by Tony Medawar
SCENE 27: THE GALLERY
(Dawson, Frampton, 2nd-in-charge, Alleyn, portrait, cartoon. Everything is still set up as previously)
DAWSON: Now, where are we? (He refers to his notes) Lady Kerr-Bates had the first ‘Bloody Mary’ poured by Crewes and handed to her by the waiter. Five minutes later—at the most—she has a second, mixed and delivered by the barman. That means the poison must have been placed in the jug during those five minutes. Cyanide, I would think by the smell.
ALLEYN: (thinking) Cyanide …
FRAMPTON: Just as well they weren’t all drinking ‘Bloody Mary’s.
ALLEYN: I suppose we can take for granted that Lady Kerr-Bates was the intended victim.
DAWSON: According to a number of witnesses her dedication to ‘Bloody Mary’s was well known.
ALLEYN: So the murderer must have had everything lined up before the unveiling.
DAWSON: Do you think there’s a connection? Between the murder and the portrait business?
FRAMPTON: I asked that.
ALLEYN: And the answer’s still the same. I don’t know.
DAWSON: (continuing with his report) Well … next, everyone goes out to the foyer. Bradley goes picture hunting—gets clobbered.
ALLEYN: And nobody sees anybody but Bradley go into the stack-room.
DAWSON: Somebody couldn’t have been in there all the time, could they? I mean prior to the unveiling—hiding perhaps?
ALLEYN: It’s worth following up. See if you can get a minute-to-minute cross reference of people’s whereabouts in the foyer after the murder.
DAWSON: Thirty-odd people!
ALLEYN: (dryly) Yes, too bad.
(A policeman enters)
POLICEMAN: Message for you, sir. No dabs on the picture frame so far, sir.
DAWSON: Wiped clean?
POLICEMAN: Looks like it, Mr Dawson. And Mr Tillet is here, sir.
DAWSON: Oh, good. Show him in, will you? (Policeman exits) Will you, Mr Alleyn?
ALLEYN: No, no, no, please. Carry on. But if anything occurs to me, you won’t mind my chipping in?
DAWSON: Not at all.
(Policeman ushers in Tillet)
HAROLD: What’s all this about? I’ve told you everything I know.
DAWSON: That was only preliminary, Mr Tillet. Now we want to shape a more solid pattern if we can.
HAROLD: Look here, I’m a very busy man.
DAWSON: We appreciate that, Mr Tillet, but I’m sure you must be as anxious as we are to trace Lady Kerr-Bates’ murderer.
HAROLD: Yes, of course, of course, fire ahead. But I still say we’re both wasting our time.
DAWSON: You’re quite convinced that it was Mr Rayburn.
HAROLD: You saw him last night, Alleyn. He was in a terrible state. And he was even worse this morning.
DAWSON: Wouldn’t that suggest a rather less premeditated form of murder?
HAROLD: I don’t understand.
DAWSON: From what you say I can see Rayburn lashing out in fury perhaps—but poisoning? Now that’s something that requires a cool head—careful planning.
HAROLD: Yeah—and he’s got just the right devious and twisted mind. Look! (He indicates the pictures about them)
ALLEYN: And you think he also did the sketch of you, Mr Tillet?
HAROLD: I’m not so sure about that. But if he didn’t, then that mate of his certainly did.
ALLEYN: Mr Hemmings?
HAROLD: That’s right.
DAWSON: Mr Tillet, was there any change in the grouping of people in the foyer while you were waiting for the police? That is, prior to the discovery of the real portrait and Mr Crewes being knocked out?
HAROLD: No, not as far as I can remember. Alleyn, of course, was in and out all the time. The boy himself, Rayburn, was there, his girlfriend, the tall woman, Beatrice something-or-other, that other oaf, Hemmings—Wait a minute, Hemmings wasn’t there all the time!
DAWSON: Please think carefully, Mr Tillet. You’re sure that Mr Hemmings disappeared at some stage during the time in question?
HAROLD There was a lot of milling about—you know, people going in and out—but I seem to remember turning to ask Hemmings if he knew Ruby and he wasn’t there. Then later, when I saw the portrait, he was back again.
DAWSON: Thank you, Mr Tillet. You’ve been a great help.
ALLEYN: Had you known Lady Kerr-Bates long?
HAROLD: Yes, we were old friends.
ALLEYN: More than just a business acquaintance?
HAROLD: Yes. She persuaded me to open this place, God help me.
