The Mousetrap and Other Plays

by Agatha Christie

  SIR WILFRID. Miss French knew you were a married man?

  LEONARD. Oh, yes.

  SIR WILFRID. But she didn’t suggest that you should bring your wife to see her?

  LEONARD. (Slightly embarrassed.) No. She—well, she seemed to take it for granted my wife and I didn’t get on.

  SIR WILFRID. Did you deliberately give her that impression?

  LEONARD. No, I didn’t. Indeed I didn’t. But she seemed to—well, assume it, and I thought perhaps if I kept dragging Romaine into it she’d, well, lose interest in me. I didn’t want exactly to cadge money from her, but I’d invented a gadget for a car—a really good idea it is—and if I could have persuaded her to finance that, well, I mean it would have been her money, and it might have brought her in a lot. Oh, it’s very difficult to explain—but I wasn’t sponging on her, Sir Wilfrid, really I wasn’t.

  SIR WILFRID. What sums of money did you obtain at any time from Miss French?

  LEONARD. None. None at all.

  SIR WILFRID. Tell me something about the housekeeper.

  LEONARD. Janet MacKenzie? She was a regular old tyrant, you know, Janet was. Fairly bullied poor Miss French. Looked after her very well and all that, but the poor old dear couldn’t call her soul her own when Janet was about. (Thoughtfully.) Janet didn’t like me at all.

  SIR WILFRID. Why didn’t she like you?

  LEONARD. Oh, jealous, I expect. I don’t think she liked my helping Miss French with her business affairs.

  SIR WILFRID. Oh, so you helped Miss French with her business affairs?

  LEONARD. Yes. She was worried about some of her investments and things, and she found it a bit difficult to fill up forms and all that sort of thing. Yes, I helped her with a lot of things like that.

  SIR WILFRID. Now, Mr. Vole, I’m going to ask you a very serious question. And it’s one to which it’s vital I should have a truthful answer. You were in low water financially, you had the handling of this lady’s affairs. Now did you at any time convert to your own use the securities that you handled?

  (LEONARD is about to repudiate this hotly.)

  Now, wait a minute, Mr. Vole, before you answer. Because, you see, there are two points of view. Either we can make a feature of your probity and honesty or, if you swindled the woman in any way, then we must take the line that you had no motive for murder, since you had already a profitable source of income. You can see that there are advantages in either point of view. What I want is the truth. Take your time if you like before you reply.

  LEONARD. I assure you, Sir Wilfrid, that I played dead straight and you won’t find anything to the contrary. Dead straight.

  SIR WILFRID. Thank you, Mr. Vole. You relieve my mind very much. I pay you the compliment of believing that you are far too intelligent to lie over such a vital matter. And we now come to October the. . . (He hesitates.)

  MAYHEW. The fourteenth.

  SIR WILFRID. Fourteenth. (He rises.) Did Miss French ask you to go and see her that night?

  LEONARD. No, she didn’t, as a matter of fact. But I’d come across a new kind of gadget and I thought she’d like it. So I slipped up there that evening and got there about a quarter to eight. It was Janet MacKenzie’s night out and I knew she’d be alone and might be rather lonely.

  SIR WILFRID. It was Janet MacKenzie’s night out and you knew that fact.

  LEONARD. (Cheerfully.) Oh yes, I knew Janet always went out on a Friday.

  SIR WILFRID. That’s not quite so good.

  LEONARD. Why not? It seems very natural that I should choose that evening to go and see her.

  SIR WILFRID. Please go on, Mr. Vole.

  LEONARD. Well, I got there at a quarter to eight. She’d finished her supper but I had a cup of coffee with her and we played a game of Double Demon. Then at nine o’clock I said good night to her and went home.

  (SIR WILFRID crosses below the OTHERS to L.)

  MAYHEW. You told me the housekeeper said she came home that evening earlier than usual.

  LEONARD. Yes, the police told me she came back for something she’d forgotten and she heard—or she says she heard—somebody talking with Miss French. Well, whoever it was, it wasn’t me.

  SIR WILFRID. Can you prove that, Mr. Vole?

  LEONARD. Yes, of course I can prove it. I was at home again with my wife by then. That’s what the police kept asking me. Where I was at nine-thirty. Well, I mean some days one wouldn’t know where one was. As it happens I can remember quite well that I’d gone straight home to Romaine and we hadn’t gone out again.

  SIR WILFRID. (Crossing up C.) You live in a flat?

  LEONARD. Yes. We’ve got a tiny maisonette over a shop behind Euston Station.

  SIR WILFRID. (Standing up L. of LEONARD) Did anybody see you returning to the flat?

  LEONARD. I don’t suppose so. Why should they?

