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Chapter 2 The Adventure of the Egyptian Tomb

Our investigation of the deaths related to the Egyptian tomb was one of the most exciting

adventures I have had with Poirot. After Lord Khanna then discovered the tomb of Tutankhamun,

archaeologists Sir John Willard and Mr. Blybner of New York found several funeral chambers in

the pyramids of Giza, not far from Cairo. It was the tomb of King Menhera, who was one

of the mysterious kings of the 8th dynasty. Little was known about this period, and the

discoveries were reported in the newspapers. But soon something happened that caught the

interest of the public. Sir John Willard died of a heart attack. The newspapers wrote about

the old superstitious stories and the bad luck of Egyptian treasures. Two weeks later Mr. Blybner

died of blood poisoning, and a few days later his nephew shot himself in New York. Everyone talked

about the curse of Menhera. Some weeks later Poirot received a letter from Lady Willard,

the widow of the dead archaeologist. She asked him to visit her in her house in London. I went

with him. Lady Willard was a tall, thin woman, dressed in black. Her tired face showed her

deep sadness because of her loss. It is kind of you to come, Monsieur Poirot, she said.

What did you wish to see me about Lady Willard? You are a detective, but you are also a man who

has original ideas. I know you have imagination and experience. Tell me, Monsieur Poirot, what

do you think about the supernatural? Poirot posed for a moment. He seemed to be thinking.

Lady Willard, you are not asking me a general question, are you? It is a personal question.

You are talking about the death of your late husband. Yes, she said. Do you want me to investigate

his death? Three deaths, Monsieur Poirot. Each one can be explained by itself, but together they

are an unbelievable coincidence. And all three deaths happened in the month after the opening

of the tomb. It may be superstition, or it may be a curse from the past. Three deaths,

and I am afraid, Monsieur Poirot. It may not be the end. Who do you fear for? I fear for

my son. I was ill when I heard about my husband's death. My son, who has just come back from

Oxford, went there. He broke the body home. But now he has gone there again. I begged

him not to go, but he did. He wants to take his father's place and continue the archaeological

work. You may think I am foolish, but I am afraid, Monsieur Poirot. No Lady Willard, said Poirot.

I also believe in the force of superstition. It is one of the greatest forces in the world.

I looked at him in surprise. I had never thought Poirot was superstitious, but the little men

was obviously telling the truth. You want me to protect your son, don't you? I will do my best

to keep him from harm. Yes, against a magical power. The books of the Middle Ages talk about many

ways of fighting black magic. Perhaps they knew more than we modern people do with our science.

Now let me ask you some questions. Had your husband always been interested in Egyptology?

Yes, ever since he was a young man. He was one of the greatest authorities on Egyptology.

But his partner Mr. Blybner was an amateur. Oh yes, he was a very wealthy man who spent money

on any subject that he was interested in. My husband interested him in Egyptology,

and his money was useful in funding the expedition. And the nephew? What do you know about him?

Did he go to Egypt with them? I do not think so. In fact, I had never heard about him

until I read about his death in the paper. Mr. Blybner had never spoken of any relatives.

Who are the other members of the expedition group?

Well, there is Dr. Toswell. He is a minor official from the British Museum.

There is Mr. Schneider of the Metropolitan Museum in New York. There is a young American secretary.

Then there is Dr. Ames. And finally, there is Hassan, my husband's loyal servant.

Do you remember the name of the American secretary? Harper, I think. But I'm not sure.

He had not been with Mr. Blybner very long. He was a pleasant young man.

Thank you, Lady Willard. That's all for now. I will do everything possible to protect your son.

I had never thought that Poirot believed in superstitions.

I asked him about it on our way back home. But yes, Hastings, I believe in these things.

You must not laugh at the force of superstition.

What are we going to do about the case? I asked.

Well, first we are going to send a telegram to New York to learn the details of Mr. Blybner's death.

Soon a reply came from New York about Mr. Blybner.

Young Rupert Blybner had been having money problems for several years.

He had been travelling in the South Sea Islands on money that was sent from home.

He had returned to New York two years ago, but his situation became worse and worse.

He had recently borrowed some money to go to Egypt.

I have a good friend in Egypt who lends me money, he had said. However, in Egypt,

things had not worked out for him, so he had returned to New York.

He had been angry at his stingy uncle, who cared more for the bones of dead kings than his own relatives.

