The Mousetrap and Other Plays (60 page)

GILES
. But look here, Sergeant, you speak as though we were all under suspicion. That's absurd!

TROTTER
. In a murder case, everyone is under suspicion.

GILES
. But you know pretty well who killed that woman in Culver Street. You think it's the eldest of those three children at the farm. A mentally abnormal young man who is now twenty-three years of age. Well, damn it all, there's only one person here who fits the bill. (
He points to
CHRISTOPHER
and moves slightly towards him.
)

CHRISTOPHER
. It's not true—it's not true! You're all against me. Everyone's always been against me. You're going to frame me for a murder. It's persecution, (
Crossing to Left of
MAJOR
METCALF
) that's what it is—persecution.

(
GILES
follows him but pauses at the Left end of the refectory table.
)

MAJOR
METCALF
. (
Rising; kindly
) Steady, lad, steady. (
He pats
CHRISTOPHER
on the shoulder, then he takes out his pipe.
)

MOLLIE
. (
Rising and moving up to Left of
CHRISTOPHER
) It's all right, Chris. Nobody's against you. (
To
TROTTER
) Tell him it's all right.

TROTTER
. (
Looking at
GILES
;
stolidly
) We don't frame people.

MOLLIE
. (
To
TROTTER
) Tell him you're not going to arrest him.

TROTTER
. (
Moving to Left of
MOLLIE
;
stolidly
) I'm not arresting anyone. To do that, I've got to have evidence. I haven't got any evidence—yet.

(
CHRISTOPHER
moves to the fire.
)

GILES
. I think you're crazy, Mollie. (
Moving up Centre. To
TROTTER
) And you, too! There's just one person who fits the bill and, if only as a safety measure, he ought to be put under arrest. It's only fair to the rest of us.

MOLLIE
. Wait, Giles, wait. Sergeant Trotter, can I—can I speak to you a minute?

TROTTER
. Certainly, Mrs. Ralston. Will the rest of you go into the dining room, please.

(
The others rise and move down Right to the door: first
MISS
CASEWELL
,
then
MR
.
PARAVICINI
,
protesting, followed by
CHRISTOPHER
and
MAJOR
METCALF
,
who pauses to light his pipe.
MAJOR
METCALF
becomes aware of being stared at. They all exit.
)

GILES
. I'm staying.

MOLLIE
. No, Giles, you, too, please.

GILES
. (
Furious
) I'm staying. I don't know what's come over you, Mollie.

MOLLIE
. Please.

(
GILES
exits after the others down Right, leaving the door open.
MOLLIE
shuts it.
TROTTER
moves to the arch up Right.
)

TROTTER
. Yes, Mrs. Ralston, (
Moving above the armchair Centre
) what is it you want to say to me?

MOLLIE
. (
Moving up to Left of
TROTTER
) Sergeant Trotter, you think that this—(
She moves below the sofa
) this crazy killer must be the—eldest of those three boys at the Farm—but you don't know that, do you?

TROTTER
. We don't actually know a thing. All we've got so far is that the woman who joined with her husband in ill-treating and starving those children has been killed, and that the woman magistrate who was responsible for placing them there has been killed. (
He moves down to Right of the sofa.
) The telephone wire that links me with police headquarters has been cut . . .

MOLLIE
. You don't even know that. It may have been just the snow.

TROTTER
. No, Mrs. Ralston, the line was deliberately cut. It was cut just outside by the front door. I found the place.

MOLLIE
. (
Shaken
) I see.

TROTTER
. Sit down, Mrs. Ralston.

MOLLIE
. (
Sitting on the sofa
) But, all the same, you don't know . . .

TROTTER
. (
Moving in a circle Left above the sofa and then Right below it
) I'm going by probability. It all points one way; mental instability, childish mentality, desertion from the Army and the psychiatrist's report.

MOLLIE
. Oh, I know, and therefore it all seems to point to Christopher. But I don't believe it is Christopher. There must be other possibilities.

TROTTER
. (
Right of the sofa; turning to her
) Such as?

MOLLIE
. (
Hesitating
) Well—hadn't those children any relations at all?

TROTTER
. The mother was a drunk. She died soon after the children were taken away from her.

MOLLIE
. What about their father?

TROTTER
. He was an Army sergeant, serving abroad. If he's alive, he's probably discharged from the Army by now.

MOLLIE
. You don't know where he is now?

TROTTER
. We've no information. To trace him may take some time, but I can assure you, Mrs. Ralston, that the police take every eventuality into account.

MOLLIE
. But you don't know where he may be at this minute, and if the son is mentally unstable, the father may have been unstable, too.

TROTTER
. Well, it's a possibility.

MOLLIE
. If he came home, after being a prisoner with the Japs, perhaps, and having suffered terribly—if he came home and found his wife dead and that his children had gone through some terrible experience, and one of them had died through it, he might go off his head a bit and want—revenge!

TROTTER
. That's only surmise.

MOLLIE
. But it's possible?

TROTTER
. Oh yes, Mrs. Ralston, it's quite possible.

MOLLIE
. So the murderer may be middle-aged, or even old. (
She pauses.
) When I said the police had rung up, Major Metcalf was frightfully upset. He really was. I saw his face.

TROTTER
. (
Considering
) Major Metcalf? (
He moves to the armchair Centre and sits.
)

MOLLIE
. Middle-aged. A soldier. He seems quite nice and perfectly normal—but it mightn't show, might it?

