ROYDE. Thought that was what you meant.
TREVES. (Moving to R. of Royde.) No, no, I was referring to a most distressing scene that took place in here earlier, to part of which I was a reluctant witness. That unfortunate young woman—er—Kay, had a fit of violent hysterics.
ROYDE. What was the row about?
TREVES. I’m afraid it was Nevile’s fault.
ROYDE. That doesn’t surprise me. He’s been behaving like a damn fool. (He moves on to the rostrum.)
TREVES. I entirely agree. His conduct has been most reprehensible. (He sighs and sits on the chaise.)
ROYDE. Was—Audrey mixed up in the row?
TREVES. She was the cause of it. (Kay enters quickly L. She looks subdued and tired. She carries her handbag.)
KAY. Oh! Good—good morning.
TREVES. (Rising.) Good morning, Kay.
ROYDE. Good morning.
KAY. (Moving L. C.; nervous and ill at ease.) We’re—we’re the only ones up, aren’t we?
TREVES. I think so. I haven’t seen anyone else. I breakfasted in—er—solitary state.
ROYDE. Haven’t had mine yet. Think I’ll go and hunt some up. (To Kay.) Have you had breakfast?
KAY. No. I’ve only just come down. I—I don’t want any breakfast. I feel like hell.
ROYDE. Um—could eat a house, myself. (He crosses below Kay to the door L.) See you later. (Royde exits L.)
KAY. (With a step or two towards Treves, after a slight pause.) Mr. Treves—I—I’m afraid I behaved—rather badly last night.
TREVES. It was very natural that you should be upset.
KAY. I lost my temper and I said a lot of—of foolish things.
TREVES. We are all apt to do that at times. You had every provocation. Nevile was, in my opinion, very much to blame.
KAY. He was led into it. Audrey’s been determined to cause trouble between Nevile and me ever since we came here.
TREVES. (Moving above the coffee table.) I don’t think you’re being quite fair to her.
KAY. She planned this, I tell you. She knows that Nevile’s always—always felt guilty at the way he treated her.
TREVES. (Moving to R. of Kay.) No, no, I’m sure you’re wrong.
KAY. No, no, I’m not wrong. You see, Mr. Treves, I went over it all in the night, and Audrey thought that if she could get us all here together and—(She crosses to R. of the coffee table.) and pretend to be friendly and forgiving that she could get him back. She’s worked on his conscience. Pale and aloof—creeping about like a—like a grey ghost. She knew what effect that would have on Nevile. He’s always reproached himself because he thought he’d treated her badly. (She sits on the chaise.) Right from the beginning—or nearly the beginning—Audrey’s shadow has been between us. Nevile couldn’t quite forget about her—she was always there at the back of his mind.
TREVES. You can hardly blame her for that.
KAY. Oh, don’t you see? She knew how Nevile felt. She knew what the result would be if they were thrown together again.
TREVES. I think you are giving her credit for more cunning than she possesses.
KAY. You’re all on her side—all of you.
TREVES. My dear Kay!
KAY. (Rising.) You’d like to see Nevile go back to Audrey. I’m the interloper—I don’t belong—Nevile said so last night and he was right. Camilla’s always disliked me—she’s put up with me for Nevile’s sake. I’m supposed to see everyone’s point of view but my own. What I feel or think doesn’t matter. If my life is all smashed up it’s just too bad, but it doesn’t matter. It’s only Audrey who matters.
TREVES. No, no, no.
KAY. (Her voice rising.) Well, she’s not going to smash up my life. I don’t care what I do to stop it, but I will. I’ll make it impossible for Nevile to go back to her. (Nevile enters L.)
NEVILE. (Taking in the situation.) What’s the matter now? More trouble?
KAY. What do you expect after the way you behaved last night? (She sits on the chaise and takes a handkerchief from her bag. Treves moves on to the R. end of the rostrum.)
NEVILE. (Crossing slowly and standing up L. of Kay.) It was you who made all the fuss, Kay. I was prepared to talk the matter over calmly.
KAY. Calmly! Did you imagine that I was going to accept your suggestion that I should divorce you, and leave the way clear for Audrey, as if—as if you were inviting me to—to go to a dance? (Treves crosses to the L. of the rostrum.)
NEVILE. No, but at least you needn’t behave in this hysterical fashion when you’re staying in other people’s houses. For goodness’ sake control yourself and try to behave properly.
KAY. Like she does, I suppose?
NEVILE. At any rate, Audrey doesn’t make an exhibition of herself.
