by Ian Shimwell
TRENCH: Now, you’re being silly. But where does our long, coated stranger fit into all this, assuming they’re one and the same person?
(The office door is brushed open.)
EDITOR LAW: Now, what has a stranger got to do with the traffic report that you should be working on?
DEBSY: Editor Law, we didn’t know you were in.
EDITOR LAW: Evidently not.
TRENCH: We err were talking about the traffic story actually.
EDITOR LAW: This should be good. I can’t wait to hear this one.
TRENCH: Err, long coated stranger is just a term for…
DEBSY: …everyman, Joe Blogs – the general public.
TRENCH: Thanks Debs, I mean to gauge a more complete reaction to the new roads we asked shorter questions to as many people as possible.
EDITOR LAW: (Says doubtfully:) Really? (Then says with the usual edge to his voice:) In that case, you won’t mind leaving the finished article on my desk five minutes ago.
TRENCH: Of course, sir.
DEBSY: Consider it done.
EDITOR LAW: Oh I do, Deborah – I do. You know where to find me.
(EDITOR LAW leaves the office. DEBSY starts typing again.)
DEBSY: I’ve nearly finished the flaming thing anyway.
TRENCH: Good girl.
DEBSY: Honestly, sir’s only interested in the one-way system because it delays him on the way to work.
(DEBSY suddenly stops typing.)
DEBSY: Don’t look out of the window, Trench. Too late, you’ve looked out of the window.
TRENCH: The man in black is staring at us again…
DEBSY: Shall we accept the invitation and follow?
TRENCH: You betcha.
(They get up to leave hastily.)
DEBSY: Oh, I nearly forgot.
(DEBSY presses a button loudly on her computer.)
DEBSY: There, I’ve sent old fossil features his precious report.
TRENCH: That’s cruel. You know how he hates the email system. Come on, though – let’s catch a man!
DEBSY: Trenny – have I ever said, I’m starting to get worried about you?
(Whimsical music changes the scene.)
(TRENCH and DEBSY suddenly stop running and are initially out of breath.)
DEBSY: We’ve lost him!
TRENCH: Yes… but look who’s once again at the scene of the disappearance of the long-coated one.
DEBSY: I can’t see anyone – apart from a scattering of posh houses.
TRENCH: Look at that car – don’t you remember spending half of last night in it?
DEBSY: Rhet and Sade – shall we say hello?
TRENCH: It would be rude not to.
(TRENCH and DEBSY walk towards the car and open a door.)
RHET: Trench and the delectable Debsy – a most unexpected pleasure.
TRENCH: Quite a remarkable coincidence, I’d say.
SADE: Would you two mind climbing inside – we are supposed to be working undercover here.
RHET: And besides, it is rather drafty.
DEBSY: Of course, sor-ry.
(They climb inside the car and close the door.)
(SADE suddenly screams.)
DEBSY: Sorry, Sade – I’m pretty sure I’m not that ugly.
SADE: I… I saw a dog.
TRENCH: Oh, that white snowy one on the pavement.
RHET: Well, it’s all right – it’s gone now.
TRENCH: You will never believe this, Rhet.
RHET: Try me.
TRENCH: But, for the second time in two days, we were following a hooded stranger – he vanishes and you appear. How would you explain that?
RHET: Oh, I rather completely and utterly agree on that one, Trench.
TRENCH: You do?
RHET: A remarkable coincidence – but a coincidence all the same.
DEBSY: Did you, at least, see the man – err or woman, I suppose?
SADE: If we had dreary – I mean dearie, we would have already mentioned it, would we not?
DEBSY: (Says annoyed:) Unless you’re trying to hide something.
SADE: (Says with ridicule:) What could we possibly hide in a small car like this?
DEBSY: You have a big bum – sorry I mean boot, don’t you Sade?
SADE: This is ridiculous – but look into it if you must. The boot isn’t locked.
TRENCH: That won’t be necessary – will it Debsy?
DEBSY: Err, no – I suppose not.
TRENCH: Well, we’re obviously observing a completely different house in another area, so what’s the case this time?
RHET: You must understand that, as a rule, we can work on several different, unrelated cases at the same time.
