The Mousetrap and Other Plays (58 page)

PARAVICINI
. You must forgive me, but indeed I find all this most amusing. I enjoy myself greatly.

(
Still laughing,
PARAVICINI
exits down Left to the drawing room.
MOLLIE
moves to Right of the sofa.
)

MRS
.
BOYLE
. I never did like that man!

MISS CASEWELL
. (
Moving to Left of the sofa table
) Where did he come from last night? (
She takes a cigarette from the box.
)

MOLLIE
. I don't know.

MISS CASEWELL
. Looks a bit of a spiv to me. Makes his face up, too. Rouge and powder. Disgusting. He must be quite old, too. (
She lights the cigarette.
)

MOLLIE
. And yet he skips about as though he were quite young.

MAJOR METCALF
. You'll be wanting more wood. I'll get it.

(
MAJOR METCALF
exits up Right.
)

MOLLIE
. It's almost dark and yet it's only four in the afternoon. I'll turn the lights on. (
She moves down Right and switches on the wall brackets over the fireplace.
) That's better.

(
There is a pause.
MRS. BOYLE
glances uncomfortably first at
MOLLIE
and then at
MISS CASEWELL
,
who are both watching her.
)

MRS
.
BOYLE
. (
Assembling her writing things
) Now where did I leave my pen? (
She rises and crosses Left.
)

(
MRS
.
BOYLE
exits up Left to the library. There is the sound of a piano being played from the drawing room—the tune of “Three Blind Mice” picked out with one finger.
)

MOLLIE
. (
Moving up to the window to close the curtains
) What a horrid little tune that is.

MISS CASEWELL
. Don't you like it? Reminds you of your childhood, perhaps—an unhappy childhood?

MOLLIE
. I was very happy as a child. (
She moves round to Centre of the refectory table.
)

MISS CASEWELL
. You were lucky.

MOLLIE
. Weren't you happy?

MISS CASEWELL
. (
Crossing to the fire
) No.

MOLLIE
. I'm sorry.

MISS CASEWELL
. But all that's a long time ago. One gets over things.

MOLLIE
. I suppose so.

MISS CASEWELL
. Or doesn't one? Damned hard to say.

MOLLIE
. They say that what happened when you're a child matters more than anything else.

MISS CASEWELL
. They say—they say. Who says?

MOLLIE
. Psychologists.

MISS CASEWELL
. All humbug. Just a damned lot of nonsense. I've no use for psychologists and psychiatrists.

MOLLIE
. (
Moving down below the sofa
) I've never really had much to do with them.

MISS CASEWELL
. A good thing for you you haven't. It's all a lot of hooey—the whole thing. Life's what you make of it. Go straight ahead—don't look back.

MOLLIE
. One can't always help looking back.

MISS CASEWELL
. Nonsense. It's a question of will power.

MOLLIE
. Perhaps.

MISS CASEWELL
. (
Forcefully
) I know. (
She moves down Centre.
)

MOLLIE
. I expect you're right . . . (
She sighs.
) But sometimes things happen—to make you remember . . .

MISS CASEWELL
. Don't give in. Turn your back on them.

MOLLIE
. Is that really the right way? I wonder. Perhaps that's all wrong. Perhaps one ought really to face them.

MISS CASEWELL
. Depends what you're talking about.

MOLLIE
. (
With a slight laugh
) Sometimes, I hardly know what I am talking about. (
She sits on the sofa.
)

MISS CASEWELL
. (
Moving to
MOLLIE
) Nothing from the past is going to affect me—except in the way I want it to.

(
GILES
and
TROTTER
enter from the stairs Left.
)

TROTTER
. Well, everything's all right upstairs. (
He looks at the open dining room door, crosses and exits into the dining room. He reappears in the archway up Right.
)

(
MISS CASEWELL
exits into the dining room, leaving the door open.
MOLLIE
rises and begins to tidy up, rearranging the cushions, then moves up to the curtains.
GILES
moves up to Left of
MOLLIE
.
TROTTER
crosses down Left.
)

(
Opening the door down Left
) What's in here, drawing room?

(
The sound of the piano is heard much louder while the door is open.
TROTTER
exits into the drawing room and shuts the door. Presently he reappears at the door up Left.
)

MRS
.
BOYLE
. (
Off
) Would you mind shutting that door. This place is full of draughts.

TROTTER
. Sorry, madam, but I've got to get the lay of the land.

(
TROTTER
closes the door and exits up the stairs.
MOLLIE
moves above the armchair Centre.
)

GILES
. (
Coming down to Left of mollie
) Mollie, what's all this . . . ?

(
TROTTER
reappears down the stairs.
)

TROTTER
. Well, that completes the tour. Nothing suspicious. I think I'll make my report now to Superintendent Hogben. (
He goes to the telephone.
)

MOLLIE
. (
Moving to Left of the refectory table
) But you can't telephone. The line's dead . . .

TROTTER
. (
Swinging round sharply
) What? (
He picks up the receiver.
) Since when?

MOLLIE
. Major Metcalf tried it just after you arrived.

TROTTER
. But it was all right earlier. Superintendent Hogben got through all right.

MOLLIE
. Oh yes. I suppose, since then, the lines are down with the snow.

TROTTER
. I wonder. It may have been
cut.
(
He puts the receiver down and turns to them.
)

GILES
. Cut? But who could cut it?

