EDWARD. Then I’ll come with you.
HENRIETTA. I’d rather be alone.
EDWARD. (Moving below the sofa) I’m coming with you.
HENRIETTA. Don’t you understand? I want to be alone—with my dead.
EDWARD. I’m sorry. (He pauses.) Henrietta, I haven’t said anything—I thought you’d rather I didn’t. But you do know, don’t you, how sorry I am?
HENRIETTA. Sorry? (With a bitter smile) That John Cristow’s dead?
EDWARD. (Taken aback) I meant—sorry for you. I know it’s been a great shock.
HENRIETTA. (Bitterly) Shock? Oh, but I’m tough, Edward. I can stand shocks. Was it a shock to you? (She crosses above the sofa to Left of it.) I wonder what you felt when you saw him lying there? Glad, I suppose. (Accusingly) Were you glad?
EDWARD. Of course I wasn’t glad. Cristow and I had nothing in common, but . . .
HENRIETTA. You had me in common. You were both fond of me, weren’t you? But it didn’t make a bond between you—quite the opposite.
EDWARD. Henrietta—don’t speak so bitterly. I do feel for you in your loss—your grief.
HENRIETTA. (Sombrely) Is it grief?
EDWARD. What do you mean?
HENRIETTA. (To herself) So quick. (She crosses to the fireplace.) It can happen so quickly. One moment living—breathing—and the next—dead—gone—emptiness. Oh, the emptiness. And here we are eating sandwiches and drinking coffee, and calling ourselves alive. And John, who was more alive than any of us, is dead. (She moves Centre.) I say the word, you know, over and over again to myself. Dead—dead—dead—dead—dead.
EDWARD. (Moving in to HENRIETTA and taking her by the shoulders) Henrietta. Henrietta, stop it—stop!
HENRIETTA. (Regaining control of herself; quietly) Didn’t you know I’d feel like this? What did you think? That I’d sit crying gently into a nice little pocket handkerchief while you held my hand? That it would all be a great shock for me, but that presently I’d begin to get over it?
(EDWARD drops his arms.)
And you’d comfort me very nicely? You are nice, Edward—(She crosses below him and sits on the sofa at the Left end of it) but it’s not enough.
EDWARD. (Deeply hurt) Yes, I’ve always known that.
HENRIETTA. What do you think it’s been like here today? With John dead and nobody caring but me and Gerda. With you glad, and Midge upset, and Henry worried, and Lucy enjoying, in a delicate sort of way, the News of the World come from print into real life. Can’t you see how like a fantastic nightmare it is?
EDWARD. (Moving up Right) Yes, I see.
HENRIETTA. At this moment nothing seems real to me but John. I know—I’m being a brute to you, Edward, but I can’t help it, I can’t help resenting that John, who was so alive, is dead . . . (She breaks off.)
EDWARD. And that I—(He turns above the sofa) who am half dead, am alive?
HENRIETTA. (Rising quickly and turning to face EDWARD) I didn’t mean that, Edward.
EDWARD. I think you did, Henrietta.
(HENRIETTA makes a hopeless gesture, turns and exits Right, leaving the window open. EDWARD looks after her like a man in a dream. MIDGE enters Left.)
MIDGE. (Moving Left Centre.) Brrr! It’s cold in here.
EDWARD. (Absently) Yes.
MIDGE. Where’s everybody?
EDWARD. I don’t know.
MIDGE. (Moving up Centre) Is something wrong? (She closes the French windows up Centre, then crosses and closes the window Right.) Do we want the windows open? Edward—(She touches his hand) you’re icy cold. (She takes his hand and leads him to the fireplace.) Come over here and I’ll light a fire. (She takes a box of matches from the mantelpiece, kneels and lights the fire.)
EDWARD. (Moving to the armchair Left Centre, deeply moved) You’re a dear child, Midge. (He sits.)
MIDGE. No, not a child. Do you still have fir cones at Ainswick?
EDWARD. Oh yes, there’s always a basket of them beside the fire.
MIDGE. Dear Ainswick.
EDWARD. (Looking towards the French windows Right.) One shouldn’t have to live there alone.
MIDGE. Did Henrietta go out?
EDWARD. Yes.
MIDGE. What an odd thing to do. It’s raining.
EDWARD. She was upset. Did you know that she and John Cristow . . . ?
MIDGE. Were having an affair? (She rises and replaces the matches on the mantelpiece.) Yes, of course.
EDWARD. Everybody knew, I suppose.
MIDGE. (Turning) Everybody except Gerda.
EDWARD. Damn him!