While he was in Egypt, Sir John Willard had died. In New York, Rupert had found himself in a bad life again.

And then suddenly he had killed himself. He had left a strange letter.

He wrote that he felt guilty and regretful. He said that he was a leper, an outsider, and that he was better dead.

I had a theory. I did not believe in the curse of a dead Egyptian king. I believe that this was a more modern crime.

Perhaps this young man had decided to kill his uncle by poison.

By mistake, he had given the poison to Sir John Willard. He was terrified by his crime,

so he had returned to New York. Then he had heard about his uncle's death.

His crime had been unnecessary. He had killed himself because of guilt.

I told Poirot about my theory.

It is a clever idea, Hastings, he said.

It may be true, but you forget the power of the Egyptian tomb.

Do you still think that it is related to the tomb?

Yes, my friend. That is why we are going to Egypt. We start off tomorrow.

It was a week later. Our four days voyage from Marseille to Alexandria

had been long and difficult. We had then travelled from Alexandria to Cairo

and had settled at the Mina House Hotel, which was very close to the Pyramids.

The sun was hot and we were standing on the golden sand of the desert now.

I loved Egypt, but Poirot was not so happy.

He was dressed the same as in London, carried a small clothes brush in his pocket

and tried to brush off the dust on his dark clothes.

My boots, he cried. Look at them, Hastings.

My leather boots, which are usually so smart and shining.

Look at the sand inside them. Look at the sand on them.

The heat. It causes my mustache to drop.

Look at the Sphinx, I said. I can feel the mystery and the magic.

Poirot looked at it unhappily. It does not have a happy feeling, he said.

It is half buried in sand in that untidy way. Ah, this annoying sand.

He looked at the Pyramids thoughtfully. It is true that they are of a solid and

geometrical shape, but their surface is not smooth. It is very unpleasant,

and I don't like the palm trees. They don't even grow in a straight line.

I told him that we should be going to the camp. We were going to ride there on camels.

Poirot did not enjoy riding on the camel. He yelled, he cried, he groaned, and then he prayed.

In the end, he got off and finished the journey on a little donkey.

At last we came to the archaeological site. A sun -burnt men with a grey beard,

in white clothes, and wearing a helmet, came to meet us.

Mosia Poirot and Captain Hastings? We received your telegram.

I'm sorry that there was no one to meet you in Cairo. Something unexpected happened.

Poirot went pale, not another death, he said. Yes, so Guy Willard I cried.

No, Captain Hastings. My American colleague, Mr. Schneider, died.

And the cause asked Poirot, tetanus. I panicked. I could feel the evil all around me.

I had a horrible thought. What if I were next?

My God, said Poirot, in a very low voice. I do not understand this. It is horrible.

Tell me, Mosia, is there any doubt that it was tetanus?

I believe not, but Dr. Ames will tell you more.

Ah, you are not the doctor. My name is Toswell. This was the British expert,

who was a minor official at the British Museum. He looked serious and trustworthy.

Please come with me, Dr. Toswell said. I will take you to Sir Guy Willard.

He wanted to be informed as soon as you arrived.

We went across the camp to a large tent. We entered. Three men were sitting inside.

Mosia Poirot and Captain Hastings have arrived, Sir Guy, said Toswell.

Guy Willard was the youngest of the three men. He jumped up and came forward to greet us.

He reminded me of his mother. He was not as sunburnt as the others. He was only 22 years old,

but he looked older. It was clear that he was under a lot of stress.

He introduced the other two men. Dr. Ames was a man in his 30s with some grey hair on the sides.

Mr. Harper, the secretary, was a pleasant young man wearing glasses.

After a few minutes of small talk, Mr. Harper went out, and Dr. Toswell followed him.

We were left alone with Sir Guy and Dr. Ames. Please ask any questions you want to ask,

Mosia Poirot, said Guy Willard. We are shocked at these tragedies,

but it can only be a coincidence. He was nervous. Poirot was studying him carefully.

You really love this work, don't you, Sir Guy?

Yes, it doesn't matter what happens. The work will continue. Poirot turned to Dr. Ames.

What do you think about that, Doctor? Well, said the Doctor slowly. I don't want to quit either.

Then we must find out the truth. When did Mr. Schneider die?

Three days ago. Are you sure it was tetanus?