  SIR WILFRID. It might be an advantage if they had.

  LEONARD. But surely you don’t think—I mean if she were really killed at half past nine my wife’s evidence is all I need, isn’t it?

  (SIR WILFRID and MAYHEW look at each other. SIR WILFRID crosses and stands L.)

  MAYHEW. And your wife will say definitely that you were at home at that time?

  LEONARD. Of course she will.

  MAYHEW. (Rising and moving to the fireplace) You are very fond of your wife and your wife is very fond of you?

  LEONARD. (His face softening) Romaine is absolutely devoted to me. She’s the most devoted wife any man could have.

  MAYHEW. I see. You are happily married.

  LEONARD. Couldn’t be happier. Romaine’s wonderful, absolutely wonderful. I’d like you to know her, Mr. Mayhew.

  (There is a KNOCK at the door.)

  SIR WILFRID. (Calling) Come in.

  GRETA. (Enters. She carries an evening paper.) The evening paper, Sir Wilfrid. (She points to a paragraph as she hands the paper to him.)

  SIR WILFRID. Thank you, Greta.

  GRETA. Would you like a cup of tea, sir?

  SIR WILFRID. No, thank you. Oh, would you like a cup, Vole?

  LEONARD. No thank you, sir.

  SIR WILFRID. No, thank you, Greta. (He crosses below the OTHERS to R. of the desk)

  (GRETA exits.)

  MAYHEW. I think it would be advisable for us to have a meeting with your wife.

  LEONARD. You mean have a regular round-table conference?

  (SIR WILFRID sits R. of the desk.)

  MAYHEW. I wonder, Mr. Vole, if you are taking this business quite seriously enough?

  LEONARD. (Nervously.) I am. I am, really, but it seems—well, I mean it seems so much like a bad dream. I mean that it should be happening to me. Murder. It’s a thing you read about in books or newspapers, but you can’t believe it’s a thing that could ever happen to you, or touch you in any way. I suppose that’s why I keep trying to make a joke of it, but it isn’t a joke, really.

  MAYHEW. No, I’m afraid it’s not a joke.

  LEONARD. But I mean it’s all right, isn’t it? Because I mean if they think Miss French was killed at half past nine and I was at home with Romaine . . .

  MAYHEW. How did you go home? By bus or underground?

  LEONARD. I walked. It took me about twenty-five minutes, but it was a fine night—a bit windy.

  MAYHEW. Did you see anyone you knew on the way?

  LEONARD. No, but does it matter? I mean Romaine . . .

  SIR WILFRID. The evidence of a devoted wife unsupported by any other evidence may not be completely convincing, Mr. Vole.

  LEONARD. You mean, they’d think Romaine would tell a lie on my account?

  SIR WILFRID. It has been known, Mr. Vole.

  LEONARD. Oh, I’m sure she would, too, only in this case I mean she won’t be telling a lie. I mean it really is so. You do believe me, don’t you?

  SIR WILFRID. Yes, I believe you, Mr. Vole, but it’s not me you will have to convince. You are aware, are you not, that Miss French left a will leaving you all her money?

  LEONARD.
(Absolutely flabbergasted.) Left all her money to me? You’re joking!

  (MAYHEW resumes his seat C.)

  SIR WILFRID. I’m not joking. It’s in tonight’s evening paper. (He hands the paper across the desk.)

  LEONARD. (Reads the paragraph.) Well, I can hardly believe it.

  SIR WILFRID. You knew nothing about it?

  LEONARD. Absolutely nothing. She never said a word. (He hands the paper to MAYHEW.)

  MAYHEW. You’re quite sure of that, Mr. Vole?

  LEONARD. Absolutely sure. I’m very grateful to her—yet in a way I rather wish now that she hadn’t. I mean it—it’s a bit unfortunate as things are, isn’t it, sir?

  SIR WILFRID. It supplies you with a very adequate motive. That is, if you knew about it, which you say you didn’t. Miss French never talked to you about making a will?

  LEONARD. She said to Janet once, “You’re afraid I shall make my will again,” but that was nothing to do with me. I mean, it was just a bit of a dust-up between them. (His manner changes.) Do you really think they’re going to arrest me?

  SIR WILFRID. I think you must prepare yourself, Mr. Vole, for that eventuality.

  LEONARD. (Rising) You—you will do the best you can for me, won’t you, sir?

  SIR WILFRID. (With friendliness.) You may rest assured, my dear Mr. Vole, that I will do everything in my power to help you. Don’t worry. Leave everything in my hands.

  LEONARD. You’ll look after Romaine, won’t you? I mean, she’ll be in an awful state—it will be terrible for her.

