The Mousetrap and Other Plays

  SIR HENRY. (Crossing to Right of JOHN) What’s happened?

  (GUDGEON moves to Left of JOHN.)

  Cristow! Cristow! Good God, what’s happened? (He kneels beside JOHN.)

  MIDGE. (Moving above the sofa) Gerda—John—what is it?

  GUDGEON. (Kneeling Left of JOHN) Doctor Cristow, sir—what is it?

  SIR HENRY. (Raising JOHN’s head and shoulders) He’s been wounded. (He feels JOHN’s heart.)

  (JOHN is still breathing. GUDGEON rises and eases Left.)

  GUDGEON. Wounded? How did it happen?

  SIR HENRY. Ring for a doctor, Gudgeon.

  (GUDGEON crosses to the writing table and lifts the telephone receiver.)

  MIDGE. Is he dead?

  SIR HENRY. No.

  (LADY ANGKATELL enters Left. HENRIETTA enters Right.)

  HENRIETTA. I heard—a shot. (She kneels down Right of JOHN.) John—John.

  (EDWARD enters up Centre from Left and stands Right of the French windows. JOHN opens his eyes and looks at HENRIETTA.)

  JOHN. (Trying to raise himself; in a loud urgent voice) Henrietta—Henrietta . . . (He collapses.)

  (SIR HENRY feels JOHN’s heart, then looks at HENRIETTA and GERDA.)

  GERDA. (Moving below the armchair Left Centre, hysterically) He’s dead—he’s dead. John’s dead.

  (HENRIETTA moves to Right of GERDA and takes the revolver from her. LADY ANGKATELL moves to Left of GERDA and puts her arms around her.)

  John’s dead.

  (The Curtain begins to fall.)

  GUDGEON. (Into the telephone) Get me Doctor Murdock.

  CURTAIN

  Scene II

  SCENE: The same. Later the same day.

  When Curtain rises, the weather has changed; the wind is rising and the sky is overcast. The windows are closed, with the exception of the right side of the French windows up Centre. LADY ANGKATELL is seated on the sofa at the Right end, knitting. MIDGE is seated on the chair down Right. EDWARD is seated in the armchair Left Centre, doing “The Times” crossword. HENRIETTA is standing on the terrace up Centre. After a while HENRIETTA moves down Centre. She pauses as the clock strikes two, then paces below the sofa to Right and gazes out of the window Right.)

  LADY ANGKATELL. I knew the weather was too good to last. I wish I knew what to do about meals. This Inspector person and the other one—does one send them something on a tray? Or do they have a meal with us later?

  (HENRIETTA turns.)

  The police aren’t at all as they are in books. This Inspector Colquhoun, for instance, well he’s a gentleman. I know one mustn’t say that these days—it annoys people—but he is. (She pauses.)

  (HENRIETTA crosses above the sofa to Left.)

  (Suddenly.) St. Albans!

  (EDWARD and HENRIETTA look at LADY ANGKATELL in surprise.)

  HENRIETTA. What about St. Albans? (She moves to the alcove.)

  LADY ANGKATELL. No, no, Hendon. The police college. Quite unlike our local Inspector Jackson, who is very nice, but such a heavy accent, and such a heavy moustache.

  (HENRIETTA opens the curtain of the alcove, switches on the light and stands Right of the arch, looking off Left at the statue.)

  MIDGE. Why did they send someone down from Scotland Yard? I thought the local people always dealt with things first.

  EDWARD. This is the Metropolitan area.

  MIDGE. Oh, I see.

  (HENRIETTA moves to the fireplace, leaving the alcove curtain open and light on.)

  LADY ANGKATELL. I don’t think his wife looks after him properly. I imagine she’s the kind of woman that’s always cleaning the house, and doesn’t bother to cook.

  EDWARD. Inspector Colquhoun?

  LADY ANGKATELL. No, no, dear. Inspector Jackson. I shouldn’t think Colquhoun was married. Not yet. He’s quite attractive.

  HENRIETTA. They’re a long time in with Henry.

  LADY ANGKATELL. The worst of murder is it does upset the servants so.

  (HENRIETTA crosses above the sofa to the window Right.)

  We were to have duck for lunch. Still, cold duck can be quite nice. I suppose one couldn’t sit down and have a little bit, could one? (She pauses.) No.

  MIDGE. It was all horrible. (She shivers.) It’s dreadful having to sit in here.

  LADY ANGKATELL. Well, darling, we’ve got to sit in here. There is nowhere else to sit.

  (HENRIETTA turns and crosses below the sofa to the fireplace.)

