The Mousetrap and Other Plays (7 page)

WARGRAVE
. No boat at all?

ROGERS
. No, sir.

WARGRAVE
. Why don't you telephone to the mainland?

ROGERS
. There's no telephone. Fred Narracott, he comes over every morning, sir. He brings the milk and the bread and the post and the papers, and takes the orders.

(
A chorus of “I agree,” “Quite so,” “Only thing to be done.”
)

MARSTON
. (
Picks up drink from windowseat; crosses down Right to front of Right sofa. Raising his voice
) A bit unsporting, what? Ought to ferret out the mystery before we go. Whole thing's like a detective story. Positively thrilling.

WARGRAVE
. (
Acidly
) At my time of life, I have no desire for thrills. (
Sits down Left.
)

(
BLORE
to Left end sofa.
MARSTON
grins; stretches out his legs.
)

(
WARN Curtain.
)

MARSTON
. The legal life's narrowing. I'm all for crime. (
Raises his glass
) Here's to it. (
Drinks it off at a gulp, appears to choke, gasps, has a violent convulsion and slips on to sofa. Glass falls from his hand.
)

ARMSTRONG
. (
Runs over to him, bends down, feels pulse, raises eyelid
) My God, he's dead!

(
MACKENZIE
to Left end sofa. The
OTHERS
can hardly take it in.
ARMSTRONG
sniffs lips, then sniffs glass. Nods.
)

MACKENZIE
. Dead? D'you mean the fellow just choked and—died?

ARMSTRONG
. You can call it choking if you like. He died of asphyxiation, right enough.

MACKENZIE
. Never knew a man could die like that—just a choking fit.

EMILY
. (
With meaning
) In the middle of life we are in death. (
She sounds inspired.
)

ARMSTRONG
. A man doesn't die of a mere choking fit, General MacKenzie. Marston's death isn't what we call a natural death.

VERA
. Was there something in the whisky?

ARMSTRONG
. Yes. By the smell of it, cyanide. Probably Potassium Cyanide. Acts pretty well instantaneously.

LOMBARD
. Then he must have put the stuff in the glass himself.

BLORE
. Suicide, eh? That's a rum go.

VERA
. You'd never think he'd commit suicide. He was so alive. He was enjoying himself.

(
EMILY
comes down and picks up remains of Indian from behind chair Right Centre.
)

EMILY
. Oh! Look—here's one of the little Indians off the mantelpiece—broken. (
Holds it up.
)

CURTAIN

ACT TWO

Scene I

The same. The following morning.

The windows are open and the room has been tidied. It is a fine morning. There are only eight Indians on the mantelpiece.

Suitcases are piled up on the balcony.
ALL
are waiting for the boat to arrive.
MACKENZIE
is sitting up Left in his chair, looking definitely a little queer.
EMILY
is sitting Right Centre, knitting, with her hat and coat on.
WARGRAVE
is sitting windowseat up Right, a little apart, and is thoughtful. His manner is judicial throughout scene.
VERA
, by window Centre, is restless. She comes into the room as if to speak, no one takes any notice, goes down Left and sits.

ARMSTRONG
and
BLORE
come up Right on balcony.

ARMSTRONG
. We've been up to the top. No sign of that boat yet.

VERA
. It's very early still.

BLORE
. Oh, I know. Still, the fellow brings the milk and the bread and all that. I should have thought he'd have got here before this. (
Opens door Right 2 and looks in
) No sign of breakfast yet—Where's that fellow Rogers?

VERA
. Oh, don't let's bother about breakfast—

WARGRAVE
. How's the weather looking?

BLORE
. (
To window Centre
) The wind has freshened a bit. Rather a mackerel sky. Old boy in the train yesterday said we were due for dirty weather. Shouldn't wonder if he wasn't right—

ARMSTRONG
. (
Up Centre. Nervously
) I wish that boat would come. The sooner we get off this island the better. It's absurd not keeping a boat on the island.

BLORE
. No proper harbour. If the wind comes to blow from the south-east, a boat would get dashed to pieces against the rocks.

EMILY
. But a boat would always be able to make us from the mainland?

BLORE
. (
To Left of
EMILY
) No, Miss Brent—that's just what it wouldn't.

EMILY
. Do you mean we should be cut off from the land?

BLORE
. Yes. Condensed milk, Ryvita and tinned stuff till the gale had blown itself out. But you needn't worry. The sea's only a bit choppy.

EMILY
. I think the pleasures of living on an island are rather overrated.

ARMSTRONG
. (
Restless
) I wonder if that boat's coming. Annoying the way the house is built slap up against the cliff. You can't see the mainland until you've climbed to the top. (
To
BLORE
) Shall we go up there again?

BLORE
. (
Grinning
) It's no good, Doctor. A watched pot never boils. There wasn't a sign of a boat putting out when we were up there just now.

ARMSTRONG
. (
To down Right
) What can this man Narracott be doing?

BLORE
. (
Philosophically
) They're all like that in Devon. Never hurry themselves.

ARMSTRONG
. And where's Rogers? He ought to be about.

BLORE
. If you ask me, Master Rogers was pretty badly rattled last night.

ARMSTRONG
. I know. (
Shivers
) Ghastly—the whole thing.

BLORE
. Got the wind up properly. I'd take an even bet that he and his wife did do that old lady in.

WARGRAVE
. (
Incredulous
) You really think so?

BLORE
. Well, I never saw a man more scared. Guilty as hell, I should say.

ARMSTRONG
. Fantastic—the whole thing—fantastic.

