Plays 5

by Tom Stoppard

  Kerner No. An invisible man is also a correct solution.

  Blair You chaps.

  Kerner Mathematics does not take pictures of the world, it’s only a way of making sense. Twins, waves, black holes – we make bets on what makes best sense. In Athens, in Paris and at the Pool, two Ridleys satisfy the conditions. He was his own alibi. So we’re betting on twins. But we need to be lucky also, and today is Friday; is it the thirteenth?

  Blair You chaps don’t believe in that.

  Kerner Oh, we chaps! Niels Bohr lived in a house with a horseshoe on the wall. When people cried, for God’s sake Niels, surely you don’t believe a horseshoe brings you luck!, he said, no, of course not, but I’m told it works even if you don’t believe it.

  Blair continues to look grave.

  What is the matter, Paul?

  Blair Those photographs. Think of Ridley sitting there. He’s been sending film to Moscow and now here are these prints, spread out on the table, courtesy of the Washington pouch. Awkward moment for him. And yet, suddenly he’s in the clear. Kerner owns up. Well, we can’t have Ridley sitting there wondering why you’re owning up to his pictures. Ridley knew this wasn’t his batch, because he photographed his pages flat, separately; they weren’t pinned together by the corners and turned over. And those figures peeping out underneath, the whatsit production in the cyclone-whatever, they were nothing to do with him.

  Kerner I assumed naturally they were not Ridley’s pictures.

  Blair Did you? I wish you’d said so. I wish you’d said, ‘Paul where did you get that photo?’ … because you see, those cycleclip numbers were pulled together from different sets, the way somebody might do it at the Moscow end, and it really upsets me, Joseph, that you weren’t … I don’t know … surprised.

  Kerner Cyclotron, Paul. It’s a sensible word. Cycleclip is bizarre by comparison. (Pause.) Poor Paul. Everybody is a suspect. (reminded) Explain something to me. I forgot to ask Elizabeth. Prime suspect: it’s in nearly all the books. I don’t understand. A prime is a number which won’t divide nicely, and all the suspects are prime. It’s the last thing to expect with a suspect. You must look for squares. The product of twin roots. Four, nine, sixteen … what is the square root of sixteen?

  Blair Is this a trick question?

  Kerner For you, probably.

  Blair Four, then.

  Kerner Correct. But also minus four. Two correct answers. Positive and negative. (Pause.) I’m not going to help you, you know. Yes – no, either – or … You have been too long in the spy business, you think everybody has no secret or one big secret, they are what they seem or they are the opposite. You look at me and think: Which is he? Plus or minus? If only you could figure it out like looking into me to find my root. And then you still wouldn’t know. We’re all doubles. Even you. Your cover is Bachelor of Arts first class, with an amusing incomprehension of the sciences, but you insist on laboratory standards for reality, while I insist on its artfulness. So it is with us all, we’re not so one-or-the-other. The one who puts on the clothes in the morning is the working majority, but at night – perhaps in the moment before unconsciousness – we meet our sleeper – the priest is visited by the doubter, the Marxist sees the civilizing force of the bourgeoise, the captain of industry admits the justice of common ownership.

  Blair And you – what do you admit?

  Kerner My estrangement.

  Blair I’m sorry.

  Kerner I’m thinking of going home, perhaps you know.

  Blair No, I didn’t.

  Kerner Ah, well.

  Blair It may be tricky for you.

  Kerner Do you mean leaving or arriving?

  Blair That’s roughly what I’m asking you?

  Kerner Of course. Dog or dog-catcher. I forget. It’s true that when the KGB came to me in Kaliningrad I had already thought of coming West, but to be honest the system I hated was the vacuum tube logic system. We were using computers which you had in museums. I wasn’t seeking asylum, I was seeking an IBM 195.

  Blair No. They put you up to it and Elizabeth turned you. You were her joe.

  Kerner Yes, I was. There is something terrible about love. It uses up all one’s moral judgement. Afterwards it is like returning to a system of values, or at least to the attempt.

  Blair (angrily) Yes, values. It’s not all bloody computers, is it?

  Kerner No. The West is morally superior, in my opinion. It is unjust and corrupt like the East, of course, but here it means the system has failed; at home it means the system is working. But the system can change.

