They Do It With Mirrors by Agatha Christie Page B

them.
    Miss Marple gently urged Carrie Louise into a chair. She sat down, her eyes looking hurt and stricken.
    â€œChristian—shot?” she said again.
    It was the bewildered, hurt tone of a child.
    Walter Hudd remained close by 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:
    â€œBut who could possibly want to shoot Christian? ”
    It was not a question that demanded an answer.
    Walter muttered under his breath:
    â€œNuts! 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.
    â€œHullo, 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 realised 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:
    â€œYou did expect me? You got my wire?”
    He was speaking now to Carrie Louise. He came towards her.
    Almost mechanically, she put up her hand to him. He took it and kissed it gently. It was an affectionate act of homage, not a mere theatrical courtesy.
    She murmured:
    â€œOf course, Alex dear—of course. Only, you see—things have been happening—”
    â€œHappening?”
    Mildred gave the information, gave it with a kind of grim relish that Miss Marple found distasteful.
    â€œChristian Gulbrandsen,” she said. “My brother Christian Gulbrandsen has been found shot dead.”
    â€œGood God,” Alex registered a more than life-size dismay. “Suicide, do you mean?”
    Carrie Louise moved swiftly.
    â€œOh no,” she said. “It couldn’t be suicide. Not Christian! Oh no.”
    â€œUncle 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.
    â€œWhen?” asked Alex. “When did this happen, I mean?”
    â€œJust before you arrived,” said Gina. “About—oh three or fourminutes ago, I suppose. Why, of course, we actually heard the shot. Only we didn’t notice it—not really.”
    â€œDidn’t notice it? Why not?”
    â€œWell, you see, there were other things going on …” Gina spoke rather hesitantly.
    â€œSure were,” said Walter with emphasis.
    Juliet Bellever came into the Hall by the door from the library.
    â€œMr. 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.
    â€œI must see Christian first,” she said.
    â€œOh, no, dear. Don’t