BLORE
. I say, suppose he's hopped it?

ARMSTRONG
. Who, Rogers? But there isn't any way he could. There's no boat on the island. You've just said so.

BLORE
. Yes, but I've been thinking. We've only Rogers's word for that. Suppose there is one and he's nipped off in the first thing.

MACKENZIE
. Oh! No. He wouldn't be allowed to leave the island. (
His tone is so strange they stare at him.
)

BLORE
. Sleep well, General? (
Crosses Right of
MACKENZIE
.)

MACKENZIE
. I dreamed—yes, I dreamed—

BLORE
. I don't wonder at that.

MACKENZIE
. I dreamed of Lesley—my wife, you know.

BLORE
. (
Embarrassed
) Oh—er—yes—I wish Narracott would come. (
Turns up to window.
)

MACKENZIE
. Who is Narracott?

BLORE
. The bloke who brought us over yesterday afternoon.

MACKENZIE
. Was it only yesterday?

BLORE
. (
Comes down Centre. Determinedly cheerful
) Yes, I feel like that, too. Batty gramophone records—suicides—it's about all a man can stand. I shan't be sorry to see the back of Indian Island, I give you my word.

MACKENZIE
. So you don't understand. How strange!

BLORE
. What's that, General?

(
MACKENZIE
nods his head gently.
BLORE
looks questioningly at
ARMSTRONG
,
then taps his forehead significantly.
)

ARMSTRONG
. I don't like the look of him.

BLORE
. I reckon young Marston's suicide must have been a pretty bad shock to him. He looks years older.

ARMSTRONG
. Where is that poor young fellow now?

BLORE
. In the study—put him there myself.

VERA
. Doctor Armstrong, I suppose it was suicide?

ARMSTRONG
. (
Sharply
) What else could it be?

VERA
. (
Rises, crosses to Right sofa; sits.
) I don't know. But suicide—(
She shakes her head.
)

BLORE
. (
Crosses to behind Left sofa.
) You know I had a pretty funny feeling in the night. This Mr. Unknown Owen, suppose he's on the island. Rogers mayn't know. (
Pause
) Or he may have told him to say so. (
Watches
ARMSTRONG
) Pretty nasty thought, isn't it?

ARMSTRONG
. But would it have been possible for anyone to tamper with Marston's drink without our seeing him?

BLORE
. Well, it was standing up there. Anyone could have slipped a dollop of cyanide in if they'd wanted to.

ARMSTRONG
. But that—

ROGERS
. (
Comes running up from Right on balcony. He is out of breath. Comes straight to
ARMSTRONG
.) Oh, there you are, sir. I've been all over the place looking for you. Could you come up and have a look at my wife, sir?

ARMSTRONG
. Yes, of course. (
Goes towards door Left 1
) Is she feeling under the weather still?

ROGERS
. She's—she's—(
Swallows convulsively; exits Left 2.
)

ARMSTRONG
. You won't leave the island without me?

(
They go out Left 1.
)

VERA
. (
Rises; to Left of windows
) I wish the boat would come. I hate this place.

WARGRAVE
. Yes. I think the sooner we can get in touch with the police the better.

VERA
. The police?

WARGRAVE
. The police have to be notified in a case of suicide, you know, Miss Claythorne.

VERA
. Oh, yes—of course. (
Looks up Right towards the door of study and shivers.
)

BLORE
. (
Opening door Left 2
) What's going on here? No sign of any breakfast.

VERA
. Are you hungry, General? (
MACKENZIE
does not answer. She speaks louder
) Feeling like breakfast?

MACKENZIE
. (
Turns sharply
) Lesley—Lesley—my dear.

VERA
. No—I'm not—I'm Vera Claythorne.

MACKENZIE
. (
Passes a hand over his eyes
) Of course. Forgive me. I took you for my wife.

VERA
. Oh!

MACKENZIE
. I was waiting for her, you see.

VERA
. But I thought your wife was dead—long ago.

MACKENZIE
. Yes. I thought so, too. But I was wrong. She's here. On this island.

LOMBARD
. (
Comes in from hall Left 1
) Good morning.

(
VERA
to above Left sofa.
)

BLORE
. (
Coming to down Left
) Good morning, Captain Lombard.

LOMBARD
. Good morning. Seem to have overslept myself. Boat here yet?

BLORE
. No.

LOMBARD
. Bit late, isn't it?

BLORE
. Yes.

LOMBARD
. (
To Vera
) Good morning. You and I could have had a swim before breakfast. Too bad all this.

VERA
. Too bad you overslept yourself.

BLORE
. You must have good nerves to sleep like that.

LOMBARD
. Nothing makes me lose my sleep.

(
VERA
to mantelpiece.
)

BLORE
. Didn't dream of African natives, by any chance, did you?

LOMBARD
. No. Did you dream of convicts on Dartmoor?

BLORE
. (
Angrily
) Look here, I don't think that's funny, Captain Lombard.

LOMBARD
. Well, you started it, you know. I'm hungry. What about breakfast? (
To Left sofa—sits.
)

BLORE
. The whole domestic staff seems to have gone on strike.

LOMBARD
. Oh, well, we can always forage for ourselves.

VERA
. (
Examining Indian figures
) Hullo, that's strange.

LOMBARD
. What is?

VERA
. You remember we found one of these little fellows smashed last night?

LOMBARD
. Yes—That ought to leave nine.

VERA
. That ought to leave nine. I'm certain there were ten of them here when we arrived.