KAY. She’s turning you against me—just as she intended.
NEVILE. Look here, Kay, this isn’t Audrey’s fault. I told you that last night. I explained the situation. I was quite open and honest about it.
KAY. (Scornfully.) Open and honest!
NEVILE. Yes. I can’t help feeling the way I do.
KAY. How do you suppose I feel? You don’t care about that, do you?
TREVES. (Moving down C. and interposing.) I really think, Nevile, that you should very seriously consider your attitude in this—er—matter. Kay is your wife. She has certain rights of which you cannot deprive her in this—this cavalier manner.
NEVILE. I admit that, but—I’m willing to do the—the right thing.
KAY. The right thing!
TREVES. Furthermore it is hardly the—er—proper procedure to discuss this under Lady Tressilian’s roof. It is bound to upset her very seriously. (He crosses below Nevile to L. of Kay.) My sympathies are entirely with Kay, but I think you both have a duty to your hostess and to your fellow guests. I suggest that you postpone any further discussion of the matter until your visit here has terminated.
NEVILE. (A little shamefacedly.) I suppose you’re right, Mr. Treves—yes, of course, you’re right. I’m willing. What do you say, Kay?
KAY. As long as Audrey doesn’t try and . . .
NEVILE. (Sharply.) Audrey hasn’t tried anything.
TREVES. (To Kay.) Ssh! I think, my dear, you would be well advised to agree to my suggestion. It is only a question of a few more days.
KAY. (Rising, ungraciously.) Oh, very well then. (She moves to the French windows.)
NEVILE. (Relieved.) Well, that’s that. I’m going to get some breakfast. (He moves to the door L.) We might all go sailing later on. (He goes on to the L. end of the rostrum and glances out of the window.) There’s quite a good breeze. (He looks at Treves.) Would you like to come?
TREVES. I’m afraid I’m a little too old for that sort of thing. (He crosses towards the door L.)
NEVILE. What about you, Kay?
KAY. (Moving R. C.) What about Ted? We promised him we’d go over this morning.
NEVILE. There’s no reason why he shouldn’t come, too. I’ll get hold of Royde and Audrey and see what they think of the idea. It should be lovely out in the bay. (Audrey enters L. She looks worried.)
AUDREY. (Anxiously.) Mr. Treves—what do you think we ought to do? We can’t wake Mary. (Kay moves down R. of the chaise.)
NEVILE. Can’t wake her? (He moves off the rostrum to C.) What do you mean?
AUDREY. Just that. When Mrs. Barrett came, she took up Mary’s morning tea as usual. (She moves slowly L. C.) Mary was fast asleep. Mrs. Barrett drew the curtains and called to her, but Mary didn’t wake up, so she left the tea on the bedside table. She didn’t bother much when Mary didn’t come down, but when Mary didn’t come down to fetch Camilla’s tea, Mrs. Barrett went up again. Mary’s tea was stone cold and she was still asleep.
TREVES. (Moving down L. of the armchair L. C.) She was very tired last night, Audrey.
AUDREY. But this isn’t a natural sleep, Mr. Treves. It can’t be. Mrs. Barrett shook her—hard—and she didn’t wake. I went in to Mary and I tried to wake her, too. There’s defin
itely something wrong with her.
NEVILE. Do you mean she’s unconscious?
AUDREY. I don’t know. She looks very pale and she just lies there—like a log.
KAY. Perhaps she took some sleeping pills.
AUDREY. (Moving C.) That’s what I thought, but it’s so unlike Mary. (She turns to Treves.) What shall we do?
TREVES. I think you should get a doctor. She may be ill.
NEVILE. (Crossing to the door L.) I’ll go and phone Lazenby and get him to come at once. (Nevile exits quickly L.)
TREVES. (Moving L. C.) Have you told Lady Tressilian, Audrey?
AUDREY. (Moving R. C.; shaking her head.) No, not yet. I didn’t want to disturb her. They’re making her some fresh tea in the kitchen. I’m going to take it up. I’ll tell her then.
TREVES. I sincerely hope it’s nothing serious.
KAY. She’s probably taken an overdose of sleeping stuff. (She sits in the easy chair down R.)
TREVES. That could be extremely serious.
AUDREY. I can’t imagine Mary doing such a thing. (Royde enters L.)
ROYDE. (Moving between Treves and Audrey.) I heard Strange telephoning Dr. Lazenby. What’s the matter?