TROTTER
. Mr. Ralston . . . Just how much do you know about these people who are staying in your guest house?

GILES
. I—we—we don't really know anything about them.

TROTTER
. Ah. (
He moves above the sofa table.
)

GILES
. (
Moving to Right of
TROTTER
) Mrs. Boyle wrote from a Bournemouth hotel, Major Metcalf from an address in—where was it?

MOLLIE
. Leamington. (
She moves to Left of
TROTTER
.)

GILES
. Wren wrote from Hampstead and the Casewell woman from a private hotel in Kensington. Paravicini, as we've told you, turned up out of the blue last night. Still, I suppose they've all got ration books—that sort of thing.

TROTTER
. I shall go into all that, of course. But there's not much reliance to be placed on that sort of evidence.

MOLLIE
. But even if this—this maniac is trying to get here and kill us all—or one of us, we're quite safe now. Because of the snow. No one can get here till it melts.

TROTTER
. Unless he's here already.

GILES
. Here already?

TROTTER
. Why not, Mr. Ralston? All these people arrived here yesterday evening. Some hours after the murder of Mrs. Stanning. Plenty of time to get here.

GILES
. But except for Mr. Paravicini, they'd all booked beforehand.

TROTTER
. Well, why not? These crimes were planned.

GILES
. Crimes? There's only been one crime. In Culver Street. Why are you sure there will be another here?

TROTTER
. That it will happen here, no—I hope to prevent that. That it will be attempted, yes.

GILES
. (
Crossing to the fire
) I can't believe it. It's so fantastic.

TROTTER
. It isn't fantastic. It's just facts.

MOLLIE
. You've got a description of what this—man looked like in London?

TROTTER
. Medium height, indeterminate build, darkish overcoat, soft felt hat, face hidden by a muffler. Spoke in a whisper. (
He crosses to Left of the armchair Centre. He pauses.
) There are three darkish overcoats hanging up in the hall now. One of them is yours, Mr. Ralston . . . There are three lightish felt hats . . .

(
GILES
starts to move towards the arch up Right but he stops when
MOLLIE
speaks.
)

MOLLIE
. I still can't believe it.

TROTTER
. You see? It's this telephone wire that worries me. If it's been cut . . . (
He crosses to the phone, bends down and studies the wire.
)

MOLLIE
. I must go and get on with the vegetables.

(
MOLLIE
exits through the archway up Right.
GILES
picks up
MOLLIE
's glove from the armchair Centre and holds it absently, smoothing it out. He extracts a London bus ticket from the glove—stares at it—then after
MOLLIE
—then back to the ticket.
)

TROTTER
. Is there an extension?

(
GILES
frowns at the bus ticket, and does not answer.
)

GILES
. I beg your pardon. Did you say something?

TROTTER
. Yes, Mr. Ralston, I said “Is there an extension?” (
He crosses to Centre.
)

GILES
. Yes, up in our bedroom.

TROTTER
. Go and try it up there for me, will you?

(
GILES
exits to the stairs, carrying the glove and bus ticket and looking dazed.
TROTTER
continues to trace the wire to the window. He pulls back the curtain and opens the window, trying to follow the wire. He crosses to the arch up Right, goes out and returns with a torch. He moves to the window, jumps out and bends down, looking, then disappears out of sight. It is practically dark.
MRS. BOYLE
enters from the library up Left, shivers and notices the open window.
)

MRS
.
BOYLE
. (
Moving to the window
) Who's left this window open? (
She shuts the window and closes the curtain, then moves to the fire and puts another log on it. She crosses to the radio and turns it on. She moves up to the refectory table, picks up a magazine and looks at it.
)

(
There is a music programme on the radio.
MRS. BOYLE
frowns, moves to the radio and tunes in to a different programme.
)

VOICE ON THE RADIO
. . . to understand what I may term as the mechanics of fear, you have to study the precise effect produced on the human mind. Imagine, for instance, that you are alone in a room. It is late in the afternoon. A door opens softly behind you . . .

(
The door down Right opens. The tune of “Three Blind Mice” is heard whistled.
MRS. BOYLE
turns with a start.
)

MRS
.
BOYLE
. (
With relief
) Oh, it's you. I can't find any programme worth listening to. (
She moves to the radio and tunes in to the music programme.
)

(
A hand shows through the open doorway and clicks the light switch. The lights suddenly go out.
)

Here—what are you doing? Why did you turn out the light?

(
The radio is at full volume, and through it are heard gurgles and a scuffle.
MRS. BOYLE
's
body falls.
MOLLIE
enters by the archway up Right and stands perplexed.
)

MOLLIE
. Why is it all dark? What a noise!

(
She switches on the light at the switch up Right and crosses to the radio to turn it down. Then she sees
MRS. BOYLE
lying strangled in front of the sofa and screams as—the Curtain quickly falls.
)

CURTAIN

ACT TWO

SCENE
:
The same. Ten minutes later.

When the Curtain rises
,
MRS
.
BOYLE
's body has been removed and
EVERYONE
is assembled in the room.
TROTTER
is in charge and is sitting on the upstage side of the refectory table.
MOLLIE
is standing at the Right end of the refectory table. The others are all sitting,
MAJOR
METCALF
in the large armchair Right
,
CHRISTOPHER
in the dark chair
,
GILES
on the stairs Left
,
MISS
CASEWELL
at the Right end of the sofa, and
PARAVICINI
at the Left end.