Agatha Christie - MURDER IN MESOPOTAMIA 1 1 MURDER IN MESOPOTAMIA G.K.HALL&CO. Boston^ iVLiss^c&M^ctts 1991 Copyright, 1935, 1936, by Agatha Christie. All rights reserved. Published in Large Print by arrangement with The Putnam Publishing Group, Inc. G. K. Hall Large Print Book Series. Set in 18 pt. Plantin. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Christie, Agatha, 18901976. Murder in Mesopotamia / Agatha Christie, p. cm.--(G.K. Hall large print book series) ISBN 0-8161-4567-9 (he : Ig. print). -- ISBN 0-8161-4568-7 (pbk. : Ig. print) 1. Large type books. I. Title. [PR6005.H66M8 1991] 823'.91?--dc20 9047246 Also available in Large Print by Agatha Christie: *The A.B.C. Murders *The Body in the Library *The Boomerang Clue ^Crooked House ^Evil Under the Sun *Miss Marple: The Complete Short Stories *Mr. Parker Pyne, Detective *The Murder at the Vicarage *A Murder is Announced ^The Murder of Roger Ackroyd *The Patriotic Murders *Peril at End House ^The Regatta Mystery and Other Stories ^The Secret Adversary *Three Blind Mice and Other Stories * Toward Zero ^Witness for the Prosecution and Other Stories ^Endless Night *The Moving Finger ^Murder in Three Acts ^Ordeal by Innocence * Thirteen at Dinner *A Caribbean Mystery *What Mrs. McGillicuddy Saw! *They Came to Baghdad ^The Murder on the Links ^Double Sin and Other Stories Easy to Kill Elephants Can Remember Sleeping Murder The Golden Ball and Other Stories Nemesis Third Girl The Mystery of the Blue Train The Under Dog and Other Stories The Hollow ^Available in hardcover and paperback Dedicated to | MY MANY ARCHAOLOGICAL FRIENDS IN IRAQ AND SYRIA Contents Foreword by Giles Reilly, M.D. Foreword Introducing Amy Leatheran Gossip I Arrive in Hassanieh Tell Yarimjah First Evening The Man at the Window Night Alarm Mrs. Leidner's Story Saturday Afternoon An Odd Business "I Didn't Believe ..." Hercule Poirot Arrives One of Us? Poirot Makes a Suggestion The Suspects The Stain by the Washstand Tea at Dr. Reilly's A New Suspicion 203 Miss Johnson, Mrs. Mercado, Mr. Reiter 217 Mr. Mercado, Richard Carey 236 David Emmott, Father Lavigny and a Discovery 249 I Go Psychic 267 Murder is a Habit 283 Suicide or Murder? 290 Next it Will be Me! 303 Beginning of a Journey 313 Journey's End 353 L'envoi 366 Foreword by Giles Reilly, M.D. the events chronicled in this narrative took place some four years ago. Circumstances have rendered it necessary, in my opinion, that a straightforward account of them should be given to the public. There have been the wildest and most ridiculous rumours suggesting that important evidence was suppressed and other nonsense of that kind. Those misconstructions have appeared more especially in the American press. For obvious reasons it was desirable that the account should not come from the pen of one of the expedition staff, who might reasonably be supposed to be prejudiced. I therefore suggested to Miss Amy Leatheran that she should undertake the task. She is obviously the person to do it. She has a professional character of the highest, she is not biased by having any previous connection with the University of Pittstown Expedition to Iraq and she was an observant and intelligent eyewitness. It was not very easy to persuade Miss Leatheran to undertake this task--in fact, persuading her was one of the hardest jobs of my professional career--and even after it was completed she displayed a curious reluctance to let me see the manuscript. I discovered that this was partly due to some critical remarks she had made concerning my daughter Sheila. I soon disposed of that, assuring her that as children criticize their parents freely in print nowadays, parents are only too delighted when their offspring come in for their share of abuse! Her other objection was extreme modesty about her literary style. She hoped I would "put the grammar right and all that." I have, on the contrary, refused to alter so much as a single word. Miss Leatheran's style in my opinion is vigorous, individual and entirely apposite. If she calls Hercule Poirot "Poirot" in one paragraph and "Mr. Poirot" in the next, such a variation is both interesting and suggestive. At one moment she is, so to speak, "remembering her manners" (and hospital nurses are great sticklers for etiquette) and at the next her interest in what she is telling is that of a pure human being _cap and cuffs forgotten! The only thing I have done is to take the liberty of writing a first chapter—aided by a letter kindly supplied by one of Miss Leatheran's friends. It is intended to be in the nature of a frontispiece—that is, it gives a rough sketch of the narrator. V111 Chapter 1 Foreword 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/or 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 head ache--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. Ifs 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 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 goodhumoured 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. i Chapter 2 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. Some one'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 some- | times." "God bless my soul, woman, the more personal you are the better! This is a story of human beings--not dummies! Be per- _ sonal--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 common-sense 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 others 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 some one 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 halts 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 I 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 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 affectation 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^-Fin 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. Chapter 3 Co55/p 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 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 bottlewasher. And a little plump man who does the photography--he's an American. And the Mercados. Heaven knows what nationality they are--Dagos 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 w lot. A few odd fish, but nice on the whole---don't you agree, Pennyman?" r1^ was appealing to an elderly man who 1 £ was sitting thoughtfully twirling a pair of pincenez. 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 to gether 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 new-comers 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 new-comer. 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,551 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 Penny man. "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 youmen 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 ^ere is before a thunderstorm. I had the "npression very strongly that the storm "light break any minute." 'Now don't frighten nurse," said Mrs. | Kelsey. "She's going there in three days' ^"le 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." Chapter 4 / 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 some one 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 snd I felt interested and curious about the People I was going to see. As I stood on the platform hesitating and Poking about me I saw a young man coming towards me. He had a round pink face, and feally, in all my life, I have never seen any one who seemed so exactly like a young man °ut of one of Mr. P. G. Wodehouse's books. "Hallo, 'allo, 'allo," he said. "Are you Nurse Leatheran? Well, I mean you must be--I can see that. Ha ha! My name's Coleman. Dr. Leidner sent me along. How are you feeling? Beastly journey and all that? Don't I know these trains! Well, here we are--had any breakfast? This your kit? I say, awfully modest, aren't you? Mrs. Leidner has four suitcases and a trunk--to say nothing of a hat-box and a patent pillow, and this, that and the other. Am I talking too much? Come along to the old bus." There was what I heard called later a station wagon waiting outside. It was little like a wagonette, a little like a lorry and a little like a car. Mr. Coleman helped me in, explaining that I had better sit next to the driver so as to get less jolting. Jolting! I wonder the whole contraption didn't fall to pieces! And nothing like a road--just a sort of track all ruts and holes. Glorious East indeed! When I thought of our splendid arterial roads in England it made me quite homesick. Mr. Coleman leaned forward from his seat behind me and yelled in my ear a good deal. "Track's in pretty good condition," he shouted just after we had all been thrown ^ our seats till we nearly touched the roof. And apparently he was speaking quite seriously. "Very good for you--jogs the liver," he said. "You ought to know that, nurse." "A stimulated liver won't be much good to me if my head's split open," I observed tartly. "You should come along here after it's rained! The skids are glorious. Most of the time one's going sideways." To this I did not respond. Presently we had to cross the river, which we did on the craziest ferry-boat you can imagine. To my mind it was a mercy we evergot across, but every one seemed to think it was quite usual. 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 w^ got there from the other side of the nyer--standing up quite white and fairy-like TOh minarets. It was a bit different, though, when one had crossed the bridge and come ^ht into it. Such a smell, and everything ^mshackle and tumble-down, and mud and mess everywhere. ^r. Coleman took me to Dr. Reilly's house, where, he said, the doctor was expecting me to lunch. Dr. Reilly was just as nice as ever, and his house was nice too, with a bathroom and everything spick and span. I had a nice bath, and by the time I got back into my uniform and came down I was feeling fine. Lunch was just ready and we went in, the doctor apologizing for his daughter, whom he said was always late. We'd just had a very good dish of eggs in sauce when she came in and Dr. Reilly said, "Nurse, this is my daughter Sheila." She shook hands, hoped I'd had a good journey, tossed off her hat, gave a cool nod to Mr. Coleman and sat down. | "Well, Bill," she said. "How's everything?" I He began to talk to her about some party or other that was to come off at the club, and I took stock of her. I I can't say I took to her much. A thought too cool for my liking. An off-hand sort of girl, though good-looking. Black hair and blue eyes--a pale sort of face and the usual lip-sticked mouth. She'd a cool, sarcastic way of talking that rather annoyed me. I had a probationer like her under me once--a girl who worked well, I'll admit, but whose manner always riled me. It looked to me rather as though Mr. Coleman was gone on her. He stammered a bit, and his conversation became slightly more idiotic than it was before, if that was possible! He reminded me of a large stupid dog wagging its tail and trying to please. After lunch Dr. Reilly went off to the hospital, and Mr. Coleman had some things to get in the town, and Miss Reilly asked me whether I'd like to see round the town a bit or whether I'd rather stop in the house. Mr. Coleman, she said, would be back to fetch me in about an hour. "Is there anything to see?" I asked. "There are some picturesque corners," said Miss Reilly. "But I don't know that you'd care for them. They're extremely dirty." The way she said it rather nettled me. I've never been able to see that picturesqueness excuses dirt. In the end she took me to the club, which ^s pleasant enough, overlooking the river, ^d there were English papers and maga| zines there. ^hen we got back to the house Mr. Cole-»c man wasn't there yet, so we sat down and talked a bit. It wasn't easy somehow. She asked me if I'd met Mrs. Leidner yet. "No," I said. "Only her husband." "Oh," she said. "I wonder what you'll think of her?" | I didn't say anything to that. And she went on: "I like Dr. Leidner very much. Everybody likes him." That's as good as saying, I thought, that you don't like his wife. I still didn't say anything and presently she asked abruptly: "What's the matter with her? Did Dr. Leidner tell you?" I wasn't going to start gossiping about a patient before I got there even, so I said evasively: "I understand she's a bit run down and wants looking after." | She laughed--a nasty sort of laugh--hard and abrupt. "Good God," she said. "Aren't nine people looking after her already enough?" "I suppose they've all got their work to do," I said. "Work to do? Of course they've got work rn do. But Louise comes first--she sees to that all right." "No " I said to myself. "You don't like her." "All the same," went on Miss Reilly, "I don't see what she wants with a professional hospital nurse. I should have thought amateur assistance was more in her line; not some one who'll jam a thermometer in her mouth, and count her pulse and bring everything down to hard facts." Well, I must admit it, I was curious. "You think there's nothing the matter with her?" I asked. "Of course there's nothing the matter with her! The woman's as strong as an ox. 'Dear Louise hasn't slept.' 'She's got black circles under her eyes.' Yes--put there with a blue pencil! Anything to get attention, to have everybody hovering round her, making a fuss of her!" There was something in that, of course. I had (what nurse hasn't?) come across many cases of hypochondriacs whose de- "ght it is to keep a whole household danc^g attendance. And if a doctor or a nurse ^re to say to them, "There's nothing on earth the matter with you!" well, to begin ^th they wouldn't believe it, and their inT7 dignation would be as genuine as indignation can be. Of course it was quite possible that Mrs. Leidner might be a case of this kind. Th^ husband, naturally, would be the first to b^ deceived. Husbands, I've found, are a credulous lot where illness is concerned. But all the same, it didn't quite square with what I'd heard. It didn't, for instance, fit in with that word "safer." Funny how that word had got kind of stuck in my mind. Reflecting on it, I asked: "Is Mrs. Leidner a nervous woman? Is she nervous, for instance, of living out far from anywhere?" "What is there to be nervous of? Good heavens, there are ten of them! And they've got guards too--because of the antiquities. Oh, no, she's not nervous--at least--" She seemed struck by some thought and stopped--going on slowly after a minute or two. "It's odd your saying that." "Why?" "Flight-Lieutenant Jervis and I rode over the other day. It was in the morning. Most of them were up on the dig. She was sitting writing a letter and I suppose she didn't hear ^»r» us coming. The boy who brings you in wasn't about for once, and we came straight no on to the verandah. Apparently she saw Flight-Lieutenant Jervis's shadow thrown on the wall--and she fairly screamed! Apologized, of course. Said she thought it was a strange man. A bit odd, that. I mean, even if it was a strange man, why get the wind up?" I nodded thoughtfully. Miss Reilly was silent, then burst out suddenly. "I don't know what's the matter with them there this year. They've all got the jumps. Johnson goes about so glum she can't open her mouth. David never speaks if he can help it. Bill, of course, never stops, and somehow his chatter seems to make the others worse. Carey goes about looking as though something would snap any minute. And they all watch each other as though-- as though--Oh, I don't know, but it's queer." It was odd, I thought, that two such dissimilar people as Miss Reilly and Major Pen^man should have been struck in the same banner. Just then Mr. Coleman came bustling in. "ustling was just the word for it. If his ")Q tongue had hung out and he had suddenly produced a tail to wag you wouldn't have been surprised. "Hallo-allo," he said. "Absolutely the world's best shopper--that's me. Have you shown nurse all the beauties of the town?" | "She wasn't impressed," said Miss Reilly dryly. | "I don't blame her," said Mr. Coleman heartily. "Of all the one-horse tumbledown places!" | "Not a lover of the picturesque or the antique, are you. Bill? I can't think why you are an archaeologist." | "Don't blame me for that. Blame my guardian. He's a learned bird--fellow of his college--browses among books in bedroom slippers--that kind of man. Bit of a shock for him to have a ward like me." | "I think it's frightfully stupid of you to be forced into a profession you don't care for," said the girl sharply. I "Not forced, Sheila, old girl, not forced. The old man asked if I had any special profession in mind, and I said I hadn't, and so he wangled a season out here for me." "But haven't you any idea really what you'd like to do? You must have!" if\ "Of course I have. My idea would be to rrive work a miss altogether. What I'd like to do is to have plenty of money and go in for motor-racing." "You're absurd!" said Miss Reilly. She sounded quite angry. "Oh, I realize that it's quite out of the question," said Mr. Coleman cheerfully. "So, if I've got to do something, I don't much care what it is so long as it isn't mugging in an office all day long. I was quite agreeable to seeing a bit of the world. Here goes, I said, and along I came." "And a fat lot of use you must be, I expect!" "There you're wrong. I can stand up on the dig and shout 'Y'Allah' with anybody! And as a matter of fact I'm not so dusty at drawing. Imitating handwriting used to be my speciality at school. I'd have made a firstclass forger. Oh, well, I may come to that yet. If my Rolls-Roy ce splashes you with "lud as you're waiting for a bus, you'll know that I've taken to crime." Miss Reilly said coldly: "Don't you think it's about time you darted instead of talking so much?" 'Hospitable, aren't we, nurse?" «i 31 I "I'm sure Nurse Leatheran is anxious to get settled in." "You're always sure of everything," retorted Mr. Coleman with a grin. That was true enough, I thought. Cocksure little minx. I said dryly: "Perhaps we'd better start, Mr. Coleman." "Right you are, nurse." I shook hands with Miss Reilly and thanked her, and we set off. "Damned attractive girl, Sheila," said Mr. Coleman. "But always ticking a fellow off." We drove out of the town and presently took a kind of track between green crops. It was very bumpy and full of ruts. After about half an hour Mr. Coleman pointed to a big mound by the river bank ahead of us and said: "Tell Yarimjah." I could see little black figures moving about it like ants. As I was looking they suddenly began to run all together down the side of the mound. "Fidos," said Mr. Coleman. "Knocking off time. We knock off an hour before sunset." 