  First they turn us out of here and take photographs, then they herd us back in here and make the dining room their headquarters, and now this Inspector Colquhoun is in the study with Henry.

  (There is a pause. HENRIETTA turns and faces the fireplace.)

  What does one do about Gerda, do you think? Something on a tray? A little strong soup, perhaps?

  MIDGE. (Rising and moving to the window Right; vehemently) Really, Lucy, you’re quite inhuman. (She gazes out of the window.)

  LADY ANGKATELL. (Surprised) Darling, it’s all very upsetting, but one has to go on with meals and things. Excitement even makes one rather hungry—rather sick, too.

  MIDGE. Yes, I know. That’s just what one does feel.

  LADY ANGKATELL. Reading about murders in newspapers gives one no idea how trying they can be. I feel as though I’d walked about fifteen miles. Just think, we’ll be in the News of the World next week—perhaps even tomorrow.

  EDWARD. I never see the News of the World.

  LADY ANGKATELL. Don’t you? Oh, I always do. We pretend to get it for the servants, but Gudgeon is very understanding. He doesn’t take it to the servants’ hall before the evening. You should read it, Edward. You’d be amazed at the number of old Colonels who make improper advances to nurse-maids.

  (GUDGEON enters Left. He carries a tray of coffee and sandwiches.)

  Ah! (She moves along the sofa and sits Centre of it.)

  GUDGEON. (Crossing to the coffee table) Shall I take something in to the study to Sir Henry and the police officer?

  LADY ANGKATELL. Yes, yes, thank you, Gudgeon, I’m a little worried about Mrs. Cristow.

  GUDGEON. Simmonds has already taken her up some tea, and some thin bread and butter and a boiled egg, m’lady. (He turns and crosses to the door Left.)

  LADY ANGKATELL. Thank you, Gudgeon. I had forgotten about the eggs, Gudgeon. I meant to do something about them.

  GUDGEON. (Stopping and turning) I have already attended to that, m’lady. (With a trace of emphasis) Quite satisfactorily, I think. You need have no further anxiety.

  (He exits Left.)

  LADY ANGKATELL. I don’t know what I should do without him. These substantial sandwiches are just what is needed—not as heartless as a sit-down meal, and yet . . .

  MIDGE. (Starting to cry; hysterically) Oh, Lucy—don’t!

  (LADY ANGKATELL looks surprised. EDWARD rises, crosses to the drinks table, puts his paper and pencil on it, then moves to MIDGE and puts an arm around her as she sobs unrestrainedly.)

  EDWARD. Midge . . .

  LADY ANGKATELL. Poor dear. It’s all been too much for her.

  EDWARD. Don’t worry, Midge. It’s all right. Come and sit down. (He leads her to the sofa and sits her at the Right end of it.)

  MIDGE. I’m sorry to be such a fool.

  EDWARD. We understand.

  MIDGE. I’ve lost my handkerchief.

  (LADY ANGKATELL pours out four cups of coffee.)

  EDWARD. (Handing MIDGE his handkerchief) Here—have mine.

  MIDGE. Thank you.

  EDWARD. (Moving to the coffee table) And have some coffee.

  MIDGE. No, I don’t want anything.

  EDWARD. Yes, you do. (He hands MIDGE a cup of coffee.) Come on now—drink this. It’ll make you feel better.

  LADY ANGKATELL. Some coffee, Henrietta?

  HENRIETTA. Yes, thank you. Shouldn’t one of us go up to Gerda?

  (EDWARD picks up a cup of coffee and crosses with it to HENRIETTA.)

  LADY ANGKATELL. My dear child, one doesn’t know w
hat to think.

  (EDWARD moves to the coffee table, picks up a cup of coffee for himself and eases up Centre.)

  One doesn’t even know what her reactions are. How would one feel if one had just killed one’s husband? One simply doesn’t know.

  HENRIETTA. Aren’t we assuming rather too readily that Gerda has killed her husband?

  (There is an awkward pause. EDWARD looks at LADY ANGKATELL and shifts uneasily. LADY ANGKATELL looks searchingly at HENRIETTA, trying to make up her mind about something.)

  EDWARD. Well, we found her standing over his body with the revolver in her hand. I imagined there was no question about it.

  HENRIETTA. We haven’t heard yet what she has to say.

  EDWARD. It seems self-evident to me.

  (HENRIETTA moves up Centre and goes on to the terrace.)

  LADY ANGKATELL. Mind you, she had every provocation. John behaved in a most barefaced manner. After all, there are ways of doing these things. Being unfaithful, I mean.

  (GERDA enters Left. She is very shaky and incoherent. She carries her leathercraft bag.)