TRENCH: Yes, I am quite capable of understanding that.
RHET: Only that this case is different, yet the same.
SADE: Or should we say the similarities are bordering on irony?
DEBSY: Yes, as far as I’m concerned – say it!
RHET: All right, Debsy I will. This time it’s the wife, a Mrs Rodiel, who suspects the husband of having an affair – an afternoon one at that.
SADE: He works from home and is accused of doing the dirty, so to speak, when wife goes to her afternoon classes.
RHET: Only that we’ve never seen him leave the home. And when we do go to check…
SADE: …the home is empty – as per the other case.
DEBSY: Let me guess the rest – when she returns, he is back to greet her?
SADE: Yes.
TRENCH: How…
RHET: …amusing?
TRENCH: I was going to say, strange. But I wonder if she has seen our secretive stalker lurking in her garden too..?
SADE: There she is, Rhet. She’s coming home early, maybe to catch him out.
RHET: So Trench then, perhaps we are about to find out…
(Curious music changes the scene.)
(The silence in TRENCH and DEBSY’s office is only punctuated by the odd press of the keyboard.)
DEBSY: Trench, you look in pain.
TRENCH: I’m thinking…
DEBSY: That’ll explain it – you’re not used to it.
TRENCH: Watch it… or I’ll feed you to Editor Law or something.
DEBSY: Yikes!
TRENCH: Come on, Debs – let’s go.
DEBSY: Never mind feeding me to Editor Law, he’ll have you for breakfast if he finds out we’ve bunked off early.
TRENCH: Yes, well our esteemed leader has already finished early for a supposed business meeting – which probably means he’s bunked off to be in a bunker somewhere.
DEBSY: That’s all very well – but what’s the point anyway? Our mysterious, cloaked stranger is not watching us at the moment – actually I feel rather abandoned – so, what’s the rush?
TRENCH: We seem to be starting to go round in circles with this mystery stroke case, whatever it is. Let’s do something different to penetrate inside the circle…
DEBSY: Such as..?
TRENCH: Let us follow someone for a change. The wife, a Mrs Rodiel should still be at her afternoon class. Rhet gave me the location, so shall we see if we can catch her?
DEBSY: You betcha, come on – what are you waiting for?
TRENCH: You!
(Music evoking ‘following’ changes the scene.)
(Suddenly we hear high-tempo dance music of the type that is usually played in an aerobic/dance class.)
MRS RODIEL: Come on girls – five, six, seven, eight. Ellie, get those thighs up.
TRENCH: (Who speaks loudly above the music:) They’re tiring me out just looking at them. Debsy, I said –
DEBSY: (Who speaks loudly too.) It’s all right. (The music suddenly cuts off.) I can hear you, Trench. (Then says normally but slightly embarrassed:) Sorry, I-thought-the-music-was-still-on.
TRENCH: Good one Debs.
MRS RODIEL: That’s it for today girls – see you at the same time tomorrow, when we’ll step up a gear.
(There is the usual post-class ch
atter – and the girls gather their belongings and begin to leave.)
MRS RODIEL: Well, what do you two want? Men aren’t usually allowed in here to ogle the girls – kind of puts them off.
TRENCH: I assure you I was not ogling!
DEBSY: Mrs Rodiel, I presume.
MRS RODIEL: Err, yes…
DEBSY: We are from the Stoke –
TRENCH: – no, that is we’ve stopped here ‘cause we are currently helping the Dragon Detective Agency with your case.
MRS RODIEL: If that is the case – then why aren’t you watching my husband? He’s the one misbehaving – not me.
DEBSY: We have come to double-check a, shall we say, side-concern. Rhet, my err boss said that you haven’t seen a black-cloaked stranger near your home.
MRS RODIEL: That is correct.
DEBSY: Try to think if you have seen this long-coated hooded man – probably, anywhere. It would really help us…
MRS RODIEL: All right, I’m trying. Though I don’t see what it has got to do with my spouse playing away from home… No, I’m sorry, I can’t think of anyone… wait.
TRENCH: Yes, Mrs Rodiel..?
MRS RODIEL: Come to think of it, the person who sometimes picks Ellie up may fit that description – but I’ve only seen him from a distance, so I’m not so sure.
