HASTINGS: [
Breaking the silence
] God help us when people begin protecting each other! When they start that—I’m through. [
Throws the notebook to
INGALLS] All right, Steve. Put it away. You win—for the moment. I’ll have a few questions to ask you about this—but not right now. [
To
ADRIENNE] Miss Knowland, if you were actually protecting him, you have no respect for my intelligence at all. You should have known I wouldn’t believe that Steve is guilty. I know a frame-up when I see one. [
To the others
] And for the information of the scoundrel who did this, I’d like to say that he’s an incredible fool. Did he really expect me to believe that Steve Ingalls—with his brilliant, methodical, scientific mind—would commit a sloppy crime like this? I could readily accept Steve as capable of murder. But if he ever committed one, it would be the finest job in the world. There wouldn’t be a hair’s weight of a clue. He’d have an alibi—as perfect as a precision instrument. But to think of Steve leaving fingerprints and cigarette butts behind! . . . I’d like to get the bastard who planned this and punch him in the nose. It’s not a case, it’s a personal insult to me! TONY: And to Steve.
HASTINGS: [
Rising
] I’ve had enough of this for tonight. Let’s get some sleep and some sense. I shall ask everybody not to leave this house, of course. I’ll have my men remain here—in this room and in the garden. I’ll be back early in the morning. I won’t ask you who killed Walter Breckenridge. I’ll know that when I find the answer to another question:
who framed Steve Ingalls? . . .
Good night. [
Exits into the garden, calling:
] Dixon! [
As the others move to rise slowly or look at one another,
INGALLS
turns and walks to the stairs.
ADRIENNE
—who has looked at no one but him—makes a step to follow him. He stops on the stairs, turns to her, says calmly:
]
INGALLS: I told you to wait. Sound vibrations travel very slowly, Adrienne. Not yet. [
Turns and exits up the stairs, as she stands looking after him
]
CURTAIN
SCENE 2
Early next morning. The room seems to be glowing. There is a clear blue sky outside and the house is flooded with sunlight.
HELEN
and
FLEMING
are sitting at a table, deep in conversation. It is a serious conversation, but their voices are simple, light, natural.
FLEMING: Would we go by boat or by train?
HELEN: A plane would be best, don’t you think? Easier for Billy and he’ll enjoy it.
FLEMING: Do we have to make arrangements with Dr. Harlan in advance?
HELEN: I think so. I’ll telephone him today.
FLEMING: Long-distance?
HELEN: Yes, of course. Why not?
FLEMING: Helen . . . is it going to be very expensive—the operation and all?
HELEN: We don’t have to worry about that.
FLEMING: Yes, Helen. We do.
HELEN: [
Looks at him. Then:
] Of course. Forgive me. Bad habits are very hard to lose.
FLEMING: I thought—
[ARIENNE
comes down the stairs. She walks as if her feet do not need to touch the ground. She wears a gay, simple summer dress. She looks like a person whose presence in a room would compete with the sunlight. But her manner is very simple; it is the manner of so profound a happiness that it cannot be anything but simple
]
ADRIENNE: Good morning.
FLEMING: [
Brightly
] Good morning, Adrienne.
HELEN: [
With a little effort
] Good morning.
ADRIENNE: Mr. Hastings arrived?
FLEMING: Not yet.
ADRIENNE: [
Looking through cigarette boxes
] Any Camels around here? I think I’ll take up smoking. Camels are wonderful things. God bless every Camel butt in the world! [
Finds a cigarette and lights it
]
FLEMING: Never saw you look like that, Adrienne. Slept well?
ADRIENNE: [
Walking to French doors
] Haven’t slept at all. I don’t see why people insist on sleeping. You feel so much better if you don’t. And how can anybody want to lose a minute—a single minute of being alive?
FLEMING: What’s the matter, Adrienne?
ADRIENNE: Nothing. [
Points to the garden
] It’s the Fourth of July. [
Exits into the garden
]
HELEN: [
Looks after her, then forces herself to return to the conversation
] When we go to Montreal—
FLEMING: Look, Helen, here’s what I thought: I’ll have to take the money from you for Billy’s operation. That’s one time when it’s proper for a man to accept help. But don’t
give
me the money. Lend it. And charge me a fair interest on it. That, you see, would really be an act of humanity.
