Murder in Mesopotamia

Chapter 11. An Odd Business

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, 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. 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 inquiringly.

He drew out a notebook.

‘This is for my own satisfaction. Now, what time was it exactly when Dr Leidner found his wife’s body?’

‘I 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 half-past four and I’m inclined to put the time of death between 1.15 and 1.45. We’ll say half-past one at a guess. That’s near enough.’

He stopped and drummed thoughtfully with his fingers on the table.

‘Damned odd, this business,’ he said. ‘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.’

He frowned.

At that moment the door opened and Dr 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.

‘I know.’ He looked at me. ‘My wife confided the truth to Nurse Leatheran. We mustn’t keep anything back at this juncture, nurse, so please tell Captain Maitland and Dr Reilly just what passed between you and my wife yesterday.’

As nearly as possible I gave our conversation verbatim.

Captain Maitland uttered an occasional ejaculation. When I had finished he turned to 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. ‘You 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 Captain Maitland.

‘Well, I think it is open to doubt,’ I said hesitatingly.

‘In any case,’ said Dr Leidner, ‘the man is a murderer – and I should say a dangerous lunatic also. He must be found, Captain Maitland. He must. It should not be difficult.’

Dr Reilly said slowly: ‘It may be more difficult than you think…eh, Maitland?’

Captain Maitland tugged at his moustache without replying.

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 how I had seen him hanging about the place two days ago trying to pump Father Lavigny.

‘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. ‘To find out when the coast was clear.’

Dr Reilly rubbed his nose with a harassed gesture.

‘That’s the devil of it,’ he said. ‘Supposing the coast wasn’t clear – eh?’

I stared at him in a puzzled fashion.

Captain Maitland turned to Dr Leidner.

‘I want you to listen to me very carefully, Leidner. This is a review of the evidence we’ve got up to date. After lunch, which was served at twelve o’clock and was over by five and twenty to one, your wife went to her room 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 anyone 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?’

‘Once or twice – usually to call to Emmott about something.’

‘On each occasion the boy was sitting in the middle of the courtyard washing pots?’

‘Yes.’

‘What was the longest period of time when Emmott was with you and absent from the courtyard?’

Dr Leidner considered.

‘It’s difficult to say – perhaps ten minutes. Personally I should say two or three 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 Reilly. 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 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 Johnson says she was in the living-room taking 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 was in Hassanieh. So much for the members of the expedition. Now for the servants. The cook – your Indian chap – was sitting immediately outside the archway chatting to the guard and plucking a couple of fowls. Ibrahim and Mansur, the house-boys, joined him there 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?’

‘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.

‘They were closed and latched on the inside,’ I said promptly.

‘In any case,’ said Captain Maitland, ‘even if they had been open, no one could have entered or left the room that way. My fellows and I have assured ourselves of that. It is the same with all the other windows giving on the open country. They all have iron bars and all the bars are in good condition. To have got into your wife’s room, a strangermust have come through the arched doorway into the courtyard. But we have the united assurance 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 it’s 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.’