by Ian Shimwell
TRENCH: Come to think of it – no you haven’t, never.
DEBSY: Well I won’t – well not until the pocket watch strikes thirteen!
TRENCH: Funny. Hah, here’s the pawn shop – The Jewel in the Crown Pawnbrokers. We’ve arrived.
DEBSY: Oh good – I couldn’t sell you there, could I?
(Loud ticking moves things along.)
(A tinkling bell sound can be heard as TRENCH and DEBSY enter the shop.)
ASSISTANT: How may I help you? Are you buying or selling? As you can see, there are plenty of watches, rings and bangles, bracelets and necklaces to catch your eye.
TRENCH: We’re not buying.
ASSISTANT: Ah, so you’re selling then.
DEBSY: (Who whispers to Trench:) A brilliant deduction that rivals your Old Tom’s.
TRENCH: But still wrong.
ASSISTANT: Sorry, Mr… err?
TRENCH: Trench. We actually just want you to have a look at this pocket watch.
(TRENCH retrieves the watch from his pocket.)
ASSISTANT: I see. You require a valuation?
TRENCH: Not exactly. Would you examine the pawnbrokers’ mark, and tell us if it’s been handled by this establishment?
ASSISTANT: Hmm, let me see… (He examines the watch.) Yes it’s definitely one of ours. Does that help you?
DEBSY: Yes, but what would help us even more, is the names and, while you’re at it, the addresses of the person who pawned it – and the subsequent purchaser. Did I just say all that in one go?
TRENCH: Yes, you did Debsy – congratulations.
ASSISTANT: Ironically enough, the details you are seeking are likely to be in this bookkeeping volume here, that I am in the process of reviewing.
DEBSY: That’s handy.
ASSISTANT: I’m afraid it isn’t actually. All our customer records are strictly confidential, so I couldn’t possibly…
TRENCH: A shame.
DEBSY: While we’re here though, my fiancé Trench here would love to have a look at your wedding rings.
TRENCH: (Who coughs.) Would I?
DEBSY: Yes, you would, dear. But I can’t see any on display.
ASSISTANT: That’s because they’re in the back. I’ll just fetch the tray for your perusal.
(The ASSISTANT goes into the back.)
TRENCH: Call me old-fashioned but shouldn’t I first buy you an engagement ring – and perform that quaint little custom called proposing?
DEBSY: Never mind all that, quick let’s look at this book.
(DEBSY and TRENCH furiously flick through the book.)
DEBSY: It’s not that entry.
TRENCH: Why not?
DESBY: Gold necklaces tend not to tell the time well.
TRENCH: Come on, get on with it – he’ll be back any moment.
DEBSY: Hah, that could be it – it details a pocket watch.
TRENCH: And the code corresponds with part of the pawnbrokers’ mark.
DEBSY: That’s it!
TRENCH: How odd, the person who pawned this, and later bought it back are one and the same person.
DEBSY: Maybe he had an upturn of fortune. Quick, close the book – he’s coming back.
ASSISTANT: I am right in assuming the ring is for the lady?
DEBSY: No, you’re not right. In fact I’ve gone off the whole idea – I wouldn’t marry him in a million years. Ignorant as a pig.
(DEBSY storms off, slamming the shop door behind her.)
TRENCH: Women.
(Comical music merges into a more mysterious theme as the scene changes.)
OLD TOM: Debsy did really well – deliberately asking to see the one type of jewellery that wasn’t on display, which gave you both a chance to delve. Brilliant – I am impressed.
TRENCH: All right, old timer – don’t go on. I’m sure I would have thought of the idea… eventually.
OLD TOM: Even so – credit where credits due.
TRENCH: OK – I get the message, I’ll nominate Debsy for the honours’ list.
OLD TOM: Yes, Trenchy. So, the previous owner of the pocket watch, thanks to Debs… I mean both of you, is R. Abbot.
TRENCH: We even have his address – so Mr Abbot will be our next port of call.
OLD TOM: Very good – assuming it is a man of course.
TRENCH: Well, yes – but you don’t see many women attracted to pocket watches.
OLD TOM: Point taken. Be a dear, Trench – and wind up my mantle clock, would you?
TRENCH: (Who gets up.) I would if I could find the key.
OLD TOM: It is situated underneath the clock. I can even see it from my armchair.
