The Mousetrap and Other Plays (12 page)

ARMSTRONG
. Safe—?

LOMBARD
. You're very silent, Vera?

VERA
. There isn't anything to say—(
Pause.
WARGRAVE
rises; to up Centre
) I wonder what the time is. It's this awful waiting—waiting for the hours to go by and yet feeling that they may be the last. What is the time?

LOMBARD
. Half past eight.

VERA
. Is that all?

LOMBARD
. Pretty awful light, this. How are the candles holding out?

BLORE
. There's a whole packet. Storm's dying down a bit, what do you think, sir? (
Rises; goes up to window.
)

WARGRAVE
. Perhaps. We mustn't get too optimistic.

ARMSTRONG
. The murderer's got everything on his side. Even the weather seems to be falling in with his plans.

(
WARGRAVE
sits Left sofa. Long pause.
)

BLORE
. (
Rising
) What about something to eat?

VERA
. (
Rises. Crossing up Left
) If you like, I'll go out and open some tongue and make some coffee. But you four stay here. (
To
WARGRAVE
) That's right, isn't it?

WARGRAVE
. Not quite. You see, Miss Claythorne, it might be inadvisable to eat or drink something that you had prepared out of our sight.

VERA
. Oh! (
Slowly
) You don't like me, do you?

WARGRAVE
. It's not a question of likes or dislikes.

(
VERA
sits down Left.
)

LOMBARD
. There are very few tricks that will get past you, Sir Lawrence. You know, if you won't be offended at my saying so, you're my fancy.

WARGRAVE
. (
Rises to Left, looking at him coldly through his spectacles in the best court manner
) This is hardly the moment, Captain Lombard, for any of us to indulge in the luxury of taking offence.

LOMBARD
. (
Up Right Centre
) I don't think it's Blore. (
To
BLORE
) I may be wrong, but I can't feel you've got enough imagination for this job. All I can say is, if you are the criminal, I take my hat off to you for a damned fine actor.

BLORE
. Thank you—for nothing. (
Sits Left sofa.
)

LOMBARD
. (
Pause. Looks at
ARMSTRONG
) I don't think it's the doctor. I don't believe he's got the nerve. (
Looks at
VERA
down Left
) You've got plenty of nerve, Vera. On the other hand, you strike me as eminently sane. Therefore, you'd only do murder if you had a thoroughly good motive.

VERA
. (
Sarcastically
) Thank you.

ARMSTRONG
. (
Rises
) I've thought of something.

LOMBARD
. Splendid. Animal, vegetable or mineral?

ARMSTRONG
. That man (
Points to
BLORE
) says he's a police officer. But we've no proof of that. He only said so after the gramophone record, when his name had been given. Before that he was pretending to be a South African millionaire. Perhaps the police officer is another impersonation. What do we know about him? Nothing at all.

LOMBARD
. He's a policeman all right. Look at his feet.

BLORE
. (
Rises and sits again
) That's enough from you, Mr. Lombard.

LOMBARD
. (
ARMSTRONG
sits chair Right Centre
) Well, now we know where we are. By the way, Miss Claythorne suspects you, Doctor. Oh, yes, she does. Haven't you seen her shoot a dirty look from time to time? It all works out quite prettily. I suspect Sir Lawrence. Blore suspects me. Armstrong suspects Blore. (
To
WARGRAVE
) What about you, sir?

WARGRAVE
. Quite early in the day, I formed a certain conclusion. It seemed to me that everything that had occurred pointed quite unmistakably to one person. (
Pause. He looks straight ahead.
) I am still of the same opinion. (
Above Left sofa
)

VERA
. Which one?

WARGRAVE
. Well—no, I think it would be inadvisable to mention that person's name at the present time.

LOMBARD
. Inadvisable in the public interest?

WARGRAVE
. Exactly.

(
EVERYONE
looks at each other.
)

BLORE
. What about the food idea?

ARMSTRONG
. No, no, let's stay here. We're safe here.

VERA
. I can't say I'm hungry.

LOMBARD
. I'm not ravenous myself. You can go out and have a guzzle by yourself, Blore.

BLORE
. Tell you what. Suppose I go and bring in a tin of biscuits? (
Rises to Left 2 door.
)

LOMBARD
. Good idea.

(
BLORE
starts to go.
)

LOMBARD
. Oh, Blore.

BLORE
. Eh?

LOMBARD
. An unopened tin, Blore.

(
BLORE
goes out; takes candle from bookcase. A pause
EVERYBODY
watches door. A gust of wind—the curtains rattle.
VERA
rises.
WARGRAVE
sits Left sofa.
)

LOMBARD
. It's only the wind—making the curtains rattle.

VERA
. (
Up Centre
) I wonder what happened to the bathroom curtain? The one that Rogers missed.

LOMBARD
. By the wildest stretch of imagination, I cannot see what any homicidal maniac wants with a scarlet oilsilk curtain.

VERA
. Things seem to have been disappearing. Miss Brent lost a skein of knitting wool.

LOMBARD
. So the murderer, whoever he or she is, is a kleptomaniac too.

VERA
. How does it go? “Five little Indian boys—”

LOMBARD
.

“Going in for law,

One got in Chancery—”

VERA
. In Chancery, but how could that apply? Unless, of course—(
She looks at
WARGRAVE
.)

WARGRAVE
. Precisely, my dear young lady. That's why I'm sitting right here.

LOMBARD
. Ah! But I'm casting you for the role of murderer—not victim.

WARGRAVE
. The term can apply to a boxer.