I have no doubts. What about strychnine poisoning? No, Mosia Poirot. It was clearly tetanus.

Did you inject antiserum? Of course we did, said the Doctor. We tried everything possible.

Did you have the antiserum with you? No, we obtained it from Cairo.

Were there any other cases of tetanus in the camp?

No, not one. Are you sure that Mr. Blybner's cause of death was not tetanus? Absolutely.

He had a scratch on his thumb, which became poisoned and became septic.

They may look similar, but septicemia and tetanus are completely different. Then we have four deaths.

They are totally different. One heart failure, one blood poisoning, one suicide, and one tetanus.

Yes, Mosia Poirot. Is there anything which might connect the four together?

I don't understand. I will say it simply. Did those four men do anything rude to the spirit of Menhera?

The Doctor looked at Poirot in shock. You're talking nonsense, Mosia Poirot. You don't believe all that full talk.

Nonsense, said so guy angrily. Poirot remained calm. He looked at them out of his green cat's eyes.

So, you do not believe it, Doctor? No, sir. I do not, said the Doctor.

I am a scientific man, and I believe only what science teaches.

Was there no science in ancient Egypt? asked Poirot. He did not wait for an answer.

No, no, do not answer me. But tell me, what do the Egyptian workmen think?

They are getting scared. But there is no reason to be scared, said Doctor Ames.

I see, said Poirot slowly.

This is absurd, cried so guy.

You cannot believe in. You know nothing about ancient Egypt if you think that.

Poirot took out a little book from his pocket. It was a very old book, The Magic of the Egyptians.

Then he turned around and walked out of the tent. The doctor looked at me.

What is he thinking of? I don't know, I said. I went in search of Poirot and found him talking

to the late Mr. Blybness secretary. No, Mr. Harper was saying. I've been with the expedition

for only six months. Yes, I knew Mr. Blybness business as well.

Can you tell me anything about his nephew? He came one day. I'd never met him before.

But some of the others had met him. Ames and Schneider, I think.

Mr. Blybness wasn't happy to see his nephew. They started quarrelling.

I won't give you a cent, the old men shouted. Not one cent now or when I'm dead. I will leave

my money to this work. I've been talking about it with Mr. Schneider today.

The nephew went to Cairo after that. Was he in good health at the time?

The old men? No, the young one. I think he did say that there was something wrong with him.

But I don't think it was serious because I don't remember what it was.

One more question. Has Mr. Blybness left her will?

I don't think so. Are you going to stay with the expedition, Mr. Harper?

No, sir. I am not. I'm going to New York after I settle things here.

You may laugh if you like, but I'm not going to be Menhar Ra's next victim.

He'll get me if I stop here.

The young men wiped the sweat from his brow.

Poirot turned away. With a strange smile, he said,

remember, he got one of his victims in New York.

Oh, no, said Mr. Harper. That young man is nervous, said Poirot thoughtfully.

I looked at Poirot, but his mysterious smile told me nothing.

So Guy Willard and Dr. Tosswell took us to the archaeological site.

The main finds had been taken to Cairo, but some of the tomb furniture was very interesting.

I felt that so Guy was a bit nervous. Before the evening meal, we went to the tent which had

been given to us. A tall dark figure in white stood aside to let us pass and greeted us in Arabic.

Poirot stopped. You are Hassan, the late Sir John Willard's servant.

I served Lord Sir John. Now I serve his son. He took a step nearer to us and lowered his voice.

They say you are a wise one. Get the young master to leave this place. There is evil around us.

He did not wait for a reply and walked away. Evil in the air, said Poirot. Yes, I feel it.

Our meal was not very cheerful. After dinner, we were preparing to go to our tents when Sir

Guy caught Poirot by the arm. A shadowy figure was moving among the tents. It was not a human.

I recognized a dog -headed figure I had seen on the walls of the tomb. My blood froze.

My god, whispered Poirot. Anubis, the jackal -headed god. He is the Egyptian god of the dead.

Someone is tricking us, cried Dr. Tosswell, standing up angrily.

It went into your tent harper, said Sir Guy. His face was pale.

No, said Poirot, shaking his head. He went into Dr. Ames' tent.

The doctor looked at him. Then he repeated Dr. Tosswell's words. Someone is tricking us.

