The Mousetrap and Other Plays (8 page)

LOMBARD
. Well?

VERA
. There are only eight.

LOMBARD
. (
Looking
) So there are. (
To mantelpiece.
)

(
They look at each other.
)

VERA
. I think it's queer, don't you?

LOMBARD
. Probably only were nine to begin with. We assumed there were ten because of the rhyme. (
ARMSTRONG
enters Left 1. He is upset, but striving to appear calm. Shuts door and stands against it.
) Hullo, Armstrong, what's the matter?

ARMSTRONG
. Mrs. Rogers is dead.

(
WARGRAVE
rises.
)

BLORE
and
VERA
. No! How?

(
VERA
to
Right end Left sofa.
)

ARMSTRONG
. Died in her sleep. Rogers thought she was still under the influence of the sleeping draught I gave her and came down without disturbing her. He lit the kitchen fire and did this room. Then, as she hadn't appeared, he went up, was alarmed by the look of her and went hunting for me. (
Pause
) She's been dead about five hours, I should say. (
Sits down Left.
VERA
sits Left sofa.
)

BLORE
. What was it? Heart?

ARMSTRONG
. Impossible to say. It may have been.

BLORE
. After all, she had a pretty bad shock last night.

ARMSTRONG
. Yes.

WARGRAVE
. (
Comes down to Left end of Right sofa
) She might have been poisoned, I suppose, Doctor?

ARMSTRONG
. It is perfectly possible.

WARGRAVE
. With the same stuff as young Marston?

ARMSTRONG
. No, not cyanide. It would have to have been some narcotic or hypnotic. One of the barbiturates, or chloral. Something like that.

BLORE
. You gave her some sleeping powders last night, didn't you?

ARMSTRONG
. (
Rises; crossing to cabinet Right for drink of water
) Yes, I gave her a mild dose of Luminal.

BLORE
. Didn't give her too much, did you?

ARMSTRONG
. Certainly not. What do you mean?

BLORE
. All right—no offence, no offence. I just thought that perhaps if she'd had a weak heart—

ARMSTRONG
. The amount I gave her could not have hurt anyone.

LOMBARD
. Then what exactly did happen?

ARMSTRONG
. Impossible to say without an autopsy.

WARGRAVE
. If, for instance, this death had occurred in the case of one of your private patients, what would have been your procedure?

ARMSTRONG
. (
Crossing Left; sits down Left
) Without any previous knowledge of the woman's state of health, I could certainly not give a certificate.

VERA
. She was a very nervous-looking creature. She had a bad fright last night. Perhaps it was heart failure.

ARMSTRONG
. Her heart certainly failed to beat—but what caused it to fail?

EMILY
. (
Firmly and with emphasis
) Conscience.

(
They all jump and look at her.
WARGRAVE
to Right.
)

ARMSTRONG
. What exactly do you mean by that, Miss Brent?

EMILY
. You all heard—She was accused, together with her husband, of having deliberately murdered her former employer—an old lady.

BLORE
. And you believe that's true, Miss Brent?

EMILY
. Certainly. You all saw her last night. She broke down completely and fainted. The shock of having her wickedness brought home to her was too much for her. She literally died of fear.

ARMSTRONG
. (
Doubtfully
) It is a possible theory. One cannot adopt it without more exact knowledge of her state of health. If there was a latent cardiac weakness—

EMILY
. Call it, if you prefer, An Act of God.

(
EVERYONE
is shocked.
)

BLORE
. Oh, no, Miss Brent. (
Moves up Left
).

(
LOMBARD
to window.
)

EMILY
. (
Emphatically
) You regard it as impossible that a sinner should be struck down by the wrath of God? I do not.

WARGRAVE
. (
Strokes his chin. His voice is ironic. Coming down Right
) My dear lady, in my experience of ill doing, Providence leaves the work of conviction and chastisement to us mortals—and the process is often fraught with difficulties. There are no short cuts.

BLORE
. Let's be practical. What did the woman have to eat and drink last night after she went to bed?

ARMSTRONG
. Nothing.

BLORE
. Nothing at all? Not a cup of tea? Or a glass of water? I'll bet you she had a cup of tea. That sort always does.

ARMSTRONG
. Rogers assures me she had nothing whatever.

BLORE
. He might say so.

LOMBARD
. So that's your idea?

BLORE
. Well, why not? You all heard that accusation last night. What if it's true? Miss Brent thinks it is, for one. Rogers and his missus did the old lady in. They're feeling quite safe and happy about it—

VERA
. Happy?

BLORE
. (
Sits Left sofa.
) Well—they know there's no immediate danger to them. Then, last night, some lunatic goes and spills the beans. What happens? It's the woman who cracks. Goes to pieces. Did you see him hanging round her when she was coming to? Not all husbandly solicitude? Not on your sweet life. He was like a cat on hot bricks. And that's the position. They've done a murder and got away with it. But if it's all going to be raked up again now, it's the woman will give the show away. She hadn't got the nerve to brazen it out. She's a living danger to her husband, that's what she is, and him—he's all right. He'll go on lying till the cows come home, but he can't be sure of her. So what does he do? He drops a nice little dollop of something into a nice cup of tea, and when she's had it, he washes up the cup and saucer and tells the doctor she ain't had nothing.

VERA
. Oh, no. That's impossible. A man wouldn't do that—not to his wife. (
Rises; goes up Left.
)

BLORE
. You'd be surprised, Miss Claythorne, what some husbands would do. (
Rises.
)

ROGERS
. (
Enters Left 2. He is dead white and speaks like an automaton. Just the mask of the trained servant. To
VERA
) Excuse me, Miss. I'm getting on with breakfast. I'm not much of a hand as a cook, I'm afraid. It's lunch that's worrying me. Would cold tongue and gelatine be satisfactory? And I could manage some fried potatoes. And then there's tinned fruit and cheese and biscuits.