LOMBARD
. (
To
VERA
) Maybe we'll start a free fight. That seems to let you out, my dear.

VERA
. That awful rhyme. It keeps going round and round in my head. I think I'll remember it till I die. (
She realizes what she has said and looks around at the
OTHERS
.
Pause
) Mr. Blore's a long time.

LOMBARD
. I expect the big bad wolf has got him.

WARGRAVE
. I have asked you once before to try and restrain your rather peculiar sense of humour, Captain Lombard.

LOMBARD
. Sorry, sir. It must be a form of nervousness.

(
BLORE
enters Left 2 with a tin of biscuits.
VERA
to behind chair Right Centre.
WARGRAVE
rises to Left Centre, takes tin and opens it.
)

WARGRAVE
. Put your hands up. Search him.

(
ARMSTRONG
and
LOMBARD
cross to Left Centre; search
BLORE
.
ARMSTRONG
offers biscuits to
VERA
.)

VERA
. (
Sits Right Centre
) No, thank you.

(
BLORE
sits down Left.
)

LOMBARD
. Come now—you've had no dinner. (
To above
VERA
,
Right Centre.
)

VERA
. I couldn't eat anything.

LOMBARD
. I warn you—Blore will wolf the lot.

BLORE
. I don't see why you need be so funny about it. Starving ourselves won't do us any good. (
Sadly
) How are we off for cigarettes?

LOMBARD
. (
Takes out his case and opens it; sighs ruefully
) I haven't got any.

ARMSTRONG
. I've run out too.

WARGRAVE
. Fortunately, I'm a pipe smoker.

VERA
. (
Rousing herself. Crossing down Left
) I've got a whole box upstairs in my suitcase. I'll get them. I could do with a cigarette myself. (
Pauses at door
) See that you all stay where you are. (
Goes out Left 1 carrying a candle from bookcase.
)

(
WARGRAVE
to door, looking after her, leaving tin on sofa.
)

BLORE
. (
Rises; fetches tin from sofa—eating solidly, up Left Centre
) Not bad, these biscuits.

LOMBARD
. What are they, cheese?

BLORE
. Cheese and celery.

LOMBARD
. That girl ought to have had some. (
To Left.
)

ARMSTRONG
. Her nerves are in a bad state.

WARGRAVE
. (
To above Left sofa
) I don't know that I'd agree with you there, Doctor. Miss Claythorne strikes me as a very cool and resourceful young lady—quite remarkably so.

LOMBARD
. (
Up Left Centre—looking curiously at
WARGRAVE
) So that's your idea, is it? That she's the snake in the grass?

ARMSTRONG
. Hardly likely—a woman!

WARGRAVE
. You and I, Doctor, see women from slightly different angles.

BLORE
. (
Crossing down Right
) What does anyone say to a spot of whisky?

LOMBARD
. Good idea, providing we tackle an unopened bottle.

(
An appalling and bloodcurdling shriek of utter terror comes from overhead, and a heavy thud. All four men start up.
LOMBARD
and
BLORE
catch up candles.
BLORE
takes candle from mantelpiece. All four rush to door Left 1 and out in this order:
LOMBARD
,
BLORE
,
ARMSTRONG
and
WARGRAVE
—
the latter is slow getting under way, owing to age. Stage is quite dark as soon as
LOMBARD
and
BLORE
have gone through door and before
WARGRAVE
reaches door. Confused noises off. Then, on stage
,
WARGRAVE
's voice calls out, “Who's that?” Sound of a shot. A confused moving about on the stage; voices off also; off faint—then come nearer. Left 2 door opens. Then door Left 1.
BLORE
heard swearing off. Also
ARMSTRONG
's voice.
)

VERA
. (
Coming in Left 2, stumbling about
) Philip, Philip, where are you? I've lost you.

LOMBARD
. (
Coming in Left 1
) Here I am.

VERA
. Why can't we have some light? It's awful in the dark. You don't know where you are. You don't know where anyone is. (
Sits Left sofa.
)

LOMBARD
. It's that damned draught on the stairs—blowing all the candles out. Here, I've got a lighter. (
Lights his and her candle. Sits Left sofa.
)

VERA
. Where's Doctor Armstrong?

ARMSTRONG
. (
From hall
) I'm hunting for the matches.

LOMBARD
. Never mind matches—get some more candles.

VERA
. I was horrified to death—it went right around my throat—

LOMBARD
. What did?

VERA
. The window was open in my room. It blew out the candle as I opened the door. And then a long strand of seaweed touched my throat. I thought, in the dark, that I was being strangled by a wet hand—

(
Murmur off Left.
)

LOMBARD
. I don't wonder you yelled.

VERA
. Who hung that seaweed there?

LOMBARD
. I don't know. But when I find out, he'll be sorry he was ever born.

(
ARMSTRONG
comes quietly in from Left 1.
)

VERA
. (
Sharply
) Who's that?

(
WARN Curtain.
)

ARMSTRONG
. It's all right, Miss Claythorne. It's only me.

BLORE
. (
In hall
) Here we are. (
A faint glow through door as he lights candles. He comes in carrying candle. Crosses Right.
) Who fired that shot?

(
VERA
rises
;
moves Left Centre, turns and screams. Light reveals
WARGRAVE
sat upright on windowseat, red oilsilk curtain draped around shoulders. Grey skein of wool plaited into wig on his head. In centre of forehead is round dark mark with red trickling from it.
MEN
stand paralysed.
VERA
screams.
ARMSTRONG
pulls himself together, waves
OTHERS
to stand back and goes over to
WARGRAVE
.
Bends over him
;
straightens up.
)