Come, we'll catch the men. He ran after the shadowy figure. We followed him,

but we could not find any living thing. We returned. In our tent, Poirot began taking

actions for his safety. He put some diagrams around the tent and drew some letters in the sand.

At the same time, he told me about witchcraft and magic,

white magic and black magic, the car and the book of the dead. Dr. Tosswell watched Poirot

angrily. Nonsense, Sir. He said, pure nonsense. The men is a charlatan.

He doesn't know the difference between the superstitions of the Middle Ages and the beliefs

of ancient Egypt. I went into our tent. Poirot was smiling cheerfully.

We can now sleep in peace, he said happily. And I need some sleep. I have a terrible headache.

I wish I had some tea. At that moment, the door of the tent was lifted and Hassan came in.

He had brought a hot cup of chamomile tea, which was Poirot's favourite. We thanked Hassan and he

left. I stood at the door of the tent and looked out over the desert. It's a wonderful place, I said,

and a wonderful work. This desert life, looking into the heart of a lost civilisation.

Poirot, you must feel the magic too. I got no answer and I turned. Poirot was lying on his back

across the couch, his face in spasm. Beside him was the empty cup. I ran out and across the camp

to Dr. Ames' tent. Dr. Ames, I cried, come at once. What's the matter, said the doctor in his

pyjamas? My friend, he is ill, dying. The chamomile tea. Don't let Hassan leave the camp.

The doctor ran to our tent. Poirot was still lying on the couch.

Very strange, cried Ames. It looks like a seizure. What did you say he drank? He picked up the empty cup.

But I did not drink it, said a calm voice. We turned in surprise. Poirot was sitting up on the bed.

He was smiling. No, he said. I did not drink it. While my good friend Hastings was talking about the

beauty of the night, I poured it into a little bottle. That little bottle will go to the chemist

for analysis. The doctor made a sudden movement.

No, said Poirot. You are a smart man, so you know that violence won't help.

I hid the bottle in a safe place. Quick Hastings, hold him. I wanted to save my friend, so I threw

myself in front of him. But the doctor's head went to his mouth. A smell of bitter almonds

filled the air, and he moved forward and fell. He was dead.

Another victim said Poirot. But the last one, he has three deaths on his head. Dr Ames,

I cried in amazement. But I thought you believed in some magical power.

You misunderstood me, Hastings. I believe in the force of superstition. I suspected that

someone was taking advantage of people's superstitious fears. When Sir John Willard died,

Dr Ames had this idea. Nobody could get any money from Sir John's death,

but Mr Blybin's nephew was different. Firstly, he had said that he had a good friend in Egypt,

who could lend him money. People thought that he meant his uncle,

but it was another person. Secondly, young Blybna received enough money to take him to Egypt.

His uncle refused to give him a penny, but he was able to pay for his return ticket to New York.

Someone must have lent him the money. But that doesn't mean anything, I said.

There was more Hastings. Young Blybna wrote in his final letter. I am a leper. He killed himself

because he believed that he had caught the disease of leprosy. What? I cried. Young Blybna was

suffering from some minor skin trouble. He had lived in the South Sea Islands, where the disease

is common. Ames was his old friend and a well -known doctor. Blybna trusted him.

When I came here, I suspected Harper and Dr Ames, but soon I understood that only the doctor

could have committed the crimes. Harper told me that Ames had met young Blybna before.

Blybna had made a will in favour of the doctor. This was the doctor's chance to obtain wealth.

He could easily inject the deadly disease to young Blybna.

Then the nephew became depressed and killed himself. Mr Blybna had made no will.

His money would pass to his nephew and from the nephew to the doctor.

And Mr Schneider? We cannot be sure. He knew young Blybna too. Maybe he suspected something.

Let me tell you an interesting psychological fact - tastings.

A murderer has always a strong desire to repeat his successful crime.

That's why I had fears for young Sir Willard. The figure of Anubis Yousou tonight was Hassan.

I ordered him to dress up. I wanted to see if I could frighten the doctor,

but he was not frightened by the supernatural. The little game did not trick him. I suspected

that he would try to kill me next. Ah, it is so hot and dusty, but my brain still works perfectly.

Poirot was right. Some years ago, young Blybna had made a funny will as a joke.

I leave everything I have, most of which will be debts, to my good friend Robert Ames,

who once saved my life from drowning. The case was covered up, and, to this day,

people talk of the deaths connected with the tomb of Menherah.