Agatha Christie – They Do It With Mirrors

‘I moved the curtains as you told me, sir,’ he said. ‘And counted thirty. I noticed that the curtains have a hook torn off at the top. Means that there’s a gap. You’d see the light in the room from outside.’

Inspector Curry said to Alex:

‘Did you notice light streaming out from that window last night?’

‘I couldn’t see the house at all because of the fog. I told you so.’

‘Fog’s patchy, though. Sometimes it clears for a minute here and there.’

‘It never cleared so that I could see the house – the main part, that is. The gymnasium building close at hand loomed up out of the mist in a deliciously unsubstantial way. It gave a perfect illusion of dock warehouses. As I told you, I am putting on a Limehouse Ballet and ‘ ‘You told me,’ agreed Inspector Curry.

‘One gets in the habit, you know, of looking at things from the point of view of a stage set, rather than from the point of view of reality.’ ‘I daresay. And yet a stage set’s real enough, isn’t it, Mr Restarick?’ ‘I don’t see exactly what you mean, Inspector.’ ‘Well, it’s made of real materials – canvas and wood and paint and cardboard. The illusion is in the eye of the beholder, not in the set itself. That, as I say, is real enough, as real behind the scenes as it is in front.’ Alex stared at him.

‘Now that, you know, is a very penetrating remark, Inspector. It’s given me an idea.’ ‘For another ballet?’ ‘No, not for another ballet… Dear me, I wonder if we’ve all been rather stupid?’

III

The Inspector and Dodgett went back to the house across the lawn. (Looking for footprints, Alex said to himself.

But here he was wrong. They had looked for footprints very early that morning and had been unsuccessful because it had rained heavily at 2 a.m.) Alex walked slowly up the drive, turning over in his mind the possibilities of his new idea.

He was diverted from this, however, by the sight of Gina walking on the path by the lake. The house was on a slight eminence, and the ground sloped gently down from the from sweeps of gravel to the lake, which was bordered by rhododendrons and other shrubs. Alex ran down the gravel and found Gina.

‘If you could black out that absurd Victorian monstrosity,’ he said, screwing up his eyes, ‘this would make a very good Swan Lake, with you, Gina, as the Swan Maiden. You are more like the Snow Queen though, when I come to think of it. Ruthless, determined to have your own way, quite without pity or kindliness or the rudiments of compassion. You are very, very feminine, Gina dear.’ ‘How malicious you are, Alex dear!’ ‘Because I refuse to be taken in by you? You’re very pleased with yourself, aren’t you, Gina? You’ve got us all where you want us. Myself, Stephen, and that large simple husband of yours.’ ‘You’re talking nonsense.’ ‘Oh no, I’m not. Stephen’s in love with you. I’m in love with you, and Wally’s desperately miserable. What more could a woman want?’ Gina looked at him and laughed.

Alex nodded his head vigorously.

‘You have the rudiments of honesty, I’m glad to see.

That’s the Latin in you. You don’t go to the trouble of pretending that you’re not attractive to men – and that you’re terribly sorry about it if they are attracted to you.

You like having men in love with you, don’t you, cruel Gina? Even miserable little Edgar Lawson?

Gina looked at him steadily.

She said in a quiet serious tone: ‘It doesn’t last very long, you know. Women have a much worse time of it in the world than men do. They’re more vulnerable. They have children, and they mind terribly – about their children. As soon as they lose their looks, the men they love don’t love them any more.

They’re betrayed and deserted and pushed aside. I don’t blame men. I’d be the same myself. I don’t like people who are old or ugly or ill or who whine about their troubles or who are ridiculous like Edgar, strutting about and pretending he’s important and worthwhile. You say I’m cruel? It’s a cruel world! Sooner or later it will be cruel to me! But now I’m young and I’m nice looking and people find me attractive.’ Her teeth flashed out in her peculiar warm sunny smile. ‘Yes, I enjoy it, Alex. Why shouldn’t I?’ ‘Why indeed?’ said Alex. ‘What I want to know is what are you going to do about it. Are you going to marry Stephen or are you going to marry me?’ ‘I’m married to Wally.’ ‘Temporarily. Every woman should make one mistake matrimonially – but there’s no need to dwell on it.

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