They Do It With Mirrors mm-6

by Agatha Christie

  She was angry. And her anger sounded in the crisp sharpness of her voice.

  Slowly, unbelievingly, Carrie Louise took a step towards the door. Lewis Serrocold put a hand on her shoulder.

  'No, dearest, let me go.'

  He went out through the doorway. Dr Maverick, with a doubtful glance at Edgar, followed him. Miss Bellever went with them.

  Miss Marple gently urged Carrie Louise into a chair.

  She sat down, her eyes looking hurt and stricken.

  'Christian - shot?' she said again.

  It was the bewildered hurt tone of a child.

  Walter Hudd remained close to Edgar Lawson, glowering down at him. In his hand he held the gun that he had picked up from the floor.

  Mrs Serrocold said in a wondering voice:

  'But who could possibly want to shoot Christian?' It was not a question that demanded an answer.

  Walter muttered under his breath: 'Nuts! The whole lot of them.' Stephen had moved protectively closer to Gina. Her young startled face was the most vivid thing in the room.

  Suddenly the front door opened and a rush of cold air together with a man in a big overcoat came in.

  The heartiness of his greeting seemed incredibly shocking.

  'Hallo, everybody, what's going on tonight? A lot of fog on the road. I had to go dead slow.' For a startled moment, Miss Marple thought that she was seeing double. Surely the same man could not be standing by Gina and coming in by the door. Then she realized that it was only a likeness and not, when you looked closely, such a very strong likeness. The two men were clearly brothers with a strong family resemblance, but no more.

  Where Stephen Restarick was thin to the point of emaciation the newcomer was sleek. The big coat with the astrakhan collar fitted the sleekness of body snugly. A handsome young man, and one who bore upon him the authority and good humour of success.

  But Miss Marple noted one thing about him. His eyes, as he entered the hall, looked immediately at Gina.

  He said, a little doubtfully: 'You did expect me? You got my wire?' He was speaking now to Carrie Louise. He came towards her.

  Almost mechanically, she put her hand out to him. He took it and kissed it gently. It was an affectionate act of homage, not a mere theatrical courtesy.

  She murmured: 'Of course, Alex dear - of course. Only, you see things have been happening '

  'Happening?' Mildred gave the information, gave it with a kind of grim relish that Miss Marple found distasteful.

  'Christian Gulbrandsen,' she said. 'My brother Christian Gulbrandsen has been found shot dead.'

  'Good God,' Alex registered a more than life-size dismay. 'Suicide, do you mean?' Carrie Louise moved swiftly.

  'Oh no,' she said. 'It couldn't be suicide. Not Christian! Oh no.'

  'Uncle Christian would never shoot himself, I'm sure,' said Gina.

  Alex Restarick looked from one person to the other.

  From his brother Stephen he received a short confirmative nod. Walter Hudd stared back at him with faint resentment. Alex's eyes rested on Miss Marple with a sudden frown. It was as though he had found some unwanted prop on a stage set.

  He looked as though he would like her explained. But nobody explained her, and Miss Marple continued to look an old, fluffy and sweetly bewildered old lady.

  'When?' asked Alex. 'When did this happen, I mean?'

  'Just before you arrived,' said Gina. 'About - oh three or four minutes ago, I suppose. Why, of course, we actually heard the shot. Only we didn't notice it - not really.'

  'Didn't notice it? Why not?'

  'Well, you see, there were other things going on…' Gina spoke rather hesitantly.

  'Sure were,' said Walter with emphasis.

  Juliet Bellever came into the hall by the door from the library.

  'Mr Serrocold suggests that we should all wait in the library. It would be convenient for the police. Except for Mrs Serrocold. You've had a shock, Cara. I've ordered some hot bottles to be put in your bed. I'll take you up and ' Rising to her feet, Carrie Louise shook her head.

  'I must see Christian first,' she said.

  'Oh no, dear. Don't upset yourself-' Carrie Louise put her very gently to one side.

  'Dear Jolly - you don't understand.' She looked round and said, 'Jane?' Miss Marple had already moved towards her.

  'Come with me, will you, Jane.' They moved together towards the door. Dr Maverick, coming in, almost collided with them.