3') The expedition house lay a little way back from the river. The driver rounded a corner, bumped through an extremely narrow arch and there we were. The house was built round a courtyard. Originally it had occupied only the south side of the courtyard with a few unimportant out-buildings on the east. The expedition had continued the building on the other two sides. As the plan of the house was to prove °f special interest later, I append a rough ^etch of it above. All the rooms opened on to the courtyard, ^d most of the windows—the exception oeing in the original south building where here were windows giving on the outside _°untry as well. These windows, however, 11 were barred on the outside. In the southwest corner a staircase ran up to a long flat roof with a parapet running the length of the south side of the building which was higher than the other three sides. Mr. Coleman led me along the east side of the courtyard and round to where a big open verandah occupied the center of the south side. He pushed open a door at one side of it and we entered a room where several people were sitting round a tea table. "Toodle-oodle-oo!" said Mr. Coleman. "Here's Sairey Gamp." The lady who was sitting at the head of the table rose and came to greet me. I had my first glimpse of Louise Leidner. -,.N 1 A Chapter 5 Tell Yarimjah I don't mind admitting that my first impression on seeing Mrs. Leidner was one of downright surprise. One gets into the way of imagining a person when one hears them talked about. I'd got it firmly into my head that Mrs. Leidner was a dark, discontented kind of woman. The nervy kind, all on edge. And then, too, I'd expected her to be--well, to put it frankly--a bit vulgar. She wasn't a bit like what I'd imagined her! To begin with, she was very fair. She wasn't a Swede, like her husband, but she "light have been as far as looks went. She had Aat blonde Scandinavian fairness that you don't very often see. She wasn't a young ^oman. Midway between thirty and forty, 1 should say. Her face was rather haggard, anc^ ^w was some S^y nalr mingled with ule fairness. Her eyes, though, were lovely. *^1^ i Vhei ney were the only eyes I've ever come 2<; '; 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. I She put out her hand and smiled. Her voice was low and soft with an American drawl in it. I "I'm so glad you've come, nurse. Will you have some tea? Or would you like to go to your room first?" . I said I'd have tea, and she introduced me to the people sluing round the table, j "This is Miss Johnson--and Mr. Reiter. Mrs. Mercado. Mr. Emmott. Father Lavigny. My husband will be in presently. Sit down here between Father Lavigny and Miss Johnson." I I did as I was bid and Miss Johnson began talking to me, asking about my journey and so on. I I liked her. She reminded me of a matron I'd had in my probationer days whom we had all admired and worked hard for. 1C. She was getting on for fifty, I should rise and rather mannish in appearance, ) irh iron-grey nalr cropped short. She had abrupt, pleasant voice, rather deep in tone. She had an ugly rugged face with an almost laughably turned-up nose which she was in the habit of rubbing irritably when anything troubled or perplexed her. She wore a tweed coat and skirt made rather like a man's. She told me presently that she was a native of Yorkshire. Father Lavigny I found just a bit alarming. He was a tall man with a great black beard and pince-nez. I had heard Mrs. Kelsey say that there was a French monk there, and I now saw that Father Lavigny was wearing a monk's robe of some white woollen material. It surprised me rather, because I always understood that monks went into monasteries and didn't come out again. Mrs. Leidner talked to him mostly in French, but he spoke to me in quite fair ^glish. I noticed that he had shrewd, oh- ^rvant eyes which darted about from face to face. Opposite me were the other three. Mr. Kelter was a stout, fair young man with Susses. His hair was rather long and curly, nd ne had very round blue eyes. I should 3'7 1 ^ think he must have been a lovely baby, blithe wasn't much to look at now! In fact he was just a little like a pig. The other young man had very short hair cropped close to his head. He had a long, rather humorous face and very good teeth, and he looked very attractive when he smiled. He said very little, though, just nodded if spoken to or answered in monosyllables. He, like Mr. Reiter, was an American. The last person was Mrs. Mercado, and I couldn't have a good look at her because whenever I glanced in her direction I always found her staring at me with a kind of hungry stare that was a bit disconcerting to say the least of it. You might have thought a hospital nurse was a strange animal the way she was looking at me. No manners at all! She was quite young--not more than about twenty-five--and sort of dark and slinky-looking, if you know what I mean. Quite nice-looking in a kind of way, but rather as though she might have what my mother used to call "a touch of the tarbrush." She had on a very vivid pullover and her nails matched it in colour. She had a thin bird-like eager face with big eyes and rathe _ a tight, suspicious mouth. The tea was very good--a nice strong _ blend--not like the weak China stuff that 10 nxrc Kelsey always had and that had been M1"* .1 a sore trial to me. There was toast and jam and a plate of rock buns and a cutting cake. Mr. Emmott was very polite passing me things. Quiet as he was he always seemed to notice when my plate was empty. Presently Mr. Coleman bustled in and took the place beyond Miss Johnson. There didn't seem to be anything the matter with his nerves. He talked away nineteen to the dozen. Mrs. Leidner sighed once and cast a wearied look in his direction but it didn't have any effect. Nor did the fact that Mrs. Mercado, to whom he was addressing most of his conversation, was far too busy watching me to do more than make perfunctory replies. Just as we were finishing. Dr. Leidner and Mr. Mercado came in from the dig. I^r. Leidner greeted me in his nice kind manner. I saw his eyes go quickly and anxiously to his wife's face and he seemed to be relieved by what he saw there. Then he sat ^wn at the other end of the table and Mr. Mercado sat down in the vacant place by Mrs- Leidner. He was a tall, thin, melan_n_ly man, a good deal older than his wife, '>n I? with a sallow complexion and a queer, soft shapeless-looking beard. I was glad when he came in, for his wife stopped staring at me and transferred her attention to him, watching him with a kind of anxious impatience that I found rather odd. He himself stirred his tea dreamily and said nothing at all. A piece of cake lay untasted on his plate. There was still one vacant place, and presently the door opened and a man came in. I The moment I saw Richard Carey I felt he was one of the handsomest men I'd seen for a long time--and yet I doubt if that were really so. To say a man is handsome and at the same time to say he looks like a death's head sounds a rank contradiction, and yet it was true. His head gave the effect of having the skin stretched unusually tightly over the bones--but they were beautiful bones. The lean line of jaw and temple and forehead was so sharply outlined that he reminded me of a bronze statue. Out of this lean brown face looked two of the brightest and most intensely blue eyes I have ever seen. He stood about six foot and was, I should imagine, a little under forty years of age. | Dr. Leidner said: "This is Mr. Carey, our architect, nurse.5 He murmured something in a pleasant? _ ' ^ .^H •naudible English voice and sat down by J^rs. Mercado. • Mrs. Leidner said: "I'm afraid the tea is a little cold, Mr. Carey." He said: "Oh, that's quite all right, Mrs. Leidner. My fault for being late. I wanted to finish plotting those walls." Mrs. Mercado said, "J3111? Mr. Carey?" Mr. Reiter pushed forward the toast. And I remember Major Pennyman saying: "I can explain best what I mean by saying that they all passed the butter to each other a shade too politely " Yes, there was something a little odd about it. ... A shade formal. . . . You'd have said it was a party of strangers—not people who had known each other—some of them—for quite a number of years. Chapter 6 First Evening ------ i after tea Mrs. Leidner took me to show me my room. | Perhaps here I had better give a short description of the arrangement of the rooms. This was very simple and can easily be understood by a reference to the plan. 1 On either side of the big open porch were doors leading into the two principal rooms. That on the right led into the dining-room, where we had had tea. The one on the other side led into an exactly similar room (I have called it the living-room) which was used as a sitting-room and kind of informal workroom--that is, a certain amount of drawing (other than the strictly architectural) was done there, and the more delicate pieces of pottery were brought there to be pieced together. Through the living-rooH1 one passed into the antiquities-room wher^ I all the finds from the dig were brought i^« 1 stored on shelves and in pigeonholes, ^d also laid out on big benches and tables. ^rom the antika-room there was no exit save through the living-room. Beyond the antika-room, but reached through a door which gave on the courtyard, was Mrs. Leidner's bedroom. This, like the other rooms on that side of the house, had a couple of barred windows looking out over the ploughed countryside. Round the corner next to Mrs. Leidner's room, but with no actual communicating door, was Dr. Leidner's room. This was the first of the rooms on the east side of the building. Next to it was the room that was to be mine. Next to me was Miss Johnson's, with Mr. and Mrs. Mercado's beyond. After that came two socalled bathrooms. (When I once used that last term in the hearing of Dr. Reilly he laughed at me and ^id a bathroom was either a bathroom or "of a bathroom! All the same, when you've S°t used to taps and proper plumbing, it seenls strange to call a couple of mud-rooms with a tin hip-bath in each of them, and ^ddy water brought in kerosene tins, bathrooms!) I A11 Ais side of the building had been ^ded by Dr. Leidner to the original Arab 'B house. The bedrooms were all the same, each with a window and a door giving on to the courtyard. | Along the north side were the drawing office, the laboratory and the photographic rooms. I To return to the verandah, the arrangement of rooms was much the same on the other side. There was the dining-room leading into the office where the files were kept and the cataloguing and typing was done. Corresponding to Mrs. Leidner's room was that of Father Lavigny, who was given the largest bedroom; he used it also for the decoding--or whatever you call it--of tablets. | In the south-west corner was the staircase running up to the roof. On the west side were first the kitchen quarters and then four small bedrooms used by the young men-- Carey, Emmott, Reiter and Coleman. | At the north-west corner was the photographic-room with the dark-room leading out of it. Next to that the laboratory. Then came the only entrance--the big arched doorway through which we had entered. Outside were sleeping quarters for the native servants, the guard-house for the soldiers? and stables, etc., for the water horses. Tb^™ , .^ing-office was to the right of the arch- occupying the rest °ttne north side. T have gone into the arrangements of the hnuse rather fully here because I don't want to have to go over them again later. As I say? Mrs. Leidner herself took me round the building and finally established me in my bedroom? hoping that I should be comfortable and have everything I wanted. The room was nicely though plainly furnished--a bed? a chest of drawers? a wash-stand and a chair. "The boys will bring you hot water before lunch and dinner--and in the morning? of course. If you want it any other time? go outside and clap your hands? and when the boy comes say? jib mai' har. Do you think you can remember that?" I said I thought so and repeated it a little haltingly. "That's right. And be sure and shout it. Arabs don't understand anything said in an ordinary 'English' voice." "Languages are funny things?" I said. "It ^ms odd there should be such a lot of dif^entones." Mrs- Leidner smiled. Hiere is a church in Palestine in which the Lord's Prayer is written up in--ninety I think it is--different languages." -- "Well!" I said, "I must write and tell i" old aunt that. She will be interested." Mrs. Leidner fingered the jug and basin absently and shifted the soap-dish an inch or two. 1 "I do hope you'll be happy here," she said. "And not get too bored." I "I'm not often bored," I assured her. "Life's not long enough for that." | She did not answer. She continued to toy with the wash-stand as though abstractedly. Suddenly she fixed her dark violet eyes on my face. I "What exactly did my husband tell you, nurse?" I Well, one usually says the same thing to a question of that kind. 1 "I gathered you were a bit run-down and all that, Mrs. Leidner," I said glibly. "And that you just wanted some one to look after you and take any worries off your hands." She bent her head slowly and thoughtfully. I "Yes," she said. "Yes--that will do very well." That was just a little bit enigmatic, but 11 wasn't going to question it. Instead I said: "r "" "I hope you'll let me help you with any. ^ere is to do in the house. You mustn't Lt'me be idle." She smiled a little. "Thank you, nurse." Then she sat down on the bed and, rather to my surprise, began to cross-question me rather closely. I say rather to my surprise because, from the moment I set eyes on her, I felt sure that Mrs. Leidner was a lady. And a lady, in my experience, very seldom displays curiosity about one's private affairs. But Mrs. Leidner seemed anxious to know everything there was to know about me. Where I'd trained and how long ago. What had brought me out to the East. How it hadcome about that Dr. Reilly had recommended me. She even asked me if I had ever been in America or had any relations in America. One or two other questions she asked me that seemed quite purposeless at the ^me, but of which I saw the significance later. <;k n3 ^^^ly? her manner changed. h^ smiled--a warm sunny smile--and she sald? ^ry sweetly, that she was very glad I aa ^me and that she was sure I was going I[0 "e a comfort to her. -ne got up from the bed and said: 1; "Would you like to come up to the roof and see the sunset? It's usually very lovely about this time." I agreed willingly. As we went out of the room she asked: "Were there many other people on the" train from Baghdad? Any men?" I I said that I hadn't noticed anybody in particular. There had been two Frenchmen in the restaurant-car the night before. And a party of three men whom I gathered from their conversation had to do with the Pipe line. She nodded and a faint sound escaped her. It sounded like a small sigh of relief. | We went up to the roof together. | Mrs. Mercado was there, sitting on the parapet, and Dr. Leidner was bending over looking at a lot of stones and broken pottery that were laid out in rows. There were big things he called querns, and pestles and celts and stone axes, and more broken bits of pottery with queer patterns on them than I've ever seen all at once. | "Come over here," called out Mrs. Mei_ cado. "Isn't it too, too beautiful?" a It certainly was a beautiful sunset. Has' sanieh in the distance looked quite fairy-It^61 I III with the setting sun behind it, and the Riv^. lllln, . „ _J r ^ flowing between its wide banks looked Tigris iifwA^&. , , , 1 a dream nver rather than a real one. "Isn't it lovely, Eric?" said Mrs. Leidner. The doctor looked up with abstracted eyes, murmured, "Lovely, lovely," perfunctorily and went on sorting potsherds. Mrs. Leidner smiled and said: "Archaeologists only look at what lies beneath their feet. The sky and the heavens don't exist for them." Mrs. Mercado giggled. "Oh, they're very queer people--you'll soon find that out, nurse," she said. She paused and then added: "We are all so glad you've come. We've been so very worried about our dear Mrs. Leidner, haven't we, Louise?" "Have you?" Her voice was not encouraging. "Oh, yes. She really has been very bad, nurse. All sorts of alarms and excursions. ou know when anybody says to me of some °ne, 'It's just nerves,' I always say: But what could be worse? Nerves are the core and cemre of one5s ^ing, aren't they?" ^ss, puss," I thought to myself. I Mrs' Leidner said dryly: well, you needn't be worried about me 1} any more. Mane. Nurse is going to look after me/? r "Certainly I am," I said cheerfully. | "I'm sure that will make all the differ ence," said Mrs. Mercado. "We've all felt that she ought to see a doctor or do something. Her nerves have really been all to pieces haven't they, Louise dear?" | "So much so that I seem to have got on your nerves with them," said Mrs. Leidner. "Shall we talk about something more interesting than my wretched ailments?" I understood then that Mrs. Leidner was the sort of woman who could easily make enemies. There was a cool rudeness in her tone (not that I blamed her for it) which brought a flush to Mrs. Mercado's rather sallow cheeks. She stammered out something, but Mrs. Leidner had risen and had joined her husband at the other end of the roof. I doubt if he heard her coming till she laid her hand on his shoulder, then he looked up quickly. There was affection and a kind of eager questioning in his face. | Mrs. Leidner nodded her head gently- Presently, her arm through his, they wai1' dered to the far parapet and finally down th^ steps together. 1 "He's devoted to her, isn't he?" said Mrs. Mercado. "Yes," I sa1^- '^t?s very mce to see-" She was looking at me with a queer, rather eager sidelong glance. "What do you think is really the matter with her, nurse?" she asked, lowering her voice a little. "Oh, I don't suppose it's much," I said cheerfully. "Just a bit run down, I expect." Her eyes still bored into me as they had done at tea. She said abruptly: "Are you a mental nurse?" "Oh, dear no!" I said. "What made you think that?" She was silent for a moment, then she said: "Do you know how queer she's been? Did Dr. Leidner tell you?" I don't hold with gossiping about my cases. On the other hand, it's my experience that it's often very hard to get the truth out of the relatives, and until you know the truth you're often working in the dark and doing n0 good. Of course, when there's a doctor in charge, it's different. He tells you what 11 s necessary for you to know. But in this ^se there wasn't a doctor in charge. Dr. all had.never been called in profession---- ^nd in my own mind I wasn't at all C 1 sure that Dr. Leidner had told me all f could have done. It's often the husbands instinct to be reticent--and more honour to him, I say. But all the same, the more I knew the better I could tell which line to take Mrs. Mercado (whom I put down in my own mind as a thoroughly spiteful little cat) was clearly dying to talk. And frankly, on the human side as well as the professional, I wanted to hear what she had to say. You can put it that I was just every-day curious if you like. I I said, "I gather Mrs. Leidner's not been quite her normal self lately?" | Mrs. Mercado laughed disagreeably. I "Normal? I should say not. Frightening us to death. One night it was fingers tapping on her window. And then it was a hand without an arm attached. But when it came to a yellow face pressed against the window-- and when she rushed to the window there was nothing there--well, I ask you, it is a bit creepy for all of us." 1 "Perhaps somebody was playing a trick on her," I suggested. I "Oh, no, she fancied it all. And only three days ago at dinner they were firing off shots in the village--nearly a mile away--and she | jumped up and screamed out--it scared us Ct Hto death. As for Dr. Leidner, he rushed , g^d behaved in the most ridiculous 3 'It's nothing, darling, it's nothing at 11' he kept saying. I think, you know, irse men sometimes encourage women in iese hysterical fancies. It's a pity because \ a bad thing. Delusions shouldn't be en- ouraged." "Not if they are delusions," I said dryly. "What else could they be?" I didn't answer because I didn't know ^hat to say. It was a funny business. The hots and the screaming were natural nough--for any one in a nervous condition, tiat is. But this queer story of a spectral face nd hand was different. It looked to me like ne of two things--either Mrs. Leidner had lade the story up (exactly as a child shows ff by telling lies about something that never appened in order to make herself the centre f attraction) or else it was, as I had sug^ted, a deliberate practical joke. It was the ^t of thing, I reflected, that an unimaginative hearty sort of young fellow like Mr. '°leman might think very funny. I decided 3 keep a close watch on him. Nervous paints can be scared nearly out of their minds ----Hyjoke. fc^^ c-> Mrs. Mercado said with a sideways glan1 at me. 1| "She's very romantic-looking, nurse don't you think so? The sort of woman things happen to." I "Have many things happened to her?" I asked. "Well, her first husband was killed in the war when she was only twenty. I think that's very pathetic and romantic, don't you?" I "It's one way of calling a goose a swan,g I said dryly. | "Oh! nurse. What an extraordinary remark!" | It was really a very true one. The amount of women you hear say, "If Donald--or Arthur--or whatever his name was--had only lived." And I sometimes think but if he had, he'd have been a stout, unromantic, short-tempered, middle-aged husband as likely as not. I It was getting dark and I suggested that we should go down. Mrs. Mercado agreed and asked if I would like to see the laboratory. "My husband will be there--working." 