DEBSY: Well, thank-you for your time.
MRS RODIEL: And have you found out what Mr Rodiel is up to while I’m here, yet?
TRENCH: No, but we have our best man…
DEBSY: …and best woman on the job.
TRENCH: So, we expect a breakthrough very soon… fingers crossed.
(Thoughtful music changes the scene.)
(TRENCH and DEBSY are sat in DEBSY’s car.)
DEBSY: It’s getting cold – shall I turn the ignition on?
TRENCH: Oh yes please – but remember you’ll still be using petrol up.
DEBSY: In that case, we’ll freeze.
TRENCH: Debsy – turn the ignition on now.
DEBSY: No, I’ve told you – I’m not wasting petrol on my poor assistant reporter’s salary.
TRENCH: Look, will you – Ellie has just left the fitness club.
DEBSY: Oh, see what you mean.
(DEBSY turns the ignition on, but it splutters.)
TRENCH: Come on – hurry up. She’s just climbed into a car… with our dark and mysterious stranger – I think.
DEBSY: Don’t let me down now, old girl.
TRENCH: Careful you don’t flood the engine.
DEBSY: I’m trying my best!
TRENCH: They’re going – we’ll lose them.
(Finally, the engine kicks into life.)
DEBSY: Good girl – I never doubted you for a second!
TRENCH: Yeah, right.
(The car drives off in hot pursuit.)
TRENCH: Don’t drive too close, Debs – they might notice us.
DEBSY: I hadn’t thought of that, Trenny – thanks.
TRENCH: But not too far back or we may lose our prey.
DEBSY: Do you want to drive?
TRENCH: No, you’re doing just fine – just concentrate.
DEBSY: I will if you stop interfering…
TRENCH: And let’s see where the trail leads…
(Searching music shifts a scene gear.)
OLD TOM: So, you didn’t lose them – and they were not aware you were following..? What happened next?
TRENCH: They stopped at a hotel – our black-clad friend got out of the car and Ellie drove off.
OLD TOM: Did you see who he/she/it was?
TRENCH: No, the hood hid his face. Debsy stalled the car again, so we couldn’t go any nearer.
OLD TOM: Ever tried walking, young man?
TRENCH: We were about to – but something stopped us.
OLD TOM: Prey what?
TRENCH: We – I had our first full-length view of the stranger at reasonably close quarters, although his identity was still in the shadows.
OLD TOM: You said something stopped you – what?
TRENCH: His coat – his long, black coat. There was something vaguely familiar about it – but I just couldn’t think what… When we did get out of the car, he’d predictably vanished.
OLD TOM: Never mind for now – and think about the coat later. What was the name of the hotel?
TRENCH: The Concentric Hotel.
OLD TOM: Concentric? Another strange name in a case full of them. Rhet, Sade, Rodiel – even Ellie rings a very distant bell.
TRENCH: A connection with Old Days?
OLD TOM: Possibly, but the link is still too tenuous. My observational deductive process will not allow me to make the connection just yet…
TRENCH: I see – no I don’t, but I’ll pretend anyway.
OLD TOM: I think the tea should be brewed by now – if we leave it any longer there is a danger of it becoming stewed. And that is one thing I cannot abide – stewed tea.
TRENCH: So..?
OLD TOM: So, do the honours – and pour the tea, Trench.
TRENCH: Seeing as you asked nicely.
(TRENCH pours the tea.)
OLD TOM: I applaud your lateral thinking, by the way, Trench.
TRENCH: You do?
OLD TOM: Chasing a side-lead instead of running around in circles.
TRENCH: Mrs Rodiel at her fitness club?
OLD TOM: Yes, but next time I think you should follow more traditional leads.
TRENCH: Ellie might prove difficult – she didn’t appear at her class the next day – and left no contact address. I short, she’s disappeared off the face of the Earth.
OLD TOM: A pity, but I was thinking more of Rhet – keep a close eye on him. And the Concentric Hotel must be worth another visit. Concentric, of course – I’ve just realised. Concentric is a type of castle – a very difficult one to penetrate. I wonder..?
