The Mousetrap and Other Plays

by Agatha Christie

  NEVILE. Go ahead. Ask me anything you wish.

  BATTLE. (Moving C.) You realize that anything you say will be taken down in writing and may subsequently be used in evidence in a court of law?

  NEVILE. Are you threatening me?

  BATTLE. No, no, Mr. Strange. Warning you.

  TREVES. (Moving below the easy chair L. C.) Superintendent Battle is obliged to conform to the regulations, Nevile. You need say nothing unless you wish to?

  NEVILE. Why shouldn’t I wish to?

  TREVES. It might be wiser not to.

  NEVILE. Nonsense! Go ahead, Superintendent. Ask me anything you like. (Treves makes a despairing gesture and sits in the easy chair L. C. Benson rises.)

  BATTLE. (Crossing below Nevile and standing down R.) Are you prepared to make a statement?

  NEVILE. If that’s what you call it. I’m afraid, though, I can’t help you very much.

  BATTLE. Will you begin by telling us exactly what you did last night? From dinner onwards? (He sits R. of the card table.)

  NEVILE. Let me see. Immediately after dinner I went up to my room and wrote a couple of letters—I’d been putting them off for a long time and I thought I might as well get them done. When I’d finished I came down here.

  BATTLE. What time would that be?

  NEVILE. I suppose it was about a quarter past nine. That’s as near as damnit, anyhow. (Battle helps himself to a cigarette.)

  BATTLE. (Offering the cigarettes to Nevile.) I’m so sorry.

  NEVILE. No, thank you.

  BATTLE. What did you do after that? (He lights his cigarette.)

  NEVILE. I talked to—to Kay, my wife, and Ted Latimer.

  BATTLE. Latimer—who’s he?

  NEVILE. A friend of ours who’s staying at the Easterhead Bay Hotel. He’d come over for dinner. He left soon after and everybody else went off to bed.

  BATTLE. Including your wife?

  NEVILE. Yes, she was feeling a bit off color.

  BATTLE. (Rising.) I understand there was some sort of—unpleasantness?

  NEVILE. Oh—(He looks at Treves.) you’ve heard about that, have you? It was purely a domestic quarrel. Can’t have anything to do with this horrible business.

  BATTLE. I see. (He crosses below the table and moves up C. After a pause.) After everybody else had gone to bed, what did you do then?

  NEVILE. I was a bit bored. It was still fairly early and I decided to go across to the Easterhead Bay Hotel.

  BATTLE. In the storm? It had broken by this time, surely?

  NEVILE. Yes, it had. But it didn’t worry me. I went upstairs to change . . .

  BATTLE. (Moving quickly to Nevile, breaking in quickly.) Change into what, Mr. Strange?

  NEVILE. I was wearing a dinner jacket. As I proposed to take the ferry across the river and it was raining pretty heavily, I changed. Into a grey pinstripe—(He pauses.) if it interests you.

  BATTLE. (After a pause.) Go on, Mr. Strange.

  NEVILE. (Showing signs of increasing nervousness.) I went up to change, as I said. I was passing Lady Tressilian’s door, which was ajar, when she called, “Is that you, Nevile?” and asked me to come in. I went in and—and we chatted for a bit.

  BATTLE. How long were you with her?

  NEVILE. About twenty minutes, I suppose. When I left her I went to my room, changed, and hurried off. I took the latchkey with me because I expected to be late.

  BATTLE. What time was it then?

  NEVILE. (Reflectively.) About half past ten, I should think, I just caught the ten-thirty-five ferry and went across to the Easterhead side of the river. I had a drink or two with Latimer at the hotel and watched the dancing. Then we had a game of billiards. In the end I found I’d missed the last ferry back. It goes at one-thirty. Latimer very decently got out his car and drove me home. It’s fifteen miles round by road, you know. (He pauses.) We left the hotel at two o’clock and reached here at half past. Latimer wouldn’t come in for a drink, so I let myself in and went straight up to bed. (Battle and Treves exchange looks.)

  BATTLE. (Crossing below Nevile to R. of the card table.) During your conversation with Lady Tressilian—was she quite normal in her manner? (He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray on the card table.)

  NEVILE. Oh, yes, quite.

  BATTLE. (Moving above the card table.) What did you talk about?

  NEVILE. This and that.

  BATTLE. (Moving behind Nevile.) Amiably?

  NEVILE. Of course.

  BATTLE. (Moving down L. C.; smoothly.) You didn’t have a violent quarrel?

  NEVILE. (Rising, angrily.) What the devil do you mean?