1 I said I would like to very much and we made our way there. The place was lighted by a lamp but it was empty. Le He said. And that was a funny thing, I though? for a monk to say. But of course I suppocp he might have heard a lot of things in confer sion. But that rather puzzled me, because I wasn't sure if monks heard confessions or if it was only priests. I supposed he was a monk with that long woollen robe--all sweeping up the dirt--and the rosary and all! "Yes, she could be ruthless," he said musingly. "I am quite sure of that. And yet-- though she is so hard--like stone, like marble--yet she is afraid. What is she afraid of?" I That, I thought, is what we should all like to know! | At least it was possible that her husband did know, but I didn't think any one else did. - | He fixed me with a sudden bright, dark eye. i "It is odd here? You find it odd? Or quite natural?" ^ "Not quite natural," I said, considering- "It's comfortable enough as far as the a1'' rangements go--but there isn't quite a coitt' fortable feeling." As "It makes me uncomfortable. I have th^l C A .fl ,?_^e became suddenly a little more ^. ^g^^-^that something prepares itself. nr Leidner, too, he is not quite himself. omething is worrying him also." "His wife's health?" "That perhaps. But there is more. There lis--how shall I say it--an uneasiness." And that was just it, there was an uneasiness. F We didn't say any more just then, for Dr. Leidner came towards us. He showed me a child's grave that had just been uncovered. Rather pathetic it was--the little bones-- and a pot or two and some little specks that Dr. Leidner told me were a bead necklace. It was the workmen that made me laugh. You never saw such a lot of scarecrows--all in long petticoats and rags, and their heads tied up as though they had toothache. And every now and then, as they went to and fro carrying away baskets of earth, they began to sing--at least I suppose it was meant to l0^ singing--a queer sort of monotonous ant Aat went on and on over and over agaln-1 noticed that most of their eyes were ^nble-^all covered with discharge, and tK i^ tw0 looked half blind- I was ^st "iking what a miserable lot they were L-_^r. Leidner said, "Rather a fme-lookr c ii • ,1' I ^^H •rr, B 1 ^ '^r niiil r f | i| ing lot of men, aren't they?" and I though f what a queer world it was and how two dif. ferent people could see the same thing each of them the other way round. I haven't pi^ that very well, but you can guess what I mean. • After a bit Dr. Leidner said he was going back to the house for a mid-morning cup of tea. So he and I walked back together and he told me things. When he explained, it was all quite different. I sort of saw it all—how it used to be—the streets and the houses, and he showed me ovens where they baked bread and said the Arabs used much the same kind of ovens nowadays. I We got back to the house and found Mrs. Leidner had got up. She was looking better to-day, not so thin and worn. Tea came in almost at once and Dr. Leidner told her what had turned up during the morning on the dig. Then he went back to work and Mrs. Leidner asked me if I would like to see some of the finds they had made up to date. Of course I said "Yes," so she took me through into the antika-room. There was a lot of stuff lying about—mostly broken pots it seemed to me—or else ones that were all mended and stuck together. The whole lot might have been thrown away, I thought. 1 pear, dear," I said, "it's a pity they're 11 so broken, isn't it? Are they really worth Mrs. Leidner smiled a little and she said: "You mustn't let Eric hear you. Pots interest him more than anything else, and some of these are the oldest things we have --perhaps as much as seven thousand years old." And she explained how some of them came from a very deep cut on the mound down towards the bottom, and how, thousands of years ago, they had been broken and mended with bitumen, showing people prized their things just as much then as they do nowadays. "And now," she said, "we'll show you something more exciting." And she took down a box from the shelf and showed me a beautiful gold dagger with dark-blue stones in the handle. I exclaimed with pleasure. | Mrs. Leidner laughed. 'Yes, everybody likes gold! Except my disband." _Why doesn't Dr. Leidner like it?" Well, for one thing it comes expensive. u have to pay the workmen who find it ----ight of the object in gold." T "Good gracious!" I exclaimed. "Bin why?" "Oh, it's a custom. For one thing it pr^ vents them from stealing. You see, if they did steal it wouldn't be for the archaeological value but for the intrinsic value. They could melt it down. So we make it easy for them to be honest." | She took down another tray and showed me a really beautiful gold drinking-cup with a design of rams' heads on it. | Again I exclaimed. | "Yes, it is beautiful, isn't it? These came from a prince's grave. We found other royal graves but most of them had been plundered. This cup is our best find. It is one of the most lovely ever found anywhere. Early Akkadian. Unique." I Suddenly, with a frown, Mrs. Leidner brought the cup up close to her eyes and scratched at it delicately with her nail. j "How extraordinary! There's actually wax on it. Some one must have been in here with a candle." She detached the little flake and replaced the cup in its place. After that she showed me some queer litti6 terra-cotta figurines--but most of them we^ • Jg Nasty minds those old people had, 1 %en we went back to the porch Mrs. uercado was sitting polishing her nails. She s holding them out in front of her admirwa ^e effect. I thought myself that anything more hideous than that orange red could hardly have been imagined. Mrs. Leidner had brought with her from the antika-room a very delicate little saucer broken in several pieces, and this she now proceeded to join together. I watched her for a minute or two and then asked if I could help. "Oh, yes, there are plenty more." She fetched quite a supply of broken pottery and, we set to work. I soon got into the hang of it and she praised my ability. I suppose most nurses are handy with their fingers. "How busy everybody is," said Mrs. Mer^do. "It makes me feel dreadfully idle. Of ^rse I am idle." \ "Why shouldn't you be if you like?" said ^s. Leidner. ri^ voice was quite uninterested. At twelve we had lunch. Afterwards Dr. loner and Mr. Mercado cleaned some potYi Pouring a solution of hydrochloric acid ^l11- One pot went a lovely plum colour rp and a pattern of bulls' horns came out o I another one. It was really quite magical. a]) the dried mud that no washing would re. move sort of foamed and boiled away. _ Mr. Carey and Mr. Coleman went out on the dig and Mr. Reiter went off to the pho. tographic room. • "What will you do, Louise?" Dr. Leidner asked his wife. "I suppose you'll rest for a bit?" | I gathered that Mrs. Leidner usually lay down every afternoon. | "I'll rest for about an hour. Then perhaps I'll go out for a short stroll." "Good. Nurse will go with you, won't you?" I "Of course," I said. | "No, no," said Mrs. Leidner. "I like going alone. Nurse isn't to feel so much on duty that I'm not allowed out of her sight. _ "Oh, but I'd like to come," I said. a "No, really, I'd rather you didn't." She was quite firm—almost peremptory. --^ t»ii ^-n ----- --i--,*. "Now, now," I said. "This won't do _ spoke sharply. I pushed her into a chai ^sfi ran transport and the loss of hundreds went over to the wash-stand and got a coiri ^Tves I don't know what most people sponge and bathed her forehead and wrists \d have done. . . . But I'll tell you what "No more nonsense," I said. "Tell i^ vvo.4 \ went straight to my father, who was 1^,1,. ^a ^.,^ui,. ^n »k^^ ^ " - 1 ^ ^^ Department, and told him the in - -- , i- -.._- i-'ii-J ;_ <.i-^ -„„„ l,,<- calmly and sensibly all about it." | That stopped her. She sat up and spoke in her natural voice. "You're a treasure, nurse," she said. "Yoi make me feel as though I'm six. I'm goim to tell you." | "That's right," I said. "Take your timi and don't hurry." She began to speak, slowly and deliber ately. I "When I was a girl of twenty I married. A young man in one of our state depart ments. It was in 1918." "I know," I said. "Mrs. Mercado told me. He was killed in the war." j But Mrs. Leidner shook her head. "That's what she thinks. That's what everybody thinks. The truth is something quite different. I was a queer patriotic, e11' thusiastic girl, nurse, full of idealism. Whe11 I'd been married a few months I discovered--by a quite unforeseeable accident-^ that my husband was a spy in German p^l I learned that the information supplied ^ rruth. Frederick was killed in the war--but he was killed in America--shot as a spy." I "Oh, dear, dear!" I ejaculated. "How terrible!" "Yes," she said. "It was terrible. He was so kind, too--so gentle. . . . And all the time . . . But I never hesitated. Perhaps I was wrong." "It's difficult to say," I said. "I'm sure I don't know what one would do." "What I'm telling you was never generally known outside the state departments. Ostensibly my husband had gone to the front snd had been killed. I had a lot of sympathy ^d kindness shown me as a war widow." Her voice was bitter and I nodded comP^hendingly. "T r U)ts of people wanted to marry me, but ^ ^ways refused. I'd had too bad a shock. didn't feel I could ever trust any one agam.» J Yes? I can imagine feeling like that." ^d then I became very fond of a certain ^ young man. I wavered. An amazing thi happened! I got an anonymous letter---f^ ^ Frederick--saying that if I ever married an other man, he'd kill me!" "From Frederick? From your dead hv^ band?" "Yes. Of course, I thought at first I wa? mad or dreaming. ... At last I went to my father. He told me the truth. My husband hadn't been shot after all. He'd escaped-- but his escape did him no good. He was involved in a train wreck a few weeks later and his dead body was found amongst others. My father had kept the fact of his escape from me, and since the man had died anyway he had seen no reason to tell me anything until now. j "But the letter I received opened up entirely new possibilities. Was it perhaps a fact that my husband was still alive? I "My father went into the matter as carefully as possible. And he declared that as fai| as one could humanly be sure the body tN was buried as Frederick's was Frederick s^ There had been a certain amount of distil uration, so that he could not speak with ab» solute cast-iron certainty, but he reiterate his solemn belief that Frederick was ^ m ^T ii r this letter was a cruel and malicious hoax^ same thing happened more than If I seemed to be on intimate terms on^ any m311? I wou^ receive a threatening F e "In your husband's handwriting?" She said slowly: "That is difficult to say. I had no letters «ofhis. I had only my memory to go by." "There was no allusion or special form of words used that could make you sure?" "No. There were certain terms--nickEames, for instance--private between us-- 'one of those had been used or quoted, then I should have been quite sure." "Yes," I said thoughtfully. "That is odd. It looks as though it wasn't your husband. But is there any one else it could be?" "There is a possibility. Frederick had a younger brother--a boy of ten or twelve at "^ time of our marriage. He worshipped | Frederick and Frederick was devoted to nln1- What happened to this boy, William ^"le was, I don't know. It seems to me ^ssible that, adoring his brother as fanatiJ as he did, he may have grown up re, ^g me as directly responsible for his ]L{' He had always been jealous of me and fl may have invented this scheme by way ^VfTT have not forgotten. I am making my plans. punishment." ^^ got to die. Why did you disobey? "Ti-'c rtr»cciM^ " T csnd "Tt's ama7ir>^ .1 ^ J" „ . ,^nr. Imchand T^nnw nKnnt thic^" took out a letter and handed it to me. | The ink was slightly faded. It was written in a rather womanish hand with a forward S^nt I ""' LAAat 1^! me nisi Lime i icauy uau You ham disobeyed. Now you cannot escape ^^ ^ederick. There was always You must be Frederick Bosner's wife only! ^ «° a lmle ruthless behind his genti ,. . . c,rm ^iroo ^«-;n t ^i-.',-i_ i._. i have got to die. 1< "I was frightened--but not so much as might have been to begin with. Being ^lu1 jEric made me feel safe. Then, a month lat^ T got a second letter." 'It's possible," I said. "It's amazing th 1 way children do remember if they've had shock." , "I know. This boy may have dedicated his life to revenge." "Please go on." | "There isn't very much more to tell. I met Eric three years ago. I meant never to marry. Eric made me change my mind. Right up to our wedding day I waited for another threatening letter. None came. I decided that whoever the writer might be, he was either dead, or tired of his cruel sport. Two day^ after our marriage I got this." ^ Drawing a small attache-case which was on the table towards her, she unlocked it, Does your husband know about this?" Mrs. Leidner answered slowly. "He knows that I am threatened. I showed ,. ^oth letters when the second one came. ug was inclined to think the whole thing a hoax. He thought also that it might be some one who wanted to blackmail me by pretending my first husband was alive." She paused and then went on. "A few days after I received the second letter we had a narrow escape from death by gas poisoning. Somebody entered our apartment after we were asleep and turned on the gas. Luckily I woke and smelled the gas in time. Then I lost my nerve. I told Eric how I had been persecuted for years, and I told him that I was sure this madman, whoever ^ might be, did really mean to kill me. I ^ink that for the first time I really did think s someeness. _____ -_----„--„ ^--^^^^. we was still, I think, less alarmed than was. He wanted to go to the police. Nat[y I wouldn't hear of that. In the end we i eeu Aat I should accompany him here, "^ it might be wise if I didn't return to 1^ to America in the summer but stayed in Tn • don and Paris. • "We carried out our plan and all wJ" well. I felt sure that now everything would be all right. After all, we had put half the globe between ourselves and my enemy. • "And then—a little over three weeks ago—I received a letter—with an Iraq stamp on it." • She handed me a third letter. I You thought you could escape. You were wrong. You shall not be false to me and live. I have always told you so. Death is coming very soon. "And a week ago—this! Just lying on me table here. It had not even gone through the post." I took the sheet of paper from her. There was just one phrase scrawled across it. I have arrived. | She stared at me. ' * "You see? You understand? He's going to kill me. It may be Frederick—it may be little William—but he's going to kill me." Her voice rose shudderingly. I caught b^ wrist. , "Now—now," I said warningly. "Don1 give way. We'll look after you. Have you S°\ any sal volatile?" 1 Q/l t, nodded towards the wash-stand and e her a good dose. t gave ner n1 ness and he did not expect to be back 3 ril the afternoon. I rather suspected he ^ight be lunching with Sheila Reilly. Work on the dig was usually not very busy 3n the afternoon of pay-day as at three-thirty [he paying-out began. The little boy, Abdullah, whose business it was to wash pots, was established as usual In the centre of the courtyard, and again as usual, kept up his queer nasal chant. Dr. Leidner and Mr. Emmott were going to put in some work on the pottery until Mr. Coleman returned, and Mr. Carey went up to the dig. Mrs. Leidner went to her room to rest. I settled her as usual and then went to my own room, taking a book with me as I did not e1 ^epy. It was then about a quarter to ^ and a couple of hours passed quite P^santly. I was reading Death in a Nursing I ^^^y a most exciting story—though , on t think the author knew much about p ^y nursing homes are run! At any rate ^__ver known a nursing home like that! 1 I really felt inclined to write to the auti" and put him right about a few points. r When I put the book down at last (it m the red-haired parlourmaid and I'd nevp I suspected her once!) and looked at my watch I was quite surprised to find it was twenty minutes to three! I got up, straightened my uniform, and came out into the courtyard. J Abdullah was still scrubbing and still singing his depressing chant, and David Emmott was standing by him sorting the scrubbed pots, and putting the ones that were broken into boxes to await mending. I strolled over towards them just as Dr. Leidner came down the staircase from the roof. m "Not a bad afternoon," he said cheerfully. "I've made a bit of a clearance up there. Louise will be pleased. She's complained lately that there's not room to walk about. I'll go and tell her the good news." ' He went over to his wife's door, tappe0 on it and went in. It must, I suppose, have been about a mi11' ute and a half later that he came out agai^' I happened to be looking at the door whe° I he did so. It was like a nightmare. He ha gone in a brisk, cheerful man. He came ou I like a drunken one--reeling a little on ^j 1 r»^» M ^B d with a queer dazed expression on tec1? hisa gg_5) he called in a queer, hoarse ' voice. "Nurse-" I saw at once something was wrong, and T ran across to him. He looked awful--his face was all grey and twitching, and I saw he might collapse any minute. "My wife ..." he said. "My wife . . . Oh, my God ..." I pushed past him into the room. Then I caught my breath. Mrs. Leidner was lying in a dreadful huddled heap by the bed. I bent over her. She was quite dead--must have been dead an hour at least. The cause of death was perfectly plain --a terrific blow on the front of the head just over the right temple. She must have got up from the bed and been struck down where she stood. 1 didn't handle her more than I could help. 1 glanced round the room to see if there w^_ anything that might give a clue, but ^othing seemed out of place or disturbed. ne Endows were closed and fastened, and ^ ha^ ^as n0 place where the murderer could (e "^den. Obviously he had been and belong ago. K1111 ^t? closing the door behind me. Dr. Leidner had collapsed completely now. David Emmott was with him and turned a white, inquiring face to me. In a few low words I told him what had happened. :- - . As I had always suspected, he was a first- class person to rely on in trouble. He was perfectly calm and self-possessed. Thosem blue eyes of his opened very wide, but otherwise he gave no sign at all. He considered for a moment and then said: I | "I suppose we must notify the police as soon as possible. Bill ought to be back any minute. What shall we do with Leidner?" "Help me to get him into his room." He nodded. "Better lock this door first, I suppose," he said. He turned the key in the lock of Mrs.B Leidner5 s door, then drew it out and handedB it to me. "I guess you'd better keep this, nurse. Now then." Together we lifted Dr. Leidner and carried him into his own room and laid him on his bed. Mr. Emmott went off in search 01 brandy. He returned, accompanied by mi^ Johnson. I T-fer face was drawn and anxious 5 but she . ^flim and capable, and I felt satisfied to was canu _ ., J. , , leave Dr. Leidner m her charge. T hurried out into the courtyard. The station wagon was just coming in through the archway. I think it gave us a all a shock to see Bill's pink, cheerful face as he jumped out with his familiar "Hallo, 'allo, 'allo! Here's the oof!" He went on gaily, "No highway robberies--" He came to a halt suddenly. "I say, is anything up? What's the matter with you all? You look as though the cat had killed your canary." Mr. Emmott said shortly: "Mrs. Leidner's dead--killed." "What?" Bill's jolly face changed ludicrously. He stared, his eyes goggling. "Mother Leidner dead! You're pulling my leg." 'Dead?" It was a sharp cry. I turned to ^e Mrs. Mercado behind me. "Did you say ^s. Leidner had been killed?9' ^es," I said. "Murdered." ^. No!" she gasped. "Oh, no! I won't be- le^elt .