  Blair No, it can’t. Come on, Joseph, you know them – Budapest in ’56 – Prague in ’68 – Poland in ’81 – we’ve been there! – and it’s not going to be different in East Berlin in ’89. They can’t afford to lose.

  Kerner (shrugs) It’s not my job to change it. My friend Georgi has offered to arrange things if I want to go.

  Blair Why are you telling me?

  Kerner I declined his offer.

  Blair I’m glad, Joseph.

  Kerner I prefer British Airways.

  Pause.

  Blair You should have accepted.

  Kerner (angrily) Oh, yes! – You don’t want to look, and then you’ll get spy pattern.

  Blair I like to know what’s what.

  Kerner Of course! Yes – no, either – or.

  Blair That’s right. You’re this or you’re that, and you know which. Prophecy is a pastime I can’t afford, I’ve got one of my people working the inside lane on false papers and if she’s been set up I’ll feed you to the crocodiles.

  Kerner One of your people? Oh, Paul. You would betray her before I would. My mamushka.

  Blair Good. Good, Joseph. (He seems pleased by the way that went.) Now. Is the sister thing going to work?

  Kerner Oh, yes. I was afraid of it, but with Mr Ridley it will be all right. (He starts to leave, pause.) I never saw Elizabeth sleeping. Interrogation hours, you know. She said, ‘I want to sleep with you.’ But she never did. And when I learned to read English books I realized that she never said it, either. (He walks away.)

  SCENE FOUR

  Hapgood’s office. It’s empty.

  The door is opened with a key from the outside. Ridley enters the office.

  Ridley (addressing Hapgood outside) Move.

  Hapgood enters behind him. She is wearing the clothes which he brought to the flat.

  Ridley closes the door. Hapgood looks around.

  Ridley has a bag, perhaps a sports holdall.

  Sit there.

  Ridley does everything smoothly and quickly. He riffles through a stack of printed documents (technical magazines perhaps) on the desk and extracts a sealed envelope, which he tears open. It contains a small key and a scribble.

  Hapgood What if somebody comes in?

  Ridley It’s your office, for God’s sake. (He gives her the key.) Middle drawer.

  Hapgood uses the key to open the middle drawer of the desk.

  Remote key.

  Hapgood This?

  She shows him the electronic key for the safe. Ridley takes it. He consults the scribble, programmes the key, opens the safe. From the safe he takes a disc-box – a new one, i.e. a sealed once-only box of the same type. He closes the safe. He puts the disc-box into his bag, together with the torn envelope and the scribble. During this:

  Are you going to tell me what I’m doing here?

  Ridley Sure. Any phone that rings, don’t pick it up. I’ll pick it up.

  He picks up the red telephone, looks at its underneath, puts it down again; from the bag he takes a simple ‘eavesdrop’ connection, a single ear-piece ready to be wired up into a telephone receiver; and a screwdriver.

  At that moment, the door opens and Maggs walks in, with a file, much as yesterday.

  Maggs Good afternoon Mrs Hapgood, you came in after all. Do you want to see the decrypts?

  Hapgood looks at Ridley.

  Ridley Hello, Maggs … aren’t you supposed to be having
lunch?

  Maggs Yes, sir.

  Ridley Well, piss off then. Go to the pub.

  Maggs I was in the pub. (to Hapgood) I got the desk to bleep me if you came in – just the top one, really, it’s green-routed and Sydney’s been on twice this morning.

  Hapgood Has he?

  Maggs Sydney – they only want a yes or no.

  Ridley Let them wait.

  Hapgood No, I can do that.

  Ridley Are you sure, Mother?

  Hapgood What’s the matter with you today, Ridley? (She takes the ‘top one’ from Maggs and peruses it with interest.) Mm …

  Ridley Perhaps you’d like me to …

  Hapgood Fascinating.

  Maggs Just a yes or no.

  Hapgood Yes! Definitely yes! (She passes the paper smartly back to Maggs.) Thank you, Maggs. I’ll do the rest later.

  Maggs McPherson came in if you want it.

  Hapgood Really?

  Ridley It’s five minutes to two, Mother.

  Hapgood I want to know about McPherson.

  Maggs Bishop to queen two.

  Pause.

  Hapgood Right.

  Ridley Mother.