TRENCH: Ah, here it is.
(We hear TRENCH winding the clock up.)
TRENCH: There.
OLD TOM: Don’t forget to wind the chime up too.
TRENCH: What?
OLD TOM: Place the key in the other slot – and turn.
TRENCH: Oh yes. (He turns the key.) I had worked out the turning bit.
OLD TOM: I know. Would you like anymore tea?
TRENCH: (Who sits back down.) No, one cup of cold tea is more than enough – thank you very much.
OLD TOM: Please yourself. Now, let’s take another look at the pocket watch.
(TRENCH passes OLD TOM the watch.)
OLD TOM: Eighteen carat gold throughout, seventeen jewels – this is awfully valuable, you know? With a very proud pawnbrokers’ mark, hmm..?
TRENCH: Significant?
(OLD TOM flicks the pocket watch open.)
OLD TOM: That’s curious – the watch has stopped, dead on eleven o’clock.
TRENCH: But, like your clock, I’ve only recently wound it up. So, that shouldn’t have happened. It doesn’t really make any sense, does it?
OLD TOM: And it is still ticking…
TRENCH: But, could it mean anything?
OLD TOM: I’m not sure…
TRENCH: Come on, Old Tom – what are you thinking?
OLD TOM: Maybe… maybe the pocket watch is trying to tell us something more than just the time…
(A longer piece of mystery music indicates the end of Act One.)
Act Two
(TRENCH and DEBSY are walking along a quiet road.)
TRENCH: At least now I know why you so suddenly broke off our engagement, dear Debsy.
DEBSY: And why did I, Trenny?
TRENCH: Well, if you’d married me – you would have made ravishing Richard desperately jealous.
DEBSY: Absolute non… Actually, you’re right – I think that would have really upset Richard, come to think of it.
TRENCH: Dream on, Debsy.
DESBY: What’s wrong – don’t you think a man like that could be attracted to me?
TRENCH: Nah, it’s not that – I just think you’re too good for him.
DEBSY: So, who are you now – my father?!
TRENCH: Oh look, we’re here at the Abbot household.
(TRENCH rings the bell.)
DEBSY: Saved by the bell.
(Music accompanied by ticking changes the scene.)
TRENCH: At least Abbot’s name isn’t Richard.
DEBSY: Hah, hah. Oh, lovely tea and biscuits, thanks Rhonda.
RHONDA: Well, it’s not every day, investigating journalists descend on one’s home.
(RHONDA places the tray on the table, and everybody helps themselves to the tea and biscuits.)
TRENCH: Look at the tea, there’s actually steam coming off it.
RHONDA: Debsy, has your colleague never seen hot tea before?
DEBSY: It’s complicated, Rhonda - best to humour him really.
TRENCH: Ouch, it’s hot!
RHONDA: The biscuits are cold, if that’s any help.
TRENCH: Are they fresh? I mean, not stale?
RHONDA: Of course they’re fresh.
TRENCH: Oh no, I don’t think that I can take the excitement.
DEBSY: Now start behaving Trench, or I’ll take them off you.
TRENCH: Yes, Mum!
RHONDA:
Now, you mentioned something about a pocket watch?
TRENCH: Oh yes. Now, does this seem familiar?
(TRENCH passes RHONDA the pocket watch.)
RHONDA: Where did you get this from?
DEBSY: It’s a long story – but was it your pocket watch, Rhonda?
RHONDA: Yes, yes it is – or was. I must have lost it years ago.
TRENCH: So, Rhonda – how did you lose it? We would be very interested.
RHONDA: I don’t see what harm it could do. I was taking a box of rubbish, well bric-a-brac, to give to a charity shop at the same time I was taking that very watch in for repair.
TRENCH: What was wrong with it – did it keep stopping at eleven o’clock?
RHONDA: Now, it did keep stopping – but don’t ask me to remember the time it stopped at. But how did you know?
TRENCH: You might be interested to know, the pocket watch still inexplicably stops.
RHONDA: It’s going now, though – and at the right time.
TRENCH: Yes, around twenty minutes after stopping, it strangely resets itself back to the correct time.
DEBSY: How… peculiar.
RHONDA: Yes, but as I was saying, for ease of carrying, I placed this very pocket watch in the charity box – but, silly me, forgot all about it when I gave the box full of stuff to the shop.