^haps she's committed suicide." h 'ulcides don5t hit themselves on the ^^i" I said dryly. "It's murder all right, nrs. Mercado." ip She sat down suddenly on an upturned packing-case. She said, "Oh, but this is horrible--kor~ rible ..." | Naturally it was horrible. We didn't need her to tell us so! I wondered if perhaps she was feeling a bit remorseful for the harsh feelings she had harboured against the dead woman, and all the spiteful things she had I said. After a minute or two she asked rather breathlessly: I "What are you going to do?" ^ Mr. Emmott took charge in his quiet way. "Bill, you'd better get in again to Hassanieh as quick as you can. I don't know much about the proper procedure. Better get hold of Captain Maitland, he's in charge of the police here, I think. Get Dr. Reilly first. He'll know what to do." Mr. Coleman nodded. All the facetiousness was knocked out of him. He just looked young and frightened. Without a word he jumped into the station wagon and drove 06' Mr. Emmott said rather uncertainly? * suppose we ought to have a hunt round. He raised his voice and called: „ i^Ibrahim!" "Na'am." The house-boy came running. Mr. Emspoke to him in Arabic. A vigorous "^loquy passed between them. The boy reined to be emphatically denying some- At last Mr. Emmott said in a perplexed voice: "He says there's not been a soul here this afternoon. No stranger of any kind. I suppose the fellow must have slipped in without their seeing him." "Of course he did," said Mrs. Mercado. "He slunk in when the boys weren't looking." "Yes," said Mr. Emmott. The slight uncertainty in his voice made me look at him inquiringly. He turned and spoke to the little potboy, Abdullah, asking him a question. The boy replied vehemently at length. The puzzled frown on Mr. Emmott's brow "^creased. 'I don't understand it," he murmured un- tohis breath. "I don't understand it at all." ^Ut he didn't tell me what he didn't un- ^rstand. Chapter 11 An Odd Bus/ness I'M adhering as far as possible to telling only my personal part in the business. I pass over the events of the next two hours 5 the arrival of Captain Maitland and the police and Dr. Reilly. There was a good deal of general confusion, questioning, all the routine business, I suppose. In my opinion we began to get down to brass tacks about five o'clock when Dr. Reilly asked me to come with him into the office. I He shut the door, sat down in Dr. Leidner's chair, motioned me to sit down opposite him, and said briskly: "Now, then, nurse, let's get down to it. There's something damned odd here. I settled my cuffs and looked at him i11' quiringly. j He drew out a notebook. I "This is for my own satisfaction. no^. 1 ^ time was it exactly when Dr. Leidner what "11A" . ,, found his wife's body? "T should say it was almost exactly a quarter to three," I said. "And how do you know that?" "Well? I looked at my watch when I got up. It was twenty to three then." "Let's have a look at this watch of yours." I slipped it off my wrist and held it out to him. "Right to the minute. Excellent woman. Good, that's that fixed. Now did you form any opinion as to how long she'd been dead?" "Oh, really, doctor," I said, "I shouldn't like to say." "Don't be so professional. I want to see if your estimate agrees with mine." "Well, I should say she'd been dead at least an hour." "Quite so. I examined the body at halfPast four and I'm inclined to put the time 01 death between 1.15 and 1.45. We'll say ^f-past one at a guess. That's near enough." Hepopped and drummed thoughtfully l^his fingers on the table. damned odd, this business," he said. 1 "Can you tell me about it--you were resting you say? Did you hear anything?" "At half-past one? No, doctor. I didn't hear anything at half-past one or at any other time. I lay on my bed from a quarter to one until twenty to three and I didn't hear anything except that droning noise the Arab boy makes, and occasionally Mr. Emmott shouting up to Dr. Leidner on the roof." | "The Arab boy--yes." I He frowned. At that moment the door opened and Dr.^B Leidner and Captain Maitland came in. Captain Maitland was a fussy little man with a pair of shrewd grey eyes. Dr. Reilly rose and pushed Dr. Leidner into his chair. "Sit down, man. I'm glad you've come. We shall want you. There's something very queer about this business." Dr. Leidner bowed his head. m "I know." He looked at me. "My wife confided the truth to Nurse Leatheran. ^e mustn't keep anything back at this juncture? nurse, so please tell Captain Maitland and Dr. Reilly just what passed between you an0 my wife yesterday." As nearly as possible I gave our conv^ sation verbatim. « r ntain Maitland uttered an occasional . , lotion. When I had finished he turned ^Dr. Leidner. "And this is all true, Leidner—eh?" "Every word Nurse Leatheran has told you is correct." "What an extraordinary story," said Dr. Reilly. "Yo11 can produce these letters?" "I have no doubt they will be found amongst my wife's belongings." "She took them out of the attache-case on her table," I said. "Then they are probably still there." He turned to Captain Maitland and his usually gentle face grew hard and stern. "There must be no question of hushing this story up. Captain Maitland. The one thing necessary is for this man to be caught and punished." "You believe it actually is Mrs. Leidner's former husband?" I asked. 'Don't you think so, nurse?" asked Cap^n Maitland. Well, I think it is open to doubt," I said ^sitatingly. ^ "In any case," said Dr. Leidner, "the man . murderer—and I should say a dangerous ^c also. He must be found. Captain 1 Maitland. He must. It should not be diffi cult." Dr. Reilly said slowly: "It may be more difficult than you think eh, Maitland?" Captain Maitland tugged at his moustache without replying. 1 Suddenly i gave a start. "Excuse me," I said, "but there's something perhaps I ought to mention." I told my story of the Iraqi we had seen trying to peer through the window, and of I how I had seen him hanging about the place two days ago trying to pump Father La- vigny. "Good," said Captain Maitland, "we'll make a note of that. It will be something for the police to go on. The man may have some connection with the case." "Probably paid to act as a spy," I suggested. '^o find out when the coast was clear." Dr. Reilly rubbed his nose with a harassed gesture. "That^s the devil of it," he said. "SuP-l posing the coast wasn't clear--eh?" I stared at him in a puzzled fashion. Captain Maitland turned to Dr. Leidi^- 4(1 ^nt you to listen to me very carefw, •riner This is a review of the evidence 1 p eot up to date. After lunch, which was we j at twelve o'clock and was over by five se ^venty to one, your wife went to her ^oom accompanied by Nurse Leatheran, who settled her comfortably. You yourself went up to the roof, where you spent the next two hours, is that right?" "Yes." "Did you come down from the roof at all during that time?" "No." "Did any one come up to you?" "Yes, Emmott did pretty frequently. He went to and fro between me and the boy, who was washing pottery down below." "Did you yourself look over into the courtyard, at all?" K"0nce or twice—usually to call to Emott about something." r 'On each occasion the boy was sitting in the middle of the courtyard washing pots?" •"Yes." What was the longest period of time w n Emmott was with you and absent from Lne courtyard?" ^ r; Leidner considered. Ute ^» ^fficult to say—perhaps ten min^——Personally I should say two or three |^^^ d lately outside the archway chatting to ^ m^ guard and plucking a couple of fowls. ihrahim and Mansur, the house-boys, joined , . fhere at about 1.15. They both remained there laughing and talking until 2.30--by which time your wife was already dead." Dr. Leidner leaned forward. "I don't understand--you puzzle me. What are you hinting at?" minutes, but I know by experience that my sense of time is not very good when I am absorbed and interested in what I am doing." Captain Maitland looked at Dr. Reillv The latter nodded. "We'd better get down to it," he said. Captain Maitland took out a small notebook and opened it. "Look here, Leidner, I'm going to read to you exactly what every member of your expedition was doing between one and two H this afternoon." "But surely--" "Wait. You'll see what I'm driving at in -- a minute. First Mr. and Mrs. Mercado. Mr. Mercado says he was working in his laboratory. Mrs. Mercado says she was in her bedroom shampooing her hair. Miss John- f son says she was in the living-room taking U impressions of cylinder seals. Mr. Reiter says he was in the dark-room developing plates. Father Lavigny says he was working in his bedroom. As to the two remaining members of the expedition, Carey and Coleman, the former was up on the dig and Coleman ^as * in Hassanieh. So much for the members ° the expedition. Now for the servants. in r-nnk--vour Indian chap--was sitting lln j: "Is there any means of access to your wife's room except by the door into the courtyard?" "No. There are two windows, but they are heavily barred--and besides, I think they were shut." He looked at me questioningly. rfThey were closed and latched on the inside," I said promptly. "In any case," said Captain Maitland, ^ven if they had been open, no one could have entered or left the room that way. My allows and I have assured ourselves of that. 1 ^s the same with all the other windows ^ng on the open country. They all have n bars and all the bars are in good conon. To have got into your wife's room, a ^nger must have come through the arched --^y into the courtyard. But we have the united assurances of the guard, the cook and the house-boy that nobody did so." Dr. Leidner sprang up. "What do you mean? What do you mean?" "Pull yourself together, man," said Dr. Reilly quietly. "I know it's a shock, but ifs got to be faced. The murderer didn't come from outside--so he must have come from inside. It looks as though Mrs. Leidner must have been murdered by a member of your own expedition." Chapter 12 //; D/c/n't Believe . . .// "No. No!" Dr. Leidner sprang up and walked up and down in an agitated manner. "It's impossible what you say, Reilly. Absolutely impossible. One of us? Why, every single member of the expedition was devoted to Louise!" A queer little expression pulled down the corners of Dr. Reilly's mouth. Under the circumstances it was difficult for him to say anything, but if ever a man's silence was eloquent his was at that minute. ^'Q^te impossible," reiterated Dr. Leidner. They were all devoted to her. Louise had such wonderful charm. Every one felt it." n Rr- Reilly coughed. Excuse me, Leidner, but after all that's ex ^Y0111' OPlnlon ^ ^v member of the Ina?0 on na(^ disliked your wife they would ^----Ity not advertise the fact to you.' »5 Dr. Leidner looked distressed. "True—quite true. But all the same Reilly, I think you are wrong. I'm sure every one was fond of Louise." He was silent for a moment or two and then burst out. 1 "This idea of yours is infamous. "It'sJ ifs frankly incredible." • "You can't get away from—er—the facts," said Captain Maitland. "Facts? Facts? Lies told by an Indian cook and a couple of Arab house-boys. You know these fellows as well as I do, Reilly; so do you, Maitland. Truth as truth means nothing to them. They say what you want them to say as a mere matter of politeness." "In this case," said Dr. Reilly dryly, "they are saying what we don't want them to say. Besides, I know the habits of your household fairly well. Just outside the gate is a kind of social club. Whenever I've been over here in the afternoon I've always found most of your staff there. It's the natural place ^ them to be." "All the same I think you are assume too much. Why shouldn't this man—th^ devil—have got in earlier and conceal^ himself somewhere?" 1 "I agree that that is not actually imp0 a M r ,? gaid Dr. Reilly coolly. "Let us ass that a stranger ^i'J somehow gain "Mission unseen. He would have to remain a ncealed until the right moment (and he 00 ^ainly couldn't have done so in Mrs. Leidc 5g room, there is no cover there) and take the risk of being seen entering the room and leaving it--with Emmott and the boy in the courtyard most of the time." "The boy. I'd forgotten the boy," said Dr. Leidner. "A sharp little chap. But surely, I Maitland, the boy must have seen the murderer go into my wife's room?" "We've elucidated that. The boy was washing pots the whole afternoon with one exception. Somewhere around half-past one--Emmott can't put it closer than that --he went up to the roof and was with you tor ten minutes--that's right, isn't it?" "Yes. I couldn't have told you the exact tune but it must have been about that." "Very good. Well, during that ten min- ^s, the boy, seizing his chance to be idle, strolled out and joined the others outside the gate for a chat. When Emmott came down e ound the boy absent and called him an- Yi asking him what he meant by leaving nls Worl^ A c t t ^ ,il\ As tar as I can see, your wife must ^_ een murdered during that ten minutes." 1 With a groan. Dr. Leidner sat down and hid his face in his hands. Dr. Reilly took up the tale, his voice qui' and matter-of-fact. "The time fits in with my evidence," he said. "She'd been dead about three hours when I examined her. The only question is --who did it?" There was a silence. Dr. Leidner sat up in his chair and passed a hand over his forehead. "I admit the force of your reasoning, Reilly," he said quietly. "It certainly seems as though it were what people call 'an inside job.' But I feel convinced that somewhere or other there is a mistake. It's plausible but there must be a flaw in it. To begin with, you are assuming that an amazing coincidence has occurred." "Odd that you should use that word," said Dr. Reilly. Without paying any attention Dr. Leidner went on: "My wife receives threatening letters. She has reason to fear a certain person. Then she is--killed. And you ask me to believe that she is killed--not by that person--but by some one entirely different! I say that th^ is ridiculous." It seems so--yes," said Dr. Reilly med- lta looked at Captain Maitland. "Coincidence--eh? What do you say, Mait- i a~> Are you in favour of the idea? Shall land- pounds \iv J , ., .„ we put it up to Leidner? Captain Maitland gave a nod. "Go ahead," he said shortly. "Have you ever heard of a man called Hercule Poirot, Leidner?" Dr. Leidner stared at him, puzzled. "I think I have heard the name, yes," he said vaguely. "I once heard a Mr. Van Aldin speak of him in very high terms. He is a private detective, is he not?" ' "That's the man." "But surely he lives in London, so how will that help us?" "He lives in London, true," said Dr. Reilly, "but this is where the coincidence ^omes in. He is now, not in London, but in ^yna, and he will actually pass through Hassameh on his way to Baghdad tomorrow!" Who told you this?" Jean Berat, the French consul. He dined . n us last night and was talking about him. ^ eems he has been disentangling some mil- V scandal in Syria. He's coming through e to .visit Baghdad, and afterwards re 1, turning through Syria to London. Ho\v' that for a coincidence?" Dr. Leidner hesitated a moment anc looked apologetically at Captain Maitland. "What do you think. Captain Maitland?" "Should welcome co-operation," said Captain Maitland promptly. "My fellows are good scouts at scouring the countryside and investigating Arab blood feuds, but frankly Leidner 5 this business of your wife's seems to me rather out of my class. The whole thing looks confoundedly fishy. I'm more than willing to have the fellow take a look at the case." "You suggest that I should appeal to this man Poirot to help us?" said Dr. Leidner. "And suppose he refuses?" "He won't refuse," said Dr. Reilly. Ji "How do you know?" "Because I'm a professional man myself. If a really intricate case of say--cerebrol spinal meningitis comes my way and I'm invited to take a hand, I shouldn't be able to refuse. This isn't an ordinary crime, Leidner. "No," said Dr. Leidner. His lips twitched with sudden pain. "Will you then, Reilly, approach this H^' cule Poirot on my behalf?" "I will." ' Leidner made a gesture of thanks. "Even now," he said slowly, "I can't re. ^_that Louise is really dead." a \ could bear it no longer. "Oh! Dr. Leidner," I burst out. "I --I an't tell you how badly I feel about this. I've failed so badly in my duty. It was my job to watch over Mrs. Leidner--to keep er from harm." 1 Dr. Leidner shook his head gravely. "No, no, nurse, you've nothing to reproach yourself with," he said slowly. "It's /, God forgive me, who am to blame. ... I didn't believe--all along I didn't believe . . . I didn't dream for one moment that there was any real danger. ..." He got up. His face twitched. "Z let her go to her death. . . . Yes, I let her go to her death--not believing--" He staggered out of the room. Dr. Reilly looked at me. .1 feel pretty culpable too," he said. "I "^ught the good lady was playing oin his nerves." ^ ^ b 1 didn't take it really seriously eitlner" I ^nfessed. n.^ were all three wrong," said Dr. ^ty gravely. "_ seems," said Captain Maitlamd. i >'» Chapter 13 Hercule Poirot Arrives I don't think I shall ever forget my first sight of Hercule Poirot. Of course, I got used to him later on, but to begin with it was a shock, and I think every one else must have felt the same! I don't know what I'd imagined--something rather like Sherlock Holmes--long and lean with a keen, clever face. Of course, I knew he was a foreigner, but I hadn't expected him to be quite as foreign as he was, if you know what I mean. When you saw him you just wanted to s laugh! He was like something on the stage or at the pictures. To begin with, he wasn t above five foot five, I should think--an odd plump little man, quite old, with an enormous moustache, and a head like an egg. ne looked like a hairdresser in a comic play- And this was the man who was going t0^ find out who killed Mrs. Leidner! T suppos6 something of my disgust must shown in my face, for almost straighthe said to me with a queer kind of twinkle: "You disapprove of me, ma soeurp Remember, the pudding proves itself only when you eat it." The proof of the pudding's in the eating, I suppose he meant. Well, that's a true enough saying, but I couldn't say I felt much confidence myself! Dr. Reilly brought him out in his car soon after lunch on Sunday, and his first procedure was to ask us all to assemble together. We did so in the dining-room, all sitting round the table. Mr. Poirot sat at the head of it with Dr. Leidner one side and Dr. Reilly the other. When we were all assembled. Dr. Leidner cleared his throat and spoke in his gentle, hesitating voice. *I dare say you have all heard of M. Her^e Poirot. He was passing through Has- ^nieh to-day, and has very kindly agreed to I reak ^s journey to help us. The Iraq police . Captain Maitland are, I am sure, doing lr ^ry best, but--but there are circum- ^lces_n the case"--he floundered and shot 1 nc 1, an appealing glance at Dr. Reilly--"there may, it seems, be difficulties. ..." "It is not all the square and overboard--. no?" said the little man at the top of the table. Why, he couldn't even speak English properly! "Oh, he must be caught!" cried Mrs. Mercado. "It would be unbearable if he got away!" I noticed the little foreigner's eyes rest on her appraisingly. "He? Who is he, madame?" he asked. "Why, the murderer, of course." "Ah! the murderer," said Hercule Poirot. He spoke as though the murderer was of no consequence at all! We all stared at him. He looked from one face to another. "It is likely, I think," he said, "that you have none of you been brought in contact with a case of murder before?" B There was a general murmur of assent. Hercule Poirot smiled. "It is clear, therefore, that you do not understand the A.B.C. of the position. There are unpleasantnesses! Yes, there are a lot oi unpleasantnesses. To begin with, there 1s suspicion." "Suspicion?" Tr was Miss Johnson who spoke. Mr. " ^t looked at her thoughtfully. I had an 1 ^t he regarded her with approval. He looked as though he were thinking, "Here is a sensible, intelligent person!" "Yes mademoiselle," he said. "Suspirion' Let us not make the bones about it. You are all under suspicion here in this house. The cook, the house-boy, the scullion, the pot-boy--yes, and all the members of the expedition too." Mrs. Mercado started up, her face working. "How dare you? How dare you say such a thing! This is odious--unbearable! Dr. Leidner--you can't sit here and let this man--and let this man--" Dr. Leidner said wearily: "Please try and be calm, Marie." Mr. Mercado stood up too. His hands were shaking and his eyes were bloodshot. 