  BATTLE. You’d better tell the truth, Mr. Strange. I’ll warn you—you were overheard.

  NEVILE. (Crossing slowly below the card table to R. of it.) Well, we did have a difference of opinion. She—she disapproved of my behaviour over—over Kay and—and my first wife. I may have got a bit heated, but we parted on perfectly friendly terms. (He bangs his fist on the table. With a sudden burst of temper.) I didn’t bash her over the head because I lost my temper—if that’s what you think. (Battle moves to the chaise, picks up the niblick, then moves to L. of the card table.)

  BATTLE. Is this your property, Mr. Strange?

  NEVILE. (Looking at the niblick.) Yes. It’s one of Walter Hudson’s niblicks from St. Egbert’s.

  BATTLE. This is the weapon we think was used to kill Lady Tressilian. Have you any explanation for your fingerprints being on the grip?

  NEVILE. But—of course they would be—it’s my club. I’ve often handled it.

  BATTLE. Any explanation, I mean, for the fact that your fingerprints show that you were the last person to have handled it?

  NEVILE. That’s not true. It can’t be. Somebody could have handled it after me—someone wearing gloves.

  BATTLE. Nobody could have handled it in the sense you mean—by raising it to strike—without blurring your own marks.

  NEVILE. (Staring at the niblick in sudden realization.) It can’t be! (He sits R. of the card table and covers his face with his hands.) Oh, God! (After a pause he takes his hands away and looks up.) It isn’t that! It simply isn’t true. You think I killed her, but I didn’t. I swear I didn’t. There’s some horrible mistake. (Battle replaces the niblick on the chaise.)

  TREVES. (Rising and crossing to L. of the card table.) Can’t you think of any explanation to account for those fingerprints, Nevile? (Battle picks up the dinner jacket.)

  NEVILE. No—no—I can’t think—of anything. (Treves moves above the card table.)

  BATTLE. (Moving to L. of the card table.) Can you explain why the cuffs, and sleeve of this dinner jacket—your dinner jacket—are stained with blood?

  NEVILE. (In a horror-stricken whisper.) Blood? It couldn’t be.

  TREVES. You didn’t, for instance, cut yourself?

  NEVILE. (Rising and pushing his chair violently backwards.) No—no, of course I didn’t. It’s fantastic—simply fantastic. It’s none of it true.

  BATTLE. The facts are true enough, Mr. Strange.

  NEVILE. But why should I do such a dreadful thing? It’s unthinkable—unbelievable. I’ve known Lady Tressilian all my life. (He moves to R. of Treves.) Mr. Treves—you don’t believe it, do you? You don’t believe that I would do a thing like this? (Battle replaces the jacket on the chaise.)

  TREVES. No, Nevile, I can’t believe it.

  NEVILE. I didn’t. I swear I didn’t. What reason could I have . . . ?

  BATTLE. (Turning and standing on the rostrum.) I believe that you inherit a great deal of money on Lady Tressilian’s death, Mr. Strange.

  NEVILE. (Moving down R.) You mean—You think that . . . ? It’s ridiculous! I don’t need money. I’m quite well off. You’ve only to enquire at my bank . . . (Treves sits R. of the card table.)

  BATTLE. We shall check up on that. But there may be some reason why you suddenly require a large sum of money—some reason unknown to anyone except yourself.

  NEVILE. There’s nothing of t
he sort.

  BATTLE. As to that—we shall see.

  NEVILE. (Crossing slowly below the card table to R. of Battle.) Are you going to arrest me?

  BATTLE. Not yet—we propose to give you the benefit of the doubt.

  NEVILE. (Bitterly.) You mean that you’ve made up your mind I did it, but you want to be sure of my motive so as to clinch the case against me. (He moves above the armchair R. C.) That’s it, isn’t it? (He grips the back of the armchair.) My God! It’s like some awful dream. Like being caught in a trap and you can’t get out. (He pauses.) Do you want me any more now? I’d like to—to get out—by myself—and think over all this. It’s been rather a shock.

  BATTLE. We’ve finished with you for the present, sir.

  NEVILE. Thank you.

  BATTLE. (Moving down L. C.) Don’t go too far away, though, will you, sir?

  NEVILE. (Moving to the French windows.) You needn’t worry. I shan’t try and run away—if that’s what you mean. (He glances off R.) I see you’ve taken your precautions, anyway. (Nevile exits by the French windows. Benson sits on the window-seat.)

  LEACH. (Moving to L. of Battle.) He did it all right.