HELEN: Yes, Harvey. That’s what we’ll do.
FLEMING: [
In a low voice
] Thank you.
HELEN: And, of course, we’ll take legal steps to make him “Billy Fleming” again. . . . But you won’t forbid me to visit him, will you?
FLEMING: [
Smiles happily, shaking his head. Then, at a sudden grim thought:
] Helen. There’s one more thing. It’s still possible that they’ll decide that one of us . . . that . . .
HELEN: Yes. That one of us is the murderer.
FLEMING: Well . . . shall we agree that . . . if it’s one of us . . . the other will take Billy to Montreal?
HELEN: Yes, Harvey. And if it’s not one of us, then we’ll go together.
[INGALLS
enters, coming down the stairs
]
INGALLS: Good morning.
HELEN: Good morning, Steve.
FLEMING: [
Looks at the two of them, then:
] Is Billy up yet?
INGALLS: Don’t know. I haven’t been downstairs.
FLEMING: Guess I’ll go to see if he’s up. [
Exits Right
]
INGALLS: [
Turning to
HELEN] Helen.
HELEN: [
Quietly
] I know.
INGALLS: Helen, will you marry me?
HELEN: [
Looks at him, startled, then shakes her head slowly
] No, Steve.
INGALLS: Do you think that I am afraid?
HELEN: No. But if I told you what I think of this, you’d be very angry. You’re never angry, except when people say nice things about you. [
As he is about to speak
] No, Steve. You don’t love me. Perhaps you thought you did. Perhaps you didn’t know who it was that you really loved. I think you know it now. I do. You can’t hurt me, Steve, except if you refuse to admit this. Because, then, I’ll know that you have no respect for me at all.
INGALLS: [
In a low voice
] I’m sorry, Helen.
HELEN: [
Nods her head slowly. Then forces herself to say lightly:
] Besides, you should have noticed that I never said I loved you.
INGALLS: I noticed something else.
HELEN: Oh, that? Well, you must be generous, Steve. You mustn’t hold a moment’s weakness against me. After all, you’re very attractive, and . . . and Adrienne was right about your manner of making love.
INGALLS: Helen, I’m making it harder for you.
HELEN: [
Calmly, her head high, looking straight at him
] No, Steve, no. I wanted to say it. And now I want you to forget it. No, I don’t love you. I’ve never loved you. I’ve known you all these years—I’ve seen you so often—I’ve looked at you—I’ve heard your voice. . . . But I never loved you.
INGALLS: Helen . . .
HELEN: And that, Steve, is all you have a right to remember.
[
She turns, walks to stairs. The doorbell rings. She stops on the stairs.
INGALLS
opens the door.
HASTINGS
enters
]
HASTINGS: Good morning.
HELEN: Good morning, Mr. Hastings.
INGALLS: Hello, Greg.
HASTINGS: [
To
INGALLS] It would be your face that I’d have to see first. All right, I suppose I’d better take you first. [
To
HELEN] Will you excuse me, Mrs. Breckenridge? This case has upset all my theories. I’ll have to revert to the conventional and question some of the people in private.
HELEN: Yes, of course. I shall be upstairs if you want me. [
Exits up the stairs
]
HASTINGS: [
Sitting down
] Goddamn this case. Couldn’t eat a bite of breakfast this morning.
INGALLS: Oh, I did. I had scrambled eggs and bacon and fresh strawberries and coffee and—
HASTINGS: All right, all right. It doesn’t prove anything. You’d eat as well whether you’d done it or not. Did you do it?
INGALLS: What do you think?
HASTINGS: You know what I think. But damn it, Steve, if I don’t solve this, it’s you that they’ll throw to the lions. The jury lions.
INGALLS: I don’t think I’m a good type for a martyr.
HASTINGS: No. But a swell type for a murderer.
INGALLS: Oh yes.
[DIXON
enters Right, carrying a stack of newspapers and a phonograph record
]
DIXON: Good morning, Chief. Here it is. [
Deposits his load on a table
]
HASTINGS: What about the shrubbery outside and the balcony?
DIXON: In perfect order. No broken branches. No footprints. Nothing. [
Picking up the record
] Rachmaninoff’s Prelude in G Minor all right. And the newspapers.