ALLEYN: And she exerted personal rather than business pressure?
HAROLD: You could say that.
ALLEYN: So there was quite a deep relationship between you?
HAROLD: Why not? She’d been a widow for years. She was a very attractive woman.
ALLEYN: Indeed she was. What happened, Mr Tillet, when you left the dinner table last night—after Mr Rayburn and Lady Kerr-Bates left the room? (Dawson isn’t following conversation)
HAROLD: I went into the living room and they were—(suddenly remembers and stops short) And they were talking.
ALLEYN: Yes? Do you remember what they were talking about?
HAROLD: (starting to get annoyed) They were talking! Just talking!
ALLEYN: Nothing occurred that might have upset you?
HAROLD: (very upset) Why the hell should I be upset? What is this?
ALLEYN: I was only wondering if Mr Rayburn or Lady Kerr-Bates did or said anything that might have upset you.
HAROLD: Upset me? That pipsqueak! (Pause) I think that’s all I can tell you. Unless you want to ask any sensible questions, Dawson? (Dawson glances at Alleyn, who shakes his head)
DAWSON: No, that’ll be all for now, thank you, Mr Tillet. We’ll get in touch with you later if necessary.
HAROLD: Right. You know where to contact me. Though I’d appreciate it if you kept to the point. (He exits)
DAWSON: What was that all about?
ALLEYN: He’s a very clever man. He saw what I was up to. It seems to be pretty common gossip that Lady Kerr-Bates and our Mr Tillet were more than friends, and equally common gossip that the same Lady Kerr-Bates was addicted to attractive young men. Bring those three into a triangle—
FRAMPTON: And you have a pretty furious Mr Tillet.
ALLEYN: Exactly. I don’t think he’s the sort of man who’d give up happily to younger competition.
DAWSON: That opens up a new field.
FRAMPTON: What about Hemmings? From what Mr Tillet said, he could quite easily have slipped into the stack-room.
ALLEYN: But why?
FRAMPTON: To stop anybody from getting the portrait?
ALLEYN: Crewes, for instance, who gets a tuppenny one for his pains. But the portrait itself wasn’t lifted. That suggests that whoever clobbered Crewes was after something else. Let’s go and have another look. (Alleyn strides off to the stack-room. Dawson and Frampton follow, rather bewildered)
SCENE 28: STACK-ROOM
(Alleyn moves through the stack-room, Dawson and Frampton following)
FRAMPTON: What are we looking for?
DAWSON: I’m not sure.
ALLEYN: (discovering the corrugated cardboard and string that Bob removed from the portrait and dropped) This, for instance?
FRAMPTON: What is it?
ALLEYN: Come along. (Alleyn strides back to the gallery. The others follow)
SCENE 29: THE GALLERY
(Alleyn, still with the cardboard and string, goes to the portrait and drops the cardboard over it. The bends fit)
DAWSON: Why on earth would anyone risk going into the stack-room at a time like that just to take the wrapping off a picture?
ALLEYN: To clean off the fingerprints?
DAWSON: You mean the murderer didn’t think about the fingerprints till later?
ALLEYN: (is not sure) Now, according to Crewes the portrait was in position when he locked up last night. Everything appeared normal this morning and
from the time the gallery was open there were always people about. That means the switch probably happened overnight. Not a very valuable piece of information, since even I knew where the key was. (He looks at the string, then takes two other pieces of string out of his pocket) And now we have three knots.
DAWSON: Knots?
ALLEYN: I don’t know if it’s of any importance, but this is the string from the portrait cover (he hangs it over the portrait), this from Hemmings’ sketch block (he drapes that one too), and this from the stack-room. And only one of them slips.
DAWSON: Which one’s that?
ALLEYN: The one from the sketch block.
DAWSON: Pity. That suggests it wasn’t Hemmings who retied the cover and wrapped up the portrait.
ALLEYN: Pretty flimsy evidence, I admit. Even so, I don’t think another word with Mr Hemmings would be entirely out of place.
SCENE 30: THE STUDIO
(Beatrice and Dennis. Beatrice is turning over a portfolio of sketches. She is very sympathetic. Dennis is still tense)
BEATRICE: I was wondering how you were getting on.
DENNIS: Fine, thanks, Beatrice.
BEATRICE: You were taking it so hard I was worried.
DENNIS: Beatrice, I’m very grateful to you. I only wish I’d listened to you earlier.
