World War I
The A.B.C. MurdersWorld War I is both a biographical landmark in Agatha Christie’s beginnings as a writer and a shaping experience in the life of Alexander Bonaparte Cust in The ABC Murders. For Christie, the war years preceded the creation of Hercule Poirot; for Cust, wartime service offered a fleeting sense of ordinary equality before injury and epilepsy altered his prospects and left him especially vulnerable to the false pattern constructed around the murders.
Christie’s Wartime Beginnings
Christie wrote her first novel, The Mysterious Affair at Styles, toward the end of World War I, during which she served in the Voluntary Aid Detachments. The novel introduced Hercule Poirot, the Belgian investigator who became her signature detective. After several publishers rejected the manuscript, The Bodley Head published it in 1920. The war therefore belongs to the threshold of Christie’s literary career: her service and the writing of the first Poirot novel occurred within the same broad period, although the available account does not claim that one directly caused the other.
Cust’s Service and Discharge
Cust remembers his wartime experience as a rare interval of belonging. He says that he enjoyed the part of the war he experienced because, for the first time, he felt like a man like anybody else: everyone was in the same position, and he was as good as anyone. That recollection gives the service a personal meaning distinct from its military circumstances. Equality was not a permanent change in his status, but a temporary relief from the sense of being different.
The interval ended after Cust received a slight wound to the head. His epilepsy was then discovered, and he was discharged. He says that he had already known of periods when he was unsure what he was doing and had occasionally fallen, but he did not believe those episodes justified sending him away. The wound thus marks a decisive reversal in his account: what he presents as a slight injury led to the identification of his fits and the loss of the role in which he had briefly felt accepted.
After the war, Cust found work as a clerk. He says he initially did not do badly, but his salary was smaller and he was repeatedly passed over for promotion because he was not considered sufficiently enterprising. When economic conditions worsened, keeping himself presentable on a clerk’s income became difficult. He accepted a job selling stockings for salary and commission. His later employment, and the financial pressure surrounding it, provide the circumstances in which the criminal scheme can reach him through an apparently ordinary work assignment.
Illness, Suggestibility, and the False Pattern
Cust’s wartime head wound and epilepsy become crucial to how he interprets the murders. As Poirot explains, Cust has been present near the scenes of the earlier crimes, and his epilepsy can involve periods of blank memory. He is also nervous and highly suggestible. Once he is ordered to travel to Doncaster, where another A.B.C. crime is expected, the repeated coincidence of his presence and the advance warnings begins to feel like fate to him. His landlady’s suspicion further unsettles him, and he tells her he is going to Cheltenham instead.
The distinction between Cust’s illness and his responsibility remains contested. Dr Thompson acknowledges that an epileptic person in a somnambulistic state could perform an action without awareness, but describes a qualification in the prevailing medical opinion: such an action must not run contrary to the person’s waking will. Thompson rejects the theory that Cust committed the murders without knowing, because the letters show premeditation and careful planning. His clinical uncertainty does not erase the evidence of a planned deception; rather, it clarifies why Cust’s symptoms make him an effective target for that deception without making him the actual killer.
Narrative Significance
World War I links Christie’s professional beginnings with Cust’s personal history, but the two strands serve different purposes. In the biographical account, the war precedes the first Poirot novel. In the fiction, Cust’s memory of wartime equality sharpens the contrast with the exclusion that follows his discharge, his stalled clerical career, and the precarious stocking job. The war’s lasting importance to his plot is not that it makes him a murderer, but that the wound, diagnosis, and history of lapses help make the false accusation psychologically persuasive to him.