AUDREY. It’s Mary. She’s still asleep and we can’t get her to wake up. Kay thinks she may have taken an overdose of some drug.
KAY. Something like that must have happened or you’d be able to wake her.
ROYDE. Sleeping stuff, do you mean? Shouldn’t think she’d have needed anything like that last night. She was dog tired.
TREVES. I’m sure she wouldn’t take any sort of drug, you know—in case the bell rang.
KAY. Bell?
ROYDE. There’s a bell in her room. Lady Tressilian always rings it if she wants anything in the night. (To Audrey.) Remember she was telling us about it last night.
AUDREY. Mary wouldn’t take anything that would stop her hearing the bell, in case it was urgent. (Nevile enters quickly L.)
NEVILE. Lazenby’s coming round right away.
AUDREY. (Crossing to the door L.) Oh, good. Before he gets here I’d better go and see about Camilla’s tea. She’ll be wondering what’s happened.
NEVILE. Can I help?
AUDREY. No, thank you. I can manage. (Audrey exits L. Kay rises and moves up R. of the chaise.)
ROYDE. (Moving to the chaise.) I wonder if it could be some kind of heart attack. (He sits on the chaise. Treves sits in the armchair L. C.)
NEVILE. (Crossing and standing on the right end of the rostrum.) It’s not much use conjecturing, is it? Lazenby’ll be able to tell us. Poor old Mary. I don’t know what will happen if she’s really ill.
TREVES. It would be disastrous. Lady Tressilian relies on Mary for everything.
KAY. (Moving to R. of Nevile, hopefully.) I suppose we should all have to pack up and go?
NEVILE. (Smiling at Kay.) Perhaps it isn’t anything serious after all. (Kay moves down R.)
ROYDE. Must be something pretty bad if she can’t be wakened.
TREVES. It can’t take Dr. Lazenby very long to get here, and then we shall know. He lives a very short distance away.
NEVILE. He ought to be here in about ten minutes, I should think.
TREVES. Possibly he will be able to relieve all our minds. I trust so.
NEVILE. (With a determinedly cheerful air.) No good looking on the black side of things, anyway.
KAY. (Moving to R. of the chaise.) Always the perfect optimist, aren’t you, Nevile?
NEVILE. Well, things usually work out all right.
ROYDE. They certainly do for you.
NEVILE. (Moving to L. of Royde.) I don’t quite know what you mean by that, Thomas.
ROYDE. (Rising.) I should have thought it was obvious.
NEVILE. What are you insinuating?
ROYDE. I’m not insinuating anything. I’m stating facts.
TREVES. (Rising.) Ssh! (He moves C. and hastily changes the subject.) Do you think—er—we ought to see if there is anything we could do to—er—help. Lady Tressilian might wish . . . (Royde crosses above the others and stands on the left end of the rostrum.)
NEVILE. If Camilla wants us to do anything she’ll soon say so. I wouldn’t interfere unless she does, if I were you. (Audrey is heard to scream off L. Royde exits hurriedly. There is a short pause. Audrey, supported by Royde, enters L. She looks almost dazed.)
AUDREY. Camilla—Camilla . . .
TREVES. (Concerned.) My dear! What’s the matter?
AUDREY. (In a husky whisper.) It’s—Camilla.
NEVILE. (Surprised.) Camilla? What’s wrong with her?
AUDREY. She’s—she’s dead.
KAY. (Sitting on the chaise.) Oh, no, no.
NEVILE. It must have been her heart.
AUDREY. No—it—it wasn’t her heart. (She presses her hands to her eyes. They all stare at her. She shouts.) There’s blood—all over her head. (She suddenly screams out hysterically.) She’s been murdered. Don’t you understand? She’s been murdered. (Audrey sinks into the easy chair down L. and the lights fade to Black-Out, as—the Curtain falls.)
CURTAIN
Scene II
SCENE—The same. Two hours later. The furniture has been moved to make the room more suitable for the police interrogations. The coffee table has been moved into the alcove R., and the chaise on to the rostrum. A card table has been placed R. C. with the upright chair from the alcove L. of it. The armchair L. C. is now above the card table and the easy chair down L. is now L. C. On the card table is a small tray with a jug of water and two glasses. Also on the card table are a box of cigarettes, an ashtray and a box of matches. A copy of “The Times” lies half open on the window-seat.
When the Curtain rises, Treves is standing L. of the card table, looking around the room. After a moment he moves up C. on the rostrum. Superintendent Battle enters L. He is a big man, aged about fifty, and is quietly dressed. His face is heavy but intelligent.
