by Ian Shimwell
DEBSY: Don’t worry, I’ve already given myself a gold star.
TRENCH: You have too! Come on, let’s have another look at the clocks that cuckoo.
DEBSY: Any particular reason?
TRENCH: I err… just like looking at them.
DEBSY: I don’t know, Trench – you’re just like a big kid.
TRENCH: Me? You behave or I’ll take away your doll.
DEBSY: Can’t catch me. Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah.
(Jokingly, TRENCH chases DEBSY. They come to a sudden halt at the cuckoo clocks – which we can hear.)
DEBSY: Oops, sorry.
GERARD: Yes, so you should be – even the children behave better than you two.
(The cuckoo clocks ‘cuckoo’ three times, signalling three o’clock in the afternoon.)
TRENCH: That’s told us. Gerard, where’s Gelda?
GERARD: Oh, she’s in the back – in the workshop doing a little job for me.
DEBSY: Can we see her?
GERARD: Yes, of course – just go through, but don’t run.
DEBSY: Promise and hope to die.
TRENCH: (Says exasperated:) Debsy.
(They walk into the workshop where we can hear GELDA working.)
DEBSY: Gelda, you’re doing a spot of woodwork – I am impressed.
GELDA: I’m sorry – I’ll pack up right away. You must think me ill-mannered.
TRENCH: Nonsense Gelda. Heh, you’re working on those spindles we were thinking about – can I have a look at one?
(GELDA places the spindles in a drawer and shuts it sharply.)
GELDA: They are really not very interesting, Trench.
(A cuckoo inside the workshop –cuckoos three times.)
DEBSY: Either that cuckoo has the wrong time or all her sisters are singing from a dodgy hymn sheet.
GELDA: Sorry..?
DEBSY: This cuckoo clock appears to be a bit on the slow side.
GELDA: Oh yes. That little fellow is in for repair. My Gerard just hasn’t got round to it yet – well, you can see how busy he is. All those children to please…
TRENCH: Well, I for one think your Gerard does a marvellous job.
DEBSY: Me too – I mean, I for… err two.
GELDA: (Who laughs slightly.) I know what you mean, child.
DEBSY: That’s a relief – can you explain it to me then?
TRENCH: Debsy, you’re misbehaving again…
DEBSY: Sor-ry.
GELDA: Do not concern yourself, dear. I welcome laughter and fun. He knows, I have had precious little of them in my life…
DEBSY: You can’t have had things easy, Gelda – but at least you have all this.
GELDA: I have my Gerard.
TRENCH: Gelda, these attacks or whatever they are, generally seem to focus on this floor, maybe even this stall. Do you know anyone with a grudge against you or your business?
GELDA: I was beginning to fear that… Bridges wants the floor to himself and Devlin has another reason for wanting us out…
DEBSY: Surely, he wouldn’t…
TRENCH: Devlin could have one of the oldest motives, but still…
GELDA: I… have lived with prejudice all my life. From blatant abuse to that stolen look of disapproval you catch from some people. And, you know, after all this time; practically all my life in your country, one grows weary. One grows so very weary…
(GERARD enters the workshop.)
GERARD: What’s going on in here? You have upset my wife.
GELDA: It’s all right, Gerard.
GERARD: I think you should leave.
DEBSY: We’re… going.
(TRENCH and DEBSY resignedly walk out of the cuckoo clock shop.)
TRENCH: Devlin! He’s over at the toy department. Let’s have a word with him right now.
DEBSY: I’m right behind you.
(TRENCH dashes over to the toys.)
TRENCH: Ah, Devlin – sorry to disturb you, but me and Debsy… That’s funny, she’s gone…
DEVLIN: What is it, Trench? I am very busy – it is Christmas Eve, you know. Even though we are open late till eight tonight.
TRENCH: Sorry sir, I just thought a little chat was in order.
DEVLIN: On your progress, eh? Won’t be moment. (He raises his voice.) Bridges, we have customers for once in toys. Help the staff out, will you?
BRIDGES: (From a distance.) At once, sir.