  SIR WILFRID. Don’t worry, my boy. Don’t worry.

  LEONARD. (Resuming his seat; to MAYHEW) Then the money side, too. That worries me. I’ve got a few quid, but it’s not much. Perhaps I oughtn’t to have asked you to do anything for me.

  MAYHEW. I think we shall be able to put up adequate defence. The Court provides for these cases you know.

  LEONARD. (Rising and moving above the desk) I can’t believe it. I can’t believe that I, Leonard Vole, may be standing in a dock saying “Not guilty.” People staring at me. (He shakes himself as though it were a bad dream then turns to MAYHEW.) I can’t see why they don’t think it was a burglar. I mean, apparently the window was forced and smashed and a lot of things were strewn around, so the papers said. (He resumes his seat.) I mean, it seems much more probable.

  MAYHEW. The police must have some good reason for not thinking that it was a burglary.

  LEONARD. Well, it seems to me . . .

  (CARTER enters.)

  SIR WILFRID. Yes, Carter?

  CARTER. (Crossing above the desk) Excuse me, sir, there are two gentlemen here asking to see Mr. Vole.

  SIR WILFRID. The police?

  CARTER. Yes, sir.

  (MAYHEW rises.)

  SIR WILFRID. (Rising and crossing to the door) All right, John, I’ll go and talk to them.

  (SIR WILFRID exits and CARTER follows him off.)

  LEONARD. My God! Is this—it?

  MAYHEW. I’m afraid it may be, my boy. Now take it easy. Don’t lose heart.

  (He pats LEONARD on the shoulder.) Make no further statement—leave it all to us. (He replaces his chair L. of the fireplace.)

  LEONARD. But how did they know I’m here?

  MAYHEW. It seems probable that they have had a man watching you.

  LEONARD. (Still unable to believe it.) Then they really do suspect me.

  (SIR WILFRID, DETECTIVE INSPECTOR HEARNE and a plain-clothes detective enter. The INSPECTOR is a tall, good-looking officer.)

  INSPECTOR. (As he enters; to SIR WILFRID) I’m sorry to trouble you, sir.

  SIR WILFRID. (Standing up L.) This is Mr. Vole.

  (LEONARD rises.)

  INSPECTOR. (Crossing to LEONARD) Is your name Leonard Vole?

  LEONARD. Yes.

  INSPECTOR. I am Detective Inspector Hearne. I have here a warrant for your arrest on the charge of murdering Emily French on October fourteenth last. I must warn you that anything you say may be taken down and used in evidence.

  LEONARD. O.K. (He looks nervously at SIR WILFRID then crosses and takes his hat from the hooks up L.) I’m ready.

  MAYHEW. (Moving to L. of the INSPECTOR) Good afternoon, Inspector Hearne. My name is Mayhew. I am representing Mr. Vole.

  INSPECTOR. Good afternoon, Mr. Mayhew. That’s quite all right. We’ll take him along and charge him now.

  (LEONARD and the DETECTIVE exit.)

  (He crosses to SIR WILFRID. To MAYHEW.) Very seasonable weather we’re having just now. Quite a nip of frost last night. We’ll be seeing you later, sir, I expect. (He crosses to the door.) Hope we haven’t inconvenienced you, Sir Wilfrid.

  SIR WILFRID. I am never inconvenienced.

  (The INSPECTOR laughs politely and exits.)

  (He closes the door.) I must say, John, that that young man is in a worse mess than he seems to think.

  MAYHEW. He certainly is. How does he strike you?

  SIR WILFRID. (Crossing to L. of MAYHEW) Extraordinarily naïve. Yet in some ways quite shrewd. Intelligent, I should say. But he certainly doesn’t realize the danger of his position.

  MAYHEW. Do you think he did it?

  SIR WILFRID. I’ve no idea. On the whole, I should say not. (Sharply.) You agree?

  MAYHEW. (Taking his pipe from his pocket) I agree.

  (SIR WILFRID takes the tobacco jar from the mantelpiece and hands it to MAYHEW, who crosses, stands above the desk and fills his pipe.)

  SIR WILFRID. Oh well, he seems to have impressed both of us favourably. I can’t think why. I never heard a weaker story. God knows what we’re going to do with it. The only evidence in his favour seems to be his wife’s—and who’s going to believe a wife?

  MAYHEW. (With dry humour.) It has been known to happen.

  SIR WILFRID. She’s a foreigner, too. Nine out of the twelve in a jury box believe a foreigner is lying anyway. She’ll be emotional and upset, and won’t understand what the prosecuting counsel says to her. Still, we shall have to interview her. You’ll see, she’ll have hysterics all over my Chambers.