TREVES. Ah. Battle.
BATTLE. That’s fixed up, sir.
TREVES. It was all right, was it, Battle?
BATTLE. (Crossing to C.) Yes, sir. The Chief Constable got through to the Yard. As I happened to be on the spot they’ve agreed to let me handle the case. (He moves down R., turns and looks around the room.)
TREVES. (Moving down C.) I’m very glad. It’s going to make it easier having you instead of a stranger. Pity to have spoilt your holiday, though.
BATTLE. Oh, I don’t mind that, sir. I’ll be able to give my nephew a hand. It’ll be his first murder case, you see.
TREVES. (Moving to the bureau chair.) Yes, yes—I’ve no doubt he will find your experience of great help. (He moves the chair to R. of the card table.)
BATTLE. (Crossing to R. C.) It’s a nasty business.
TREVES. Shocking, shocking. (He crosses and stands below the easy chair L. C.)
BATTLE. I’ve seen the doctor. Two blows were struck. The first was sufficient to cause death. The murderer must have struck again to make sure, or in a blind rage.
TREVES. Horrible. (He sits in the easy chair L. C.) I can’t believe it could have been anyone in the house.
BATTLE. Afraid it was, sir. We’ve been into all that. No entry was forced. (He moves in the direction of the French windows.) All the doors and windows were fastened this morning as usual. And then there’s the drugging of Miss Aldin—that must have been an inside job.
TREVES. How is she?
BATTLE. Still sleeping it off, but she was given a pretty heavy dose. It looks like careful planning on somebody’s part. (He crosses to C.) Lady Tressilian might have pulled that bell which rings in Miss Aldin’s room, if she’d been alarmed. That had to be taken care of—so Miss Aldin was doped.
TREVES. (Troubled.) It still seems to me quite incredible.
BATTLE. We’ll get to the bottom of it, sir, in the end. (He moves to L. of the card table.) Death occurred, according to the doctor, between ten-thirty and midnight. Not earlier than ten-thirty, not later than midnight. That s
hould be a help. (He sits on the chair L. of the card table.)
TREVES. Yes, yes. And the weapon used was a niblick?
BATTLE. Yes, sir. Thrown down by the bed, blood-stained and with white hairs sticking to it. (Treves makes a gesture of repulsion.) I shouldn’t have deduced a niblick from the appearance of the wound, but apparently the sharp edge of the club didn’t touch the head. The doctor says it was the rounded part of the club hit her.
TREVES. The—er—murderer was incredibly stupid, don’t you think, to leave the weapon behind?
BATTLE. Probably lost his head. It happens.
TREVES. Possibly—yes, possibly. I suppose there are no fingerprints?
BATTLE. (Rising and moving up R. C.) Sergeant Pengelly is attending to that now, sir. I doubt if it’s going to be as easy as that. (Inspector Leach enters L. He is a youngish man, about thirty-eight to forty, thin and dark. He speaks with a slight Cornish accent. He carries a niblick golf club.)
LEACH. (Crossing above the easy chair L. C. to L. of Battle.) See here, Uncle. Pengelly has brought up a beautiful set of dabs on this—clear as day.
BATTLE. (Warningly.) Be careful how you go handling that, my boy.
LEACH. It’s all right, we’ve got photographs. Got specimens of the blood and hair, too. (He shows the club to Battle.) What do you think of these dabs? Clear as clear, aren’t they? (Battle inspects the fingerprints on the shaft of the club, then crosses to R. of Treves.)
BATTLE. They’re clear enough. What a fool! (He shows the club to Treves.)
LEACH. That’s so to be sure.
BATTLE. All we’ve got to do now, my lad, is ask everyone nicely and politely if we may take their fingerprints—no compulsion, of course. Everyone will say “yes”—and one of two things will happen. Either none of the prints will agree, or else . . .
LEACH. It’ll be in the bag, eh? (He crosses to the door L. Battle nods.)
TREVES. Doesn’t it strike you as extremely odd, Battle, that the—er—murderer should have been so foolish as to leave such a damning piece of evidence behind—actually on the scene of the crime?
BATTLE. I’ve known ’em do things equally foolish, sir. (He puts the club on the chaise.) Well, let’s get on with it. Where’s everybody?
LEACH. (Moving up L.) In the library. Pollock is going through all their rooms. Except Miss Aldin’s, of course. She’s still sleeping off the effects of that dope.
The Mousetrap and Other Plays Page 50