VERA
. That will be fine, Rogers.

BLORE
. Lunch? Lunch? We shan't be here for lunch! And when the hell's that boat coming?

EMILY
. Mr. Blore! (
Picks up her case and marches up to Right windowseat—sits.
)

BLORE
. What?

ROGERS
. (
Fatalistically
) You'll pardon me, sir, but the boat won't be coming.

BLORE
. What?

ROGERS
. Fred Narracott's always here before eight. (
Pause
) Is there anything else you require, Miss?

VERA
. No, thank you, Rogers.

(
ROGERS
goes out Left 2.
)

BLORE
. And it's not Rogers! His wife lying dead upstairs and there he's cooking breakfast and calmly talking about lunch! Now he says the boat won't be coming. How the 'ell does he know?

EMILY
. Mr. Blore!

BLORE
. What?

VERA
. (
Crossing down Left
) Oh, don't you see? He's dazed. He's just carrying on automatically as a good servant would. It's—it's pathetic, really.

BLORE
. He's pulling a fast one, if you ask me.

WARGRAVE
. The really significant thing is the failure of the boat to arrive. It means that we are being deliberately cut off from help.

MACKENZIE
. (
Rising
) Very little time. We mustn't waste it talking about things that don't matter.

(
He turns to window.
ALL
look at him dubiously before resuming.
)

LOMBARD
. (
Down Right to
WARGRAVE
) Why do you think Narracott hasn't turned up?

WARGRAVE
. I think the ubiquitous Mr. Owen has given orders.

LOMBARD
. You mean, told him it's a practical joke or something of that kind?

BLORE
. He'd never fall for that, would he?

LOMBARD
. Why not? Indian Island's got a reputation for people having crazy parties. This is just one more crazy idea, that's all. Narracott knows there's plenty of food and drink on the island. Probably thinks it's all a huge joke.

VERA
. Couldn't we light a bonfire up on the top of the island? So that they'd see it?

LOMBARD
. That's probably been provided against. All signals are to be ignored. We're cut off all right.

VERA
. (
Impatiently
) But can't we do something?

LOMBARD
. Oh, yes, we can do something. We can find the funny gentleman who's staged this little joke, Mr. Unknown Owen. I'll bet anything you like he's somewhere on the island, and the sooner we get hold of him the better. Because, in my opinion, he's mad as a hatter. And as dangerous as a rattlesnake.

WARGRAVE
. Hardly a very good simile, Captain Lombard. The rattlesnake at least gives warning of its approach.

LOMBARD
. Warning? My God, yes! (
Indicating nursery rhyme
) That's our warning. (
Reading
)

“Ten little Indian boys—”

There were ten of us after Narracott went, weren't there?

“Ten little Indian boys going out to dine;

One went and choked himself—”

Marston choked himself, didn't he? And then—

“Nine little Indians sat up very late.

One overslept himself”—overslept himself—

The last part fits Mrs. Rogers rather well, doesn't it?

VERA
. You don't think—Do you mean that he wants to kill us all?

LOMBARD
. Yes, I think he does.

VERA
. And each one fits with the rhyme!

ARMSTRONG
. No, no, it's impossible. It's coincidence. It must be coincidence.

LOMBARD
. Only eight little Indian boys here. I suppose that's coincidence too. What do you think, Blore?

BLORE
. I don't like it.

ARMSTRONG
. But there's nobody on the island.

BLORE
. I'm not so sure of that.

ARMSTRONG
. This is terrible.

MACKENZIE
. None of us will ever leave this island.

BLORE
. Can't somebody shut up Grandpa?

LOMBARD
. Don't you agree with me, Sir Lawrence?

WARGRAVE
. (
Slowly
) Up to a point—yes.

LOMBARD
. Then the sooner we get to work the better. Come on, Armstrong. Come on, Blore. We'll make short work of it.

BLORE
. I'm ready. Nobody's got a revolver, by any chance? I suppose that's too much to hope for.

LOMBARD
. I've got one. (
Takes it out of pocket.
)

BLORE
. (
BLORE
's
eyes open rather wide. An idea occurs to him—not a pleasant one.
) Always carry that about with you?

LOMBARD
. Usually. I've been in some tight places, you know.

BLORE
. Oh. Well, you've probably never been in a tighter place than you are today. If there's a homicidal maniac hiding on this island, he's probably got a whole arsenal on him—and he'll use it.

ARMSTRONG
. You may be wrong there, Blore. Many homicidal maniacs are very quiet, unassuming people.

WARGRAVE
. Delightful fellows!

ARMSTRONG
. You'd never guess there was anything wrong with them.

BLORE
. If Mr. Owen turns out to be one of that kind, we'll leave him to you, Doctor. Now then, let's make a start. I suggest Captain Lombard searches the house while we do the island.

LOMBARD
. Right. House ought to be easy. No sliding panels or secret doors. (
Goes up Right towards study.
)

BLORE
. Mind he doesn't get you before you get him!

LOMBARD
. Don't worry. But you two had better stick together—Remember—“One got left behind.”

BLORE
. Come on, Armstrong.

(
They go along and out up Right.
)

WARGRAVE
. (
Rises
) A very energetic young man, Captain Lombard.

VERA
. (
To up Left
) Don't you think he's right? If someone is hiding on the island, they'll be bound to find him. It's practically bare rock.