  BATTLE. (Moving C.) I don’t know, Jim. If you want the truth, I don’t like it. I don’t like any of it. There’s too much evidence against him. Besides, it doesn’t quite fit. Lady Tressilian calls him into the room, and he goes happening to have a niblick in his hand. Why?

  LEACH. So as to bash her over the head.

  BATTLE. Meaning it’s premeditated? All right, he’s drugged Miss Aldin. But he can’t count on her being asleep so soon. He couldn’t count on anybody being asleep so soon.

  LEACH. Well then, say he’s cleaning his clubs. Lady T calls him. They have a row—he loses his temper and bashes her with the club he just happens to be holding.

  BATTLE. That doesn’t account for the drugging of Mary Aldin. And she was drugged—the doctor says so. Of course—(Meditatively.) she could have drugged herself.

  LEACH. Why?

  BATTLE. (Moving to L. of the card table, to Treves.) Is there any possible motive in Miss Aldin’s case?

  TREVES. Lady Tressilian left her a legacy—not a very large one—a few hundreds a year. As I told you, Lady Tressilian had very little personal fortune.

  BATTLE. A few hundreds a year. (He sits L. of the card table.)

  TREVES. (Rising and moving down R.) I agree. An inadequate motive.

  BATTLE. (Sighing.) Well, let’s see the first wife. Jim, get Mrs. Audrey Strange. (Leach exits L.) There’s something peculiar about this business, sir. A mixture of cold premeditation and unpremeditated violence, and the two don’t mix.

  TREVES. Exactly, Battle. The drugging of Miss Aldin suggests premeditation . . .

  BATTLE. And the way the murder was carried out looks as though it was done in a fit of blind rage. Yes, sir. It’s all wrong.

  TREVES. Did you notice what he said—about a trap?

  BATTLE. (Thoughtfully.) “A trap.” (Leach enters L. and holds the door open. Audrey enters L. She is very pale but completely composed. Benson rises. Treves moves up R. Leach exits L. and closes the door.)

  AUDREY. (Crossing to C.) You wish to see me?

  BATTLE. (Rising.) Yes. (He indicates the chair L. of the card table.) Please sit down, Mrs. Strange. (Audrey crosses quickly to the chair L. of the card table and sits.) You’ve already told me how you came to make the discovery, so we needn’t go into that again.

  AUDREY. Thank you.

  BATTLE. (Moving down R.) I’m afraid, however, that I shall have to ask you several questions that you may find embarrassing. You are not compelled to answer them unless you like.

  AUDREY. I don’t mind. I only wish to help. (Treves moves slowly down L.)

  BATTLE. First of all, then, will you tell us what you did after dinner last night?

  AUDREY. I was on the terrace for some time talking to Mr. Treves. Then Miss Aldin came out to say that Lady Tressilian would like to see him in her room, and I came in here. I talked to Kay and Mr. Latimer and, later, to Mr. Royde and Nevile. Then I went up to bed.

  BATTLE. What time did you go to bed?

  AUDREY. I think it was about half past nine. I’m not sure of the time exactly. It may have been a little later.

  BATTLE. There was some sort of trouble between Mr. Strange and his wife, I believe. Were you mixed up in that?

  AUDREY. Nevile behaved very stupidly. I think he was rather excited and overwrought. I left them together and went to bed. I don’t know what happened after that, naturally. (Treves sits in the easy chair L. C.)

  BATTLE. Did you go to sleep at once?

  AUDREY. No. I was reading for some little while.

  BATTLE. (Moving on to the rostrum.) And you heard nothing unusual during the night?

  AUDREY. No, nothing. My room is on the floor above Cam—Lady Tressilian’s. I wouldn’t have heard anything.

  BATTLE. (Picking up the niblick.) I’m sorry, Mrs. Strange—(He moves to L. of Audrey and shows her the niblick.) we believe this was used to kill Lady Tressilian. It has been identified by Mr. Strange as his property. It also bears his fingerprints.

  AUDREY. (Drawing in her breath sharply.) Oh, you—you’re not suggesting that it was—Nevile . . .

  BATTLE. Would it surprise you?

  AUDREY. Very much. I’m sure you’re quite wrong, if you think so. Nevile would never do a thing like that. Besides, he had no reason.

  BATTLE. Not if he wanted money very urgently?

  AUDREY. He wouldn’t. He’s not an extravagant person—he never has been. You’re quite, quite wrong if you think it was Nevile.

  BATTLE. You don’t think he would be capable of violence in a fit of temper?

  AUDREY. Nevile? Oh, no!