BEATRICE: Perhaps. Hullo, here’s that drawing of me you did last year. I’d forgotten how good it is. It’s superb.
DENNIS: Have it if you like. Have the lot.
BEATRICE: Do you mean that? I’d love to. Are you sure?
DENNIS: Of course—like old times—I’m sorry I lost my temper.
BEATRICE: Never mind. Where’s Bob?
DENNIS: At the gallery. The police called him back.
SCENE 31: THE GALLERY
(Alleyn, Dawson and Frampton are interviewing Bob Hemmings)
BOB: Once and for all, I’ve got nothing to say.
DAWSON: Does that mean you were in the stack-room?
BOB: It means I’ve got nothing to say.
DAWSON: Mr Hemmings, you must realise that this attitude only proves that you’re hiding something.
BOB: No, it just proves that I’m not a very good co-operator. I don’t like team sports and I don’t like policemen.
DAWSON: That doesn’t mean you’re not incapable of inflicting grievous bodily harm.
BOB: You’ll have to do better than that. I read books, you know.
ALLEYN: That sketch block of yours I borrowed. Did you tie it up yourself?
BOB: Yes, I think so. Why?
ALLEYN: Miss Beatrice Page called into the gallery last night, I understand?
BOB: That’s right. She came with me in the taxi when I went to collect the portrait.
ALLEYN: Which you brought back before Crewes locked up.
BOB: That’s right.
ALLEYN: Not that it would have mattered—you knew where the key was. (No reply from Bob) Mr Hemmings, how did you feel when Mr Rayburn was offered the exhibition? (Bob shrugs in reply) Did it produce any sort of tension between the two of you?
BOB: Mr Alleyn, I’m a painter. Quite good, but I’m not in Dennis’s class. That’s not something to bitch about—it’s just fact.
ALLEYN: So there was no friction between you?
BOB: Not on my side.
ALLEYN: On his?
BOB: Maybe. I think he felt guilty—playing the success game. He had a hell of a time one way or another.
DAWSON: And Lady Kerr-Bates?
BOB: Huh. She wouldn’t notice if the sun set in the east—unless it was to the greater social glory of Ruby.
DAWSON: You knew her well at one time, I understand.
BOB: So-so. She thought I had an ‘interesting talent’.
DAWSON: Till Mr Rayburn came along and elbowed you out?
BOB: You’re a real copper, aren’t you? I’ve got nothing to say.
DAWSON: Get out then. But you can be sure of one thing, Hemmings. We’ll be calling on you again.
BOB: Good dog. Keep to it, boy. (He exits)
ALLEYN: I have a feeling he’s not really as odious as that.
DAWSON: You mean he’s protecting someone?
ALLEYN: Perhaps.
DAWSON: Looking at your plan, Mr Alleyn, there were nine people near enough to the bar to have placed the cyanide in the jug during those critical five minutes: Crewes, the barman, the waiter, Tillet, Rayburn, the girl Jill Walker, Miss Page, Miss Cross and Hemmings.
FRAMPTON: Lady Kerr-Bates herself?
DAWSON: Hardly likely.
ALLEYN: Nor is the barman or the waiter, I suppose. So what does that leave us with? Let’s recap. Start with Dennis Rayburn—now what have we got there? Personable young man, promising artist. Taken under the victim’s protective wing. What motive would he have for killing the golden goose? Nerves? Prostitution of his talent? No, not a very likely suspect. Hemmings?
DAWSON: Rejected, would-be protégé? Jealous of his friend’s success? The portrait could easily have been his handiwork.
ALLEYN: I don’t know about that.
DAWSON: Killing Lady Kerr-Bates could be an oblique way of revenging himself on Tillet—or even Rayburn. Too subtle?
ALLEYN: I don’t know … there’s something there … something odd.
DAWSON: What about the girl? Jill Walker?
ALLEYN: Not a serious contender I’d say but she might be more deeply involved with Rayburn than we think.
DAWSON: What about Tillet?
ALLEYN: He was furious when he arrived at the gallery. But I doubt if he’s the sort of person who would carry poison on the off-chance that he wouldn’t like an exhibition he was sponsoring.
DAWSON: But there’s also your triangle theory. He must have known about Lady Kerr-Bates’ tastes and habits. Rayburn could have been the last straw.
ALLEYN: That’s reasonable. And Beatrice Page?
DAWSON: There’s an odd one. Can’t see how she fits in.