TRENCH: All of a sudden, Old Tom – you have that ‘Old Days’ look about you again.
OLD TOM: (Says fearfully:) If I’m right we will discover that, behind all this, is a castle. Like the storm clouds above us, a very, very dark one…
(A longer piece of mystery music indicates the end of Act Two.)
Act Three
(Almost out of breath, TRENCH and DEBSY suddenly stop running.)
DEBSY: We’ve lost the long-frocked one… again.
TRENCH: Yes. (He takes a deep breath.) But, oddly enough, we are in the vicinity of the Dragon Detective Agency.
DEBSY: Now, is that significant – or completely insignificant?
TRENCH: I suggest we pay them a visit and decide for ourselves. Coming Debsy?
DEBSY: Only if I can hold your hand…
(There is a brief interlude of music which passes a few minutes of time.)
(RHET opens his office door.)
RHET: Trench and the delightful Debsy. For what do we owe this pleasure?
DEBSY: I think I preferred ‘delectable’.
TRENCH: We were just… err in the area – and thought it was an ideal opportunity to catch up with any developments in the case we, kind of, helped with.
SADE: How… amusing.
TRENCH: The sexy Sade – you don’t mind, do you?
SADE: At least, not from you, Trench.
RHET: I’m awfully sorry to disappoint you two thoroughly good chaps but… Now, where was I? Sometimes it’s damned difficult to…
TRENCH: …to Concentric..?
RHET: Concentrate is the word I was looking for. Interesting choice of word, though Trench.
DEBSY: Have I lost the plot or something?
SADE: Most likely.
RHET: Apologies. As I was saying, there are no developments in the evening missing wife case – and also the absent day husband.
DEBSY: Perhaps they’re seeing each other!
RHET: (Who laughs sardonically.) An amusing notion, I profess not to have considered yet.
TRENCH: Then consider yourself lucky.
DEBSY: Yes, Oliver.
TRENCH: The Dragon Detective
Agency could help us, if you like.
RHET: Return the favour?
SADE: I’m game.
DEBSY: I bet you are.
RHET: Prey what would you like our assistance with? He says, intrigued.
TRENCH: We have reason to believe that our furtive follower may be connected to the Concentric Hotel.
RHET: That word again.
DEBSY: Fancy coming with us to have a poke around?
RHET: Crudely put, my dear – but yes, why not?
SADE: Why indeed..?
(Curious music ends this scene.)
(The car stops, the engine is switched off and all the doors are opened – and then firmly closed.)
RHET: So, this the famous Concentric Hotel?
TRENCH: Yes, Rhet – but that’s funny, last time the car park was almost overflowing and now…
RHET: …it’s empty. Beautiful oak panelled double-doors, very old – probably antique.
DEBSY: Shall we enter or what? Sade, you go first – age before beauty.
SADE: Thank-you, dreary Debsy.
(SADE pushes the oak doors open. They all enter – and gasp in surprise.)
DEBSY: What the..?
TRENCH: It’s completely gutted out, must have been a terrible fire…
RHET: Only the outer-façade remains standing of a once proud, grand hotel.
DEBSY: Trench, we saw cars here the other day – could the fire have been recent?
TRENCH: Err, I don’t think so Debsy.
RHET: (Who examines the burnt timbers.) The texture of these burnt timbers indicates that the rampant flames ruined this establishment many years ago. Perhaps even fifty years or more…
SADE: Well, I’m certainly not staying here now.
THE CONCIERGE: What is wrong madam? Are you too good for my hotel?
SADE: Who, who are you?
THE CONCIERGE: The Concierge, at your service.
TRENCH: Concierge?
THE CONCIERGE: Well, more of a caretaker really – but I like to keep up appearances.
DEBSY: I’ll say you do. You’re dressed up in your full uniform – brass buttons and all!
THE CONCIERGE: It makes me feel good, Miss; helps to relieve the boredom – and provides potential buyers with a good impression – which I assume you good people are.
TRENCH: Err, yes.
DEBSY: Err, Mr Concierge, can you explain why the car park was full only a couple of days ago?
THE CONCIERGE: No, Miss – I cannot explain. I only concern myself with the inside of the hotel – not the outside.