The Mousetrap and Other Plays (54 page)

GILES
. Oh yes. My wife's an excellent manager. Anyway, we can always eat our hens.

MISS CASEWELL
. Before we start eating each other, eh?

(
She laughs stridently and throws the overcoat at
GILES
,
who catches it. She sits in the armchair Centre.
)

CHRISTOPHER
. (
Rising and crossing to the fire
) Any news in the paper apart from the weather?

MISS CASEWELL
. Usual political crisis. Oh yes, and a rather juicy murder!

CHRISTOPHER
. A murder? (
Turning to
MISS CASEWELL
) Oh, I
like
murder!

MISS CASEWELL
. (
Handing him the paper
) They seem to think it was a homicidal maniac. Strangled a woman somewhere near Paddington. Sex maniac, I suppose. (
She looks at
GILES
.)

(
GILES
crosses to Left of the sofa table.
)

CHRISTOPHER
. Doesn't say much, does it? (
He sits in the small armchair Right and reads
) “The police are anxious to interview a man seen in the vicinity of Culver Street at the time. Medium height, wearing darkish overcoat, lightish scarf and soft felt hat. Police messages to this effect have been broadcast throughout the day.”

MISS CASEWELL
. Useful description. Fit pretty well anyone, wouldn't it?

CHRISTOPHER
. When it says that the police are anxious to interview someone, is that a polite way of hinting that he's the murderer?

MISS CASEWELL
. Could be.

GILES
. Who was the woman who was murdered?

CHRISTOPHER
. Mrs. Lyon. Mrs. Maureen Lyon.

GILES
. Young or old?

CHRISTOPHER
. It doesn't say. It doesn't seem to have been robbery . . .

MISS CASEWELL
. (
To
GILES
) I told you—sex maniac.

(
MOLLIE
comes down the stairs and crosses to
MISS CASEWELL
.)

GILES
. Here's Miss Casewell, Mollie. My wife.

MISS CASEWELL
. (
Rising
) How d'you do? (
She shakes hands with
MOLLIE
vigorously.
)

(
GILES
picks up her case.
)

MOLLIE
. It's an awful night. Would you like to come up to your room? The water's hot if you'd like a bath.

MISS CASEWELL
. You're right, I would.

(
MOLLIE
and
MISS CASEWELL
exit to the stairs Left.
GILES
follows them, carrying the case. Left alone,
CHRISTOPHER
rises and makes an exploration. He opens the door down Left, peeps in and then exits. A moment or two later he reappears on the stairs Left. He crosses to the arch up Right and looks off. He sings “Little Jack Horner” and chuckles to himself, giving the impression of being slightly unhinged mentally. He moves behind the refectory table.
GILES
and mollie
enter from the stairs Left, talking.
CHRISTOPHER
hides behind the curtain.
MOLLIE
moves above the armchair Centre and
GILES
moves to the Right end of the refectory table.
)

MOLLIE
. I must hurry out to the kitchen and get on with things. Major Metcalf is very nice. He won't be difficult. It's Mrs. Boyle really frightens me. We
must
have a nice dinner. I was thinking of opening two tins of minced beef and cereal and a tin of peas, and mashing the potatoes. And there's stewed figs and custard. Do you think that will be all right?

GILES
. Oh—I should think so. Not—not very original, perhaps.

CHRISTOPHER
. (
Coming from behind the curtains and moving between
GILES
and
MOLLIE
) Do let me help. I adore cooking. Why not an omelette? You've got eggs, haven't you?

MOLLIE
. Oh yes, we've got plenty of eggs. We keep lots of fowls. They don't lay as well as they should, but we've put down a lot of eggs.

(
GILES
breaks away Left.
)

CHRISTOPHER
. And if you've got a bottle of cheap, any-type wine, you could add it to the—“minced beef and cereals,” did you say? Give it a continental flavour. Show me where the kitchen is and what you've got, and I daresay I shall have an inspiration.

MOLLIE
. Come on.

(
MOLLIE
and
CHRISTOPHER
exit through the archway Right to the kitchen.
GILES
frowns, ejaculates something uncomplimentary to
CHRISTOPHER
and crosses to the small armchair down Right. He picks up the newspaper and stands reading it with deep attention. He jumps as
MOLLIE
returns to the room and speaks.
)

Isn't he sweet? (
She moves above the sofa table.
) He's put on an apron and he's getting all the things together. He says leave it all to him and don't come back for half an hour. If our guests want to do the cooking themselves, it will save a lot of trouble.

GILES
. Why on earth did you give him the best room?

MOLLIE
. I told you, he liked the fourposter.

GILES
. He liked the pretty fourposter. Twerp!

MOLLIE
. Giles!

GILES
. I've got no use for that kind. (
Significantly
)
You
didn't handle his suitcase, I did.

MOLLIE
. Had it got bricks in it? (
She crosses to the armchair Centre and sits.
)

GILES
. It was no weight at all. If you ask me there was
nothing
inside it. He's probably one of those young men who go about bilking hotel keepers.

MOLLIE
. I don't believe it. I like him. (
She pauses.
) I think Miss Casewell's rather peculiar, don't you?

GILES
. Terrible female—if she
is
a female.

MOLLIE
. It seems very hard that all our guests should be either unpleasant or odd. Anyway, I think Major Metcalf's all right, don't you?

GILES
. Probably drinks!

MOLLIE
. Oh, do you think so?

GILES
. No, I don't. I was just feeling rather depressed. Well, at any rate we know the worst now. They've all arrived.