  Miss Bellever exclaimed: 'Dr Maverick. Do stop her. So foolish.' Carrie Louise looked calmly at the young doctor. She even gave a tiny smile.

  Dr Maverick said: 'You want to go and - see him?'

  'I must.'

  'I see.' He stood aside. 'If you feel you must, Mrs Serrocold. But afterwards, please go and lie down and let Miss Bellever look after you. At the moment you do not feel the shock, but I assure you that you will do so.'

  'Yes. I expect you are right. I will be quite sensible. Come, Jane.' The two women moved out through the door, past the foot of the main staircase and along the corridor, past the dining-room on the right and the double doors leading to the kitchen quarters on the left, past the side door to the terrace and on to the door that gave admission to the Oak suite that had been allotted to Christian Gulbrandsen. It was a room furnished as a sitting-room more than a bedroom, with a bed in an alcove to one side and a door leading into a dressing-room and bathroom.

  Carrie Louise stopped on the threshold. Christian Gulbrandsen had been sitting at the big mahogany desk with a small portable typewriter open in front of him. He sat there now, but slumped sideways in the chair. The high arms of the chair prevented him from slipping to the floor.

  Lewis Serrocold was standing by the window. He had pulled the curtain a little aside and was gazing out into the night.

  He looked round and frowned.

  'My dearest, you shouldn't have come.'

  He came towards her and she stretched out a hand to him. Miss Marple retreated a step or two.

  'Oh yes, Lewis. I had to - see him. One has to know just exactly how things are.'

  She walked slowly towards the desk.

  Lewis said warningly:

  'You mustn't touch anything. The police must have things left exactly as we found them.'

  'Of course. He was shot deliberately by someone, then?'

  'Oh yes.' Lewis Serrocold looked a little surprised that the question had even been asked. 'I thought - you knew that?'

  'I did really. Christian would not commit suicide, and he was such a competent person that it could not possibly have been an accident. That only leaves' - she hesitated a moment - 'murder.'

  She walked up behind the desk and stood looking down at the dead man. There was sorrow and affection in her face.

  'Dear Christian,' she said. 'He was always good to me.' Softly, she touched the top of his head with her fingers.

  'Bless you and thank you, dear Christian,' she said.

  Lewis Serrocold said with something more like emotion than Miss Marple had ever seen in him before: 'I wish to God I could have spared you this, Caroline.' His wife shook her head gently.

  'You can't really spare anyone anything,' she said.

  'Things always have to be faced sooner or later. And therefore it had better be sooner. I'll go and lie down now. I suppose you'll stay here, Lewis, until the police come?'

  'Yes.'

  Carrie Louise turned away and Miss Marple slipped an arm round her.

  Chapter 9

  Inspector Curry and his entourage found Miss Bellever alone in the Great Hall when they arrived.

  She came forward efficiently.

  'I am Juliet Bellever, companion and secretary to Mrs Serrocold.'

  'It was you who found the body and telephoned to us?'

  'Yes. Most of the household are in the library through that door there. Mr Serrocold remained in Mr Gulbrandsen's room to see that nothing was disturbed.

  Dr Maverick, who first examined the body, will be here very shor
tly. He had to take a - case over to the other wing. Shall I lead the way?'

  'If you please.'

  'Competent woman,' thought the Inspector to himself.

  'Seems to have got the whole thing taped.' He followed her along the corridor.

  For the next twenty minutes the routine of police procedure was duly set in motion. The photographer took the necessary pictures. The police surgeon arrived and was joined by Dr Maverick. Half an hour later, the ambulance had taken away the mortal remains of Christian Gulbrandsen, and Inspector Curry started his official interrogation.

  Lewis Serrocold took him into the library, and he glanced keenly round the assembled people, making brief notes in his mind. An old lady with white hair, a middle-aged lady, the good looking girl he'd seen driving her car round the countryside, that sulky looking American husband of hers. A couple of young men who were mixed up in the outfit somewhere or other and the capable woman, Miss Bellever, who'd phoned him and met him on arrival.

  Inspector Curry had already thought out a little speech and he now delivered it as planned.

