The Mousetrap and Other Plays (57 page)

GILES
. Never heard of her.

(
MOLLIE
shakes her head.
)

TROTTER
. You mayn't have known of her under the name of Lyon. Lyon wasn't her real name. She had a police record and her fingerprints were on file, so we were able to identify her without difficulty. Her real name was Maureen Stanning. Her husband was a farmer, John Stanning, who resided at Longridge Farm not very far from here.

GILES
. Longridge Farm! Wasn't that where those children . . . ?

TROTTER
. Yes, the Longridge Farm case.

(
MISS CASEWELL
enters from the stairs Left.
)

MISS CASEWELL
. Three children . . . (
She crosses to the armchair down Right and sits.
)

(
EVERYONE
watches her.
)

TROTTER
. That's right, Miss. The Corrigans. Two boys and a girl. Brought before the court as in need of care and protection. A home was found for them with Mr. and Mrs. Stanning at Longridge Farm. One of the children subsequently died as the result of criminal neglect and persistent ill-treatment. Case made a bit of a sensation at the time.

MOLLIE
. (
Very much shaken
) It was horrible.

TROTTER
. The Stannings were sentenced to terms of imprisonment. Stanning died in prison. Mrs. Stanning served her sentence and was duly released. Yesterday, as I say, she was found strangled at twenty-four Culver Street.

MOLLIE
. Who did it?

TROTTER
. I'm coming to that, madam. A notebook was picked up near the scene of the crime. In that notebook was written two addresses. One was twenty-four Culver Street. The other (
He pauses
) was Monkswell Manor.

GILES
. What?

TROTTER
. Yes, sir.

(
During the next speech
PARAVICINI
moves slowly Left to the stairs and leans on the upstage side of the arch.
)

That's why Superintendent Hogben, on receiving this information from Scotland Yard, thought it imperative for me to come out here and find out if you knew of any connection between this house, or anyone in this house, and the Longridge Farm case.

GILES
. (
Moving to the Left end of the refectory table
) There's nothing—absolutely nothing. It must be a coincidence.

TROTTER
. Superintendent Hogben doesn't think it is a coincidence, sir.

(
MAJOR METCALF
turns and looks at
TROTTER
.
During the next speeches he takes out his pipe and fills it.
)

He'd have come himself if it had been in any way possible. Under the weather conditions, and as I can ski, he sent me with instructions to get full particulars of everyone in the house, to report back to him by phone, and to take what measures I thought fit to ensure the safety of the household.

GILES
. Safety? What danger does he think we're in? Good Lord, he's not suggesting that somebody is going to be killed here.

TROTTER
. I don't want to frighten any of the ladies—but frankly, yes, that is the idea.

GILES
. But—why?

TROTTER
. That's what I'm here to find out.

GILES
. But the whole thing's crazy!

TROTTER
. Yes, sir. It's because it's crazy that it's dangerous.

MRS
.
BOYLE
. Nonsense!

MISS CASEWELL
. I must say it seems a bit far-fetched.

CHRISTOPHER
. I think it's wonderful. (
He turns and looks at
MAJOR METCALF
.)

(
MAJOR METCALF
lights his pipe.
)

MOLLIE
. Is there something that you haven't told us, Sergeant?

TROTTER
. Yes, Mrs. Ralston. Below the two addresses was written “Three Blind Mice.” And on the dead woman's body was a paper with “This is the First” written on it, and below the words, a drawing of three little mice and a bar of music. The music was the tune of the nursery rhyme
Three Blind Mice.
You know how it goes. (
He sings
) “Three Blind Mice . . .”

MOLLIE
. (
Singing
)

“Three Blind Mice,

See how they run,

They all ran after the farmer's wife . . .”

Oh, it's horrible.

GILES
. There were three children and one died?

TROTTER
. Yes, the youngest, a boy of eleven.

GILES
. What happened to the other two?

TROTTER
. The girl was adopted by someone. We haven't been able to trace her present whereabouts. The elder boy would now be about twenty-two. Deserted from the Army and has not been heard of since. According to the Army psychologist, was definitely schizophrenic. (
Explaining
) A bit queer in the head, that's to say.

MOLLIE
. They think that it was he who killed Mrs. Lyon—Mrs. Stanning? (
She moves down to the armchair Centre.
)

TROTTER
. Yes.

MOLLIE
. And that he's a homicidal maniac (
She sits
) and that he will turn up here and try to kill someone—but why?

TROTTER
. That's what I've got to find out from you. As the Superintendent sees it, there must be some connection. (
To
GILES
) Now you state, sir, that you yourself have never had any connection with the Longridge Farm case?

GILES
. No.

TROTTER
. And the same goes for you, madam?

MOLLIE
. (
Not at ease
) I—no—I mean—no connection.

TROTTER
. What about servants?

(
MRS
.
BOYLE
registers disapproval.
)

MOLLIE
. We haven't got any servants. (
She rises and moves up Right to the arch.
) That reminds me. Would you mind, Sergeant Trotter, if I went to the kitchen? I'll be there if you want me.

TROTTER
. That's quite all right, Mrs. Ralston.

(
MOLLIE
exits by the archway up Right.
GILES
crosses up Right to the arch, but he is stopped as
TROTTER
speaks.
)

Now can I have all your names, please?

MRS
.
BOYLE
. This is quite ridiculous. We are merely staying in a kind of hotel. We only arrived yesterday. We've nothing to do with this place.