ALLEYN: She was Rayburn’s guiding light for many years before Lady Kerr-Bates came on the scene. And Hemmings’ for that matter. Obviously a very dedicated woman with strong feelings.
DAWSON: Then there’s Bradley Crewes. But I can’t see why he should bite the hand that feeds.
ALLEYN: He does feel the exhibition is below his artistic dignity, but it’s not a very strong motive for murder. Not very convincing reasons all round really. I wonder if there’s something we’ve overlooked. And not one of these motives tied up with Bradley Crewes’ little escapade.
FRAMPTON: Who was it who saw Crewes go into the stack-room? That eccentric woman with the opera glasses, wasn’t it?
DAWSON: Miss Violet Cross.
ALLEYN: Yes, what about her?
FRAMPTON: She was standing beside Lady Kerr-Bates at the crucial moment. And I’ve suddenly remembered something—her name wasn’t on the official invitation list. I wonder if she saw more than she’s admitted to.
SCENE 32: STUDIO FLAT
(Alleyn is interviewing Violet Cross in her own studio)
VIOLET: No, no, I don’t think so—I told the police everything I could remember. Mr Tillet just standing there, the barman with the drink, the speeches, poor Ruby collapsing—I told them all about that.
ALLEYN: Do you know Mr Tillet?
VIOLET: Not really. I usually design my own Christmas cards.
ALLEYN: Oh, you also paint?
VIOLET: I dabble a little—in watercolours—but very rarely now. My eyes are not the best.
ALLEYN: Is that why you carry the opera glasses?
VIOLET: Yes—I find sculpting more satisfying—there’s so much you can do by touch, you see—I don’t have to rely so much on my eyes.
ALLEYN: But from what you’ve told us, very little seems to have escaped you.
VIOLET: Oh, do you think so?
ALLEYN: Perhaps the artist’s eye for detail?
VIOLET: Perhaps.
ALLEYN: Do you know Mr Hemmings?
VIOLET: Slightly. I meet most of Beatrice
’s fledglings—that’s what I call them at her place—we were at art school together, years ago now—don’t ask how many. Beatrice’s dedicated her life to young artists, you know—the helping hand, the encouraging word—she’s very little money of her own. And of course she chooses very carefully—she doesn’t suffer fools gladly. Oh no.
ALLEYN: You mean she has enemies?
VIOLET: Enemies?—that’s a strong word. I will say this. If you’re a young artist, you’re either in the Beatrice Page group or you’re out of it—no half measures with Beatrice.
SCENE 33: LIVING-ROOM
(Alleyn is with Beatrice Page in her living-room)
ALLEYN: Do you paint, Miss Page?
BEATRICE: No.
ALLEYN: Oh. Perhaps you have some recent work of one of your protégés here?
BEATRICE: I don’t think so.
ALLEYN: But you used to paint.
BEATRICE: I beg your pardon?
ALLEYN: Miss Cross told me you were at art school together.
BEATRICE: That was 20 years ago, Mr Alleyn.
ALLEYN: Oh.
BEATRICE: Some are born actors, Mr Alleyn, and some are born critics. My work didn’t satisfy me and so I stopped. I’ve never been one to accept second best.
ALLEYN: That was when you decided to work through other painters?
BEATRICE: I suppose so. I didn’t think of it in those terms at the time.
ALLEYN: And you haven’t touched a brush in those 20 years?
BEATRICE: No.
(Alleyn indicates packet of sketches)
ALLEYN: So those are not yours?
BEATRICE: No. They’re Dennis’s. He gave them to me.
ALLEYN: When?
BEATRICE: This afternoon.
ALLEYN: May I?
BEATRICE: Of course.
(He pulls the string. It is not a slip knot)
ALLEYN: Oh no—Ladies’ knots, or am I wrong?
BEATRICE: I’m afraid you’re quite right. Why not cut it?
ALLEYN: Not yet. Basically he’s good, isn’t he? A good painter?
BEATRICE: Yes. And he’ll be better now.
ALLEYN: Your star pupil? (Beatrice smiles in reply) It must have been disappointing for you when Lady Kerr-Bates adopted him.
BEATRICE: I don’t think you can destroy real talent, Mr Alleyn.
ALLEYN: No, I suppose not. Especially when there’s someone like you behind him. A woman of character, of judgement, of great determination. A woman who, once she’s taken hold, doesn’t let go?