(
The door bell rings.
)

MOLLIE
. Who can that be?

GILES
. Probably the Culver Street murderer.

MOLLIE
. (
Rising
) Don't!

(
GILES
exits up Right to the front door.
MOLLIE
crosses to the fire.
)

GILES
. (
Off
) Oh.

(
MR
.
PARAVICINI
staggers in up Right, carrying a small bag. He is foreign and dark and elderly with a rather flamboyant moustache. He is a slightly taller edition of Hercule Poirot, which may give a wrong impression to the audience. He wears a heavy fur-lined overcoat. He leans on the Left side of the arch and puts down the bag.
GILES
enters.
)

PARAVICINI
. A thousand pardons. I am—where am I?

GILES
. This is Monkswell Manor Guest House.

PARAVICINI
. But what stupendous good fortune! Madame! (
He moves down to
MOLLIE
,
takes her hand and kisses it.
)

(
GILES
crosses above the armchair Centre.
)

What an answer to prayer. A guest house—and a charming hostess. My Rolls-Royce, alas, has run into a snowdrift. Blinding snow everywhere. I do not know where I am. Perhaps, I think to myself, I shall freeze to death. And then I take a little bag, I stagger through the snow, I see before me big iron gates. A habitation! I am saved. Twice I fall into the snow as I come up your drive, but at last I arrive and immediately—(
He looks round
) despair turns to joy. (
Changing his manner
) you can let me have a room—yes?

GILES
. Oh yes . . .

MOLLIE
. It's rather a small one, I'm afraid.

PARAVICINI
. Naturally—naturally—you have other guests.

MOLLIE
. We've only just opened this place as a guest house today, and so we're—we're rather new at it.

PARAVICINI
. (
Leering at
MOLLIE
) Charming—charming . . .

GILES
. What about your luggage?

PARAVICINI
. That is of no consequence. I have locked the car securely.

GILES
. But wouldn't it be better to get it in?

PARAVICINI
. No, no. (
He moves up to Right of
GILES
.) I can assure you on such a night as this, there will be no thieves abroad. And for me, my wants are very simple. I have all I need—here—in this little bag. Yes, all that I need.

MOLLIE
. You'd better get thoroughly warm.

(
PARAVICINI
crosses to the fire.
)

I'll see about your room. (
She moves to the armchair Centre.
) I'm afraid it's rather a cold room because it faces north, but all the others are occupied.

PARAVICINI
. You have several guests, then?

MOLLIE
. There's Mrs. Boyle and Major Metcalf and Miss Casewell and a young man called Christopher Wren—and now—you.

PARAVICINI
. Yes—the unexpected guest. The guest that you did not invite. The guest who just arrived—from nowhere—out of the storm. It sounds quite dramatic, does it not? Who am I? You do not know. Where do I come from? You do not know. Me, I am the man of mystery. (
He laughs.
)

(
MOLLIE
laughs and looks at
GILES
,
who grins feebly.
PARAVICINI
nods his head at
MOLLIE
in high good humour.
)

But now, I tell you this. I complete the picture. From now on there will be no more arrivals. And no departures either. By tomorrow—perhaps even already—we are cut off from civilization. No butcher, no baker, no milkman, no postman, no daily papers—nobody and nothing but ourselves. That is admirable—admirable. It could not suit me better. My name, by the way, is Paravicini. (
He moves down to the small armchair Right.
)

(
GILES
moves to Left of
MOLLIE
.)

PARAVICINI
. Mr. and Mrs. Ralston? (
He nods his head as they agree. He looks round him and moves up to Right of
MOLLIE
.) And this—is Monkswell Manor Guest House, you said? Good. Monkswell Manor Guest House. (
He laughs.
) Perfect. (
He laughs.
) Perfect. (
He laughs and crosses to the fireplace.
)

(
MOLLIE
looks at
GILES
and they look at
PARAVICINI
uneasily as the Curtain falls.
)

CURTAIN

Scene II

SCENE
:
The same. The following afternoon.

When Curtain rises it is not snowing, but snow can be seen banked high against the window.
MAJOR METCALF
is seated on the sofa reading a book, and
MRS. BOYLE
is sitting in the large armchair Right in front of the fire, writing on a pad on her knee.

MRS
.
BOYLE
. I consider it
most
dishonest not to have told me they were only just starting this place.

MAJOR METCALF
. Well, everything's got to have a beginning, you know. Excellent breakfast this morning. Good coffee. Scrambled eggs, homemade marmalade. And all nicely served, too. Little woman does it all herself.

MRS
.
BOYLE
. Amateurs—there should be a proper staff.

MAJOR METCALF
. Excellent lunch, too.

MRS
.
BOYLE
. Cornbeef.

MAJOR METCALF
. But very well-disguised cornbeef. Red wine in it. Mrs. Ralston promised to make a pie for us tonight.

MRS
.
BOYLE
. (
Rising and crossing to the radiator
) These radiators are not really hot. I shall speak about it.

MAJOR METCALF
. Very comfortable beds, too. At least mine was. Hope yours was, too.

MRS
.
BOYLE
. It was quite adequate. (
She returns to the large armchair Right and sits.
) I don't quite see why the best bedroom should have been given to that
very
peculiar young man.

MAJOR METCALF
. Got here ahead of us. First come, first served.

MRS
.
BOYLE
. From the advertisement I got
quite
a different impression of what this place would be like. A comfortable writing room, and a much larger place altogether—with bridge and other amenities.