by Ian Shimwell
OLD TOM: I am listening, in fact you have my undivided attention…
TRENCH: Not only does Devlin’s family originate from Germany, but they changed their name when they moved here after the war.
OLD TOM: From what?
TRENCH: From Todt to Devlin. And Devlin’s grandfather was Fritz Todt, a senior SS guard at a concentration camp, well known for his intense dislike of the Jews…
OLD TOM: Very interesting…
TRENCH: Well, don’t you see, old timer – it all fits into place, and provides Devlin with a powerful motive for his actions.
OLD TOM: Admirable deductions, Trench – but I think you need to re-examine the evidence.
TRENCH: Do I?
OLD TOM: Think about the spindles; the electrical connection; the cuckoo – and an aching longing that has caused one of the basic and simplest motives of all…
TRENCH: I’m thinking…
OLD TOM: Come on, think Trench, think.
TRENCH: Yes, of course – this is one deduction that saddens even me…
OLD TOM: Then perhaps you should do something about it – before things really start to get out of hand…
(Puzzling, but faster paced music changes scene.)
DEBSY: They’re here.
DEVLIN: What is the meaning of this, Trench?
BRIDGES: Yes, what gives you the right to call an emergency meeting in the toy department of all places?
TRENCH: I wanted you all present, so I can reveal who has been behind the sabotage at Devlin’s…
(There is a moment of expectant silence.)
DEBSY: Smoke! Coming from the cuckoo stall.
DEVLIN: Press the alarm, Bridges.
BRIDGES: I am sir, but it’s not working.
TRENCH: No, but the fire extinguisher is. (TRENCH groans as he picks it up.) Come on.
(They dash to the cuckoo shop.)
DEBSY: There’s smoke everywhere.
(TRENCH aims the extinguisher at the flames until they die.)
TRENCH: Not anymore.
DEVLIN: Gelda, you’re holding lighter fluid. You are the one responsible.
GELDA: Yes.
GERARD: What’s going..? Gelda no, tell me it’s not you – but it is, isn’t it? My cuckoos… why?
GELDA: The children, I just could not stand it any longer. Gerard, my Gerard – your cuckoo clocks attract and fascinate increasing numbers of children, like bees to a honeypot. I just couldn’t cope with looking at their fresh, eager faces any more, knowing I could never have – will never have – one of my own. I tried to end it the only way I know… I’m sorry Gerard.
DEBSY: I’ll be back! (She rushes off.)
GERARD: It’s me that should be sorry, Gelda – I should have realised.
BRIDGES: Tut, tut, tut. Truly shocking and scandalous.
DEVLIN: And now I have the excuse – I mean reason to be finally rid of you both.
(A panting dog comes scampering towards them, who barks excitedly.)
DEBSY: (Who’s slightly out of breath.) May I introduce you to Snowy… Look, he’s fascinated by the cuckoos – and he loves Gelda!
(An excited Snowy jumps into Gelda’s arms.)
GELDA: My baby!
TRENCH: Come on Devlin, it is Christmas. Gelda will cause you no more problems. Give them forgiveness this Christmas. And besides, I believe that the real reason you have put up with our cuckoo couple all these years is that, despite yourself, you actually like them.
DEVLIN: (Who takes a deep, considered breath.) This is what I am going to do – and all I’m going to do. Forget eight o’clock, Devlin’s is going to close early on Christmas Eve – as in now. And all the staff can be where they belong at Christmas, at home with their families.
DEBSY: Hurray! I’ve always liked you, Devlin!
TRENCH: Yeah right. Debsy, how did you know about Snowy?
DEBSY: I suddenly thought that the reason Snowy was so desperate to enter Devlin’s was because he could hear the cuckoo clocks through the partially open window. And knowing Snowy was a stray, I prayed he would take to Gelda.
TRENCH: Your prayers have been answered. (TRENCH kisses DEBSY.)
DEBSY: What was that?
TRENCH: Don’t you recognise a Christmas kiss when you see it?!
(Happier Christmas music changes the scene.)
TRENCH: So, that’s everything that happened, Old Tom.
OLD TOM: You brought snow in with you, Trench.
TRENCH: I know, I can’t believe it’s actually snowing on Christmas Day.