TROTTER
. No, often it doesn't show at all.

MOLLIE
. (
Rising and moving to Left of
TROTTER
) So, it's not only Christopher who's a suspect. There's Major Metcalf as well.

TROTTER
. Any other suggestions?

MOLLIE
. Well, Mr. Paravicini did drop the poker when I said the police had rung up.

TROTTER
. Mr. Paravicini. (
He appears to consider.
)

MOLLIE
. I know he seems quite old—and foreign and everything, but he mightn't really be as old as he looks. He moves like a much younger man, and he's definitely got makeup on his face. Miss Casewell noticed it, too. He might be—oh, I know it sounds very melodramatic—but he might be
disguised.

TROTTER
. You're very anxious, aren't you, that it shouldn't be young Mr. Wren?

MOLLIE
. (
Moving to the fire
) He seems so—helpless, somehow. (
Turning to
TROTTER
) And so unhappy.

TROTTER
. Mrs. Ralston, let me tell you something. I've had
all
possibilities in mind ever since the beginning. The boy Georgie, the father—and someone else. There was a sister, you remember.

MOLLIE
. Oh—the sister?

TROTTER
. (
Rising and moving to
MOLLIE
) It could have been a woman who killed Maureen Lyon. A woman. (
Moving Centre
) The muffler pulled up and the man's felt that pulled well down, and the killer whispered, you know. It's the voice that gives the sex away. (
He moves above the sofa table.
) Yes, it might have been a woman.

MOLLIE
. Miss Casewell?

TROTTER
. (
Moving to the stairs
) She looks a bit old for the part. (
He moves up the stairs, opens the library door, looks in, then shuts the door.
) Oh yes, Mrs. Ralston, there's a very wide field. (
He comes down the stairs.
) There's yourself, for instance.

MOLLIE
. Me?

TROTTER
. You're about the right age.

(
MOLLIE
is about to protest.
)

(
Checking her
) No, no. Whatever you tell me about yourself, I've got no means of checking it at this moment, remember. And then there's your husband.

MOLLIE
. Giles—how ridiculous!

TROTTER
. (
Crossing slowly to Left of
MOLLIE
) He and Christopher Wren are much of an age. Say your husband looks older than his years, and Christopher Wren looks younger. Actual age is very hard to tell. How much do you know about your husband, Mrs. Ralston?

MOLLIE
. How much do I know about Giles? Oh, don't be silly.

TROTTER
. You've been married—how long?

MOLLIE
. Just a year.

TROTTER
. And you met him—where?

MOLLIE
. At a dance in London. We went in a party.

TROTTER
. Did you meet his people?

MOLLIE
. He hasn't any people. They're all dead.

TROTTER
. (
Significantly
) They're all dead?

MOLLIE
. Yes—but oh, you make it sound all wrong. His father was a barrister and his mother died when he was a baby.

TROTTER
. You're only telling me what
he
told you.

MOLLIE
. Yes—but . . . (
She turns away.
)

TROTTER
. You don't know it of your own knowledge.

MOLLIE
. (
Turning back quickly
) It's outrageous that . . .

TROTTER
. You'd be surprised, Mrs. Ralston, if you knew how many cases rather like yours we get. Especially since the war. Homes broken up and families dead. Fellow says he's been in the Air Force, or just finished his Army training. Parents killed—no relations. There aren't any backgrounds nowadays and young people settle their own affairs—they meet and marry. It's parents and relatives who used to make the enquiries before they consented to an engagement. That's all done away with. Girl just marries her man. Sometimes she doesn't find out for a year or two that he's an absconding bank clerk, or an Army deserter or something equally undesirable. How long had you known Giles Ralston when you married him?

MOLLIE
. Just three weeks. But . . .

TROTTER
. And you don't know anything about him?

MOLLIE
. That's not true. I know everything about him! I know exactly the sort of person he is. He's
Giles.
(
Turning to the fire
) And it's absolutely absurd to suggest that he's some horrible crazy homicidal maniac. Why, he wasn't even in London yesterday when the murder took place.

TROTTER
. Where was he? Here?

MOLLIE
. He went across country to a sale to get some wire netting for our chickens.

TROTTER
. Bring it back with him? (
He crosses to the desk.
)

MOLLIE
. No, it turned out to be the wrong kind.

TROTTER
. Only thirty miles from London, aren't you? Oh, you got an ABC? (
He picks up the ABC and reads it.
) Only an hour by train—a little longer by car.

MOLLIE
. (
Stamping her foot with temper
) I tell you Giles wasn't in London.

TROTTER
. Just a minute, Mrs. Ralston. (
He crosses to the front hall, and comes back carrying a darkish overcoat. Moving to Left of
MOLLIE
) This your husband's coat?

(
MOLLIE
looks at the coat.
)

MOLLIE
. (
Suspiciously
) Yes.

(
TROTTER
takes out a folded evening paper from the pocket.
)

TROTTER
.
Evening News.
Yesterday's. Sold on the streets about three-thirty yesterday afternoon.

MOLLIE
. I don't believe it!

TROTTER
. Don't you? (
He moves up Right to the arch with the coat.
) Don't you?

(
TROTTER
exits through the archway up Right with the overcoat.
MOLLIE
sits in the small armchair down Right, staring at the evening paper. The door down Right slowly opens.
CHRISTOPHER
peeps in through the door, sees that
MOLLIE
is alone, and enters.
)