This was a confusing little mystery.
As the title of the book says, an airman dies in a plane crash. At first everyone thinks it has been an accident, then everyone thinks it has been murder and then everyone thinks it has been a suicide. Essentially, no one knows what has happened.
And until the death of said airman gets untangled, another mystery surrounding the airfield at which the death has occured has to be solved.
Yep, I was confused a lot of the time. And yet I really liked this mystery and it kept me glued to the pages. And the ending was adorable.
Murder in Mesopotamia isn´t one of my favorite Christie´s. And it isn´t because the crime plot was a bad one, quite the contrary. I found the crime and the solution to be as equally as good as some of her other books.
It´s because the characters are incredibly bland and boring and the narrator of the story, Amy Leatheran, is the worst of them all. I got so annoyed by her mentioning that Richard Carey is beautiful, even though he apparently looks like the grim reaper based on her description of him. And Poirot hasn´t been as charming as he usually is.
Hastings can be a bit dense sometimes, but I really missed him this time around.
I'd never read this collection before, and I'm happy to say I liked this one about as much as Adventures (which is to say, among favourite Holmes').
There is this sense of deep friendship that permeates it and also growth. Holmes has changed as time passed, taking more care of what he divulges once he solves the mystery, he's more... empathetic I guess. Oh, and he has stopped doing drugs.
It might be that I was primed by the first story. I felt angry at the detective for concealing his continuing living from Watson, even as I grasped his pragmatism, but I reached dismay when I realized Watson was now a widower. Holy shit, the man had to have had some terrible three years there.
But whatever I though of Holmes, I could read in Watson's frame his care, and maybe the same tether that saved him in A Study in Scarlet. And if I got fanciful, I might imagine Watson's bereavement is recent, and Sherlock picked a good time to show himself.
Because those are some long years of friendship folks (my maths say 16 from A Study to Abbey Grange), and the bits where Watson points to them being middle aged men have their bittersweet culmination in the mention on the final story of Holmes having retired.
And hell, I'm feeling like bumping Memoirs' stars now.