Miss Marple – Miss Marple and Mystery: The Complete Short Stories. Агата Кристи

and produced her card, and asked for Count Streptitch without a shade of hesitation in her manner. She fancied that the clerk looked at her rather curiously. He took the card, however, and gave it to a small page boy with some low-voiced instructions which Jane did not catch. Presently the page returned, and Jane was invited to accompany him. They went up in the lift and along a corridor to some big double doors where the page knocked. A moment later Jane found herself in a big room, facing a tall thin man with a fair beard, who was holding her card in a languid white hand.

      ‘Miss Jane Cleveland,’ he read slowly. ‘I am Count Streptitch.’

      His lips parted suddenly in what was presumably intended to be a smile, disclosing two rows of white even teeth. But no effect of merriment was obtained.

      ‘I understand that you applied in answer to our advertisement,’ continued the count. ‘The good Colonel Kranin sent you on here.’

      ‘He was a colonel,’ thought Jane, pleased with her perspicacity, but she merely bowed her head.

      ‘You will pardon me if I ask you a few questions?’

      He did not wait for a reply, but proceeded to put Jane through a catechism very similar to that of Colonel Kranin. Her replies seemed to satisfy him. He nodded his head once or twice.

      ‘I will ask you now, mademoiselle, to walk to the door and back again slowly.’

      ‘Perhaps they want me to be a mannequin,’ thought Jane, as she complied. ‘But they wouldn’t pay two thousand pounds to a mannequin. Still, I suppose I’d better not ask questions yet awhile.’

      Count Streptitch was frowning. He tapped on the table with his white fingers. Suddenly he rose, and opening the door of an adjoining room, he spoke to someone inside.

      He returned to his seat, and a short middle-aged lady came through the door, closing it behind her. She was plump and extremely ugly, but had nevertheless the air of being a person of importance.

      ‘Well, Anna Michaelovna,’ said the count. ‘What do you think of her?’

      The lady looked Jane up and down much as though the girl had been a wax-work at a show. She made no pretence of any greeting.

      ‘She might do,’ she said at length. ‘Of actual likeness in the real sense of the word, there is very little. But the figure and the colouring are very good, better than any of the others. What do you think of it, Feodor Alexandrovitch?’

      ‘I agree with you, Anna Michaelovna.’

      ‘Does she speak French?’

      ‘Her French is excellent.’

      Jane felt more and more of a dummy. Neither of these strange people appeared to remember that she was a human being.

      ‘But will she be discreet?’ asked the lady, frowning heavily at the girl.

      ‘This is the Princess Poporensky,’ said Count Streptitch to Jane in French. ‘She asks whether you can be discreet?’

      Jane addressed her reply to the princess.

      ‘Until I have had the position explained to me, I can hardly make promises.’

      ‘It is just what she says there, the little one,’ remarked the lady. ‘I think she is intelligent, Feodor Alexandrovitch – more intelligent than the others. Tell me, little one, have you also courage?’

      ‘I don’t know,’ said Jane, puzzled. ‘I don’t particularly like being hurt, but I can bear it.’

      ‘Ah! that is not what I mean. You do not mind danger, no?’

      ‘Oh!’ said Jane. ‘Danger! That’s all right. I like danger.’

      ‘And you are poor? You would like to earn much money?’

      ‘Try me,’ said Jane with something approaching enthusiasm.

      Count Streptitch and Princess Poporensky exchanged glances. Then, simultaneously, they nodded.

      ‘Shall I explain matters, Anna Michaelovna?’ the former asked.

      The princess shook her head.

      ‘Her Highness wishes to do that herself.’

      ‘It is unnecessary – and unwise.’

      ‘Nevertheless those are her commands. I was to bring the girl in as soon as you had done with her.’

      Streptitch shrugged his shoulders. Clearly he was not pleased. Equally clearly he had no intention of disobeying the edict. He turned to Jane.

      ‘The Princess Poporensky will present you to Her Highness the Grand Duchess Pauline. Do not be alarmed.’

      Jane was not in the least alarmed. She was delighted at the idea of being presented to a real live grand duchess. There was nothing of the Socialist about Jane. For the moment she had even ceased to worry about her hat.

      The Princess Poporensky led the way, waddling along with a gait that she managed to invest with a certain dignity in spite of adverse circumstances. They passed through the adjoining room, which was a kind of antechamber, and the princess knocked upon a door in the farther wall. A voice from inside replied and the princess opened the door and passed in, Jane close upon her heels.

      ‘Let me present to you, madame,’ said the princess in a solemn voice, ‘Miss Jane Cleveland.’

      A young woman who had been sitting in a big armchair at the other end of the room jumped up and ran forward. She stared fixedly at Jane for a minute or two, and then laughed merrily.

      ‘But this is splendid, Anna,’ she replied. ‘I never imagined we should succeed so well. Come, let us see ourselves side by side.’

      Taking Jane’s arm, she drew the girl across the room, pausing before a full-length mirror which hung on the wall.

      ‘You see?’ she cried delightedly. ‘It is a perfect match!’

      Already, with her first glance at the Grand Duchess Pauline, Jane had begun to understand. The Grand Duchess was a young woman perhaps a year or two older than Jane. She had the same shade of fair hair, and the same slim figure. She was, perhaps, a shade taller. Now that they stood side by side, the likeness was very apparent. Detail for detail, the colouring was almost exactly the same.

      The Grand Duchess clapped her hands. She seemed an extremely cheerful young woman.

      ‘Nothing could be better,’ she declared. ‘You must congratulate Feodor Alexandrovitch for me, Anna. He has indeed done well.’

      ‘As yet, madame,’ murmured the princess, in a low voice, ‘this young woman does not know what is required of her.’

      ‘True,’ said the Grand Duchess, becoming somewhat calmer in manner. ‘I forgot. Well, I will enlighten her. Leave us together, Anna Michaelovna.’

      ‘But, madame –’

      ‘Leave us alone, I say.’

      She stamped her foot angrily. With considerable reluctance Anna Michaelovna left the room. The Grand Duchess sat down and motioned to Jane to do the same.

      ‘They are tiresome, these old women,’ remarked Pauline. ‘But one has to have them. Anna Michaelovna is better than most. Now then, Miss – ah, yes, Miss Jane Cleveland. I like the name. I like you too. You are sympathetic. I can tell at once if people are sympathetic.’

      ‘That’s very clever of you, ma’am,’ said Jane, speaking for the first time.

      ‘I am clever,’ said Pauline calmly. ‘Come now, I will explain things to you. Not that there is much to explain. You know the history of Ostrova. Practically all of my family are dead – massacred by the Communists. I am, perhaps, the last of my line. I am a woman, I cannot sit upon the throne. You think they would let me be. But no, wherever I go attempts are made to assassinate me. Absurd, is it not? These vodka-soaked brutes never have any sense of proportion.’