sometimes think that if an archaeologist’s wife isn’t really interested, it would be wiser for her not to accompany the expedition. It often leads to friction.’

‘Mrs Mercado–’ I suggested.

‘Oh, her!’ Miss Johnson brushed the suggestion aside. ‘I was really thinking of Mrs Leidner. She’s a very charming woman – and one can quite understand why Dr Leidner “fell for her” – to use a slang term. But I can’t help feeling she’s out of place here. She – it unsettles things.’

So Miss Johnson agreed with Mrs Kelsey that it was Mrs Leidner who was responsible for the strained atmosphere. But then where did Mrs Leidner’s own nervous fears come in?

‘It unsettles him,’ said Miss Johnson earnestly. ‘Of course I’m – well, I’m like a faithful but jealous old dog. I don’t like to see him so worn out and worried. His whole mind ought to be on the work – not taken up with his wife and her silly fears! If she’s nervous of coming to out-of-the-way places, she ought to have stayed in America. I’ve no patience with people who come to a place and then do nothing but grouse about it!’

And then, a little fearful of having said more than she meant to say, she went on: ‘Of course I admire her very much. She’s a lovely woman and she’s got great charm of manner when she chooses.’

And there the subject dropped.

I thought to myself that it was always the same way – wherever women are cooped up together, there’s bound to be jealousy. Miss Johnson clearly didn’t like her chief’s wife (that was perhaps natural) and unless I was much mistaken Mrs Mercado fairly hated her.

Another person who didn’t like Mrs Leidner was Sheila Reilly. She came out once or twice to the dig, once in a car and twice with some young man on a horse – on two horses I mean, of course. It was at the back of my mind that she had a weakness for the silent young American, Emmott. When he was on duty at the dig she used to stay talking to him, and I thought, too, that he admired her.

One day, rather injudiciously, I thought, Mrs Leidner commented upon it at lunch.

‘The Reilly girl is still hunting David down,’ she said with a little laugh. ‘Poor David, she chases you up on the dig even! How foolish girls are!’

Mr Emmott didn’t answer, but under his tan his face got rather red. He raised his eyes and looked right into hers with a very curious expression – a straight, steady glance with something of a challenge in it.

She smiled very faintly and looked away.

I heard Father Lavigny murmur something, but when I said ‘Pardon?’ he merely shook his head and did not repeat his remark.

That afternoon Mr Coleman said to me: ‘Matter of fact I didn’t like Mrs L. any too much at first. She used to jump down my throat every time I opened my mouth. But I’ve begun to understand her better now. She’s one of the kindest women I’ve ever met. You find yourself telling her all the foolish scrapes you ever got into before you know where you are. She’s got her knife into Sheila Reilly, I know, but then Sheila’s been damned rude to her once or twice. That’s the worst of Sheila – she’s got no manners. And a temper like the devil!’

That I could well believe. Dr Reilly spoilt her.

‘Of course she’s bound to get a bit full of herself, being the only young woman in the place. But that doesn’t excuse her talking to Mrs Leidner as though Mrs Leidner were her great-aunt. Mrs L.’s not exactly a chicken, but she’s a damned good-looking woman. Rather like those fairy women who come out of marshes with lights and lure you away.’ He added bitterly, ‘You wouldn’t find Sheila luring anyone. All she does is to tick a fellow off.’

I only remember two other incidents of any kind of significance.

One was when I went to the laboratory to fetch some acetone to get the stickiness off my fingers from mending the pottery. Mr Mercado was sitting in a corner, his head was laid down on his arms and I fancied he was asleep. I took the bottle I wanted and went off with it.

That evening, to my great surprise, Mrs Mercado tackled me.

‘Did you take a bottle of acetone from the lab?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I did.’

‘You know perfectly well that there’s a small bottle always kept in the antika-room.’

She spoke quite angrily.

‘Is there? I didn’t know.’

‘I think you did! You just wanted to come spying round. I know what hospital nurses are.’

I stared at her.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mrs Mercado,’ I said with dignity. ‘I’m sure I don’t want to spy on anyone.’

‘Oh, no! Of course not. Do you think I don’t know what you’re here for?’

Really, for a minute or two I thought she must have been drinking. I went away without saying any more. But I thought it was very odd.

The other thing was nothing very much. I was trying to entice a dog pup with a piece of bread. It was very timid, however, like all Arab dogs – and was convinced I meant no good. It slunk away and I followed it – out through the archway and round the corner of the house. I came round so sharply that before I knew I had cannoned into Father Lavigny and another man who were standing together – and in a minute I realized that the second man was the same one Mrs Leidner and I had noticed that day trying to peer through the window.

I apologized and Father Lavigny smiled, and with a word of farewell greeting to the other man he returned to the house with me.

‘You know,’ he said. ‘I am very ashamed. I am a student of Oriental languages and none of the men on the work can understand me! It is humiliating, do you not think? I was trying my Arabic on that man, who is a townsman, to see if I got on better – but it still wasn’t very successful. Leidner says my Arabic is too pure.’

That was all. But it just passed through my head that it was odd the same man should still be hanging round the house.

That night we had a scare.

It must have been about two in the morning. I’m a light sleeper, as most nurses have to be. I was awake and sitting up in bed by the time that my door opened.

‘Nurse, nurse!’

It was Mrs Leidner’s voice, low and urgent.

I struck a match and lighted the candle.

She was standing by the door in a long blue dressing-gown. She was looking petrified with terror.

‘There’s someone – someone – in the room next to mine…I heard him – scratching on the wall.’

I jumped out of bed and came to her.

‘It’s all right,’ I said. ‘I’m here. Don’t be afraid, my dear.’

She whispered: ‘Get Eric.’

I nodded and ran out and knocked on his door. In a minute he was with us. Mrs Leidner was sitting on my bed, her breath coming in great gasps.

‘I heard him,’ she said. ‘I heard him – scratching on the wall.’

‘Someone in the antika-room?’ cried Dr Leidner.

He ran out quickly – and it just flashed across my mind how differently these two had reacted. Mrs Leidner’s fear was entirely personal, but Dr Leidner’s mind leaped at once to his precious treasures.

‘The antika-room!’ breathed Mrs Leidner. ‘Of course! How stupid of me!’

And rising and pulling her gown round her, she bade me come with her. All traces of her panic-stricken fear had vanished.

We arrived in the antika-room to find Dr Leidner and Father Lavigny. The latter had also heard a noise, had risen to investigate, and had fancied he saw a light in the antika-room. He had delayed to put on slippers and snatch up a torch and had found no one by the time he got there. The door, moreover, was duly locked, as it was supposed to be at night.

Whilst he was assuring himself that nothing had been taken, Dr Leidner had joined him.