DEBSY: Easy done, I suppose.
TRENCH: I’m saying nothing.
RHONDA: When I realised, I returned to the shop but the box and the watch had gone.
DEBSY: Did the staff have any idea who’d taken it?
RHONDA: No, but to be fair, they were in the middle of a re-fit and, well it was chaos really.
TRENCH: And that was the last time you saw it?
RHONDA: Until now, of course. It’s so good to have it back after so long – my father would have been pleased.
TRENCH: Err… I’m afraid we can’t let you have your timepiece back just back. At least, not until we’ve completed our enquiries.
RHONDA: I understand – here.
(RHONDA stretches to return the watch to TRENCH.)
DEBSY: So, Rhonda – am I right in assuming the pocket watch was your father’s?
RHONDA: Yes.
TRENCH: And how did your father come by the watch?
RHONDA: You know, I don’t honestly know. He never actually said.
DEBSY: Can’t you… err ask him?
RHONDA: Sadly, no – father and mother died in a motor car accident many years ago.
DEBSY: Oh… dear.
TRENCH: Richard.
RHONDA: Richard?
TRENCH: In response to your original question, a gentleman called Richard currently owns this remarkable timepiece.
RHONDA: Richard, really?
DEBSY: You don’t know him, do you?
RHONDA: I think that would be very unlikely. It’s funny though…
TRENCH: What is?
RHONDA: Richard was also the name of my father…
(Mysterious music changes the scene.)
(TRENCH and DEBSY are walking again, but this time on a busier street.)
DEBSY: We do seem to be doing a lot of walking. Ever heard of a car, Trench?
TRENCH: It can’t be far away, and the Stokeham Herald’s close too.
DEBSY: What’s this got to do with the price of fish? Where are we going, anyway?
TRENCH: You’re going back to the Herald, while I go and have another chat with Richard.
DEBSY: Oh no, I’ll see Richard – while you go back to work.
TRENCH: Tell you what then, we’ll both visit dear Richy.
DEBSY: I’m glad that’s sorted. Trench, did you think Rhonda was good-looking?
TRENCH: I suppose so, but there was something… oh, I don’t know… maybe cold about her. Couldn’t put my finger on it, though.
DEBSY: Finger… yes, of course. She had taste though.
TRENCH: What?
DEBSY: Didn’t you see this weeks’ copy of the Stokeham Herald on her table?
TRENCH: Nope – missed that.
(They walk some more.)
DEBSY: And Rhonda’s daddy was called Richard too. Could that be important?
TRENCH: Not likely, Debs – just an insignificant coincidence.
DEBSY: And this pocket watch mystery is full of them.
(Music accompanied by loud ticking changes the scene.)
DEBSY: It’s lovely to see you again, Richy.
RICHARD: It’s really lovely to see you too, Debsy.
TRENCH: Oh please, it is lovely to see both of you. Now, can we talk watches?
DEBSY: As you can tell Richy, Trench definitely isn’t the romantic type.
RICHARD: No.
DEBSY: Oh, you read the Herald too – and what’s this ‘Wholesale Jewellers’ magazine?
TRENCH: Are you in the business?
RICHARD: Not really – but I’m always on the lookout for a good investment.
TRENCH: Right Richard, can you please tell us in more detail how you ‘found’ the pocket watch?
RICHARD: Certainly. I found it at the bottom of a box of bric-a-brac which was stored up in the attic.
TRENCH: Yes, but how did the box get up there?
RICHARD: Hmm, now let me think…
DEBSY: Don’t worry if you can’t remember – it’s all right.
TRENCH: No it isn’t ‘all right’ – it’s important.
RICHARD: Yes… at the time I was helping out in the local charity shop… and when they were overloaded with stuff, I used to store bulky items and odd boxes of donated all-sorts here.
DEBSY: And did you store any boxes in your attic?
RICHARD: Yes, yes I did. I must have forgotten all about that fellow!
DEBSY: And that was the box with the pocket watch.
TRENCH: How convenient.
RICHARD & DEBSY: (Together they say angrily:) What?
TRENCH: I mean, that all ties in with what we’ve recently discovered.
RICHARD: And what’s that?
TRENCH: That the previous owner – and probably current legal – owner of the pocket watch is Rhonda Abbot.