  'I'm afraid this is all very upsetting to you,' he said, 'and I hope not to keep you too long this evening. We can go into things more thoroughly tomorrow. It was Miss Bellever who found Mr Gulbrandsen dead, and I'll ask Miss Bellever to give me an outline of the general situation as that will save too much repetition. Mr Serrocold, if you want to go up to your wife, please do, and when I have finished with Miss Bellever, I should like to talk to you. Is that all quite clear? Perhaps there is some small room where -'

  Lewis Serrocold said: 'My office, Jolly?'

  Miss Bellever nodded, and said: 'I was just going to suggest it.'

  She led the way across the Great Hall, and Inspector Curry and his attendant Sergeant followed her.

  Miss Bellever arranged them and herself suitably. It might have been she and not Inspector Curry who was in charge of the investigation.

  The moment had come, however, when the initiative passed to him. Inspector Curry had a pleasant voice and manner. He looked quiet and serious and just a little apologetic. Some people made the mistake of underrating him. Actually he was as competent in his way as Miss Bellever was in hers. But he preferred not to make a parade of the fact.

  He cleared his throat.

  'I've had the main facts from Mr Serrocold. Mr Christian Gulbrandsen was the eldest son of the late Eric Gulbrandsen, the founder of the Gulbrandsen Trust and Fellowships… and all the rest of it. He was one of the trustees of this place and he arrived here unexpectedly yesterday. That is correct?'

  'Yes.'

  Inspector Curry was pleased by her conciseness. He went on:

  'Mr Serrocold was away in Liverpool. He returned this evening by the 6.30 train.'

  'Yes.'

  'After dinner this evening, Mr Gulbrandsen announced his intention of working in his own room and left the rest of the party here after coffee had been served. Correct?'

  'Yes.'

  'Now, Miss Bellever, please tell me in your own words how you came to discover him dead.'

  'There was a rather unpleasant incident this evening. A young man, a psychopathic case, became very unbalanced and threatened Mr Serrocold with a revolver.

  They were locked in this room. The young man eventually fired the revolver - you can see the bullet holes in the wall there. Fortunately Mr Serrocold was unhurt. After firing the shots, this young man went completely to pieces. Mr Serrocold sent me to find Dr Maverick. I got through on the house phone but he was not in his room.

  I found him with one of his colleagues and gave him the message and he came here at once. On my own way back I went to Mr Gulbrandsen's room. I wanted to ask him if there was anything he would like - hot milk, or whisky, before settling for the night. I knocked, but there was no response, so I opened the door. I saw that Mr Gulbrandsen was dead. I then rang you up.'

  'What entrances and exits are there to the house? And how are they secured? Could anyone have come in from outside without being heard or seen?'

  'Anyone could have come in by the side door to the terrace. That is not locked until we all go to bed, as people come in and out that way to go to the College buildings.'

  'And you have, I believe, between two hundred and two hundred and fifty juvenile delinquents in the College?'

  'Yes. But the College buildings are well secured and patrolled. I should say it was most unlikely that anyone could leave the College unsponsored.'

  'We shall have to check up on that, of course. Had Mr Gulbrandsen given any cause for - shall we say, rancour? Any unpopular decisions as to policy?' Miss Bellever shook her head.

  'Oh no, Mr Gulbrandsen had nothing whatever to do with the running of the College, or with administrative matters.'

  'What was the purpose of his visit?'

  'I have no idea.'

  'But he was annoyed to find Mr Serrocold absent, and immediately decided to wait until he returned?'

  'Yes.'

  'So his business here was definitely with Mr Serrocold?'

  'Yes. But it would be - because it would be almost certainly business to do with the Institute.'

  'Yes, presumably that is so. Did he have a conference with Mr Serrocold?'

  'No, there was no time. Mr Serrocold only arrived just before dinner this evening.'

  'But after dinner, Mr Gulbrandsen said he had important letters to write and went away to do so. He didn't suggest a session with Mr Serrocold?' Miss Bellever hesitated.

  'No. No, he didn't.'

  'Surely that was rather odd - if he had waited on at inconvenience to himself to see Mr Serrocold?'

  'Yes, it was odd.'

  The oddness of it seemed to strike Miss Bellever for the first time.

  'Mr Serrocold did not accompany him to his room?'