MIDGE. (Moving to EDWARD and kneeling down Left of him) Darling—don’t. (She holds his arm.)
EDWARD. Even dead—he’s got her.
MIDGE. Don’t, Edward—please.
EDWARD. She’s changed so much—since those days at Ainswick.
MIDGE. We’ve all changed.
EDWARD. I haven’t. I’ve just stayed still.
MIDGE. What about me?
EDWARD. You haven’t changed.
MIDGE. (Releasing his arm and looking away; bitterly) How do you know? You never look at me.
(EDWARD is startled. He takes her face in his left hand.)
I’m a woman, Edward.
(GUDGEON enters Left. MIDGE rises.)
GUDGEON. The Inspector would like to see you in the dining room, sir.
EDWARD. (Rising) Oh yes, certainly.
(He exits Left. GUDGEON closes the door after him. MIDGE moves above the armchair Left Centre to Right of it. During the ensuing dialogue, GUDGEON collects the tray from the coffee table, gets the coffee cups and saucers and puts them on it.)
MIDGE. Is Mrs. Cristow still resting?
GUDGEON. As far as I know, Miss, yes. Doctor Murdock left her some tablets and Simmonds has instructions to administer one every two hours.
MIDGE. Would you like one of us to go up to her?
GUDGEON. I hardly think that necessary, Miss. Simmonds is quite reliable.
MIDGE. I’m sure she is.
GUDGEON. (Moving to the door Left.) Thank you, Miss. Thank you.
(He exits Left taking the tray and coffee cups with him. MIDGE closes the door behind him. HENRIETTA enters the terrace up Centre from Left and taps on the window. MIDGE runs up Centre, lets HENRIETTA in, then closes the window behind her.)
MIDGE. How you startled me. (She nods Right.) I expected you to come in that way.
HENRIETTA. (Crossing to the fire) I’ve been walking round and round the house. I’m glad you lit a fire.
MIDGE. (Moving to Left of the sofa; accusingly) What did you do to Edward?
HENRIETTA. (Absently) Edward?
MIDGE. Yes, when I came in just now, he was looking dreadful—so cold and grey.
HENRIETTA. (Turning) Midge—Midge, if you care so much for Edward, why don’t you do something about him?
MIDGE. Do something? What do you mean?
HENRIETTA. (Impatiently) I don’t know. Stand on a table and shout. Draw attention to yourself. Don’t you know that’s the only hope with a man like Edward?
MIDGE. (Sitting on the sofa at the Left end of it) I don’t think Edward will ever care for anyone but you, Henrietta.
HENRIETTA. Then it’s very unintelligent of him.
MIDGE. Perhaps—but there it is.
HENRIETTA. He doesn’t even know what I’m like. He just goes on caring for his idea of what I once was. Today—I hate Edward.
MIDGE. You can’t hate Edward. Nobody could hate Edward.
HENRIETTA. I can.
MIDGE. But why?
HENRIETTA. Because he reminds me of a lot of things I’d like to forget.
MIDGE. What things?
HENRIETTA. Ainswick.
MIDGE. Ainswick? You want to forget Ainswick?
HENRIETTA. Yes, yes. I was happy at Ainswick. (She moves Left Centre.) Don’t you understand that I can’t bear just now to be reminded of a time when I was happy?
(LADY ANGKATELL enters Left. MIDGE rises.)
&nbs
p; (Abruptly) I shall never go back to Ainswick.
(She moves to the door Left, ignores LADY ANGKATELL and exits.)
LADY ANGKATELL. What did she say?
MIDGE. (Crossing to Right.) She said she would never go back to Ainswick.
LADY ANGKATELL. (Closing the door) Oh, I think she will, darling.
MIDGE. You mean she’ll—marry Edward?
LADY ANGKATELL. Yes. (She crosses to the drinks table, picks up the box of chocolates, then moves to Left of MIDGE.) I think so. (Cheerfully) Now that John Cristow’s out of the way. Oh yes, I think she’ll marry Edward. Everything’s working out quite for the best, isn’t it?
MIDGE. Perhaps John Cristow wouldn’t think so.
LADY ANGKATELL. No, well, I wasn’t thinking of him.
(The INSPECTOR enters Left. He is followed on by DETECTIVE SERGEANT PENNY. The SERGEANT is in plain clothes. He carries a notebook to which he frequently refers, and in which he makes further notes.)
INSPECTOR. Is Miss Angkatell about?
MIDGE. She went upstairs to change, I think. Shall I fetch her?