'I agree. It is an outrage--an insult--" | "No, no," said Mr. Poirot. "I do not insult you. I merely ask you all to face facts. n a house where murder has been committed, ery. ^mate comes in for a certain share of Picion. I ask you what evidence is there - Ti1^ mur^erer came from outside at all?" Mrs- Mercado cried: 1)'7 "But of course he did! It stands to reason 1 Why--" She stopped and said more slowly "Anything else would be incredible!" "You are doubtless correct, madame " said Poirot with a bow. "I explain to you only how the matter must be approached First I assure myself of the fact that every one in this room is innocent. After that I seek the murderer elsewhere." "Is it not possible that that may be a little late in the day?" asked Father Lavigny suavely. "The tortoise, mon pere, overtook the hare." Father Lavigny shrugged his shoulders. "We are in your hands," he said resignedly. "Convince yourself as soon as may be of our innocence in this terrible business." "As rapidly as possible. It was my duty to make the position clear to you, so that you may not resent the impertinence of any questions I may have to ask. Perhaps, mon pere, the Church will set an example?" ^ "Ask any questions you please of in0? said Father Lavigny gravely. "This is your first season out here?' "Yes." "And you arrived--when?" 'r "'Three weeks ago almost to a day. That • nn the 27th of February." IS? -' c •\ff "Coming trom.^ "The Order of the Peres Blancs at Carthage." , ^- w/ "Thank you, mon pere. Were you at any time acquainted with Mrs. Leidner before coming here?" "No, I had never seen the lady until I met her here." "Will you tell me what you were doing at the time of the tragedy?" "I was working on some cuneiform tablets in my own room." I noticed that Poirot had at his elbow a rough plan of the building. "That is the room at the south-west corner corresponding to that of Mrs. Leidner on the opposite side?" "Yes." At what time did you go to your room?" "Immediately after lunch. I should say at about twenty minutes to one." ^And you remained there until—when?" Just before three o'clock. I had heard the ^tion wagon come back—and then I heard ^ve off again. I wondered why, and came °m to see." i ^>n 1 "During the time that you were there did1 you leave the room at all?" half-past oner' "Tr must have been about that time-- ves." She reflected a minute. "That would fit in," said Poirot thoughtfully. "You heard nothing else--the opening or shutting of a door, for instance?" Miss Johnson shook her head. "No, I do not remember anything of that kind." "You were sitting at a table, I presume. Which way were you facing? The courtyard? The antika-room? The verandah? Or the lopen countryside?" "I was facing the courtyard." "Could you see the boy Abdullah washing pots from where you were?" "Oh, yes, if I looked up, but of course, I was very intent on what I was doing. All my attention was on that." 11 ^y one had passed the courtyard win- "ow though, you would have noticed it?" 0113 yes' I aln almost sure of that." ^nd nobody did so?" | No." «p the ^ ^ any one ^ac^ ^^^ say? a^oss ^uM11^10 ^the courtyard, would you have "^d that?" "I think—probably not—unless, as I ^ before, I had happened to look up and our of the window." "You did not notice the boy Abdullah leave his work and go out to join the other servants?" "No." "Ten minutes," mused Poirot. "That fatal ten minutes." There was a momentary silence. Miss Johnson lifted her head suddenly and" said: r "You know, M. Poirot, I think I have unintentionally misled you. On thinking it over, I do not believe that I could possibly have heard any cry uttered in Mrs. Leidner's room from where I was. The antika-room | lay between me and her—and I understanc_ her windows were found closed." L "In any case, do not distress yourself, nia-^ demoiselle," said Poirot kindly. "It is not really of much importance." • "No, of course not. I understand that. Bu1 you see, it is of importance to me, because I feel I might have done something." . "Don't distress yourself, dear Anne," ^a Dr. Leidner with affection. "You must b^ sensible. What you heard was probably (n- 1-a.vling to another some distance away . ^e fields." Miss Johnson flushed a little at the kind TLess of his tone. I even saw tears spring to B . gygs. She turned her head away and srwke even more gruffly than usual. "probably was. Usual thing after a ^ggdy-- start imagining things that aren't so at all." Poirot was once more consulting his note^book. u "I do not suppose there is much more to be said. Mr. Carey?" Richard Carey spoke slowly--in a wooden, mechanical manner. "I'm afraid I can add nothing helpful. I was on duty at the dig. The news was brought to me there." i "And you know or can think of nothing helpful that occurred in the days immediately preceding the murder?" "Nothing at all." ^r. Coleman?" ^ ^as right out of the whole thing," said ^r- ^oleman with--was it just a shade of ye^'^111 his tone' (<1 went int0 Hassanieh erday morning to get the money for the "^ages. When I came back Emmott told me what had happened and I went baoV in the bus to get the police and Dr. Reilly » "And beforehand?" "Well, sir, things were a bit jumpy--.^m you know that already. There was the ami. ka-room scare and one or two before that --hands and faces at the window--you remember, sir," he appealed to Dr. Leidner who bent his head in assent. "I think, you know, that you'll find some Johnny did get in from outside. Must have been an artful sort of beggar." Poirot considered him for a minute or two in silence. "You are an Englishman, Mr. Coleman?« he asked at last. | "That's right, sir. All British. See _ trademark. Guaranteed genuine." * "This is your first season?" "Quite right." m "And you are passionately keen o111 archaeology?" This description of himself seemed to cause Mr. Coleman some embarrassmen1. He got rather pink and shot the side look ° a guilty schoolboy at Dr. Leidner. ^ "Of course--it's all very interesting?' stammered. "I mean--I'm not exactly _ brainy chap ..." t-t broke off rather lamely. Poirot did not lnslsp tapped thoughtfully on the table with the end of his pencil and carefully straight- ed an inkpot that stood in front of him. "It seems then," he said, "that that is as near as we can get for the moment. If any one of you thinks of something that has for the time being slipped his or her memory do not hesitate to come to me with it. It will be well now, I think, for me to have a few words alone with Dr. Leidner and Dr. Reilly." It was the signal for a breaking up of the party. We all rose and filed out of the door. When I was half-way out, however, a voice recalled me. "Perhaps," said Mr. Poirot, "Nurse Leatheran will be so kind as to remain. I think her assistance will be valuable to us." I came back and resumed my seat at the table. ^, Chapter 15 Po/rot Makes a Suggestion dr. reilly had risen from his seat. When every one had gone out he carefully closed the door. Then, with an inquiring glance at I Poirot, he proceeded to shut the window giv- * ing on the courtyard. The others were already shut. Then he, too, resumed his seat B at the table. | "Bien!" said Poirot. "We are now private and undisturbed. We can speak freely. We have heard what the members of the expedition have to tell us and-- But yes, ma soeur, what is it that you think?" I got rather red. There was no denying that the queer little man had sharp eyes. He'd seen the thought passing through my mind--I suppose my face had shown a b_ too clearly what I was thinking! I "Oh, it's nothing--" I said, hesitating" "Come on, nurse," said Dr. R^'. "Don't keep the specialist waiting." | n's nothing really,'51 said hurriedly. "It just passed through my mind, so to on l- that perhaps even if any one did know ^Tuspect something it wouldn't be easy to g if out in front of everybody else--or even, perhaps, in front of Dr. Leidner." Rather to my astonishment, M. Poirot nodded his head in vigorous agreement. "precisely. Precisely. It is very just what Mi say there. But I will explain. That little reunion we have just had--it served a purpose. In England before the races you have a parade of the horses, do you not? They go in front of the grandstand so that every one may have an opportunity of seeing and judging them. That is the purpose of my little assembly. In the sporting phrase, I run my eye over the possible starters." Dr. Leidner cried out violently, "I do not believe for one minute that any member of "^ expedition is implicated in this crime!" . ^hen, turning to me, he said authoritatively: Nurse, I should be much obliged if you ^°uid tell M. Poirot here and now exactly dav passe<^ between my wife and you two I -pi ^°- ' |^y us ^ged, I plunged straightaway into ^^^a trying as far as possible to recall the exact words and phrases Mrs. Leidn ^T" had used. r^! When I had finished, M. Poirot said: ^^ } "Very good. Very good. You have the [ mind neat and orderly. You will be of grear service to me here." f He turned to Dr. Leidner. "You have these letters?" I g "I have them here. I thought that you g would want to see them first thing." _ --\ Poirot took them from him, read them^B^ and scrutinized them carefully as he did so. I I was rather disappointed that he didn't dust I powder over them or examine them with a i microscope or anything like that--but 1 re-1 c alized that he wasn't a very young man and I i that his methods were probably not very up I to date. He just read them in the way that j. any one might read a letter. I Having read them he put them down ai_B r cleared his throat. m l "Now," he said, "let us proceed to get our ^ facts clear and in order. The first of these letters was received by your wife shortly ai^ her marriage to you in America. There n8 been others but these she destroyed. in first letter was followed by a second. A we. short time after the second arrived you D0 had a near escape from coal gas poison111 then came abroad and for nearly two ^ou no further letters were received. They 7ears^ again at the beginning of your season ltar ,^ar---that is to ^y3 ^hin the ^ast three 5. That is correct?" "Absolutely. "Your wife displayed every sign of panic md, after consulting Dr. Reilly, you enraged Nurse Leatheran here to keep your vife company and allay her fears?" "Yes." "Certain incidents occurred--hands tap)ing at the window--a spectral face--noises n the antika-room. You did not witness any of these phenomena yourself?" » "No." "In fact nobody did except Mrs. Leidler?" 'Father Lavigny saw a light in the antikaoom." "Yes, I have not forgotten that." He was silent for a minute or two, then ^ said: ^ad your wife made a will?" 1 do not think so." ^hy was that?' <(] "^ '(i ^y - ------ fc,AA»*l. r did not seem worth it from her point >1 vie\v." ^_e not a wealthy woman?" "Yes, during her lifetime. Her father W her a considerable sum of money in trim She could not touch the principal. At hp death it was to pass to any children she might have--and failing children to the Pittstown Museum." Poirot drummed thoughtfully on the ta ble. "Then we can, I think," he said, "elim. inate one motive from the case. It is, you comprehend, what I look for first. Who benefits by the deceased's death? In this case it is a museum. Had it been otherwise, had Mrs. Leidner died intestate but possessed of a considerable fortune, I should imagine that it would prove an interesting question as to who inherited the money--you--or a former husband. But there would have been this difficulty, the former husband would have had to resurrect himself in order to claim it, and I should imagine that he woulo then be in danger of arrest, though I hardly fancy that the death penalty would be exacted so long after the war. However, these speculations need not arise. As I say, I setu first the question of money. For the next st^ I proceed always to suspect the husband wife of the deceased! In this case, in the t1 place, you are proved never to have g° ^^ vnur wife55 room yesterday afternoon, nea^ second place, you lose instead of gain ^vour wife's death, and in the third oy j ,, v-—^ place— He paused. "Yes?" said Dr. Leidner. "In the third place," said Poirot slowly. "I can I think, appreciate devotion when I see it. I believe. Dr. Leidner, that your love for your wife was the ruling passion of your life. It is so, is it not?" Dr. Leidner answered quite simply: "Yes." Poirot nodded. "Therefore," he said, "we can proceed." "Hear, hear, let's get down to it," said Dr. Reilly with some impatience. Poirot gave him a reproving glance. "My friend, do not be impatient. In a case like this everything must be approached with °rder and method. In fact, that is my rule in every case. Having disposed of certain P°ssibilities, we now approach a very imponant point. It is vital that, as you say— a11 the cards should be on the table—there ustbe nothing kept back." Jj^te so," said Dr. Reilly. ^hat is why I demand the whole truth," went Qn Poirot. i<;<; Dr. Leidner looked at him in surprise "I assure you, M. Poirot, that I have ken7 nothing back. I have told you everything that I know. There have been no reserves." "Tout de meme, you have not told me everything." 4'Yes 5 indeed. I cannot think of any detail that has escaped me." He looked quite distressed. Poirot shook his head gently. "No," he said. "You ham not told me, for instance, why you installed Nurse Leatheran in the house." Dr. Leidner looked completely bewildered. "But I have explained that. It is obvious. My wife's nervousness--her fears ..." Poirot leaned forward. Slowly and emphatically he wagged a finger up and down. "No, no, no. There is something there that is not clear. Your wife is in danger? yes--she is threatened with death, yes. You send--not for the police--not for a private detective even--but for a nurse! It does nomake the sense, that!" "I--I--" Dr. Leidner stopped. The^ colour rose in his cheeks. "I thought--" r1 came to a dead stop. ^^Lw we are coming to it," Poirot enr^iraged him. "You thought--what?" ^n Leidner remained silent. He looked harassed and unwilling. --^See you," Poirot's tone became winning I 'd appealing, "it all rings true what you have told me, except for that. Why a nurse? There is an answer--yes. In fact, there can be only one answer. You did not believe yourself in your wife's danger." And then with a cry Dr. Leidner broke | down. "God help me," he groaned. "I didn't. I didn't." Poirot watched him with the kind of attention a cat gives a mouse-hole--ready to pounce when the mouse shows itself. "What did you think then?" he asked. _I don't know. I don't know ..." 'But you do know. You know perfectly. Perhaps I can help you--with a guess. Did you, Dr. Leidner, suspect that these letters were ^Wtten by your wife herself?" 1 here wasn't any need for him to answer. e truth of Poirot's guess was only too ap- th^L' The horrifled hand he held ^ as _igh begging for mercy, told its own tale. T1 arew a deep breath. So I had been right ^^^^If-formed guess! I recalled the cu1<;7 T rious tone in which Dr. Leidner had ask me what I thought of it all. I nodded m head slowly and thoughtfully, and suddeni awoke to the fact that M. Poirofs eyes \ver on me. "Did you think the same, nurse?55 "The idea did cross my mind,55 I sai truthfully. "For what reason?55 I explained the similarity of the hanc writing on the letter that Mr. Coleman ha shown me. Poirot turned to mr. Leidner. "Had you, too, noticed that similarity?' Dr. Leidner bowed his head. "Yes, I did. The writing was small an cramped--not big and generous lik Louise^, but several of the letters wer ' i formed the same way. I will show you.55 I From an inner breast pocket he took 01 some letters and finally selected a sheet froi one which he handed to Poirot. It was pai of a letter written to him by his wife. Poi^ compared it carefully with the anonymou letters. "Yes,55 he murmured. "Yes. There ai several similarities--a curious way of fo^ ing the letter s, a distinctive e. I am not handwriting expert--I cannot pronoun 1 co R 3 : .r ^^telv (anc^ ^or ^^ matter? ^ have never cie i ^vo handwriting experts who agree on noint whatsoever)--but one can at least this_tn^ similarity between the two ^writings is very marked. It seems highly nrobable that they were all written by the ame person. But it is not certain. We must take all contingencies into mind." He leaned back in his chair and said thoughtfully: "There are three possibilities. First, the similarity of the handwriting is pure coincidence. Second, that these threatening letters were written by Mrs. Leidner herself for some obscure reason. Third, that they were written by someone who deliberately copied her handwriting. Why? There seems no sense in it. One of these three possibilities must be the correct one." He reflected for a minute or two and then, turning to Dr. Leidner, he asked, with a ^symal of his brisk manner. 'When the possibility that Mrs. Leidner ^elf was the author of these letters first struck you, what theory did you form?" Dr- Leidner shook his head. as put ^ ^^ out °^ m^ ^ea^ as ^i^ly Possible. I felt it was monstrous." T;Q "Did you search for no explanation?" "Well," he hesitated, "I wondered if^or. rying and brooding over the past had per. haps affected my wife's brain slightly. t thought she might possibly have written those letters to herself without being conscious of having done so. That is possible isn't it?" he added, turning to Dr. Reilly. Dr. Reilly pursed up his lips. "The human brain is capable of almost" anything," he replied vaguely. | But he shot a lightning glance at Poirot? and as if in obedience to it, the latter abandoned the subject. I "The letters are an interesting point," he said. "But we must concentrate on the case as a whole. There are, as I see it, three possible solutions." "Three?" "Yes. Solution one: the simplest. Your wife's first husband is still alive. He first threatens her and then proceeds to carry out his threats. If we accept this solution, our problem is to discover how he got in or ou without being seen. "Solution two: Mrs. Leidner, for reasons - .\\J of her own (reasons probably more ^S11J understood by a medical man than a 1^ r ^" ^tes herself threatening letters. The 111 business is staged by her (remember, it gas she who roused you by telling you she wa ir eas. But, if Mrs. Leidner wrote herself srn ]^ers, she cannot be in danger from the opposed 'writer. We must, therefore, look elsewhere for the murderer. We must look, in fact, amongst the members of your staff. Yes " in answer to a murmur of protest from Dr. Leidner, "that is the only logical conclusion. To satisfy a private grudge one of them killed her. That person, I may say, was probably aware of the letters--or was at any rate aware that Mrs. Leidner feared or was pretending to fear some one. That fact, in the murderer's opinion, rendered the murder quite safe for him. He felt sure it would be put down to a mysterious outsider--the writer of the threatening letters. 