OLD TOM: It truly is a white Christmas.
TRENCH: And you’ve really gone overboard on the decorations old timer. A sprig of holly dangling down from the ceiling on a piece of string. Minimalistic isn’t the word for it…
OLD TOM: Don’t you like it?
TRENCH: Actually, no – I do. For you, it’s just right. Now, back to our Christmas mystery, I still don’t understand the spindle connection.
OLD TOM: Remember when the first floor doors were switched off at Devlin’s? And the fire exit was also jammed? The dimensions you described to me of the spindles led me to deduce that one had temporary replaced the break-glass cylinder – to effectively lock the fire door.
TRENCH: Brilliant.
OLD TOM: And put that together with someone who required detailed electrical knowledge to cause the power cut and lock the doors…
TRENCH: Gelda’s stepfather was an electrician…
OLD TOM: …with her tragic longing for a child, and the motive becomes clearer…
TRENCH: So when Gelda talked about being weary, she may have been referring to her childlessness. ‘It goes against the grain’.
OLD TOM: Sorry?
TRENCH: Gelda said that when I was holding a toy combine harvester.
OLD TOM: But she was not meaning the harvester?
TRENCH: Yes, I had mentioned Sally-Anne’s unplanned pregnancy. Gelda was sadly… so bitter.
OLD TOM: Yes Trench, you had obviously touched a nerve there.
TRENCH: ‘My Gerard’ was obviously never enough for her. And she said that I, not we fled Germany….
OLD TOM: Meaning Gelda escaped her Fatherland without her parents, ironically making her into a real life cuckoo…
TRENCH: …being raised and nurtured in another’s nest.
OLD TOM: But you saved poor Gelda, though Trench.
TRENCH: No, no – Snowy was all Debsy’s idea.
OLD TOM: But you gave her perhaps the most precious gift of all…
TRENCH: Which is..?
OLD TOM: You gave Gelda a second chance.
TRENCH: (Says quietly:) You’re talking about Mandrake…
OLD TOM: What was that, Trench?
TRENCH: Presents! Are you going to open yours or what?
OLD TOM: Oh, all right then. (He retrieves his present from underneath his armchair and unwraps it.) A magnifying glass – thank-you.
TRENCH: It was Debsy’s idea – to examine our mysteries even more closely…
OLD TOM: I won’t use it for that – I will use it to check expiry dates on food, and make sure they’re always well out of date!
TRENCH: I give up.
OLD TOM: Here’s yours.
TRENCH: This is a surprise. Something wrapped in brown paper – let’s see what it is. (TRENCH unwraps it.) A carrot?
OLD TOM: Well, it’s more for rat really.
TRENCH: Rat will be chuffed! Tell you what, I’ll make us both a nice Christmas cup of tea.
OLD TOM: No, no, no. It is Christmas Day after all and I think we should celebrate in style. I have prepared a couple of cold toddies especially for us. They are on the kitchen table
TRENCH: I’ll fetch them.
(TRENCH brings the drinks in from the kitchen and hands one to OLD TOM.)
TRENCH: Cheers.
(There is a ‘clink’ of glasses.)
OLD TOM: Seasonal greetings, Trench.
TRENCH: And a Merry Christmas to the armchair detective.
&
nbsp; CLOSING MYSTERY MUSIC
Read More…
Read Snowy’s Story, an original ‘sideways glance’ that accompanies and compliments The Armchair Detective At Christmas. Look for PLAY OF THE MONTH at www.thearmchairdetective.moonfruit.com
The
Armchair
Detective
and the
Peculiar
Pocket Watch
INTRODUCTION
Researching an article, a puzzling pocket watch comes into Trench’s possession.
Why does the pocket watch stop and then mysteriously reset itself?
Why does the current owner of the timepiece leave cryptic messages in the Stokeham Herald?
And what is the priceless secret behind all the ticking?
Old Tom and Trench slowly begin to realise that the pocket watch is trying to tell them more than just the time…
Cast List
TRENCH
OLD TOM
DEBSY
EDITOR LAW
RICHARD
RHONDA
LORD REAVES
MAVIS
ASSISTANT
Act One
OPENING MYSTERY MUSIC
OLD TOM: Come in, young man, the door is open.
