The Mousetrap and Other Plays (67 page)

CARTER
. The word you have left out is the word
not.
The omission of it entirely alters the sense.

GRETA
. Oh, does it? That's rather funny when you come to think of it. (
She giggles.
)

CARTER
. It is not in the least funny. (
He tears the letter in half and hands the piece to her.
) Do it again. You may remember I told you last week about the celebrated case of Bryant and Horsfall. Case of a will and a trust fund, and entirely owing to a piece of careless copying by a clerk . . .

GRETA
. (
Interrupting
) The wrong wife got the money, I remember.

CARTER
. A woman divorced fifteen years previously. Absolutely contrary to the intention of the testrator, as his lordship himself admitted. But the wording had to stand. They couldn't do anything about it. (
He crosses above the desk to
R
.
of it.
)

GRETA
. I think
that's
rather funny, too. (
She giggles.
)

CARTER
. Counsel's Chambers are no place to be funny in. The Law, Greta, is a serious business and should be treated accordingly.

GRETA
. You wouldn't think so—to hear some of the jokes Judges make.

CARTER
. That kind of joke is the prerogative of the Bench.

GRETA
. And I'm always reading in the paper about “laughter in Court.”

CARTER
. If that's not caused by one of the Judge's remarks you'll find he'll soon threaten to have the Court cleared.

GRETA
. (
Crossing to the door
) Mean old thing. (
She turns and crosses to
L
.
of the desk.
) Do you know what I read the other day, Mr. Carter. (
Sententiously.
) “The Law's an Ass.” I'm not being rude. It's a quotation.

CARTER
. (
Coldly.
) A quotation of a facetious nature. Not meant to be taken seriously. (
He looks at his watch.
) You can make the tea—(
He pauses, waiting for the exact second.
)—now, Greta.

GRETA
. (
Gladly.
) Oh, thank you, Mr. Carter. (
She crosses quickly to the door.
)

CARTER
. Mr. Mayhew, of Mayhew and Brinskill, will be here shortly. A Mr. Leonard Vole is also expected. They may come together or separately.

GRETA
. (
Excitedly.
) Leonard Vole? (
She crosses to the desk.
) Why, that's the name—it was in the paper . . .

CARTER
. (
Repressively.
) The tea, Greta.

GRETA
. Asked to communicate with the police as he might be able to give them useful information.

CARTER
. (
Raising his voice
)
Tea!

GRETA
. (
Crossing to the door and turning
) It was only last . . .

(
CARTER
glowers at
GRETA
.)

The tea, Mr. Carter. (
GRETA
, abashed but unsatisfied, exits.
)

CARTER
. (
Continues his arrangement of the papers, muttering to himself.
) These girls. Sensational—inaccurate—I don't know what the Temple's coming to. (
He examines a typewritten document, makes an angry sound, picks up a pen and makes a correction.
)

GRETA
. (
Enters. Announcing
) Mr. Mayhew.

(
MR
.
MAYHEW
and
LEONARD
VOLE
enter.
MAYHEW
is a typical middle-aged solicitor, shrewd and rather dry and precise in manner.
LEONARD
is a likeable, friendly young man, about twenty seven. He is looking faintly worried.
MAYHEW
carries a brief-case.
)

MAYHEW
. (
Giving his hat to
GRETA
) Sit down, Mr. Vole. (
He crosses and stands above the desk.
) Good afternoon, Carter. (
He puts his brief-case on the desk.
)

(
GRETA
takes
LEONARD
's hat and hangs both on the pegs above the door. She then exits, staring at
LEONARD
over her shoulder.
)

CARTER
. Good afternoon, Mr. Mayhew. Sir Wilfrid shouldn't be long, sir, although you never can tell with Mr. Justice Banter. I'll go straight over to the Robing Room and tell him that you're here! (
He hesitates.
) with . . . (
He crosses below the desk to
R
.
of
LEONARD
.)

MAYHEW
. With Mr. Leonard Vole. Thank you, Carter. I'm afraid our appointment was at rather short notice. But in this case time is—er—rather urgent.

(
CARTER
crosses to the door.
)

How's the lumbago?

CARTER
. (
Turning
) I only feel it when the wind is in the East. Thank you for remembering, Mr. Mayhew. (
CARTER
exits hurriedly.
)

(
MAYHEW
sits
L
.
of the desk.
LEONARD
prowls uneasily.
)

MAYHEW
. Sit down, Mr. Vole.

LEONARD
. Thanks—I'd rather walk about. I—this sort of thing makes you feel a bit jumpy. (
He crosses down
L
.)

MAYHEW
. Yes, yes, very probably . . .

GRETA
. (
Enters. She speaks to
MAYHEW
,
but stares with fascinated interest at
LEONARD
.) Would you care for a cup of tea, Mr. Mayhew? I've just made it.

LEONARD
. (
Appreciatively.
) Thanks, I don't mind if I . . .

MAYHEW
. (
Interrupting; decisively.
) No, thank you.

(
GRETA
turns to exit.
)

LEONARD
. (
To
GRETA
.) Sorry. (
He smiles at her.
)

(
GRETA
smiles at
LEONARD
and exits. There is a pause.
)

(
He crosses up
R
.
Abruptly and with a rather likeable air of bewilderment.
) What I mean is, I can't believe it's
me
this is happening to. I keep thinking—perhaps it's all a dream and I'll wake up presently.