'A variant of this solution is that the mur- ^rer actually wrote the letters himself, ^ing aware of Mrs. Leidner's past history. "^ in that case it is not quite clear why the ^inunal should have copied Mrs. Leidner's .wn ^ndwriting since, as far as we can see, 11^011^13e more to his or her advantage that I ^y u^ appear to be written by an out- "Tk ^ne third solution is the most interesting 1^1 ^ to my mind. I suggest that the letters ar genuine. They are written by Mrs. Leidner^ first husband (or his younger brother), ^ is actually one of the expedition staff." Chapter 16 The Suspects dr. leidner sprang to his feet. "Impossible! Absolutely impossible! The idea is absurd!" Mr. Poirot looked at him quite calmly but said nothing. "You mean to suggest that my wife's former husband is one of the expedition and that she didn't recognize him?" "Exactly. Reflect a little on the facts. Nearly twenty years ago your wife lived with this man for a few months. Would she know him if she came across him after that lapse of time? I think not. His face will have banged, his build will have changed--his olce "^ay not have changed so much, but w is a detail he can attend to himself. And | l ^ber, she is not looking for him amongst sc^ own }lousen0^. She visualizes him as thiT^^ outside--a stranger. No, I do not B ^e would recognize him. And there 1^ T is a second possibility. The young brothp --the child of those days who was so pao sionately devoted to his elder brother. He is now a man. Will she recognize a child often or twelve years old in a man nearing thirty^ Yes, there is young William Bosner to bel reckoned with. Remember, his brother iiJ his eyes may not loom as a traitor but as a patriot, a martyr for his own country--Germany. In his eyes Mrs. Leidner is the traitor--the monster who sent his beloved brother to death! A susceptible child is capable of great hero worship, and a young mind can easily be obsessed by an idea which persists into adult life." "Quite true," said Dr. Reilly. "The popular view that a child forgets easily is not an accurate one. Many people go right through life in the grip of an idea which has been impressed on them in very tender years." | "Bien. You have these two possibilities. Frederick Bosner, a man by now of fifty odd, and William Bosner, whose age would be something short of thirty. Let us examine the members of your staff from these two points of view." "This is fantastic," murmured Dr. Leid' ner. "My staff The members of my o^ expedition." H i ^ a ^B Jl^l a d consequently considered above sus. - n' said Poirot dryly. "A very useful P101 ^ view. CommenQons! Who could em- ^adcally not be Frederick or William?" pliai-^1-.^ „ "The women. J » y " "I Naturally. Miss Johnson and Mrs. Mercado are crossed off. Who else?" "Carey. He and I have worked together for years before I even met Louise--" "And also he is the wrong age. He is, I should judge, thirty-eight or nine, too young for Frederick, too old for William. Now for the rest. There is Father Lavigny and Mr. Mercado. Either of them might be Frederick Bosner." "But, my dear sir," cried Dr. Leidner in a voice of mingled irritation and amusement, "Father Lavigny is known all over the world as an epigraphist and Mercado has worked for years in a well-known museum in New York. It is impossible that either of them should be the man you think!" gPoirot waved an airy hand. Impossible--impossible--I take no ac- ^°unt of the word! The impossible, always ^ Famine it very closely! But we will pass He - the "^ment. Who else have you? Carl Da\ ^ a ^^S man wltn a German name, dvlci Bnimon--" i^<; "He has been with me two seasons member." "He is a young man with the gift of ? tience. If he committed a crime, it wouk not be in a hurry. All would be very wel prepared." Dr. Leidner made a gesture of despair. "And lastly, William Coleman," contin ued Poirot. "He is an Englishman." "Pourquoi pas? Did not Mrs. Leidner sa^ that the boy left America and could not b( traced? He might easily have been brough up in England." "You have an answer to everything," sak Dr. Leidner. I I was thinking hard. Right from the be ginning I had thought Mr. Coleman's man ner rather more like a P. G. Wodehouse boot than like a real live young man. Had he really been playing a part all the time? | Poirot was writing in a little book. B "Let us proceed with order and method| he said. "On the first count we have tw( names. Father Lavigny and Mr. Mercado On the second we have Coleman, Emu101 and Reiter. . "Now let us pass to the opposite aspe01'•° the matter—means and opportunity. w •J& ^^* . ^ expedition had the means and the arn0 rtunity of committing the crime? Carey was rhe dig? Coleman was in Hassanieh, you on rself were on the roof. That leaves us ^ther Lavigny, Mr. Mercado, Mrs. Merfldo David Emmott, Carl Reiter, Miss Tohnson and Nurse Leatheran." "Oh!" I exclaimed, and I bounded in my chair. II Mr. Poirot looked at me with twinkling eyes. • "Yes, I'm afraid, ma soeur, that you have got to be included. It would have been quite easy for you to have gone along and killed Mrs. Leidner while the courtyard was empty. You have plenty of muscle and strength, and she would have been quite unsuspicious until the moment the blow was struck." I was so upset that I couldn't get a word °ut. Dr. Reilly, I noticed, was looking highly amused. Interesting case of a nurse who murdered ner Patients one by one," he murmured. ^ch a look as I gave him! a ..^ Leidner's mind had been running on ^renttack. ^ ^t Emmott, M. Poirot," he objected. ^—^'t include him. He was on the roof with me, remember, during that ten mi utes." , n! "Nevertheless we cannot exclude him. H ^ could have come down, gone straight to Mrs! Leidner's room, killed her, and then called the boy back. Or he might have killed her on one of the occasions when he had sent the boy up to you." Dr. Leidner shook his head, murmuring" "What a nightmare! It's all so--fantas tic." To my surprise Poirot agreed. "Yes, that is true. This is a fantastic crime. One does not often come across them. Usually murder is very sordid--very simple. But this is unusual murder ... I suspect, Dr. Leidner, that your wife was an unusual woman." He had hit the nail on the head with such accuracy that I jumped. "Is that true, nurse?" he asked. B Dr. Leidner said quietly: "Tell him what Louise was like, nurse. You are unprejudiced." I spoke quite frankly. "She was very lovely," I said. "you couldn't help admiring her and wanting to do things for her. I've never met any op like her before." Thank yo11?" sal(^ ^)r- Leidner and Smiled at me. . . "That is valuable testimony coming from outsider," said Poirot politely. "Well, let an nroceed. Under the heading of means and u'rtunity we have seven names. Nurse Leatheran, Miss Johnson, Mrs. Mercado, Mr. Mercado, Mr. Reiter, Mr. Emmott and Father Lavigny." Once more he cleared his throat. I've always noticed that foreigners can make the oddest noises. "Let us for the moment assume that our third theory is correct. That is, that the murderer is Frederick or William Bosner, and that Frederick or William Bosner is a member of the expedition staff. By comparing both lists we can narrow down our suspects on this count to four. Father Lavigny, Mr. Mercado, Carl Reiter and David Emmott." 'Father Lavigny is out of the question," said Dr. Leidner with decision. "He is one otUie peres Blancs in Carthage." And his beard's quite real," I put in. thef soeur9f) said poirot' < ^h being passed the toast and the peanut fitter, she wanted you to turn your mind nd soul inside out for her to look at it." "And if one did not give her that satisfaction?" asked Poirot. "Then she could turn ugly!" I saw his lips close resolutely and his jaws set. "I suppose, Mr. Emmott, you would not care to express a plain unofficial opinion as to who murdered her?" "I don't know," said Emmott. "I really haven't the slightest idea. I rather think that, if I'd been Carl--Carl Reiter, I mean--I would have had a shot at murdering her. She was a pretty fair devil to him. But, of course, he asks for it by being so darned sensitive. Just invites you to give him a kick in the pants." "And did Mrs. Leidner give him--a kick in the pants?" inquired Poirot. Emmott gave a sudden grin. | "No. Pretty little jabs with an embroidery needle--that was her method. He was irriiating, of course. Just like some blubbering, Poor-spirited kid. But a needle's a painful .weapon.?? stole a glance at Poirot and thought I ^^--d a slight quiver of his lips. -»£-r "But you don't really believe that Carl Reiter killed her?" he asked. "No. I don't believe you'd kill a woman because she persistently made you look a fool at every meal." Poirot shook his head thoughtfully. Of course, Mr. Emmott made Mrs. Leidner sound quite inhuman. There was something to be said on the other side too. There had been something terribly irritating about Mr. Reiter's attitude. He jumped when she spoke to him, and did idiotic things like passing her the marmalade again and again when he knew she never ate it. I'd have felt inclined to snap at him a bit myself. Men don't understand how their mannerisms can get on women's nerves so that you feel you just have to snap. I thought I'd just mention that to Mr. Poirot some time. We had arrived back by now and Mr. Emmott offered Poirot a wash and took him into his room. I hurried across the courtyard to mine. I came out again about the same time they did and we were all making for the ^^ room when Father Lavigny appeared in tn doorway of his room and invited Poirot i_f" '-»c' r ur Enimott came on round and he and went into the dining-room together. Miss t hnson and Mrs. Mercado were there al- adv an(^ a^ter a ^ew mmutes ^r- Mercado 5 ur Reiter and Bill Coleman joined us. V^e were just sitting down and Mercado had told the Arab boy to tell Father Lavigny lunch was ready when we were all startled by a faint, muffled cry. I i suppose our nerves weren't very good yet, for we all jumped, and Miss Johnson got quite pale and said: "What was that? What's happened?" Mrs. Mercado stared at her and said: "My dear, what is the matter with you? It's some noise outside in the fields." But at that minute Poirot and Father Lavigny came in. "We thought some one was hurt," Miss Johnson said. 'A thousand pardons, mademoiselle," ^ied Poirot. "The fault is mine. Father La^gny, he explains to me some tablets, and fake one to the window to see better—and, aJ01' not looking where I was going, I steb etoe3 an(! the pain is sharp for the moment • IL^out." ^ we thought it was ano ———^rcado, laughing. another murder " said •^c'~i 1 "Marie!" said her husband. His tone was reproachful and she flushed and bit her lip. Miss Johnson hastily turned the conversation to the dig and what objects of interest had turned up that morning. Conversation all through lunch was sternly archaeological I think we all felt it was the safest thing. After we had had coffee we adjourned to the living-room. Then the men, with the exception of Father Lavigny 3 went off to the dig again. Father Lavigny took Poirot through into the antika-room and I went with them. I was getting to know the things pretty well by now and I felt a thrill of pride--almost as though it were my own property--when Father La- vigny took down the gold cup and I heard Poirot's exclamation of admiration and pleasure. "How beautiful! What a work of art!" Father Lavigny agreed eagerly and began to point out its beauties with real enthusiasm and knowledge. "No wax on it to-day," I said. "Wax?" Poirot stared at me. "Wax?" So did Father Lavigny. I explained my remark. «Ah,./^ comprends," said Father Lavigny. "Yes, yes, candle grease." That led direct to the subject of the midnight visitor. Forgetting my presence they both dropped into French and I left them together and went back into the living-room. Mrs. Mercado was darning her husband's socks and Miss Johnson was reading a book. Rather an unusual thing for her. She usually seemed to have something to work at. After a while Father Lavigny and Poirot came out, and the former excused himself on the score of work. Poirot sat down with us. "A most interesting man," he said, and asked how much work there had been for Father Lavigny to do so far. Miss Johnson explained that tablets had been scarce and that there had been very few inscribed bricks or cylinder seals. Father La- ^gny, however, had done his share of work °n the dig and was picking up colloquial Arabic very fast. that led the talk to cylinder seals, and Presently Miss Johnson fetched from a cup°ard a sheet of impressions made by rolling ^m out on plasticine. th rea^2ecl as we bent over them, admiring ^^{-pted designs, that these must be what ?^q she had been working at on that fatal after noon. As we talked I noticed that Poirot was rolling and kneading a little ball of plasticine between his fingers. "You use a lot of plasticine, mademoiselle?55 he asked. B "A fair amount. We seem to have got through a lot already this year--though I can5! imagine how. But half our supply seems to have gone.55 "Where is it kept, mademoiselle?55 "Here--in this cupboard.55 As she replaced the sheet of impressions she showed him the shelf with rolls of plasticine, Durofix, photographic paste and other stationery supplies. Poirot stooped down. "And this--what is this, mademoiselle?" He had slipped his hand right to the back and had brought out a curious crumpled object. As he straightened it out we could see that it was a kind of mask, with eyes and mouth crudely painted on in Indian ink and the whole thing roughly smeared with plasticine "How perfectly extraordinary,55 crle Miss Johnson. "Eve never seen it befor^ How did it get there? And what is it?55 ^^c\ ^^1 ((as to how it got there, well, one hiding1 ce is as good as another, and I presume P this cupboard would not have been irned out till the end of the season. As to ,vhat it is--that, too, I think, is not difficult ggv We have here the face that Mrs. Leidner described. The ghostly face seen in the semidusk outside her window--without body attached." Mrs. Mercado gave a little shriek. Miss Johnson was white to the lips. She murmured: "Then it was not fancy. It was a trick--a wicked trick! But who played it?" "Yes," cried Mrs. Mercado. "Who could have done such a wicked, wicked thing?" Poirot did not attempt a reply. His face was very grim as he went into the next room, returned with an empty cardboard box in his hand and put the crumpled mask into it. 'The police must see this," he explained. "It's horrible," said Miss Johnson in a low ^ice. "Horrible!" D0 you think everything's hidden here ^mewhere?55 cried Mrs. Mercado shrilly. ll ^ you t^111^ P^haps the weapon--the ub she was killed with--all covered with ^od still, perhaps ... Oh! I'm frighten------|p frightened ..." Miss Johnson gripped her by the should? I "Be quiet," she said fiercely. "Here's D Leidner. We mustn't upset him." Indeed, at that very moment the car had driven into the courtyard. Dr. Leidner gor out of it and came straight across and in ar the living-room door. His face was set in lines of fatigue and he looked twice the age he had three days ago. He said in a quiet voice: m "The funeral will be at eleven o'clock tomorrow. Major Deane will read the service." Mrs. Mercado faltered something, then slipped out of the room. Dr. Leidner said to Miss Johnson: "You'll come, Anne?" And she answered: "Of course, my dear, we'll all come. Naturally." She didn't say anything else, but her face must have expressed what her tongue was powerless to do, for his face lightened up with affection and a momentary ease. "Dear Anne," he said. "You are such a , wonderful comfort and help to me. My d^ old friend." , He laid his hand on her arm and I saw ^ red colour creep up in her face as she m ^ tered, gruff as ever: "That's all right." But I jt^ caught a glimpse of her expres- nn and knew that, for one short moment, Anne Johnson was a perfectly happy woman. And another idea flashed across my mind. Perhaps soon, in the natural course of things, turning to his old friend for sympathy, a new and happy state of things might come about. ^ „ Not that I'm really a matchmaker, and of ^ course it was indecent to think of such a thing before the funeral even. But after all, it would be a happy solution. He was very fond of her, and there was no doubt she was absolutely devoted to him and would be per- - fectly happy devoting the rest of her life to him. That is, if she could bear to hear Louise's perfections sung all the time. But women can put up with a lot when they've got what they want. Dr. Leidner then greeted Poirot, asking w1 if he had made any progress. Miss Johnson was standing behind Dr. ^idner and she looked hard at the box in oirot's hand and shook her head, and I re- t12^ ^lat sne was P^^g ^th Poirot not ^l him about the mask. She felt, I was l^ that he had enough to bear for one day. Poirot fell in with her wish. | "These things march slowly, monsieur " he said. Then, after a few desultory words, he took his leave. I accompanied him out to his car. There were half a dozen things I wanted^ to ask him, but somehow, when he turned and looked at me, I didn't ask anything after all. I'd as soon have asked a surgeon if he thought he'd made a good job of an operation. I just stood meekly waiting for instructions. Rather to my surprise he said: "Take care of yourself, my child." And then he added: "I wonder if it is well for you to remain here?" "I must speak to Dr. Leidner about leav^ ing," I said. "But I thought I'd wait until after the funeral." He nodded in approval. "In the meantime," he said, "do not try and find out too much. You understand, 1 do not want you to be clever!" And he added with a smile, "It is for you to hold the swa^s and for me to do the operation." ^ Wasn't it funny, his actually saying tb^ Then he said quite irrelevantly: An interesting man, that Father La55 "A monk being an archaeologist seems odd to me," I said. rilAh, yes 5 you are a Protestant. Me, I am "od Catholic. I know something of priests and monks." He frowned, seemed to hesitate, then said: "Remember, he is quite clever enough to turn you inside out if he likes." If he was warning me against gossiping I felt that I didn't need any such warning! ^ It annoyed me and though I didn't like to ask him any of the things I really wanted to know, I didn't see why I shouldn't at any rate say one thing. "You'll excuse me, M. Poirot," I said. "But it's 'stubbed your toe,' not stepped or stebbed." Ah? Thank you, ma soeur" Don't mention it. But it's just as well to g^a phrase right." k (c I will remember," he said--quite meekly ^r him. And he got in the car and was driven away, n l ^nt slowly back across the courtyard ^ering about a lot of things- About the hypodermic marks on Mr. Mer_8 arm, and what drug it was he took. -^^ c And about that horrid yellow smeared mask! And how odd it was that Poirot and Mis<; Johnson hadn't heard my cry in the living- room that morning, whereas we had all heard Poirot perfectly well in the dining-room at lunch time--and yet Father Lavigny's room and Mrs. Leidner's were just the same dis^ tance from the living-room and the dining? room respectively. And then I felt rather pleased that I'd taught Doctor Poirot one English phrase correctly! Even if he was a great detective he'd realize he didn't know everything! "r Chapter 23 / Co Psychic the funeral was, I thought, a very affecting affair. As well as ourselves, all the English people in Hassanieh attended it. Even Sheila Reilly was there looking quiet and subdued in a dark coat and skirt. I hoped that she was feeling a little remorseful for all the unkind things she had said. When we got back to the house I followed Dr. Leidner into the office and broached Ae subject of my departure. He was very nice about it, thanked me for what I had one (Done! I had been worse than useless) anu "misted on my accepting an extra week's [salary. J p ° ^protested because really I felt I'd done r^ to earn it. Indeed, Dr. Leidner, I'd rather not have Lrav^^ at alL If you?d just refund me my celling expenses that's all I want.' 5» U- he wouldn't hear of that. "You see,55 I said, "I don't feel I deserv it. Dr. Leidner. I mean, I've--well \\ failed. She--my coming didn't save her " "Now don't get that idea into your head nurse," he said earnestly. "After all, I didn'? engage you as a female detective. I never dreamt my wife's life was in danger. I \vas convinced it was all nerves and that she'd worked herself up into a rather curious mental state. You did all any one could do. She liked and trusted you. And I think in her last days she felt happier and safer because of your being here. There's nothing for you to reproach yourself with." His voice quivered a little and I knew what he was thinking. He was the one to blame for not having taken Mrs. Leidner's fears seriously. "Dr. Leidner," I said curiously. "Have you ever come to any conclusion about those anonymous letters?" He said with a sigh: "I don't know what to believe. Has^M. Poirot come to any definite conclusion? . "He hadn't yesterday," I said, steering rather neatly, I thought, between truth an fiction. After all, he hadn't until I told n^ about Miss Johnson. ^ It was on my mind that I'd like to g1 Leidner a hint and see if he reacted. In he pleasure of seeing him and Miss Johnson nsether the day before, and his affection and -eliance on her, I'd forgotten all about the etters. Even now I felt it was perhaps rather nean of me to bring it up. Even if she had written them, she had had a bad time after Mrs. Leidner's death. Yet I did want to see whether that particular possibility had ever entered Dr. Leidner's head. "Anonymous letters are usually the work lof a woman," I said. I wanted to see how he'd take it. "I suppose they are," he said with a sigh. "But you seem to forget, nurse, that these may be genuine. They may actually be written by Frederick Bosner." "No, I haven't forgotten," I said. "But I can't believe somehow that that's the real explanation." 