(TRENCH enters OLD TOM’s flat, walks into the living room and slowly sits down.)
TRENCH: How are we, old timer?
OLD TOM: How many times have I asked you not to ask ridiculous questions?
TRENCH: Sorry.
OLD TOM: Drink your tea, it’s just cold enough.
TRENCH: But how did you..? Oh, never mind – I know, just in case…
(TRENCH sips his tea.)
TRENCH: Brr, freezing.
OLD TOM: Trench, don’t exaggerate.
TRENCH: Now, how many times have you told me that, Old Tom?
OLD TOM: (Says with warning:) Trenchy.
TRENCH: Sorry – again.
OLD TOM: Now, do you have anything for me?
TRENCH: Funny you should say that, because in a manner of speaking – yes, yes I do.
OLD TOM: I am at your mercy then.
TRENCH: Come again.
OLD TOM: Get on with it, Trench.
TRENCH: Oh, right. I suppose the purpose of my visit starts with the Stokeham Herald.
OLD TOM: More tea?
TRENCH: No, thanks.
OLD TOM: You don’t mind if I do?
TRENCH: Err, no. In fact help yourself, it is actually your tea anyway – even if it is freezing, I mean cold.
(OLD TOM pours himself more tea.)
OLD TOM: You were saying, Trench?
TRENCH: Yes… Editor Law, in his infinite wisdom, has resurrected a series of features from many a year ago, which invites readers to bring an item that they don’t really know either how they got it or where it comes from.
OLD TOM: I see – put simply, something with a mystery behind it.
TRENCH: If you like. We investigate and hopefully write a feature on the history of the previously and relatively unknown object.
OLD TOM: I am with you so far.
TRENCH: I wish Debsy was.
OLD TOM: Meaning?
TRENCH: Never mind. And I have brought an object with me that we’re having a particular problem with. You’ll never guess what it is.
OLD TOM: Is it a pocket watch, by any chance?
TRENCH: Oh, come on – you couldn’t possibly have known that.
OLD TOM: Following simple deductive techniques provided me with the answer. You sat down more carefully than usual, indicating that you were carrying something valuable; you said that you actually had something for me – and there is a slight bulge in your shirt pocket.
TRENCH: Even so, I still don’t see how you could…
OLD TOM: And besides, I can hear a faint ticking sound emanating from your persons.
TRENCH: Ah hah – no, what about my watch?
OLD TOM: It is one of those new-fangled gadgets – it doesn’t even tick.
TRENCH: Oh, yeah.
OLD TOM: Now, come on, show me the pocket watch. Let’s see which trail this timepiece will lead us…
(Ticking, combined with mysterious music changes the time, oh – and the scene.)
TRENCH: Debsy, have you finished that article on local attractions yet?
DEBSY: I’ll have a salad barm – with plenty of mayonnaise.
TRENCH: Daydreaming again, are we?
DEBSY: Sorry? No, of course not. I’m concentrating on a story – and I’m sorry if that’s a crime at the Stokeham Herald. And I finished that dull attraction thing earlier.
TRENCH: Very funny Debsy – you working on a story – or were you thinking about Richard again?
DEBSY: Don’t be ridiculous, Trench. Richard, is he coming back?
TRENCH: See – you were.
DEBSY: Mind reader now, are we?
TRENCH: Now, that’s a point. Where’s the pocket watch? Hah, here it is.
(There is a slight swish, as TRENCH swings the pocket watch to and fro.)
TRENCH: Look deep into my eyes. You will not even see the moving pocket watch, just my eyes. Now, do you fancy this Richard?
DEBSY: I do… think you’ve completely lost it, Trenny.
TRENCH: Well, fear not sweet child. I’m sure ravishing Richard will return – if only for his pocket watch.
DEBSY: Hah.
(The office door swings open.)
EDITOR LAW: What’s going on in here? And put that watch down, Trench.
TRENCH: Sorry, I wouldn’t want to hypnotise you by accident, Editor Law.
EDITOR LAW: That would be impossible, I’m made of sterner stuff than that.
TRENCH: (Whispers:) You are feeling sleepy…
EDITOR LAW: Now, why do I feel tired?
DEBSY: Stop it, Trench.
TRENCH: Right, I’ve put it away.