HASTINGS: [
Looks through the newspapers, stops at one
]
Who
reads the
Red Worker
?
DIXON: Mrs. Pudget.
HASTINGS: [
Having gone to the bottom of the pile
] No
Courier
?
DIXON: No
Courier.
HASTINGS: Damn it, Dixon, we’ve got to find it—or prove that it wasn’t here at all!
INGALLS: But it was here. I saw it.
HASTINGS: That’s the hell of it! Too many of you saw it. I don’t think that little Holy Russian rat would’ve had the guts to fake it with an earlier edition. And yet I know there’s something phony about that alibi. Dixon, look through the garbage cans, the incinerators, everything!
DIXON: We did.
HASTINGS: Look again.
DIXON: Okay, Chief. [
Exits Right
]
HASTINGS: Steve, don’t be too damn noble and tell me who’d really have a reason to frame you around here!
INGALLS: If you’ll take my word for it—and I wish you would—no one.
HASTINGS: No one?
INGALLS: I wouldn’t vouch for Serge. But I know of no reason why he’d kill Walter.
HASTINGS: You know, I’m sure he’s done it. Look at how it was done. So crude, so obvious. I don’t see anyone else staging a frame-up quite so blatantly and hoping to get away with it. It just smells “Serge” all over. A dull, presumptuous, Communist mind that counts on its insolence to overcome the intelligence of anyone else.
INGALLS: But you’ve got to prove it.
HASTINGS: Yes. And I can’t. Well, let’s see about the others. Tony Goddard? No reason for him to frame you. Fleming? Possible. Out of fear. Drunkards are not very strong people.
INGALLS: I’ll vouch for Fleming.
HASTINGS: Mrs. Breckenridge? No reason. Miss Knowland? . . . Now don’t pull out any notebooks. Steve, don’t refuse to answer this. I’ve got to ask it. You’re in love with Adrienne Knowland, aren’t you?
INGALLS: Desperately. Miserably. Completely. For many years.
HASTINGS: Why “miserably” for many years—when she loves you?
INGALLS: Because neither of us thought it possible of the other. . . . Why did you have to ask this?
HASTINGS: Because—what, then, was that love scene with Mrs. Breckenridge?
INGALLS: [
Shrugging
] A moment’s weakness. Despair, perhaps. Because I didn’t think that I could ever have the woman I wanted.
HASTINGS: You chose a nice day to be weak on.
INGALLS: Yes, didn’t I?
HASTINGS: [
Rising
] Well, I think I’ll have a little talk with Fleming now.
INGALLS: Will you be long?
HASTINGS: I don’t think so. [SERGE
enters Right.
HASTINGS
turns at the stairs
] Ah, good morning, Commissar.
SERGE: [
Stiffly
] That is not funny.
HASTINGS: No. But it could be. [
Exits up the stairs
]
SERGE: [
Sees the papers, hurries to look through them
] Ah, the newspapers. Have they the
Courier
found?
INGALLS: No.
SERGE: But that is unbelievable! I cannot understand it!
INGALLS: Don’t worry. They’ll find it—when the time comes. . . . You have nothing to worry about. Look at
me.
SERGE: [
Interested
] You are worried?
INGALLS: Well, wouldn’t you be? It’s all right for Greg to amuse himself with fancy deductions and to believe the most improbable. A jury won’t do that. A jury will love a case like mine. It’s easy on their conscience.
SERGE: [
As persuasively as he can make it
] That is true. I think the jury it would convict you. I think you have no chance.
INGALLS: Oh, I might have a chance. But it will take money.
SERGE: [
Attentively
] Money?
INGALLS: Lots of money. I’ll need a good lawyer.
SERGE: Yes. You will need a very good lawyer. And that is expensive.
INGALLS: Very expensive.
SERGE: Your case it is bad.
INGALLS: Very bad.
SERGE: You feel certain that you will be put on trial?
INGALLS: Looks like it.
SERGE: And . . . you do not have the money?
INGALLS: Oh, I suppose I can scrape some together, but you see, I’ve never made very much. Not like Walter. And what I made I put back into the laboratory. Oh, I guess I could raise some cash on that, but what’s the use? Even if I’m acquitted, I’ll be broke when I get out of it.