  'No. Mr Serrocold remained in the Hall.'

  'And you have no idea at what time Mr Gulbrandsen was killed?'

  'I think it is possible that we heard the shot. If so, it was at twenty-three minutes past nine.'

  'You heard a shot? And it did not alarm you?'

  'The circumstances were peculiar.'

  She explained in rather more detail the scene between Lewis Serrocold and Edgar Lawson which had been in progress.

  'So it occurred to no one that the shot might actually have come from within the house?'

  'No. No, I certainly don't think so. We were all so relieved, you know, that the shot didn't come from in here.'

  Miss Bellever added rather grimly:

  'You don't expect murder and attempted murder in the same house on the same night.'

  Inspector Curry acknowledged the truth of that.

  'All the same,' said Miss Bellever, suddenly, 'you know, I believe that's what made me go along to Mr Gulbrandsen's room later. I did mean to ask him if he would like anything, but it was a kind of excuse to reassure myself that everything was all right.' Inspector Curry stared at her for a moment.

  'What made you think it mightn't be all right?'

  'I don't know. I think it was the shot outside. It hadn't meant anything at the time. But afterwards it came back into my mind. I told myself that it was only a backfire from Mr Restarick's car-'

  'Mr Restarick's car?'

  'Yes. Alex Restarick. He arrived by car this evening he arrived just after all this happened.'

  'I see. When you discovered Mr Gulbrandsen's body, did you touch anything in the room?'

  'Of course not.' Miss Bellever sounded reproachful. 'Naturally I knew that nothing must be touched or moved. Mr Gulbrandsen had been shot through the head but there was no firearm to be seen, so I knew it was murder.'

  'And just now, when you took us into the room, everything was exactly as it had been when you found the body?' Miss Bellever considered. She sat back screwing up her eyes. She had Inspector Curry thought, one of those photographic memories.

  'One thing was different,' she said. 'There was nothing in the typewriter.'

  'You mean,' said Inspector Cur
ry, 'that when you first went in Mr Gulbrandsen had been writing a letter on the typewriter, and that that letter had since been removed?'

  'Yes, I'm almost sure that I saw the white edge of the paper sticking up.'

  'Thank you, Miss Bellever. Who else went into that room before we arrived?'

  'Mr Serrocold, of course. He remained there when I came to meet you. And Mrs Serrocold and Miss Marple went there. Mrs Serrocold insisted.'

  'Mrs Serrocold and Miss Marple,' said Inspector Curry. 'Which is Miss Marple?'

  'The old lady with white hair. She was a school friend of Mrs Serrocold's. She came on a visit about four days ago.'

  'Well, thank you, Miss Bellever. All that you have told us is quite clear. I'll go into things with Mr Serrocold now. Ah, but perhaps - Miss Marple's an old lady, isn't she? I'll just have a word with her first and then she can go off to bed. Rather cruel to keep an old lady like that up,' said Inspector Curry virtuously. 'This must have been a shock to her.'

  'I'll tell her, shall I?'

  'If you please.'

  Miss Bellever went out. Inspector Curry looked at the ceiling.

  'Gulbrandsen?' he said. 'Why Gulbrandsen? Two hundred odd maladjusted youngsters on the premises.

  No reason any of them shouldn't have done it. Probably one of them did. But why Gulbrandsen? The stranger within the gates.'

  Sergeant Lake said: 'Of course we don't know everything yet.'

  Inspector Curry said:

  'So far, we don't know anything at all.'

  He jumped up and was gallant when Miss Marple came in. She seemed a little flustered and he hurried to put her at her ease.

  'Now don't upset yourself, m'am.' The old ones like M'am, he thought. To them, police officers were definitely of the lower classes and should show respect to their betters. 'This is all very distressing, I know. But we've just got to get the facts clear. Get it all clear.'

  'Oh yes, I know,' said Miss Marple. 'So difficult, isn't it? To be clear about anything, I mean. Because if you're looking at one thing, you can't be looking at another. And one so often looks at the wrong thing, though whether because one happens to do so or because you're meant to, it's very hard to say. Misdirection, the conjurers call it. So clever, aren't they? And I never have known how they manage with a bowl of goldfish - because really that cannot fold up small, can it?'