'I do," he said. "It's all nonsense his ^ing one of the expedition staff. That is just ^ingenious theory ofM. Poirot's. I believe at the truth is much simpler. The man is r) fr^.*. i madman, of course. He's been hanging ^unu t^ place--perhaps in disguise of E^ ^nd. And somehow or other he got in ^nat fatal afternoon. The servants may be they may have been bribed." "I suppose it's possible," I said doubt fully. Dr. Leidner went on with a trace of irritability. "It is all very well for M. Poirot to suspect the members of my expedition. I am perfectly certain none of them have anything to do with it! I have worked with them. I knozo them!" He stopped suddenly, then he said: m "Is that your experience, nurse? That anonymous letters are usually written by women?" \ "It isn't always the case," I said. "But there's a certain type of feminine spitefulness that finds relief that way." "I suppose you are thinking of Mrs. Mercado?" he said. Then he shook his head. "Even if she were malicious enough to wish to hurt Louise she would hardly have the necessary knowledge," he said. I remembered the earlier letters in the attache-case. , If Mrs. Leidner had left that unlocked and Mrs. Mercado had been alone in the hou^ one day pottering about, she might easily have found them and read them. Men n^ aa seem to think of the simplest possibility' And apart from her there is only Miss Tohnson," I said, watching him. "That would be quite ridiculous!" The little smile with which he said it was uite conclusive. The idea of Miss Johnson being the author of the letters had never entered his head! I hesitated just for a minute--but I didn't say anything. One doesn't like giving away a fellow woman, and besides, I had been a witness of Miss Johnson's genuine and moving remorse. What was done was done. Why expose Dr. Leidner to a fresh disillusion on top of all his other troubles? It was arranged that I should leave on the following day, and I had arranged through Dr. Reilly to stay for a day or two with the matron of the hospital whilst I made arrangements for returning to England either via Baghdad or direct via Nissibin by car and train. Dr. Leidner was kind enough to say that e would like me to choose a memento from ^ongst his wife's things. °n, no, really, Dr. Leidner," I said. "I ^ouldn't. It's much too kind of you." iie insisted. But I should like you to have something. ^»Ti ^shedl And Louise, I am sure, would have it." Then he went on to suggest that I should have her tortoiseshell toilet set! "Oh, no. Dr. Leidner! Why, that's a most expensive set. I couldn't, really." "She had no sisters, you know—no one^ who wants these things. There is no one else to have them." I could quite imagine that he wouldn't^ want them to fall into Mrs. Mercado's greedy little hands. And I didn't think he'd want to offer them to Miss Johnson. He went on kindly: "You just think it over. By the way, here is the key of Louise's jewel case. Perhaps you will find something there you would rather have. And I should be very grateful if you would pack up—all—all her clothes? I dare say Reilly can find a use for them amongst some of the poor Christian famili^ in Hassanieh." I was very glad to be able to do that fo1' him, and I expressed my willingness. I set about it at once. , Mrs. Leidner had only had a very simp1 wardrobe with her and it was soon so!t^ i and packed up into a couple of suitcases. 1 her papers had been in the small attach I "fhe jewel case contained a few simple c nkets--a pearl ring, a diamond brooch, a mall string of pearls and one or two plain old bar brooches of the safety-pin type, and a string of large amber beads. Naturally I wasn't going to take the pearls or the diamonds, but I hesitated a bit between the amber beads and the toilet set. In the end, however, I didn't see why I shouldn't take the latter. It was a kindly thought on Dr. Leidner's part, and I was sure there wasn't any patronage about it. I'd take it in the spirit it had been offered without any false pride. After all, I had been fond of her. Well, that was all done and finished with. The suitcases packed, the jewel case locked up again and put separate to give to Dr. Leidner with the photograph of Mrs. Leidt^r's father and one or two other personal little odds and ends. i The room looked bare and forlorn emptied 01 all its accoutrements, when I'd finished. ^re was nothing more for me to do--and yet ^"lehow or other I shrank from leaving so roorn' ^ seemed as though there were ou"^1111^ still to d0 there-- something I jk, ^^ee--or something I ought to have v I'm not superstitious but the idea did pon into my head that perhaps Mrs. Leidner\ spirit was hanging about the room and trying to get in touch with me. I remember once at the hospital some of us girls got a planchette and really it wrote some very remarkable things. I Perhaps, although I'd never thought of such a thing, I might be mediumistic. As I say, one gets all worked up to imagine all sorts of foolishness sometimes. I prowled round the room uneasily, touching this and that. But, of course, there wasn't anything in the room but bare furniture. There was nothing slipped behind drawers or tucked away. I couldn't hope for anything of that kind. In the end (it sounds rather batty, but as I say, one gets worked up) I did rather a queer thing. I went and lay down on the bed and closedB my eyes. I deliberately tried to forget who and what I was. I tried to think myself back to that fatal afternoon. I was Mrs. Leidner ly111^ here resting, peaceful and unsuspicious. I It's extraordinary how you can work voi^ self up. ^ I'm a perfectly normal matter-oi-^ . ^{vidual--not the least little bit spooky, L ii I tell you tnat ^ter I'd I3111 there about five minutes I began to feel spooky. I didn't try to resist. I deliberately encouraged the feeling. I said to myself: "I'm Mrs. Leidner. I'm Mrs. Leidner. pm lying here--half asleep. Presently-- very soon now--the door's going to open." I kept on saying that--as though I were hypnotizing myself. It's just about half-past one . . . it's just about the time . . . The door is going to open . . . the door is going to open ... I shall see who comes in. ..." I kept my eyes glued on that door. Presently it was going to open. I should see it open. And I should see the person who opened it. I must have been a little over-wrought that ^ternoon to imagine I could solve the mys- ^fy that way. But I did believe it. A sort of chill passed j^own my back and settled in my legs. They r^tnumb--paralyzed. in '\1^ S^ng into a trance," I said. "And l^t trance you'll see ..." fc. ^ce again I repeated monotonously ^----nd again: "The door is going to open—the door I going to open ..." _ The cold numbed feeling grew more ' tense. And then, slowly, I saw the door just h ginning to open. It was horrible. I I've never known anything so horrih before or since. I was paralyzed—chilled through ari through. I couldn't move. For the life ofn I couldn't have moved. And I was terrified. Sick and blind ad dumb with terror. That slowly opening door. So noiseless. In a minute I should see ... Slowly—slowly—wider and wider. Bill Coleman came quietly in. He must have had the shock of his life I bounded off the bed with a screamf terror and hurled myself across the room He stood stock still, his blunt pink f^ pinker and his mouth opened wide with si prise. "Hallo-allo-allo," he said. "What's nurse?" I came back to reality with a crash. 'Goodness, Mr. Coleman," I said. "How you startled me!" "Sorry?55 he said with a momentary grin. t saw then that he was holding a little hunch of scarlet ranunculus in his hand. They were pretty little flowers and they grew wild on the sides of the Tell. Mrs. Leidner had been very fond of them. He blushed and got rather red as he said: "One can't get any flowers or things in Hassanieh. Seemed rather rotten not to have 1 any flowers for the grave. I thought I'd just nip in here and put a little posy in that little pot thing she always had flowers in on her table. Sort of show she wasn't forgotten-- eh? A bit asinine, I know, but--well--I mean to say--" I thought it was very nice of him. He was ^1 pink with embarrassment like Englishmen are when they've done anything senti"^ntal. I thought it was a very sweet Bought. Why, I think that's a very nice idea, Mr. Pieman," I said. | ^nd I picked up the little pot and went . §°t some water in it and we put the lowers in. --^ly thought much more of Mr. Cole- 1 man for this idea of his. It showed he had heart and nice feelings about things. He didn't ask me again what made me ler out such a squeal and I'm thankful he didn't I should have felt a fool explaining. "Stick to common sense in future woman," I said to myself as I settled im cuffs and smoothed my apron. "You're not cut out for this psychic stuff." I bustled about doing my own packing and kept myself busy for the rest of the day. Father Lavigny was kind enough to express great distress at my leaving. He said my cheerfulness and common sense had been such a help to everybody. Common sense! I'm glad he didn't know about my idiotic behaviour in Mrs. Leidner's room. "We have not seen M. Poirot to-day," he remarked. I told him that Poirot had said he was going to be busy all day sending off telegrams. Father Lavigny raised his eyebrows. "Telegrams? To America?" "I suppose so. He said 'All over the world!' but I think that was rather a foreig_ exaggeration." And then I got rather red, remember11,10 that Father Lavigny was a foreigner him^ - He didn't seem offended though, just ahed quite pleasantly and asked me if , p ^yere any news of the man with the squint- I said I didn't know but I hadn't heard of any. Father Lavigny asked me again about the time Mrs. Leidner and I had noticed the man and how he had seemed to be standing on tiptoe and peering through the window. "It seems clear the man had some overwhelming interest in Mrs. Leidner," he said thoughtfully. "I have wondered since whether the man could possibly have been a European got up to look like an Iraqi?" That was a new idea to me and I considered it carefully. I had taken it for granted that the man was a native, but of course, when I came to think of it, I was really going by the cut of his clothes and the yellowness of his skin. bather Lavigny declared his intention of S^ng round outside the house to the place w ere ^rs. Leidner and I had seen the man Ending "Yr» so never know, he might have dropped ,a_, etnlIlg. In the detective stories the crim- ,----^ays does." "I expect in real life criminals are nior careful," I said. I fetched some socks I had just finished darning and put them on the table in the living-room for the men to sort out when they came in, and then, as there was nothing much more to do, I went up on the roof. Miss Johnson was standing there but she didn't hear me. I got right up to her before she noticed me. But long before that I'd seen that there was something very wrong. She was standing in the middle of the roof staring straight in front of her, and there was the most awful look on her face. As though she'd seen something she couldn't possibly believe. It gave me quite a shock. Mind you, I'd seen her upset the other evening, but this was quite different. "My dear," I said, hurrying to her, "what- ever's the matter?" She turned her head at that and stood looking at me--almost as if she didn't see me. "What is it?" I persisted, g She made a queer sort of grimace-^ though she were trying to swallow but ^ throat were too dry. She said hoarsely1 "I've just seen something." "What have you seen? Tell me. Whatever can it be? You look a11 m-" She gave an effort to pull herself together, but she still looked pretty dreadful. She said, still in that same dreadful choked voice. "I've seen how some one could come in from outside—and no one would ever guess." I followed the direction of her eyes but I couldn't see anything. Mr. Reiter was standing in the door of the photographic room and Father Lavigny was just crossing the courtyard—but there was nothing else. I turned back puzzled and found her eyes fixed on mine with the strangest expression in them. "Really," I said, "I don't see what you mean. Won't you explain?" But she shook her head. 'Not now. Later. We ought to have seen. ^n, we ought to have seen!" If you'd only tell me—" "^ she shook her head. 1 v^ got to think it out first." .'nd Pushing past me, she went stumbling 1^.the stairs. ^_dn't follow her as she obviously didn't want me with her. Instead I sat down on th parapet and tried to puzzle things out. .Bur I didn't get anywhere. There was only the one way into the courtyard--through the bi? arch. Just outside it I could see the waterboy and his horse and the Indian cook talking to him. Nobody could have passed them and come in without their seeing him. I shook my head in perplexity and went downstairs again. ''('."'" iL.!«a Chapter 24 Murder is a Habit we all went to bed early that night. Miss Johnson had appeared at dinner and had behaved more or less as usual. She had, however, a sort of dazed look, and once or twice quite failed to take in what other people said to her. It wasn't somehow a very comfortable sort of meal. You'd say, I suppose, that that was natural enough in a house where there'd been a funeral that day. But I know what I mean. Lately our meals had been hushed and subdued, but for all that there had been a reeling of comradeship. There had been Empathy with Dr. Leidner in his grief and a tellow feeling of being all in the same boat _"K)ngst the others. ^t to-night I was reminded of my first Bia^' ^ere--when Mrs. Mercado had cne(^ me and there had been that curious feeling as though something might snap any minute. I'd felt the same thing--only very much intensified--when we'd sat round the dining-room table with Poirot at the head of n To-night it was particularly strong. Every one was on edge--jumpy--on tenterhooks If any one had dropped something I'm sure somebody would have screamed. As I say, we all separated early afterwards. I went to bed almost at once. The last thing I heard as I was dropping off to sleep was Mrs. Mercado's voice saying good-night to Miss Johnson just outside my door. I dropped off to sleep at once--tired by my exertions and even more by my silly experience in Mrs. Leidner's room. I slept heavily and dreamlessly for several hours. I awoke when I did awake with a start and a feeling of impending catastrophe. Some sound had woken me, and as I sat up in bed listening I heard it again. An awful sort of agonized choking groan. I had lit my candle and was out of bed u1 a twinkling. I snatched up a torch, too, ^ case the candle should blow out. I came ou of my door and stood listening. I knew t sound wasn't far away. It came again^11-- "»0 A he room immediately next to mine--Miss Tohnson's room. I hurried in. Miss Johnson was lying in bed her whole body contorted in agony. As r set down the candle and bent over her, her lips moved and she tried to speak--but only an awful hoarse whisper came. I saw that the corners of her mouth and the skin of her chin were burnt a kind of greyish white. Her eyes went from me to a glass that lay on the floor evidently where it had dropped from her hand. The light rug was stained a bright red where it had fallen. I picked it up and ran a finger over the inside, drawing back my hand with a sharp exclamation. Then I examined the inside of the poor wornan's mouth. There wasn't the least doubt what was the matter. Somehow or other, intentionally or otherwise, she'd swallowed a quantity of corrosive acid--oxalic or hydrochloric, I susPected. I ran out and called to Dr. Leidner and e woke the others, and we worked over her or all we were worth, but all the time I had ^n awful feeling it was no good. We tried a A,01^ solution of carbonate of soda--and ll_ved it with olive oil. To ease the pain I gave her a hypodermic of morphine sul I phate. , 3 David Emmott had gone off to Hassanieh to fetch Dr. Reilly, but before he came iri was over. I won't dwell on the details. Poisoning by a strong solution of hydrochloric acid (which is what it proved to be) is one of the most painful deaths possible. It was when I was bending over her to give her the morphia that she made one ghastly effort to speak. It was only a horrible strangled whisper when it came. "The window . . " she said. "Nurse . . . the window . . ." But that was all--she couldn't go on. She collapsed completely. I shall never forget that night. The arrival of Dr. Reilly. The arrival of Captain Maitland. And finally with the dawn, Hercule Poirot. He it was who took me gently by the arm and steered me into the dining-room where he made me sit down and have a cup of go0" strong tea. "There, mon enfant;' he said, "that is bet. ter. You are worn out." J Upon that, I burst into tears, rire "It's too awful," I sobbed. "It's been 1_ ^Q£. ^ghtmare. Such awful suffering. And her yes . Oh, M. Poirot--her eyes ..." ye patted me on the shoulder. A woman couldn't have been kinder. "Yes, yes--do not think of it. You did all you could." "It was one of the corrosive acids." "It was a strong solution of hydrochloric acid." "The stuff they use on the pots?" "Yes. Miss Johnson probably drank it off before she was fully awake. That is--unless she took it on purpose." "Oh, M. Poirot, what an awful idea!" "It is a possibility, after all. What do you think?" I considered for a moment and then shook my head decisively. "I don't believe it. No, I don't believe it for a moment." I hesitated and then said, "I think she found out something yesterday afternoon." "What is that you say? She found out ^mething?", 1 ^peated to him the curious conversation _W had together. I -olrot S3^ a low soft whistle. ^ Pauvrefemme!" he said. "She said she anted to think it over--eh? That is what ")0'7 signed her death warrant. If she had only spoken out--then--at once." He said: "Tell me again her exact words?" I repeated them. "She saw how some one could have come in from outside without any of you knowing?! Come, ma soeur, let us go up to the roof and you shall show me just where she was stand-B ing." We went up to the roof together and I showed Poirot the exact spot where Miss Johnson had stood. "Like this?" said Poirot. "Now what do I see? I see half the courtyard--and the archway--and the doors of the drawingoffice and the photographic room and the laboratory. Was there any one in the courtyard?" "Father Lavigny was just going towards the archway and Mr. Reiter was standing in the door of the photographic room." "And still I do not see in the least how any one could come in from outside and none of you know about it. ... But she saw . He gave it up at last, shaking his head^ "Sacre nom d'un chien--va! What did ^i see?" The sun was just rising. The whole east_ kv was a riot of rose and orange and pale, yearly grey. "What a beautiful sunrise," said Poirot gently. The river wound away to our left and the Tell stood up outlined in gold colour. To the south were the blossoming trees and the peaceful cultivation. The water-wheel groaned in the distance—a faint unearthly sound. In the north were the slender minarets