  MAYHEW. Perhaps you’d prefer not to accept the brief.

  SIR WILFRID. Who says I won’t accept it? Just because I point out that the boy has an absolute tomfool story to tell.

  MAYHEW. (Crossing and handing the tobacco jar to SIR WILFRID) But a true one.

  SIR WILFRID. (Replacing the jar on the mantelpiece) It must be a true one. It couldn’t be so idiotic if it wasn’t true. Put all the facts down in black and white and the whole thing is utterly damning.

  (MAYHEW feels in his pockets for matches.)

  And yet, when you talk to the boy, and he blurts out these damning facts, you realize that the whole thing could happen just as he said. Damn it, I had the equivalent of an Aunt Betsy myself. I loved her dearly.

  MAYHEW. He’s got a good personality, I think. Sympathetic.

  SIR WILFRID. (Taking a matchbox from his pocket and handing it to MAYHEW) Yes, he ought to go down well with the jury. That cuts no ice with the Judge, though. And he’s the simple sort of chap who may get rattled easily in the box.

  (MAYHEW finds that the box is empty and throws it in the wastepaper basket.)

  A lot depends on this girl.

  (There is a KNOCK at the door.)

  (He calls.) Come in.

  (GRETA enters. She is excited and a little scared. She closes the door.)

  Yes, Greta, what is it?

  GRETA. (In a whisper.) Mrs. Leonard Vole is here.

  MAYHEW. Mrs. Vole.

  SIR WILFRID. Come here. You saw that young man? He’s been arrested for murder.

  GRETA. (Crossing to L. of SIR WILFRID) I know. Isn’t it exciting?

  SIR WILFRID. Do you think he did it?

  GRETA. Oh no, sir, I’m sure he didn’t.

  SIR WILFRID. Oh, why not?

  GRETA. He’s far too nice.

  SIR WILFRID. (To MAYHEW) That makes three of us. (To GRETA.) Bring Mrs. Vole in.

  (GRETA crosses and exits.)

>   And we’re probably three credulous fools—(He crosses to the chair L. of the desk.) taken in by a young man with a pleasing personality. (He sets the chair in readiness for ROMAINE.)

  CARTER. (Enters and stands to one side. Announcing) Mrs. Vole.

  (ROMAINE enters. She is a foreign woman of great personality, but very quiet. Her voice has a strangely ironic inflection.)

  MAYHEW. (Crossing to R. of ROMAINE) My dear Mrs. Vole. (He goes towards her with a great air of sympathy, but is slightly rebuffed by her personality.)

  (CARTER exits, closing the door behind him.)

  ROMAINE. Ah! You are Mr. Mayhew.

  MAYHEW. Yes. This is Sir Wilfrid Robarts, who has agreed to handle your husband’s case for him.

  ROMAINE. (Crossing to C.) How do you do, Sir Wilfrid?

  SIR WILFRID. How do you do?

  ROMAINE. I have just come from your office, Mr. Mayhew. They told me you were here with my husband.

  SIR WILFRID. Quite, quite.

  ROMAINE. Just as I arrived I thought I saw Leonard getting into a car. There were two men with him.

  SIR WILFRID. Now, my dear Mrs. Vole, you must not upset yourself.

  (ROMAINE is not in the least upset.)

  (He is slightly disconcerted.) Won’t you sit down, here?

  ROMAINE. Thank you. (She sits in the chair L. of the desk.)

  SIR WILFRID. (Moving above the desk to R. of it) There is nothing to be alarmed about as yet, and you must not give way. (He moves below the desk.)

  ROMAINE. (After a pause.) Oh, no, I shall not give way.

  SIR WILFRID. Then let me tell you that, as perhaps you already suspect, your husband has just been arrested.

  ROMAINE. For the murder of Miss Emily French?

  SIR WILFRID. I’m afraid so, yes. But please don’t be upset.

  ROMAINE. You keep saying that, Sir Wilfrid, but I am not upset.

  SIR WILFRID. No. No, I see you have great fortitude.

  ROMAINE. You can call it that if you like.

  SIR WILFRID. The great thing is to be calm and to tackle all this sensibly.

  ROMAINE. That suits me very well. But you must not hide anything from me, Sir Wilfrid. You must not try and spare me. I want to know everything. (With a slightly different inflection.) I want to know—the worst.

  SIR WILFRID. Splendid. Splendid. That’s the right way to tackle things. (He moves to R. of the desk.) Now, dear lady, we’re not going to give way to alarm or despondency, we’re going to look at things in a sensible and straightforward manner. (He sits R. of the desk.) Your husband became friendly with Miss French about six weeks ago. You were—er—aware of that friendship?