  GERDA. (Looking around apologetically) I—I really couldn’t lie down any longer. I felt—so restless.

  LADY ANGKATELL. (Rising and moving to GERDA) No, of course not. (She leads her to the sofa and sits her at the Left end of it.) Come and sit here, my dear. (She moves above the sofa.) Midge, that little cushion.

  (MIDGE rises, puts her cup on the writing table, then takes the cushion from the chair down Right and hands it to LADY ANGKATELL.)

  (To GERDA.) Put your feet up. (She puts the cushion behind GERDA’s head.) We were just about to have some sandwiches. Would you like one?

  GERDA. No, no, thank you. I—I am only just beginning to realize it. I haven’t been able to feel—I still can’t feel—that John is really dead. That I shall never see him again. Who could possibly have killed him?

  (They all look embarrassed. SIR HENRY enters Left. He is followed on by INSPECTOR COLQUHOUN, who is a thoughtful, quiet man with charm and a sense of humour. His personality is sympathetic. He must not be played as a comedy part. SIR HENRY has a filled pipe in his hand.)

  SIR HENRY. (Moving to the fireplace) Inspector Colquhoun would like to talk to Gerda, my dear. (He turns.) Could you take him up and . . . (He sees GERDA and breaks off.)

  LADY ANGKATELL. This is Mrs. Cristow, Mr. Colquhoun.

  (The INSPECTOR crosses to Left of the sofa.)

  GERDA. (Nervously) Yes—yes—I—you want to talk to me? About John’s death?

  INSPECTOR. I don’t want to distress you, Mrs. Cristow, but I would like to ask you a few questions. You’re not bound to answer them unless you wish to do so, and you are entitled, if you like, to have your solicitor present before you say anything at all.

  SIR HENRY. That is what I should advise, Gerda.

  GERDA. (Putting her feet to the ground and sitting up) A solicitor? But why a solicitor? A solicitor wouldn’t know anything about John’s death.

  INSPECTOR. Any statement you choose to make . . .

  GERDA. I want to tell you. It’s all so bewildering—like a bad dream. I haven’t been able to cry, even. I just don’t feel anything at all.

  SIR HENRY. It’s the shock.

  GERDA. You see, it all happened so suddenly. I’d gone back to the house. I was just coming downstairs to fetch my leathercraft bag, and I heard a shot—came in here and there was John—lying all twisted up—and blood—blood . . .

  (MIDGE moves to the chair down Right and sits.)

  INSPECTOR. What time was this, Mrs. Cristow?

  (LADY ANGKATELL and MIDGE exchange looks.)

  GERDA. I don’t know. It might have been twelve o’clock—or half past.

  INSPECTOR. Where had you been before you came downstairs?

  GERDA. In my room.

  INSPECTOR. Had you just got up?

  GERDA. No, I’d been up for about three-quarters of an hour. I’d been outside. Sir Henry was very kindly teaching me how to shoot—but I did it so badly I couldn’t hit the target at all.

  (LADY ANGKATELL and MIDGE exchange looks.)

  Then I walked round a little—for exercise—came back to the house for my leatherwork bag, went upstairs, came down and then—as I told you—I heard a shot and came in here—and there was John dead.

  HENRIETTA. (Coming down the steps up Centre) Dying. (She moves to the drinks table, puts down her cup, takes a cigarette from the box on the table and lights it from the one she is smoking.)

  (They all look at HENRIETTA.)

  GERDA. I thought he was dead. There was the blood and the revolver. I picked it up . . .

  INSPECTOR. Why did you pick it up, Mrs. Cristow?

  (There is a tense pause. All look at the INSPECTOR.)

  GERDA. I don’t know.

  INSPECTOR. You shouldn’t have touched it, you know.

  GERDA. Shouldn’t I?

  (MIDGE takes a cigarette from the case in her bag.)

  INSPECTOR. And then what happened?

  GERDA. Then the others all came in and I said, “John’s dead—somebody’s killed John.” But who could have killed him? Who could possibly have wanted to kill him?

  (SIR HENRY strikes a match suddenly and lights his pipe. EDWARD looks at him for a moment.)

  John was the best of men, so good, so kind. He did everything for everyone. He sacrificed himself. Why, his patients all adored him. It must have been some sort of accident, it must—it must.

  MIDGE. Couldn’t it have been suicide?

  (MIDGE feels in her bag for her lighter.)

  INSPECTOR. No. (He crosses below the sofa to Right of it.) The shot was fired from at least four feet away.

  GERDA. But it must have been an accident.