  BATTLE. (Moving and replacing the niblick on the chaise.) I don’t want to pry into your private affairs, Mrs. Strange, but will you explain why you are here? (He moves to L. of Audrey.)

  AUDREY. (Surprised.) Why? I always come here at this time.

  BATTLE. But not at the same time as your ex-husband.

  AUDREY. He did ask me if I’d mind.

  BATTLE. It was his suggestion?

  AUDREY. Oh, yes.

  BATTLE. Not yours?

  AUDREY. No.

  BATTLE. But you agreed?

  AUDREY. Yes, I agreed—I didn’t feel that I could very well refuse.

  BATTLE. Why not? You must have realized that it might be embarrassing?

  AUDREY. Yes—I did realize that.

  BATTLE. You were the injured party?

  AUDREY. I beg your pardon?

  BATTLE. It was you who divorced your husband?

  AUDREY. Oh, I see—yes.

  BATTLE. Do you feel any animosity towards him, Mrs. Strange?

  AUDREY. No—none at all.

  BATTLE. You have a very forgiving nature. (Audrey does not reply. He crosses and stands down R.) Are you on friendly terms with the present Mrs. Strange?

  AUDREY. I don’t think she likes me very much.

  BATTLE. Do you like her?

  AUDREY. I really don’t know her.

  BATTLE. (Moving to R. of the card table.) You are quite sure it was not your idea—this meeting?

  AUDREY. Quite sure.

  BATTLE. I think that’s all, Mrs. Strange, thank you.

  AUDREY. (Rising, quietly.) Thank you. (She crosses to the door L. then hesitates, turns and moves L. C. Treves rises. Nervously and quickly.) I would just like to say—you think Nevile did this—that he killed her because of the money? I’m quite sure that isn’t so. Nevile never cared much about money. I do know that. I was married to him for several years, you see. It—it—isn’t Nevile. I know my saying this isn’t of any value as evidence—but I do wish you would believe it. (Audrey turns quickly and exits L. Benson sits on the window-seat.)

  BATTLE. (Moving R. C.) It’s difficult to know what to make of her, sir. I’ve never seen anyone so devoid of emotion.

  TREVES. (Moving L. C.) H’m. She didn’t show
any, Battle, but it’s there—some very strong emotion. I thought—but I may have been wrong . . . (Mary, assisted by Leach, enters L. Mary is wearing a dressing-gown. She sways a little. He moves to Mary.) Mary! (He leads her to the easy chair L. C. Mary sits in the easy chair L. C.)

  BATTLE. Miss Aldin! You shouldn’t . . .

  LEACH. She insisted on seeing you, Uncle. (He stands above the door L.)

  MARY. (Faintly.) I’m all right. I just feel—a little dizzy still. (Treves crosses to the card table and pours a glass of water.) I had to come. They told me something about your suspecting Nevile. Is that true? Do you suspect Nevile? (Treves crosses with the glass of water to R. of Mary.)

  BATTLE. (moving down R. C.) Who told you so?

  MARY. The cook. She brought me up some tea. She heard them talking in his room. And then—I came down—and I saw Audrey—and she said it was so. (She looks from one to the other.)

  BATTLE. (Moving down R.; evasively.) We are not contemplating an arrest—at this moment.

  MARY. But it can’t have been Nevile. I had to come and tell you. Whoever did it, it wasn’t Nevile. That I know.

  BATTLE. (Crossing to C.) How do you know?

  MARY. Because I saw her—Lady Tressilian—alive after Nevile had left the house.

  BATTLE. What?

  MARY. My bell rang, you see. I was terribly sleepy. I could only just get up. It was a minute or two before half past ten. As I came out of my room Nevile was in the hall below. I looked over the banisters and saw him. He went out of the front door and slammed it behind him. Then I went in to Lady Tressilian.

  BATTLE. And she was alive and well?

  MARY. Yes, of course. She seemed a little upset and said Nevile had shouted at her.

  BATTLE. (To Leach.) Get Mr. Strange. (Leach crosses and exits by the French windows. Mary takes the glass from Treves and sips the water. He sits on the chair L. of the card table.) What did Lady Tressilian say exactly?

  MARY. She said——(She thinks.) Oh, dear, what did she say? She said, “Did I ring for you? I can’t remember doing so. Nevile has behaved very badly—losing his temper—shouting at me. I feel most upset.” I gave her some aspirin and some hot milk from the thermos and she settled down. Then I went back to bed. I was desperately sleepy. Dr. Lazenby asked me if I’d taken any sleeping pills . . .