and the clustering fairy whiteness of Hassanieh. It was all incredibly beautiful. And then, close at my elbow, I heard Poirot give a long deep sigh. "Fool that I have been," he murmured. "When the truth is so clear—so clear." ^»on i* Chapter 25 Suicide or Murder? I hadn't time to ask Poirot what he meant, for Captain Maitland was calling up to us and asking us to come down. We hurried down the stairs. "Look here, Poirot," he said. "Here's another complication. The monk fellow is missing." "Father Lavigny?" "Yes. Nobody noticed it till just now. Then it dawned on somebody that he was the only one of the party not around, and we went to his room. His bed's not been slept in and there's no sign of him." The whole thing was like a bad dream- First Miss Johnson's death and then the disappearance of Father Lavigny. , The servants were called and questioned but they couldn't throw any light on the my^ terv. He had last been seen at about eig o'clock the night before. Then he had _ ^f\f\ he was going out for a stroll before going to bed. Nobody had seen him come back from that stroll. I The big doors had been closed and barred at nine o'clock as usual. Nobody, however, remembered unbarring them in the morning. The two house-boys each thought the other one must have done the unfastening. Had Father Lavigny ever returned the night before? Had he, in the course of his earlier walk, discovered anything of a suspicious nature, gone out to investigate it later, and perhaps fallen a third victim? Captain Maitland swung round as Dr. Reilly came up with Mr. Mercado behind him. "Hallo, Reilly. Got anything?" "Yes. The stuff came from the laboratory here. I've just been checking up the quantities with Mercado. It's H. C. L. from the lab." B"The laboratory--eh? Was it locked up?" w. Mercado shook his head. His hands ^e shaking and his face was twitching. He ^oked a wreck of a man. w never been the custom," he stamniered "v i .u' You see--just now--we re using it ^ne time. I--nobody ever dreamt--" L ">m "Is the place locked up at night?" "Yes--all the rooms are locked. The keys are hung up just inside the living-room." "So if any one had a key to that they could get the lot." "Yes." "And it's a perfectly ordinary key, I sup. pose?" "Oh, yes." "Nothing to show whether she took it herself from the laboratory?" asked Captain Maitland. "She didn't," I said loudly and positively. I felt a warning touch on my arm. Poirot was standing close behind me. And then something rather ghastly happened. Not ghastly in itself--in fact it was just the incongruousness that made it seem worse than anything else. A car drove into the courtyard and a little man jumped out. He was wearing a sun helmet and a short thick trench coat. He came straight to Dr. Leidner, who was standing by Dr. Reilly, and shook him warmly by the hand. "Vous voild, mon cher," he cried. ') And shaking his head in one last ineffec, tual effort to express his feelings, the little man climbed into his car and left us. As I say, that momentary introduction of comic relief into tragedy seemed really morel gruesome than anything else that had happened. "The next thing," said Dr. Reilly firmly, "is breakfast. Yes, I insist. Come, Leidner, you must eat." Poor Dr. Leidner was almost a complete wreck. He came with us to the dining-room and there a funereal meal was served. I think the hot coffee and fried eggs did us all good, though no one actually felt they wanted to eat. Dr. Leidner drank some coffee and sat twiddling his bread. His face was greyP drawn with pain and bewilderment. After breakfast. Captain Maitland got down to things. I explained how I had woken up, heard a queer sound and had gone into Miss Johnson's room. „ "You say there was a glass on the floor. "Yes. She must have dropped it a^ drinking." "Was it broken?" "No, it had fallen on the rug. (I'm afraid rhe acid's ruined the rug, by the way.) I nicked the glass up and put it back on the table." "I'm glad you've told us that. There are only tw0 sets °^ fingerprints on it, and one set is certainly Miss Johnson's own. The other must be yours." He was silent for a moment, then he said: "Please go on." I described carefully what I'd done and the methods I had tried, looking rather anxiously at Dr. Reilly for approval. He gave it with a nod. "You tried everything that could possibly have done any good," he said. And though I was pretty sure I had done so, it was a relief to have my belief confirmed. "Did you know exactly what she had taken?" Captain Maitland asked. "No--but I could see, of course, that it was a corrosive acid." Captain Maitland asked gravely: «T -- is it your opinion, nurse, that Miss John- ^n deliberately administered this stuff to herself?" Oh, no," I exclaimed. "I never thought |01 such a thing!" ^on't know why I was so sure. Partly, I '^f\C' think, because of M. Poirot's hints. H,o "murder is a habit" had impressed itself on my mind. And then one doesn't readily believe that any one's going to commit suicide in such a terribly painful way. I said as much and Captain Maitland nodded thoughtfully. I "I agree that it isn't what one would choose," he said. "But if any one were in great distress of mind and this stuff were easily available it might be taken for that S1 reason." "Was she in great distress of mind?" I asked doubtfully. "Mrs. Mercado says so. She says that Miss Johnson was quite unlike herself at dinner last night--that she hardly replied to anything that was said to her. Mrs. Mercado is quite sure that Miss Johnson was in terrible distress over something and that the idea of making away with herself had already occurred to her." "Well, I don't believe it for a moment; I said bluntly. Mrs. Mercado indeed! Nasty slinking li1' tie cat! "Then what do you think?" "I think she was murdered," I sal( bluntly. He rapped out his next question sharply. T felt rather that I was in the orderly room. "Any reasons?" "It seems to me by far and away the most possible solution." "That's just your private opinion. There was no reason why the lady should be murdered?" "Excuse me," I said, "there was. She found out something." "Found out something? What did she find out?" I repeated our conversation on the roof word for word. "She refused to tell you what her discovery was?" "Yes. She said she must have time to think it over." "But she was very excited by it?" "Yes." "A way of getting in from outside." Captain Maitland puzzled over it, his brows knit. Had you no idea at all of what she was ynying at?55 N01 in the least. I puzzled and puzzled ^r^it but I couldn't even get a glimmer- r1?* ^Ptain Maitland said: yhat do you think, M. Poirot?" 1^ Poirot said: "I think you have there a possible motive." "For murder?" "For murder." Captain Maitland frowned. "She wasn't able to speak before she^ died?" "Yes, she just managed to get out two words." "What were they?" "The window ..." "The window?" repeated Captain Maitland. "Did you understand to what she was referring?" I shook my head. "How many windows were there in her bedroom?" "Just the one." "Giving on the courtyard?" "Yes." "Was it open or shut? Open, I seem to^ remember. But perhaps one of you opene< it?" i. "No, it was open all the time. wondered--" I stopped. "Go on, nurse." "I examined the window, of course, b-- t couldn't see anything unusual about it. I pondered whether, perhaps, somebody changed the glasses that way." "Changed the glasses?" "Yes. You see. Miss Johnson always takes a glass of water to bed with her. I think that glass must have been tampered with and a glass of acid put there in its place." "What do you say, Reilly?" "If it's murder, that was probably the way it was done," said Dr. Reilly promptly. "No ordinary moderately observant human being would drink a glass of acid in mistake for one of water—if they were in full possession of their waking faculties. But if any one's accustomed to drinking off a glass of water in the middle of the night, that person might easily stretch out an arm, find the glass in the accustomed place, and still half asleep, toss off enough of the stuff to be fatal before realizing what had happened." Captain Maitland reflected a minute. I'll have to go back and look at that win^w. How far is it from the head of the bed?" | [ thought. wltn a very long stretch you could just ^ch the little table that stands by the head —^ bed." L "The table on which the glass of water was?55 "Yes.55 "Was the door locked?55 "No.55 "So whoever it was could have come in that way and made the substitution?55 I "Oh, yes.'5 "There would be more risk that way," said Dr. Reilly. "A person who is sleeping quite soundly will often wake up at the sound of a footfall. If the table could be reached from the window it would be the safer way." "I'm not only thinking of the glass,55 said Captain Maitland absentmindedly. Rousing himself, he addressed me once again. "It^ your opinion that when the poor lady felt she was dying she was anxious to let you know that somebody had substituted acid for water through the open window? Surely the person's name would have been more to the point?55 "She mayn^ have known the name," pointed out. "Or it would have been more to the poi^ if she'd managed to hint what it was that sn^ had discovered the day before?55 Dr. Reilly said: "V^hen you're dying, Maitland 5 you haven't always got a sense of proportion. One particular fact very likely obsesses your mind. That a murderous hand had come through the window may have been the principal fact obsessing her at the minute. It may have seemed to her important that she should let people know that. In my opinion she wasn't far wrong either. It was important! She probably jumped to the fact that you'd think it was suicide. If she could have I used her tongue freely, she'd probably have said 'It wasn't suicide. I didn't take it myself. Somebody else must have put it near my bed through the window."9 Captain Maitland drummed with his fingers for a minute or two without replying. Then he said: "There are certainly two ways of looking a^ it. It's either suicide or murder. Which ^ you think. Dr. Leidner?" AJr- Leidner was silent for a minute or ^o? then he said quietly and decisively: Murder. Anne Johnson wasn't the sort 01 woman to kill herself." ^o^ allowed Captain Maitland. "Not in ^e normal run of things. But there might ^circumstances in which it would be quite --ural thing to do." "Such as?" ' Captain Maitland stooped to a bundle which I had previously noticed him place by the side of his chair. He swung it on to the table with something of an effort. "There's something here that none of you know about 5" he said. "We found it under ^ her bed." He fumbled with the knot of the covering then threw it back revealing a heavy great quern or grinder. That was nothing in itself--there were a dozen or so already found in the course of the excavations. What riveted our attention on this particular specimen was a dull 5 dark stain and a fragment of something that looked like hair. "That'll be your job, Reilly," said CaptainB Maitland. "But I shouldn't say that there's" much doubt about this being the instrument with which Mrs. Leidner was killed!" Chapter 26 Next it Will be Me! it was rather horrible. Dr. Leidner looked as though he were going to faint and I felt a Ibit sick myself. Dr. Reilly examined it with professional gusto. "No fingerprints 5 I presume?" he threw out. "No fingerprints." gDr. Reilly took out a pair of forceps and investigated delicately. 'H'm—a fragment of human tissue—and halr—fair blonde hair. That's the unofficial ^rdict. Of course, I'll have to make a proper tes^ blood group, etc., but there's not much ^t. Found under Miss Johnson's bed? we11' well—so thafs the big idea. She did murder, and then. God rest her, remorse ^e to her and she finished herself off. It's ——^j-a pretty theory." Dr. Leidner could only shake his head helplessly. "Not Anne--not Anne," he murmured "I don't know where she hid this to begin with," said Captain Maitland. "Every room was searched after the first crime." Something jumped into my mind and I thought, "In the stationery cupboard," but I didn't say anything. "Wherever it was, she became dissatisfied with its hiding-place and took it into her own room, which had been searched with all the rest. Or perhaps she did that after making up her mind to commit suicide." "I don't believe it," I said aloud. And I couldn't somehow believe that kind nice Miss Johnson had battered out Mrs. Leidner's brains. I just couldn't see it happening! And yet it did fit in with some things--her fit of weeping that night, for instance. After all, I'd said "remorse" myself--only I'd never thought it was remorse for anything but the smaller more insignificant crime. ., "I don't know what to believe," s">c have committed it (as far as opportunity went), with the exception of three persons "Dr. Leidner, by overwhelming testimony, had never left the roof. Mr. Carev was on duty at the mound. Mr. Coleman was in Hassanieh. "But those alibis, my friends, were not quite as good as they looked. I except Dr. Leidner's. There is absolutely no doubt that he was on the roof all the time and did not come down until quite an hour and a quarter after the murder had happened. "But was it quite certain that Mr. Carey was on the mound all the time? "And had Mr. Coleman actually been in Hassanieh at the time the murder took place?" Bill Coleman reddened, opened his mouth, shut it and looked round uneasily. Mr. Carey's expression did not change. Poirot went on smoothly. B "I also considered one other person who, I satisfied myself, would be perfectly capable of committing murder if she felt strongly enough. Miss Reilly has courage and brains and a certain quality ofruthlessness. When Miss Reilly was speaking to me on the subject of the dead woman, I said to her, jokingly, that I hoped she had an alibi. I thin^B ")-»/- ^^1 Uiss Reilly was conscious then that she had had in her heart the desire, at least, to kill. ^t any rate she immediately uttered a very silly and purposeless lie. She said she had been playing tennis on that afternoon. The next day I learned from a casual conversation _h: A with Miss Johnson that far from playing tennis, Miss Reilly had actually been near this house at the time of the murder. It occurred to me that Miss Reilly, if not guilty of the m ^<->f *crime, might be able to tell me something useful.55 He stopped and then said quietly: "Will you tell us. Miss Reilly, what you did see that afternoon?55 The girl did not answer at once. She still looked out of the window without turning her head, and when she spoke it was in a detached and measured voice. "I rode out to the dig after lunch. It must have been about a quarter to two when I got there." "Did you find any of your friends on the dig?" "No, there seemed to be no one there but Jthe Arab foreman." "You did not see Mr. Carey?" "No." "Curious," said Poirot. "No more did M. 3")'7 Verrier when he went there that same afternoon." He looked invitingly at Carey, but the latter neither moved nor spoke. "Have you any explanation, Mr. Carey?" "I went for a walk. There was nothing of interest turning up." "In which direction did you go for a walk?" "Down by the river." "Not back towards the house?" "No." "I suppose," said Miss Reilly, "that you were waiting for some one who didn't come." He looked at her but didn't answer. Poirot did not press the point. He spoke once more to the girl. "Did you see anything else, mademoiselle?" "Yes. I was not far from the expedition house when I noticed the expedition lorry drawn up in a wadi. I thought it was rather queer. Then I saw Mr. Coleman. He was walking along with his head down as though he were searching for something." "Look here," burst out Mr. Coleinai 'I--" poirot stopped him with an authoritative gesture. "Wait. Did you speak to him 5 Miss Reilly?" "No, I didn't." "Why?" The girl said slowly: "Because, from time to time, he started and looked round with an extraordinary furtive look. It--gave me an unpleasant feeling. I turned my horse's head and rode away. I don't think he saw me. I was not very near and he was absorbed in what he was doing." "Look here," Mr. Coleman was not to be hushed any longer. "I've got a perfectly good explanation for what--I admit--looks a bit fishy. As a matter of fact, the day before I had slipped a jolly fine cylinder seal into my coat pocket instead of putting it in the antika-room--forgot all about it. And then I discovered I'd been and lost it out of my pocket--dropped it somewhere. I didn't want to get into a row about it so I decided 1 d have a jolly good search on the quiet. I ^s pretty sure I'd dropped it on the way to or from the dig. I rushed over my business in Hassanieh. Sent a walad to do some of the -Upping and got back early. I stuck the bus _^ere it wouldn't show and had a jolly good hunt for over an hour. And didn't find the damned thing at that! Then I got into the bus and drove on to the house. Naturally every one thought I'd just got back." "And you did not undeceive them?" asked Poirot sweetly. "Well, that was pretty natural under the circumstances, don't you think?" "I hardly agree," said Poirot. "Oh, come now--don't go looking for trouble--that's my motto 1 But you can't fasten anything on me. I never went into the courtyard, and you can't find any one who'll say I did." "That, of course, has been the difficulty," said Poirot. "The evidence of the servants that no one entered the courtyard from outside. But it occurred to me, upon reflection, that that was really not what they had said. They had sworn that no stranger had entered the premises. They had not been asked if a member of the expedition had done so." "Well, you ask them," said Coleman. "I'll | eat my hat if they saw me or Carey either. | "Ah! but that raises rather an interesting a question. They would notice a strange ^ undoubtedly--but would they have even no' J ticed a member of the expedition? The meitt, I hers of the staff are passing in and out all Jay. The servants would hardly notice their going and coming. It is possible, I think, that either Mr. Carey or Mr. Coleman might have entered and the servants' minds would have no remembrance of such an event." "Bunkum!" said Mr. Coleman. Poirot went on calmly: "Of the two, I think Mr. Carey was the least likely to be noticed going or coming. Mr. Coleman had started to Hassanieh in the car that morning and he would be expected to return in it. His arrival on foot would therefore be noticeable." "Of course it would!" said Coleman. Richard Carey raised his head. His deepblue eyes looked straight at Poirot. "Are you accusing me of murder, M. Poirot?" he asked. His manner was quite quiet but his voice had a dangerous undertone. Poirot bowed to him. "As yet I am only taking you all on a journey—my journey towards the truth. I had now established one fact—that all the Members of the expedition staff, and also Nurse Leatheran, could in actual fact have ^onimitted the murder. That there was very ^tie likelihood of some of them having com- ^ted it was a secondary matter. "I had examined means and opportunity. \ next passed to motive. I discovered that one and all of you could be credited with a motive!" "Oh! M. Poirot,55 I cried. "Not me! Why, I was a stranger. I'd only just come." "Eh bien, ma soeur, and was not that just what Mrs. Leidner had been fearing? A stranger from outside?" "But--but-- Why, Dr. Reilly knew all about me! He suggested my coming!55 "How much did he really know about you? Mostly what you yourself had told him. Impostors have passed themselves off as hospital nurses before now.55 "You can write to St. Christopher ^y5 I began. "For the moment will you silence yourself. Impossible to proceed while you conduct this argument. I do not say I suspect you now. All I say is that, keeping the open mind, you might quite easily be me one other than you pretended to be. There are many successful female impersonators, yo11 know. Young William Bosner might be something of that kind.55 I was about to give him a further piece 01 my mind. Female impersonator indeed! But he raised his voice and hurried on with sucn an air of determination that I thought better of it. (