MAYHEW
. Yes, I suppose one might feel like that.

LEONARD
. (
Moving to
R
.
of the desk
) What I mean is—well, it seems so silly.

MAYHEW
. (
Sharply.
) Silly, Mr. Vole?

LEONARD
. Well, yes. I mean I've always been a friendly sort of chap—get on with people and all that. I mean, I'm not the sort of fellow that does—well, anything violent. (
He pauses.
) But I suppose it will be—all right, won't it? I mean you don't get convicted for things you haven't done in this country, do you?

MAYHEW
. Our English judicial system is, in my opinion, the finest in the world.

LEONARD
. (
Is not much comforted. Crossing above the desk to
L
.) Of course there was that case of—what was his name—Adolf Beck. I read about it only the other day. After he'd been in prison for years, they found out it was another chap called Smith. They gave him a free pardon then. That's a thing that seems odd to me—giving you a “pardon” for something you haven't done.

MAYHEW
. It is the necessary legal term.

LEONARD
. (
Bringing the chair from
L
.
of the fireplace and setting it
C
.) Well, it doesn't seem right to me.

MAYHEW
. The important thing was that Beck was set at liberty.

LEONARD
. Yes, it was all right for him. But if it had been murder now—(
He sits astride the chair
C
.) if it had been murder it would have been too late. He would have been hanged.

MAYHEW
. (
Dry but kindly.
) Now, Mr. Vole, there is really no need to take a—er—morbid point of view.

LEONARD
. (
Rather pathetically.
) I'm sorry, sir. But you see, in a way, I'm rather getting the wind up.

MAYHEW
. Well, try and keep calm. Sir Wilfrid Robarts will be here presently and I want you to tell your story to him exactly as you told it to me.

LEONARD
. Yes, sir.

MAYHEW
. But meantime perhaps we might fill out a little more of the detail—er—background. You are at present, I understand, out of a job?

LEONARD
. (
Embarrassed.
) Yes, but I've got a few pounds put by. It's not much, but if you can see your way . . .

MAYHEW
. (
Upset.
) Oh, I'm not thinking of—er—legal fees. It's just the—er—pictures I'm trying to get clear. Your surroundings and—er—circumstances. How long have you been unemployed?

LEONARD
. (
Answers everything readily, with an engaging friendliness.
) About a couple of months.

MAYHEW
. What were you doing before that?

LEONARD
. I was in a motor servicing firm—kind of mechanic, that's what I was.

MAYHEW
. How long had you worked there?

LEONARD
. Oh, about three months.

MAYHEW
. (
Sharply.
) Were you discharged?

LEONARD
. No, I quit. Had words with the foreman. Proper old b— (
He breaks off.
) That is, he was a mean sort of chap, always picking on you.

MAYHEW
. Hm! And before that?

LEONARD
. I worked in a petrol station, but things got a bit awkward and I left.

MAYHEW
. Awkward? In what way?

LEONARD
. (
Embarrassed.
) Well—the boss's daughter—she was only a kid, but she took a—well, a sort of fancy to me—and there was nothing there shouldn't have been between us, but the old man got a bit fed up and said I'd better go. He was quite nice about it and gave me a good chit. (
He rises and suddenly grins.
) Before
that
, I was selling egg beaters on commission. (
He replaces the chair
L
.
of the fireplace.
)

MAYHEW
. Indeed.

LEONARD
. (
Crossing and standing above the desk; boyishly.
) And a rotten job they were, too. I could have invented a better egg beater myself. (
Catching
MAYHEW
's mood
) You're thinking I'm a bit of a drifter, sir. It's true in a way—but I'm not really like that. Doing my army service unsettled me a bit—that and being abroad. I was in Germany. It was fine there. That's where I met my wife. She's an actress. Since I've come back to this country I can't seem somehow to settle down properly. I don't know really just what I want to do—I like working on cars best and thinking out new gadgets for them. That's interesting, that is. And you see . . .

(
SIR
WILFRID
ROBARTS
,
Q
.
C
.
, enters. He is followed on by
CARTER
.
SIR
WILFRID
is wearing his
Q
.
C
.
's jacket and bands and carries his wig and gown.
CARTER
carries
SIR
WILFRID
's ordinary jacket and bow tie.
)

SIR
WILFRID
. Hullo, John.

MAYHEW
. (
Rising
) Ah, Wilfrid.

SIR
WILFRID
. (
Handing the wig and gown to
)
CARTER
) Carter told you I was in Court? Banter really surpassed himself. (
He looks at
LEONARD
.) And this is Mr.—er—Vole? (
He crosses to
L
.
of
LEONARD
.)

MAYHEW
. This is Leonard Vole.

LEONARD
. How do you do, sir?

(
MAYHEW
moves to the fireplace.
)

SIR
WILFRID
. How do you do, Vole? Won't you sit down?

(
LEONARD
sits
L
.
of the desk.
)

How's the family, John? (
He crosses to
CARTER
.)

(
CARTER
assists
SIR
WILFRID
to change his jacket and remove his bands.
)

MAYHEW
. Molly's got a touch of this twenty-four-hour flu.

SIR
WILFRID
. Too bad!