A GOOD DETECTIVE STORY is the thinking man's answer to the tawdry romance. Well-written and skillfully-plotted mysteries, at their best, provide both escapism and a challenge to those little gray cells Hercule Poirot used so well. A devoted mystery reader can--and does--spend hours in an effort to beat the author at his own game--chasing subtle clues, eliminating suspects, trying to fit the events into one of the classic formulas conceived by the venerable Dame Agatha Christie.

Christie, probably the most famous and certainly the most prolific of detective novelists, is the master of complex plots, ambiguous clues, and cardboard characters. Her stories are infamous for the trick endings--the sharp twist of plot indicting someone ostensibly cleared of suspicion or never suspected at all.

Ten Little Indians, a chilling book turned into a less-chilling play and movie, is a good example of a now classic mystery format: ten suspects marooned on an island, each having good reason to suspect the other of murder. The characters are all invited, through various ruses, to Indian Island as the guests of a host who never appears. Once settled on the island, the unknown host accuses all his guests in a tape recording of committing or acquiescing to murders. The guests die off, as the suspense builds and the characters realize that one of their number is a murderer.

Ten Little Indians contains the basic Christie trademarks--a cast of stereotyped characters--a retired general, a spinster, a professional man, a dashing playboy--and the usual shock ending. The plot and suspense rely on interaction between the characters--their growing suspicion of one another and the inexorable stripping of civilized facades. Beneath lie passions Christie believes can drive even the most unlikely people to murder. The success of the play thus relies on good acting to dramatize the character relationships, and fast-paced direction to highlight tension.

The Currier House production of Ten Little Indians fulfills these prerequisites, with a few glaring exceptions. The play is staged in the "Fishbowl," Currier's large glass-enclosed room, and the set effectively uses the Fishbowl's starkness and airiness to simulate the atmosphere of a deserted island. One imaginative touch is the set's use of the exit doors. David Reiffel, the set designer and the co-director, drapes a sheet outside the exit door and shines a soft blue light on it, evoking the idea of a terrace overlooking the sea.

The directors, Rieffel and David Frutkoff, have chosen to stage the play conventionally, focusing on characterization and plot rather than experimenting with tricky special effects. They competently coached the actors, allowing for the demands of the clues--the need for a particular character to be in a particular place without looking suspicious.

The major weakness of the production, however, lies in the directors' apparent inability to decide whether to play up or defuse the melodrama written into Ten Little Indians. Even allowing for what seemed to be a fairly lighthearted audience, the amount of laughter punctuating some of the most serious scenes makes for lags in suspense that mar an otherwise fine production. The laughter may in part be attributed to an outdated play, but the responsibility for staging the play's ending obviously belongs to the directors, and that ending falls very flat. It is simply too long and too overacted. Because the tension snaps when the murderer is revealed, the rather contrived ending is out of place, and instead of dragging it out, as the directors do, the lights should almost immediately fade. A quicker ending would keep the audience speculating on the trick solution.

The success of the play, however, ultimately relies on the quality of the acting, and in this production of Ten Little Indians the actors do a fairly good job. The somewhat colorless leads are adequately played by Ted Wiprud as Philip Lombard, the cynical adventurer, and Troy Segal, the flirtatious and sexy secretary, Vera Claythorne. Wiprud's role is admittedly somewhat stereotyped, and as he appropriately swaggers around the stage, flirting with the all-too-ready Vera, he gives the audience little more than a superficial performance of a one-dimensional character.

SEGAL FACES the same obstacles in her portrayal of Vera. She flirts and slithers very well around the stage, infusing the right amount of bitchiness into her essentially predatory character but is less effective at conveying fear. The result is occasional overacting, especially when mouthing words to herself in an attempt to display her growing hysteria.

Of the leads, Robert Zanon is most effective as the solemn and somewhat eerie Judge Laurence Wargrove, who organizes the guests' self-defense. Zanon is suitably authoritative and expresses well the mystery that surrounds each of the guests.

The performances of the supporting characters, however, provide the sparkle to the show. Ed Redlich shines as the brash American detective, William Blore. Redlich exploits beautifully the gluttony, thickheadedness and grating bluntness of Blore--a hilarious character. Equally good is Louisa Jerauld as the religion-obsessed, sexually repressed spinster Miss Brent. Jerauld's quivering voice and slow, shuffling walk suggest the righteous, moralizing old maid. David Rieffel, as the gentle, retired General John MacKenzie, also portrays his character sensitively, especially in his frightening monologue to Vera.

These fine performances and the sheer fun of trying to untangle the mystery make Ten Little Indians well worth watching and shivering over. Ignore the ending, concentrate on the mystery, and even money you can't outguess the great Christie.