  The red phone rings. Maggs lifts it up.

  Maggs (to phone) Mrs Hapgood’s office … just a moment. (He gives the phone to Hapgood and leaves.)

  Ridley Shit!

  Hapgood What do I do?

  Ridley Talk!

  Ridley has two desperate concerns: to wire up his ‘eavesdrop’ and to prompt Hapgood. But it’s hopeless, a mess.

  Hapgood (to phone) Hello … yes, it’s her, it’s me …

  Ridley ‘I want to talk to Joe’ … ‘I want to talk to Joe!’

  Hapgood (covering the phone) I can’t hear! (into phone) Yes … Eleven thirty … (to Ridley) Someone wants a meeting.

  Ridley Where? Keep them talking, ask for Joe …

  Hapgood Yes … Where? … Right …

  Ridley is nowhere near ready when she puts the phone down.

  Ridley I’ll kill you for this! – Eleven thirty where? Where?

  Hapgood is still contemplating the phone warily.

  Hapgood Ten Downing Street.

  Ridley What? Oh, Jesus!

  Hapgood Was that it?

  Ridley No. I thought they were early.

  Hapgood Who’s Joe?

  Ridley ignores her, he works on the red phone.

  Listen, I can’t do this if you don’t tell me what I’m doing.

  Ridley I’ll tell you when it’s time to tell you. God almighty … I ought to slap you bow-legged.

  Hapgood You don’t mean Betty’s Joe, do you? Ernie?

  Ridley Ridley.

  Hapgood Ridley. What’s the silly cow been up to?

  Ridley Don’t you like her?

  Hapgood Of course I like her, she’s my sister.

  Ridley completes his work, and pauses to consider her. He’s unsettled, somehow thrown by seeing her in this office, in these clothes … She is so obviously Hapgood.

  Ridley Mrs Newton. What happened to him? You’re divorced?

  Hapgood I’ll say. Bastard owes me thousands. Actually it was Mr Newton who did for Betty and me. She said he’d go bad, warned me off, sister to sister. So I crossed her off my list and married him. Then he went bad. So of course I never forgave her.

  Do you mean she plays chess without a board?

  Ridley Looks like it.

  Hapgood That sounds like her.

  Ridley She’s something.

  Hapgood Showing off, I meant.

  Ridley Why aren’t you close?

  Hapgood Well, she was always the scholarship girl and I was the delinquent. Having the kid was good for her, she always thought the delinquents had the bastards and the scholarship girls had the wedding. It shook up her view of the world, slightly. Do you mind if I light up?

  Ridley She doesn’t smoke.

  Hapgood It’s all right, it’s not a real cigarette.

  She puts a home-made cigarette in her mouth; Ridley snatches it away and keeps it.

  Ridley For God’s sake, don’t you know where you are?

  Hapgood So what do we do now?

  Ridley (looking at his watch) We wait. (He leans over to reach the buttons on Hapgood’s desk.) When I do this, (He snaps his fingers.) you say, ‘No calls, Maggs, no interruptions.’ (He snaps his fingers.)

  Hapgood No calls, Maggs, no interruptions.

  Maggs’s Voice Yes, ma’am.

  Satisfied for the moment, but nervy, Ridley paces.

  Hapgood He probably thinks …

  Ridley Yeh, nice thought.

  Hapgood Speak for yourself.

  Ridley I was.

  Hapgood Don’t fancy your fuckin’ chances.

  Pacing, Ridley, as though absentmindedly, takes the bundle of money out of his pocket, detaches a £50 note and sets fire to it with his lighter. He carries on pacing, she carries on looking at him.

  Sit down, for God’s sake.

  Ridley sits at the table.

  Ten of hearts.

  Ridley What about it?

  Hapgood Ten of hearts – now you.

  Ridley sighs.

  Ridley King of hearts.

  Hapgood Two of clubs.

  Ridley Well, what are we playing?

  Hapgood Go on.

  Ridley Ace of spades.

  Hapgood Seven of diamonds.

  Ridley Haven’t you got any spades?

  Hapgood Play your cards.

  Ridley Six of hearts.

  Hapgood Two of hearts.

  Ridley This is stupid. Nine of clubs.

  Hapgood Jack of clubs.

  Ridley Jack of spades.