  INSPECTOR. It wasn’t an accident, Mrs. Cristow. (He takes his lighter from his pocket and lights MIDGE’s cigarette.) There was no disagreement between you?

  GERDA. Between John and me? No.

  (MIDGE rises and crosses above the sofa to the steps up Centre.)

  INSPECTOR. Are you sure of that?

  GERDA. He was a little annoyed with me when we drove down here. I change gear so badly. I—I don’t know how it is, whenever I’m in the car with him, I never seem to do anything right. I get nervous.

  INSPECTOR. There was no serious disagreement? No—quarrel?

  GERDA. Quarrel? Between John and me? No, Inspector. No, John and I never quarrelled. He was so good, so kind. (She starts to cry.) I shall never see him again.

  (MIDGE moves to Left of the sofa.)

  (The INSPECTOR nods and moves up Right.)

  MIDGE. Yes. Come and have a rest. You’ll feel better.

  LADY ANGKATELL. Tell Simmonds—a hot-water bottle.

  (MIDGE leads GERDA to the door Left and they exit together.)

  (To the INSPECTOR.) She adored him.

  INSPECTOR. Just so. (He moves down Right.) Now, I should like to talk to you all, one at a time. Perhaps, Lady Angkatell, you wouldn’t mind . . . ?

  LADY ANGKATELL. (Delighted) Oh no, of course not, Inspector. I want to do everything I can to help you. (She eases to Left of the sofa.) I feel that we must all be very very cooperative.

  INSPECTOR. That’s certainly what we should like.

  LADY ANGKATELL. (Confidentially) Actually, this is my first murder.

  INSPECTOR. Indeed?

  LADY ANGKATELL. Yes, an old story to you, of course. I suppose you’re always rushing about here and there, arresting people, sending out flying squads?

  INSPECTOR. We’re not quite so dynamic as all that.

  SIR HENRY. My wife is very fond of going to the pictures, Inspector.

  INSPECTOR. I’m afraid in real life it’s much more boring than on the screen. (He crosses below LADY ANGKATELL to Left Centre.) We just go on asking people a lot of rather dull questions.

  LADY ANGKATELL. (Radiantly) And now you want to ask me a lot of questions. Well, I shall do everything I can to help you. As long as you don’t ask me what time anything was,
or where I was, or what I was doing. Because that’s something I never remember—even when I was quite tiny.

  SIR HENRY. Don’t discourage the Inspector too much, my dear. (He moves to the door Left and opens it.) May I come along, too?

  INSPECTOR. I should be pleased, Sir Henry.

  SIR HENRY. My wife’s remarks are sometimes rather hard to follow. I can act as interpreter.

  (LADY ANGKATELL crosses and exits Left. The INSPECTOR and SIR HENRY follow her off. HENRIETTA moves on to the terrace up Centre and stands in the window. EDWARD watches her in silence for a few moments. She pays no attention to him.)

  EDWARD. It’s not so warm as yesterday.

  HENRIETTA. No, no—it’s cold—autumn chill.

  EDWARD. You’d better come in—you’ll catch cold.

  HENRIETTA. I think I’ll go for a walk.

  EDWARD. I shouldn’t.

  HENRIETTA. Why?

  EDWARD. (Crossing to the fireplace and putting his cup and saucer on the mantelpiece) Well, for one thing it’s going to rain—and another—they might think it odd.

  HENRIETTA. You think a policeman would plod after me through the woods?

  EDWARD. I really don’t know. One can’t tell what they’re thinking—the whole thing seems obvious.

  HENRIETTA. Gerda, you mean?

  EDWARD. After all, who else is there?

  HENRIETTA. (Moving to Right of the armchair Left Centre) Who else had a motive to kill John Cristow?

  EDWARD. Yes.

  HENRIETTA. Did Gerda have a motive?

  EDWARD. If she found out a few things—after all, last night . . . (He breaks off.)

  HENRIETTA. John and Veronica Craye, you mean?

  EDWARD. (Slightly embarrassed) Well, yes. (Impatiently) He must have been crazy.

  HENRIETTA. He was. Adolescent passion unresolved and kept in cold storage and then suddenly released. (She crosses to the coffee table and stubs out her cigarette in the ashtray.) He was crazy all right.

  EDWARD. She’s a remarkably good-looking woman in a rather hard, obvious sort of way. But I can’t see anything to lose your head about.

  HENRIETTA. I don’t suppose John could—this morning.

  EDWARD. (Turning to face the fire) It’s an unsavoury business.

  HENRIETTA. Yes. (She crosses to Right of the sofa.) I think I will go for a walk.