The Mousetrap and Other Plays (113 page)

The room is rather old-fashioned and cramped for space. The walls are lined with books. An arch up
LC
leads to the rest of the building and there is a sash window across the corner up
R
.
A large desk and swivel chair stand in front of the window. There is a chair
C
for visitors, and a table covered with files is against the wall
L
.
There is a telephone on the desk.

When the
CURTAIN
rises, the stage is in darkness, then the
LIGHTS
come up.
JUSTIN
FOGG
is seated at the desk, speaking into the telephone. The window is half-open.
JUSTIN
is a young man in the early thirties, sober, staid, but likeable.

JUSTIN
. (
into the telephone
) I quite see your point, Mrs. Ross, but the Law can't be hurried, you know—

(
TURNBALL
, an elderly clerk, appears in the archway. He is carrying a file
)

—we have to wait for their solicitors to reply to our letter . . .

(
TURNBALL
coughs
)

(
To Turnball
) Come in, Turnball. (
Into the telephone
) No, it would be
most
inadvisable for you to take
any
steps yourself . . . Yes, we will keep you informed. (
He replaces the receiver
) Women!

(
TURNBALL
places the file on the desk in front of Justin
)

Miss Le Marchant?

TURNBALL
. She's here now, sir.

JUSTIN
. Show her in, Turnball. I don't want any interruptions
at all.
Put anything urgent through to Mr. Grimes.

TURNBALL
. Very good, sir.

(
TURNBALL
exits.
JUSTIN
rises, crosses to the table
L
, selects a file, returns to his desk, sits, and puts Turnball's file in the desk drawer.
TURNBALL
re-enters and stands to one side
)

(
He announces
) Miss Le Marchant.

(
CARLA
enters. She is aged twenty-one, pretty, and determined. She wears a coat and carries bag and gloves. She speaks with a Canadian accent.
TURNBALL
exits
)

JUSTIN
. (
rising, moving to Carla and offering his hand
) How do you do?

CARLA
. How do you do, Mr. Fogg? (
She looks at him in dismay, ignoring his outstretched hand
) But you're
young!

(
JUSTIN
looks at Carla for a moment, amused, although still formal
)

JUSTIN
. Thank you. But I can assure you I'm a fully qualified solicitor.

CARLA
. I'm sorry—it's just—that I expected you to be—rather old.

JUSTIN
. Oh, you expected my father? He died two years ago.

CARLA
. I see. I'm sorry. It was stupid of me. (
She offers him her hand
)

(
JUSTIN
shakes hands with Carla
)

JUSTIN
. (
indicating the chair
C
) Do sit down.

(
CARLA
sits
C
)

(
He returns to his desk and sits at it
) Now, tell me what I can do for you.

(
There is a pause whilst
CARLA
looks at Justin, a little uncertain how to begin
)

CARLA
. Do you know who I am?

JUSTIN
. Miss Carla Le Marchant of Montreal.

CARLA
. (
looking away
) My name isn't really Le Marchant.

JUSTIN
. Oh, yes, it is. Legally.

CARLA
. (
leaning forward
) So—you
do
know all about me?

JUSTIN
. We have acted for Mr. Robert Le Marchant over a number of years.

CARLA
. All right, then, let's get down to it. My name may be legally Le Marchant by adoption—or deed poll—or habeas corpus—or whatever the legal jargon is. (
She removes her gloves
) But I was born—(
she pauses
) Caroline Crale. Caroline was my mother's name, too. My father was Amyas Crale. Sixteen years ago my mother stood her trial for poisoning my father. They found her—guilty. (
She takes a deep breath. Defiantly
) That's right, isn't it?

JUSTIN
. Yes, those are the facts.

CARLA
. I only learned them six months ago.

JUSTIN
. When you came of age?

CARLA
. Yes. I don't think they wanted me to know. Uncle Robert and Aunt Bess, I mean. They brought me up believing my parents were killed in an accident when I was five years old. But my mother left a letter for me—to be given me when I was twenty-one, so they had to tell me all about it.

JUSTIN
. Unfortunate.

CARLA
. Do you mean you think they ought not to have told me?

JUSTIN
. No, no, I don't mean that at all. I meant it was unfortunate for
you
—it must have been a bad shock.

CARLA
. Finding out that my father was murdered and that my mother did it?

JUSTIN
. (
after a pause; kindly
) There were—extenuating circumstances, you know.

CARLA
. (
firmly
) It's not extenuating circumstances I'm interested in. It's facts.

JUSTIN
. Yes, facts. Well, you've got your facts. Now—you can put the whole thing behind you. (
He smiles encouragingly
) It's your future that matters now, you know, not the past. (
He rises and crosses above the desk of the table
L
)

CARLA
. I think, before I can go forward—I've got to—go back.

(
JUSTIN
, arrested and puzzled, turns to Carla
)

JUSTIN
. I beg your pardon?

CARLA
. It's not as simple as you make it sound. (
She pauses
) I'm engaged—or I was engaged—to be married.

(
JUSTIN
picks up the cigarette box from the table
L
and offers it to
CARLA
who takes a cigarette
)

JUSTIN
. I see. And your fiancé found out about all this?