(TRENCH puts the pocket watch back in a drawer.)
DEBSY: We were… err discussing the possibilities of the pocket watch.
EDITOR LAW: Exactly when should you be finishing off those local features?
TRENCH: Excuse me, Editor Law, it was your decision, was it not, to investigate the origins of forgotten bric-a-brac etcetera from readers?
DEBSY: And besides, I’ve finished the features anyway.
EDITOR LAW: Oh… err yes. In that case – keep up the good work! And I’ll leave you to it.
(EDITOR LAW leaves the office.)
TRENCH: I give up – he’s getting worse.
DEBSY: Richard! Richard, he’s back. I’ve just seen him in the car park.
(TRENCH opens the drawer and retrieves the pocket watch.)
TRENCH: Probably came for this.
DEBSY: No, no – forget that silly watch. He’s come to see his favourite journalist – me!
(Expectant music moves things on.)
DEBSY: Oh Richard, do come into my office.
TRENCH: Hah hum.
DEBSY: I mean our office.
RICHARD: Thanks.
(RICHARD enters the office.)
TRENCH: Here’s your pocket watch back, then.
RICHARD: Oh no, I’ve not come here for that.
DEBSY: Oh, really…
RICHARD: I’ve come to see if you have discovered where the watch is from yet.
DEBSY: (Says crestfallen:) Oh.
RICHARD: Oh, and to see you again, Debsy.
DEBSY: (Says gushing:) Oh.
TRENCH: Actually, we are still working on the tickers origins. Are you sure you’ve no idea yourself, Richard?
RICHARD: Like I said before, I simply came across it when I was rummaging in the attic. Never seen it before but, of course, I think it would be fascinating to work out how the pocket watch got there…
DEBSY: Well, Richard – that’s what we intend to find out.
RICHARD: Thanks, Debsy. Will you be writing an article about the watch for Thursday’s edition of your paper?
TRENCH: Err… I hadn’t planned to. We’ve really not that much to report on
… yet.
RICHARD: (Says disappointedly:) Oh.
DEBSY: But we could still write an article in time of course.
RICHARD: (Says upbeat:) Oh. (Then normally:) That’s why I want to leave the watch with you – at least it gives you something real to go on.
TRENCH: (Says slightly cross:) Do you have any suggestions on what we should put in this article then?
RICHARD: Yes… if you put something like, oh I don’t know: ‘Stay focussed on the pocket watch, and we will wind up.’ or something exactly like that.
TRENCH: Sorry, what on earth does that mean?
DEBSY: I think it’s sweet – I’m free tonight. Err… if anyone’s interested.
RICHARD: Alas, I’m not, I mean free – I am interested, of course. I have a meeting at the Rotary Club. Another time perhaps, Debsy? Goodbye.
(RICHARD leaves.)
DEBSY: I… I’ll take you up on that offer.
(DEBSY begins typing.)
TRENCH: Debsy, what are you doing? You’re not putting that ridiculous quote Richard gave us in the paper?
DEBSY: Of course I am.
TRENCH: Unbelievable… Pocket watch, pocket watch – where are you from?
DEBSY: (Says distracted:) What?
TRENCH: Never mind the watch, Debsy – it’s you whom I should be giving a good ticking-off to…
DEBSY: Hah.
(Music laced with ticking, changes the scene.)
(TRENCH and DEBSY are walking through the streets of Stokeham.)
TRENCH: The cheek – I thought we were supposed to be journalists.
DEBSY: Trench, what are you ticking about? I mean talking about?
TRENCH: The one you like, Richard. Insisting we put in his pocket watch passage… Might as well hand over the whole article to him.
DEBSY: He didn’t insist, he suggested. I don’t know, maybe it’s a little joke… or sometimes a strange line gets people thinking. You know, invites interest…
TRENCH: Maybe…
DEBSY: Anyway, where are we going?
TRENCH: Old Tom noticed a pawnbroker’s mark on the back of the watch and suggested our first port of call should be him.
DEBSY: All right, how do you know which pawnbrokers to go to?
TRENCH: That’s easy, Stokeham has only one bona-fide pawnbrokers left – so that’s the one we’re visiting, funnily enough.
DEBSY: Have I ever said you’re a genius?