RICHARD: Oh.
DEBSY: Richard, do you know her?
RICHARD: I don’t think so. Although it’s always possible I bumped into her at the charity shop, all those years ago.
DEBSY: Well, that clears that up then. I’m free tonight, if anyone’s interested?
TRENCH: I’m not!
RICHARD: I am, dear Debsy – but alas I cannot make it tonight.
DEBSY: What is it this time – Masons or something?
RICHARD: Let me just check my diary…
(RICHARD picks his diary up and flicks through the pages.)
RICHARD: I can make it next Tuesday evening. Debsy, would you then do the honour of allowing me to escort you on an evening out?
DEBSY: (Says rather too hastily:) Yes. (Then normally:) It’s a long wait though…
RICHARD: I’ll be counting the very seconds, my sweet…
TRENCH: Right, we’re off! Come on, Debs.
DEBSY: Sorry – bye.
(TRENCH abruptly bungles DEBSY out of RICHARD’s house.)
DEBSY: What was all that about?
TRENCH: Oh, I couldn’t stand it any longer.
DEBSY: There are times when I can’t stand you – but I don’t storm off.
TRENCH: Oh, really?
DEBSY: Yes, really.
TRENCH: And finally when the numpty asks you out – talk about a long wait, it is only Friday, for heaven’s sake. What’s he doing till Tuesday?
DEBSY: I don’t know, I’m not his keeper. (She takes a deep breath to calm down.) So, the pocket watch mystery is solved then?
TRENCH: I don’t think so.
DEBSY: But Richard knows where it came from.
TRENCH: Maybe, but not where it originates. Rhonda is unaware how her father came into possession of the timepiece and I intend to find out.
DEBSY: (Says sternly:) Trench, (But then more softly:) and I’
ll help you.
TRENCH: Oh, all right then.
(Mysterious music changes the scene.)
DEBSY: (Who takes a heavy sigh.) Phew, that’s the last of this week’s features.
TRENCH: Yes, but still no leads in our pocket mystery.
(The office door is pushed further open.)
EDITOR LAW: That’s where you’re wrong, Trench. Lord Reaves himself has contacted the Herald regarding the pocket watch.
DEBSY: Who’s Lord Reaves?
EDITOR LAW: Really, Deborah. He was a local big-wig in stocks and shares. He’s retired now, of course.
TRENCH: Ever played golf with him, Editor Law?
EDITOR LAW: Once or twice, if I remember rightly. Lost both times…
DEBSY: But what’s his connection with the watch?
TRENCH: That, my dear, is what we are about to find out.
(Ticking sounds with background music changes scene.)
LORD REAVES: Do sit down. You youngsters are in for a treat – you are just in time for elevenses.
DEBSY: Thank-you Lord Reaves – not for the elevenses, but for calling us youngsters.
LORD REAVES: (Who laughs.) Very witty, my dear. (Then raises his voice.) Mavis, we are all suffering malnutrition in here. It is known as elevenses for a reason, you know – and not ‘five past elevenses’.
MAVIS: (Who shouts from the kitchen.) Me come soon, my lord. Me make tea and lovely scones.
TRENCH: Mavis?
LORD REAVES: Oh, she’s my nursemaid, cook and home-help. She’s even been a nanny to the family too, Trench.
TRENCH: An all-rounder then, Lord Reaves?
LORD REAVES: Quite.
DEBSY: Glorious painting, err… on the wall.
LORD REAVES: Family portrait dear – parents, myself and my brother. I always thought it was a trifle brooding though… Now, about this pocket watch – may I see it?
TRENCH: Here.
(TRENCH passes LORD REAVES the pocket watch.)
LORD REAVES: Fascinating…
DEBSY: Is it… was it yours, Lord Reaves?
LORD REAVES: Firstly, I want to know who you think the owner is.
TRENCH: It appears that Rhonda Abbot is the rightful, current owner.
LORD REAVES: Remarkable – so you’re informing me that this belongs to my niece, Rhonda?
DEBSY: Yes – but we didn’t know she was your niece. Is Rhonda separated or divorced?
LORD REAVES: Why yes Debsy, she divorced a while back – but what made you ask such a question?
DEBSY: I noticed a mark on her wedding finger – but no ring.