LADY ANGKATELL. (Crossing to Left.) No, no, I’ll go. I want to see how Gerda is. (She offers the chocolates to the INSPECTOR.) Sweetie? Soft centres.
INSPECTOR. No, thank you.
LADY ANGKATELL. (Offering the sweets to the SERGEANT) There’s a jelly baby there.
SERGEANT. No, thank you.
(LADY ANGKATELL exits Left. The SERGEANT closes the door.)
INSPECTOR. (Crossing to Left of the sofa) You’re Miss Harvey, aren’t you?
MIDGE. Yes. Margerie Harvey.
INSPECTOR. You don’t live here? (He indicates the sofa.) Do sit down.
MIDGE. No, I live at twenty-seven Strathmere Mansions, W—two.
INSPECTOR. But you are a relation?
MIDGE. (Sitting on the sofa at the Right end of it) My mother was Lady Angkatell’s first cousin.
INSPECTOR. And where were you when the shot was fired?
MIDGE. In the garden.
INSPECTOR. You were all rather scattered, weren’t you? (He crosses above the sofa to Right of it.) Lady Angkatell had just come in from the farm. Mr. Angkatell down from the woods. You from the garden, Mrs. Cristow from her bedroom, Sir Henry from the target alley. And Miss Angkatell?
MIDGE. She’d been in the garden somewhere.
INSPECTOR. (Crossing above the sofa to Left of it) You quite boxed the compass between you all. Now, Miss Harvey, I’d like you to describe what you saw when you came in here, very carefully.
MIDGE. (Pointing Left Centre) John Cristow was lying there. There was blood—Mrs. Cristow was standing with the—revolver in her hand.
INSPECTOR. And you thought she had shot him?
MIDGE. Well, frankly, yes, I did.
INSPECTOR. You had no doubt about it?
MIDGE. No, not then.
INSPECTOR. (Quickly) But you have now. Why?
MIDGE. I suppose because I realized that I simply jumped to conclusions.
INSPECTOR. Why were you so sure she had shot him?
MIDGE. Because she had the revolver in her hand, I suppose.
INSPECTOR. But you must have thought she had some reason for shooting him. (He looks keenly at her.)
MIDGE. (Looking troubled) I . . .
INSPECTOR. Well, Miss Harvey?
MIDGE. I don’t know of any reason.
INSPECTOR. In fact, as far as you know, they were a very devoted couple?
MIDGE. Oh yes, they were.
INSPECTOR. I see. (He crosses below the sofa to Right of it.) Let’s get on. What happened next?
MIDGE. I think—yes, Sir Henry went and knelt down by him. He said he wasn’t dead. He told Gudgeon to telephone for the doctor.
INSPECTOR. Gudgeon? That’s the butler. So he was there too.
MIDGE. Yes, he was. Gudgeon went to the telephone and just then John Cristow opened his eyes. I think he tried to struggle up. And then—then he died. It was horrible.
INSPECTOR. And that’s all?
MIDGE. Yes.
INSPECTOR. (Moving up Right) He didn’t say anything at all before he died?
MIDGE. I think he said “Henrietta.”
INSPECTOR. (Turning) he said “Henrietta.”
MIDGE. She—(Agitatedly) she was just opposite him when he opened his eyes. He was looking right at her. (She looks at the INSPECTOR as if in explanation.)
INSPECTOR. I see. That’s all for now, thank you, Miss Harvey.
MIDGE. (Rising and crossing to the door Left) Well, I’d better go and find Henrietta. Lady Angkatell is so very vague, you know. She usually forgets what she went to do.
(The SERGEANT opens the door. MIDGE exits Left and the SERGEANT closes the door behind her.)
INSPECTOR. (Thoughtfully) Lady Angkatell is so very vague.
SERGEANT. (Crossing to Centre) She’s bats, if you ask me.
(The INSPECTOR holds out his hand and the SERGEANT gives him his notebook.)
INSPECTOR. I wonder. I wonder. (He flicks over the pages of the notebook.) Interesting discrepancies. Lady Angkatell says, (He reads) “He murmured something before he died, but she couldn’t catch what it was.”
SERGEANT. Perhaps she’s deaf.
INSPECTOR. Oh no, I don’t think she is. According to Sir Henry, John Cristow said “Henrietta” in a loud voice. When I put it to her—but not before—Miss Harvey says the same thing. Edward Angkatell says Cristow died without saying a word. Gudgeon does not precisely recollect. (He moves below the sofa.) They all know something, Penny, but they’re not telling us. (He sits on the sofa at the Right end of it.)