TROTTER
. You'd planned to come here in advance, though. You'd booked your rooms here ahead.

MRS
.
BOYLE
. Well, yes. All except Mr.—? (
She looks at
PARAVICINI
.)

PARAVICINI
. Paravicini. (
He moves to the Left end of the refectory table.
) My car overturned in a snowdrift.

TROTTER
. I see. What I'm getting at is that anyone who's been following you around might know very well that you were coming here. Now, there's just one thing I want to know, and I want to know it quick. Which one of you is it that has some connection with that business at Longridge Farm?

(
There is a dead silence.
)

You're not being very sensible, you know. One of you is in danger—deadly danger. I've got to know which one that is.

(
There is another silence.
)

All right, I'll ask you one by one. (
To
PARAVICINI
) You, first, since you seem to have arrived here more or less by accident, Mr. Pari—?

PARAVICINI
. Par
a
—Paravicini. But, my dear Inspector, I know nothing, but nothing, of what you have been talking about. I am a stranger in this country. I know nothing of these local affairs of bygone years.

TROTTER
. (
Rising and moving down to Left of
MRS. BOYLE
) Mrs.—?

MRS
.
BOYLE
. Boyle. I don't see—really I consider it an impertinence . . . Why on earth should
I
have anything to do with such—this distressing business?

(
MAJOR METCALF
looks sharply at her.
)

TROTTER
. (
Looking at
MISS CASEWELL
) miss—?

MISS CASEWELL
. (
Slowly
) Casewell. Leslie Casewell. I never heard of Longridge Farm, and I know nothing about it.

TROTTER
. (
Moving to Right of the sofa; to
MAJOR METCALF
) You, sir?

MAJOR METCALF
. Metcalf—Major. Read about the case in the papers at the time. I was stationed at Edinburgh then. No personal knowledge.

TROTTER
. (
To
CHRISTOPHER
) And you?

CHRISTOPHER
. Christopher Wren. I was a mere child at the time. I don't remember even hearing about it.

TROTTER
. (
Moving behind the sofa table
) And that's all you have to say—any of you?

(
There is a silence.
)

(
Moving Centre
) Well, if one of you gets murdered, you'll have yourself to blame. Now then, Mr. Ralston, can I have a look round the house?

(
TROTTER
exits up Right with
GILES
.
PARAVICINI
sits at the window seat.
)

CHRISTOPHER
. (
Rising
) My dears, how melodramatic. He's very attractive, isn't he? (
He moves up to the refectory table.
) I do admire the police. So stern and hardboiled. Quite a thrill, this whole business.
Three Blind Mice.
How does the tune go? (
He whistles or hums it.
)

MRS
.
BOYLE
. Really, Mr. Wren!

CHRISTOPHER
. Don't you like it? (
He moves to Left of
MRS. BOYLE
.) But it's a signature tune—the signature of the murderer. Just fancy what a kick he must be getting out of it.

MRS
.
BOYLE
. Melodramatic rubbish. I don't believe a word of it.

CHRISTOPHER
. (
Stalking behind her
) But just wait, Mrs. Boyle. Till I creep up behind you, and you feel my hands on your throat.

MRS
.
BOYLE
. Stop . . . (
She rises.
)

MAJOR METCALF
. That'll do, Christopher. It's a poor joke, anyway. In fact, it's not a joke at all.

CHRISTOPHER
. Oh, but it
is
! (
He moves above the armchair Centre.
) That's just what it is. A madman's joke. That's just what makes it so deliciously macabre. (
He moves up Right to the archway, looks round and giggles.
) If you could just see your faces!

(
CHRISTOPHER
exits through the archway
)

MRS
.
BOYLE
. (
Moving up Right to the arch
) A singularly ill-mannered and neurotic young man.

(
MOLLIE
enters from the dining room down Right and stands by the door.
)

MOLLIE
. Where's Giles?

MISS CASEWELL
. Taking our policeman on a conducted tour of the house.

MRS
.
BOYLE
. (
Moving down to the large armchair
) Your friend, the architect, has been behaving in a most abnormal manner.

MAJOR METCALF
. Young fellows seem nervy nowadays. Daresay he'll grow out of it.

MRS
.
BOYLE
. (
Sitting
) Nerves? I've no patience with people who say they have nerves. I haven't any nerves.

(
MISS CASEWELL
rises and crosses to the stairs Left.
)

MAJOR METCALF
. No? Perhaps that's just as well for you, Mrs. Boyle.

MRS
.
BOYLE
. What do you mean?

MAJOR METCALF
. (
Moving to Left of the armchair Centre.
) I think you were actually one of the magistrates on the Bench at the time. In fact, you were responsible for sending those three children to Longridge Farm.

MRS
.
BOYLE
. Really, Major Metcalf. I can hardly be held responsible. We had reports from welfare workers. The farm people seemed very nice and were most anxious to have the children. It seemed most satisfactory. Eggs and fresh milk and a healthy out-of-doors life.

MAJOR METCALF
. Kicks, blows, starvation, and a thoroughly vicious couple.

MRS
.
BOYLE
. But how was I to know? They were very civilly spoken.

MOLLIE
. Yes, I was right. (
She moves up Centre and stares at
MRS. BOYLE
) It was you . . .

(
MAJOR METCALF
looks sharply at
MOLLIE
.)

MRS
.
BOYLE
. One tries to do a public duty and all one gets is abuse.

(
PARAVICINI
laughs heartily.
)