DEVLIN: So, whom is the lunatic who is plaguing me?
TRENCH: Err… our investigations are reaching their final stages. The surprise Christmas present hasn’t been unwrapped yet, so to speak.
DEVLIN: What in the Fatherland, are you talking about?
TRENCH: I mean we’re close – I just need clarification on a few things. Fatherland..?
DEVLIN: Simply a turn of phrase. Now ask your questions if you must, but hurry up.
TRENCH: Gerard and Gelda, the husband and wife team who work and run the cuckoo stall…
DEVLIN: I know who they are, Trench. In fact, I can hear the damned cuckoos from here.
TRENCH: Yes, of course. Can I ask why you gave them a potentially lucrative thirty-year lease – and only charge them half your current going rate?
DEVLIN: My, my – you have been doing your homework. I am impressed.
TRENCH: It was Debsy who discovered that, actually.
DEVLIN: Thirty years is a long time – the store has grown magnificently since the early, difficult days.
TRENCH: So, you were desperate?
DEVLIN: In a work, yes. And that type always profit from other people’s suffering and vulnerability.
TRENCH: Gerard and Gelda?
DEVLIN: Yes. I had just opened the store – and was almost drowning in debt. Gerard shrewdly offered me more than generous rent on said thirty year lease with one proviso – I had to agree to no increase in rent – ever.
TRENCH: Which presumably was great at first, but bad business for you as inflation kicked in.
DEVLIN: Exactly. They may have helped me long ago – but at a price. My father advised me to never do business with a Jew – I should have listened.
TRENCH: So, you think the Jewish people are some sort of business parasites, which are best being rid of?
DEVLIN: That son, is a question for history itself to answer.
TRENCH: And are these incidents directed at what I regard as a sweet, elderly couple?
DEVLIN: I hope you are not suggesting that I..? How ridiculous. Attack my own store and takings? Nonsense. Just find out who the culprit is before Christmas is out – and they do any more damage. Good day.
(DEVLIN storms off and DEBSY reappears.)
DEBSY: Peek-a-boo!
TRENCH: Coward!
DEBSY: (Says in a mock, hurt way:) What do you mean?
TRENCH: Debsy, you deliberately waited for Devlin to leave before magically reappearing.
DEBSY: Oh, what if I did? I can’t stand the man. Was your discussion with Devlin fruitful?
TRENCH: I learnt one thing – that I must see Editor Law.
DEBSY: I wouldn’t, he’s a law unto himself, that one. Why though?
TRENCH: I suspect that Devlin’s family background could hold the key to the whole thing – and our boss is the man to find out!
(Thoughtful, Christmas music changes the scene.)
TRENCH: Old Tom, I can’t believe it. I have some vital information from Editor Law and all you can talk about is spindles!
OLD TOM: Then humour me, Trenchy. Simply describe the dimensions of these spindles – and then, as far as Editor Law is concerned, I’m all yours.
TRENCH: Oh, all right then. The spindles are about this thick – and this long.
OLD TOM: I see. That’s around three-quarter inch diameter and seven inches long. Thank-you Trench.
TRENCH: Now, where was I?
OLD TOM: Does Editor Law ring any bells?
TRENCH: Oh yes. Oh, by the way – you still haven’t put any Christmas decorations up, have you?
OLD TOM: I never put sea
sonal decorations up until midnight on Christmas Eve – which is the traditional and proper time. There is almost eight hours to wait – and my flat will be transformed.
TRENCH: With tinsel?
OLD TOM: You will see, all in good time. Now please, tell me about your editor before you burst!
TRENCH: Right. I went to see Editor Law to ask him if he would have another one of those nights with Devlin’s uncle but, as luck would have it, his uncle had already beaten someone else in his next golf match when Law met him in the clubhouse.
OLD TOM: So, Devlin’s uncle was already worse for wear?
TRENCH: Correct. And uncle was even more lucid on this occasion and passed onto my editor a startling revelation…
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 – l
et’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.
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
NEXT: The Armchair Detective and the Peculiar Pocket-Watch
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