SERGEANT. We’ll get round to it. (He crosses to the INSPECTOR.) Think the wife did shoot him? (He takes his notebook from the INSPECTOR, then eases to Right of the sofa.)
INSPECTOR. Wives so often have excellent reasons for shooting their husbands that one tends to suspect them automatically.
SERGEANT. It’s clear enough that all the others think she did it.
INSPECTOR. Or do they probably all want to think she did it?
SERGEANT. Meaning exactly?
INSPECTOR. There’s an atmosphere of family solidarity in this house. They’re all blood relations. Mrs. Cristow’s the only outsider. Yes, I think they’d be glad to be sure she did it.
SERGEANT. (Crossing above the sofa to Centre.) But you’re not so sure?
INSPECTOR. Actually anyone could have shot him. There are no alibis in this case. (He rises and stands Right of the sofa.) No times or places to check. Just look at the entrances and exits. You could shoot him from the terrace, pop round the house and—(He indicates the window Right) in by this window. Or through the front door and hall and in by that door, and if you say you’ve come from the farm or the kitchen garden or from shooting in the woods, nobody can check that statement. (He looks through the window Right.) There are shrubs and undergrowth right up to the house. You could play hide-and-seek there for hours. (He moves above the sofa.) The revolver was one of those used for target practice. Anyone could have picked it up and they’d all handled it, though the only clear prints on it are those of Mrs. Cristow and Henrietta Angkatell. (He moves Left of the sofa.) It all boils down really to what sort of a man John Cristow was. (He moves below the sofa.) If you know all about a man, you can guess who would have wanted to murder him.
SERGEANT. We’ll pick up all that in London, in Harley Street. Secretary, servants.
INSPECTOR. (Sitting on the sofa at the Left end of it) Any luck with the servants here?
SERGEANT. Not yet. They’re the starchy kind. There’s no kitchen maid unfortunately. I always had a success with kitchen maids. (He moves above the armchair Left Centre to the fireplace.) There’s a daily girl as underhousemaid I’ve got hopes of. I’d like to put in a little more work on her now, sir, if you don’t want me.
(The INSPECTOR nods. The SERGEANT grins and exits Left. The INSPECTOR rises, moves to the window Right, looks out for a moment, then turns, moves up Centre and goes out on to
the terrace. After a few moments he moves to the sofa and sits on it at the Left end. He becomes aware of something under the cushion behind him, moves the cushion and picks up VERONICA’s red handbag. He opens the bag, looks into it and shows considerable surprise. He closes the bag, rises, moves to Left of the sofa and weighs the bag in his hand. As he does so voices are heard off Left. He immediately replaces the bag on the sofa and covers it with the cushion.)
MIDGE. (Off Left) Oh, there you are, Henrietta. The Inspector would like to see you.
HENRIETTA. (Off Left) Thank you, Midge. Lucy’s just told me. I’m going in to see him now.
MIDGE. (Off Left) Oh good. I thought she might forget.
(The INSPECTOR crosses to Left of the sofa. HENRIETTA enters Left.)
HENRIETTA. (Closing the door) You wanted to see me? (She crosses to the sofa and sits on it at the Left end.)
INSPECTOR. Yes, Miss Angkatell. You’re a relation as well, aren’t you?
HENRIETTA. Yes, we’re all cousins. It’s rather confusing because Lady Angkatell married her second cousin and is actually an Angkatell herself.
INSPECTOR. Just a family party—with the exception of Doctor and Mrs. Cristow?
HENRIETTA. Yes.
INSPECTOR. (Moving up Right) Will you give me your account of what happened?
HENRIETTA. I was in the flower garden. (She points Right.) It’s through there. Not very far from the house. I heard the shot and realized it came from the house and not from the target alley down below. I thought that was strange, so I came in.
INSPECTOR. By which window?
HENRIETTA. (Pointing Right) That one.
INSPECTOR. Will you describe what you saw?
HENRIETTA. Sir Henry and Gudgeon, the butler, were bending over John Cristow. Mrs. Cristow was beside them. She had the revolver in her hand.
INSPECTOR. (Moving to Right of the sofa) And you concluded that she had shot him?
HENRIETTA. Why should I think so?
INSPECTOR. Didn’t you, in fact, think so?
HENRIETTA. No, I didn’t.
INSPECTOR. What did you think, then?
HENRIETTA. I don’t think I thought at all. It was all rather unexpected. Sir Henry told Gudgeon to call the doctor and he went over to the phone.
INSPECTOR. Who else was in the room?
HENRIETTA. Everybody, I think. No—Edward came in after I did.
INSPECTOR. Which way?
The Mousetrap and Other Plays Page 24