Agatha Christie is the author who made me start reading. Before that, I had never read fiction out of my own will.
But after a while, my opinion began to change a little—I knew that whichever of her books I picked up, it would definitely keep me interested until the end, but nothing beyond that. One of the obstacles was that I often figured out the criminal quite a bit before the ending. I owed this to the fact that she is the queen of the genre, and people have been borrowing from her work for almost 100 years (well, a bit less, but “100” sounds more elegant :D). In short, I had already seen every type of case slightly altered somewhere else. But luckily, this story/play made me notice something I hadn’t realized until now.
Let’s begin.
Usually, we are used to Agatha Christie’s books having a crime, and Hercule Poirot or Miss Marple being the ones to solve it by the end. Until now, I hadn’t really thought about it, but I actually love both of them. They are balanced, observant, with a sense of humor. Even though they catch the criminal, they don’t judge them—of course, they also don’t justify them. Despite the crime, they manage to create a certain coziness. No matter how complicated everything seems, as long as they’re around, there’s no problem.
In The Witness for the Prosecution, it’s a bit different because we are in the head of the lawyer, Mr. Mayherne. Because of his profession, he cannot be quite like the characters I mentioned above. His goal is not simply to be the smart person who happens to stumble upon a crime. He has to be a lawyer, and this is where the big difference lies. 🕵️♂️
With Poirot and Marple, the coziness comes from the fact that they always hold control in their hands—no matter how grim the crime is, you feel there’s someone who will put the puzzle together. With Mr. Mayherne in The Witness for the Prosecution, we don’t have that same sense of calm. He is a man of the law, bound by the framework of evidence, witness testimony, and procedural rules. His mind is sharp, but there’s a constant tension between his desire to believe his client and his professional duty to remain objective.
What struck me is how Agatha Christie uses the lawyer as a mirror for the reader. While Poirot hands you the solution like a teacher who already knows the answer, with Mr. Mayherne you’re right inside his doubts. You pass through his hesitations, his attempts to make sense out of fragmented clues, and most importantly—you feel the uncertainty of whether truth can ever truly be reached.
And that’s the strength of this text—it’s less of a cozy puzzle and more of a moral trap. There are no clean lines between good and evil, but rather a human fate, where every word, every smile, and every pause in court can tip the scales. By the end, you’re left not so much with intellectual satisfaction, but with the question: “Would I even recognize the truth if I saw it?”
After this story, I’ll most likely pick up another Christie book soon, because this time I’ll focus more on the other things, not just on the crime itself.
Pre_read
I’ll be traveling by train and I want something short to read. I think this will do a great job.