Agatha Christie – They Do It With Mirrors

‘Mightn’t he be dangerous, Mr Serrocold?’ ‘Dangerous? I don’t think he has shown any suicidal tendencies.’ ‘I wasn’t thinking of suicide. He talked to me of enemies – of persecution. Isn’t that, forgive me – a dangerous sign?’ ‘I don’t really think it has reached such a pitch. But I’ll speak to Maverick. So far, he has been hopeful – very hopeful.’

He looked at his watch.

‘I must go. Ah, here is our dear Jolly. She will take charge of you.’

Miss Believer, arriving briskly, said, ‘The car is at the door, Mr Serrocold. Dr Maverick rang through from the Institute. I said I would bring Miss Marple over. He will meet us at the gates.’

‘Thank you. I must go. My brief case?’

‘In the car, Mr Serrocold.’

Lewis Serrocold hurried away. Looking after him, Miss Believer said:

‘Some day that man will drop dead in his tracks. It’s against human nature never to relax or rest. He only sleeps four hours a night.’

‘He is very devoted to this cause,’ said Miss Marple.

‘Never thinks of anything else,’ said Miss Bellever grimly. ‘Never dreams of looking after his wife or considering her in any way. She’s a sweet creature, as you know, Miss Marple, and she ought to.have love and attention. But nothing’s thought of or considered here except a lot of whining boys and young men who want to live easily and dishonestly and don’t care about the idea of doing a little hard work. What about the decent boys from decent homes? Why isn’t something done for them?

Honesty just isn’t interesting to cranks like Mr Serrocold and Dr Maverick and all the bunch of half-baked sentimentalists we’ve got here. I and my brothers were brought up the hard way, Miss Marple, and we weren’t encouraged to whine. Soft, that’s what the world is nowadays?

They had crossed the garden and passed through a palisaded gate and had come to the arched gate which Eric Gulbrandsen had erected as an entrance to his College, a sturdily built, hideous, red brick building.

Dr Maverick, looking, Miss Marple decided, distinctly abnormal himself, came out to meet them.

‘Thank you, Miss Believer,’ he said. ‘Now, Miss – er oh yes, Miss Marple – I’m sure you’re going to be interested in what we’re doing here. In our splendid approach to this great problem. Mr Serrocold is a man of great insight – great vision. And we’ve got Sir John Stillwell behind us – my old chief. He was at the Home Office until he retired and his influence turned the scales in getting this started. It’s a medical problem – that’s what we’ve got to get the legal authorities to understand.

Psychiatry came into its own in the war. The one positive good that did come out of it – Now first of all I want you to see our initial approach to the problem. Look up ‘ Miss Marple looked up at the words carved over the large arched doorway:

RECOVER HOPE ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE

‘Isn’t that splendid! Isn’t that just the right note to strike. You don’t want to scold these lads – or punish them. That’s what they’re hankering after half the time, punishment. We want to make them feel what fine fellows they are.’ ‘Like Edgar Lawson?’ said Miss Marple.

‘Interesting case, that. Have you been talking to him?’ ‘He has been talking to me,’ said Miss Marple. She added apologetically, ‘I wondered if, perhaps, he isn’t a little mad?.’ Dr Maverick laughed cheerfully.

‘We’re all mad, dear lady,’ he said as he ushered her in through the door. ‘That’s the secret of existence. We’re all a little mad.’

CHAPTER 6

On the whole it was rather an exhausting day.

Enthusiasm in itself can be extremely wearing, Miss Marple thought. She felt vaguely dissatisfied with herself and her own reactions. There was a pattern here perhaps several patterns, and yet she herself could obtain no clear glimpse of it or them. Any vague disquietude she felt centred round the pathetic but inconspicuous personality of Edgar Lawson. If she could only find in her memory the right parallel.

Painstakingly she rejected the curious behaviour of Mr Selkirk’s delivery van – the absent-minded postman – the gardener who worked on Whit Monday – and that very curious affair of the summer weight combinations.

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