CARLA
. Of course, I told him.

JUSTIN
. And he—er—reacted unfavourably? (
He replaces the box on the table
)

CARLA
. (
without enthusiasm
) Not at all. He was perfectly splendid. Said it didn't matter at all.

JUSTIN
. (
puzzled
) Well, then?

CARLA
. (
looking up at Justin
) It isn't what a person
says
. . . (
She leaves it at that
)

JUSTIN
. (
after a moment
) Yes, I see. (
He lights Carla's cigarette with the lighter from the table
L
) At least, I think I do.

CARLA
. Anyone can
say
things. It's what they
feel
that matters.

JUSTIN
. Don't you think that perhaps you're super-sensitive?

CARLA
. (
firmly
) No.

JUSTIN
. But, my dear girl . . .

CARLA
. Would
you
like to marry the daughter of a murderess? (
She looks at Justin
)

(
JUSTIN
looks down
)

(
Quietly
) You see, you wouldn't.

JUSTIN
. You didn't give me time to answer. I wouldn't particularly
want
to marry the daughter of a murderer, or of a drunkard or of a dope-fiend or of anything else unpleasant. (
He picks up the cigarette box, crosses above Carla to the desk and puts the lighter and cigarette box on it
) But what the hell, if I loved a girl, she could be the daughter of Jack the Ripper for all I cared.

CARLA
. (
looking around the room
) I don't believe you would mind as much as Jeff does. (
She shivers
)

JUSTIN
. Do you find it cold?

CARLA
. I think your central heating's kind of low.

JUSTIN
. It's kind of non-existent, I'm afraid. (
He smiles
) I mean, we haven't any. Shall I get them to light the fire for you?

CARLA
. No, please.

(
JUSTIN
looks at the window, sees it is open, quickly closes it, then leans over the desk to Carla
)

JUSTIN
. This Mr—er . . . This Jeff . . . ?

CARLA
. You'll see him. He's coming to call for me, if you don't mind. (
She looks at her wrist-watch
) Hell, I'm wasting time. I didn't come to consult you about my love life. (
Struck
) At least, I suppose I did. I've got to find out the truth, you see.

JUSTIN
. I told you just now that there were extenuating circumstances. Your mother was found guilty, but the jury made a strong recommendation to mercy. Her sentence was commuted to imprisonment.

CARLA
. And she died in prison three years later.

JUSTIN
. (
sitting at the desk
) Yes.

CARLA
. In her letter, my mother wrote that she wanted me to know definitely that she was innocent. (
She looks defiantly at Justin
)

JUSTIN
. (
unimpressed
) Yes.

CARLA
. You don't believe it?

JUSTIN
. (
carefully finding his words
) I think—a devoted mother—might want to do the best she could for her daughter's peace of mind.

CARLA
. No, no,
no!
She wasn't like that. She never told lies.

JUSTIN
. How can you know? You were a child of five when you saw her last.

CARLA
. (
passionately
) I do know. My mother didn't tell lies. When she took a thorn out of my finger once, she said it would hurt. And going to the dentist. All those things. She was never one to sugar the pill. What she said was always
true.
(
She rises quickly, and turns up
L
) And if she says she was innocent then she
was
innocent. You don't believe me—but it's
so.
(
She takes a handkerchief from her bag and dabs her eyes
)

JUSTIN
. (
rising
) It's better, always, to face the truth.

CARLA
. (
turning to him
) That is the truth.

JUSTIN
. (
shaking his head; quietly
) It isn't the truth.

CARLA
. How can you be so sure? Does a jury never make a mistake?

JUSTIN
. There are probably several guilty people walking around free, yes; because they've been given the benefit of the doubt. But in your mother's case—there wasn't any doubt.

CARLA
. You weren't there. It was your father who attended the case . . .

JUSTIN
. (
interrupting
) My father was the solicitor in charge of the defence, yes.

CARLA
. Well—
he
thought her innocent, didn't he?

JUSTIN
. Yes. (
Embarrassed
) Yes, of course. You don't quite understand these things . . .

CARLA
. (
cynically
) You mean that it was
technical
only?

(
JUSTIN
is slightly at a loss how to explain
)

(
She moves
C
,
in front of her chair
) But he himself, personally—what did
he
think?

JUSTIN
. (
stiffly
) Really, I've no idea.

CARLA
. Yes, you have. He thought she was guilty. (
She turns and faces
L
) And you think so, too. (
She pauses, then turns to Justin
) But how is it that you remember it all so well?

JUSTIN
. (
looking steadily at her
) I was eighteen—just going up to Oxford—not in the firm, yet—but—interested. (
Remembering
) I was in court every day.

CARLA
. What did you think? Tell me. (
She sits
C
.
Eagerly
) I have to know.

JUSTIN
. Your mother loved your father desperately—but he gave her a raw deal—he brought his mistress into the house—subjected your mother to humiliation and insult. Mrs. Crale endured more than any woman could be expected to endure. He drove her too far. The means were to hand—try and understand. Understand and forgive. (
He crosses above the desk and stands down
L
)