The only recently divorced Agatha Christie (Lyndsey Marshall) is travelling through Iraq looking for inspiration when she arrives at the archaeological dig of two of her friends that looks like it might be going to be subsumed into a gigantic oil field owned by the British government. Like moths to a flame, no sooner does she arrive than bodies start to accrue. Dead ones - and not preserved in bandages, neither. What’s occurring? Amongst the somewhat eclectic group on the site, she encounters the dashing young Max (Jonah Hauer-King) and after a bit of a rocky start, and with him realising that she quite likes him shirtless, the two begin to take a liking to each other whilst they investigate some creepy shenanigans amidst the ancient artefacts. There are no shortage of potential culprits seeking either recognition or great wealth, and those could reach high up onto the echelons of the Iraqi administration. Can they get to the bottom of the mystery and manage to find time for some fun, themselves? Well of that, there isn’t any doubt and indeed fans of Christie will know that she did actually meet her second husband, Max Mallowan, on a very similar trip. What we do get though is plenty of mysterious and quite well crafted duplicity, a little bit of amiable flirting but a story that I couldn’t help thinking might have worked better in black and white. Though there isn’t a great deal of chemistry between Marshall and JHK, both step up to deliver fine as the plot thickens and the red herrings arrive by the netfull. It’s a television movie, so it’s probably best not to expect too much, but as a ninety minute adventure to pass an afternoon you could do a lot worse.