  Hapgood Snap!! Bad luck …

  Ridley jumps irritatedly to his feet, and then the red phone rings.

  Ridley Leave it!

  Listen – Betty’s Joe has been kidnapped – this is the people who took him.

  He takes her left hand, calmly, lays it palm-down on the desk, and using his own hand as a blade he chops her hand across the knuckles, with coolly judged force, enough to make her cry out with pain.

  You want to talk to Joe – where’s Joe, where’s Joe?

  He lifts the red phone now and puts it into her right hand, meanwhile putting the extra earpiece in his ear. Hapgood is whimpering and disoriented.

  Hapgood (into phone) Hello, where’s Joe, I want to talk to Joe – I – Yes – yes – yes – Yes. I heard – can I talk to –

  Ridley relaxes. He takes the phone from her gently and replaces it. The phone call has taken perhaps fifteen seconds. Hapgood springs away from the desk, from him, crying, comforting her injured hand.

  Ridley You were very good!

  Hapgood You bloody maniac!

  Ridley is disconnecting his eavesdrop, replacing everything into his bag.

  Where’s Betty? – is it true about Joe?

  Ridley Yes, it’s true. But we’ll get him back. Eight hours to kill.

  Ridley retrieves her cigarette from his pocket, lights it and puts it in her mouth.

  Hapgood draws on the cigarette, still shocked, trembling, settling down.

  You were fine. We can go now. Me first. Count twelve and I’ll see you outside. (He picks up his bag. Carefully he takes away her cigarette, takes a drag himself, and keeps the cigarette. He opens the door.) Welcome to the firm.

  Ridley leaves. Left alone, Hapgood relaxes, although her hand is still painful. Maggs enters, anxious.

  Maggs Is everything all right, Mrs Hapgood?

  Hapgood Yes, Maggs – everything’s fine. (She heads through the open door.) Queen to king one.

  Maggs (following her out) Queen to king one.

  SCENE FIVE

  A cheap hotel room. It is evening; dark. Perhaps a neon sign outside. Hapgood, fully dressed, has gone to sleep on the bed. Ridley stands watching her. Perhaps he is changing into the clothes which he will wear in the next scene. Ridley takes out his radio.

  Ridley (to radio) Mother.

  No
answer.

  (To radio) Mother.

  No answer.

  (Louder to radio) Mother – where the hell are you!

  Hapgood, on the bed, has stirred awake.

  Hapgood How much longer?

  Ridley A couple of hours. (He puts his radio away and takes his gun out of his holster and checks it.)

  Hapgood Ernest … I hardly dare ask you this, but is your mother in the secret service too?

  Ridley ignores that. He puts his gun back into the holster.

  What’s that for, Ernie?

  Ridley It’s for killing people. It’s a gun.

  Hapgood Do you kill people, Ernie?

  Ridley You’ll be the second.

  Hapgood I don’t like this.

  Ridley Me neither. Somebody’s lying to somebody. They’re lying to her or she’s lying to me.

  Hapgood Would she lie to you, Ernie?

  Ridley Telling lies is Betty’s habit, sweetheart – lies, fraud, entrapment, blackmail, sometimes people die, so Betty can know something which the opposition thinks she doesn’t know, most of which doesn’t matter a fuck, and that’s just the half they didn’t plant on her – so she’s lucky if she comes out better than even, that’s the edge she’s in it for, and if she’s thinking now it wasn’t worth one sleepless night for her little prep-school boy, good for her, she had it coming.

  Hapgood Maybe she did.

  Ridley She should have given him a daddy instead of getting her buzz out of running joes to please an old bastard who … (A thought strikes him, strikes him as funny.) who’s been running her for years!

  Hapgood What do you mean, Ernest?

  Ridley Your sister carries a torch. When it came to a choice she traded in a daddy for a joe who would have been blown overnight if he was known to be the father.

  Hapgood Talk English!

  Ridley I’ll get her kid back for her but it’s only personal. If she’s set me up I’ll kill her.

  Hapgood You’re potty about her, Ernest. I’m disappointed in you. You don’t know if you’re carrying a torch for her or a gun, no wonder you’re confused. You’re out on a limb for a boy she put there, while she was making the world safe for him to talk properly in and play the game. What a pal, I should have a friend like you.