VERONICA. I’m sure I never said that. What have you been listening to? Servants’ talk?

  SERGEANT. One of your fans, Miss Craye, was hanging around hoping to get your autograph. (Significantly) She heard a great deal of what went on in this room.

  VERONICA. (Rising; angrily) All a pack of lies. (To the INSPECTOR) Can I have my bag, please?

  INSPECTOR. (Crossing to the fireplace) Certainly, Miss Craye. (He picks up the bag.) But I’m afraid I shall have to keep the gun.

  VERONICA. Gun?

  (The INSPECTOR takes a handkerchief from his pocket, puts it round his hand, opens the bag and takes out a revolver.)

  INSPECTOR. Didn’t you know there was a gun in your bag?

  SERGEANT. (With a step towards the INSPECTOR) But . . .

  (The INSPECTOR quells the SERGEANT with a glance.)

  VERONICA. There wasn’t a gun. It’s not mine. I don’t know anything about a gun.

  INSPECTOR. (Examining the revolver) Thirty-eight Smith and Wesson the same calibre as the bullet that killed John Cristow.

  VERONICA. (Angrily) Don’t you think you can frame me! (She moves to the INSPECTOR.) I’ll see my attorney. I’ll . . . How dare you!

  INSPECTOR. (Holding out the bag) Here’s your bag, Miss Craye.

  (VERONICA snatches the bag from him. She looks both angry and frightened.)

  VERONICA. I won’t say another word.

  INSPECTOR. Very wise.

  (VERONICA turns, glares at the SERGEANT, then exits hurriedly up Centre to Left. The INSPECTOR looks after her, twisting the revolver which he holds carefully in the handkerchief.)

  SERGEANT. (Easing to Right of the armchair Left Centre.) But, sir, I . . .

  INSPECTOR. But me no buts, Penny. Things are not what they seem, and all the rest of it. (He moves to the armchair Left Centre and sits slowly in it.)

  (The SERGEANT opens his mouth to protest.)

  (He silences the SERGEANT with a gesture.) I know—I know. Now I wonder . . . ?

  CURTAIN

  ACT THREE

  SCENE: The same. The following Monday morning.

  When Curtain rises, it is a fine morning, the French windows are open and a small fire burns in the grate. GUDGEON ushers in the INSPECTOR and the SERGEANT Left.

  GUDGEON. I will inform Sir Henry you are here, sir.

  (He exits Left.)

  SERGEANT. (Glancing at the drinks table) Nice flowers. (He moves to the fireplace.)

  INSPECTOR. (Moving up Centre and standing in the French windows) Yes.

  SERGEANT. (Turning and looking at the picture over the mantelpiece) I rather like this picture. Nice house. I wonder whose it is?

  INSPECTOR. That’s Lady Angkatell’s old home.

  SERGEANT. Is it now? All sold up like everything else nowadays?

  INSPECTOR. No, it belongs to Edward Angkatell. Entailed, you see.

  SERGEANT. (Turning) Why not to Sir Henry? He’s got the title.

  INSPECTOR. No. He’s a KCB. He was only a second cousin.

  SERGEANT. You seem to know all about the family.

  INSPECTOR. (Moving down Right) I’ve taken the trouble to find out all I could. I thought it might have a bearing on the case.

  SERGEANT. I don’t quite see how. (He eases Left Centre.) Anyway, we’re getting places at last—or aren’t we?

  INSPECTOR. Aren’t we is probably right.

  (DORIS enters up Centre from Left.)

  DORIS. (Standing in the French windows) Ssh!

  SERGEANT. Hullo.

  DORIS. (Moving Centre; conspiratorially) I come round this way because I didn’t want Mr. Gudgeon to spot me. They say out there it’s common to have anything to do with the police, but what I say is let justice be done.

  SERGEANT. That’s the spirit, my girl. And who says it’s common to have anything to do with the police?

  DORIS. (Turning to the SERGEANT) Mrs. Medway—the cook. She said it was bad enough anyway to have police in the house and a thing that had never happened to her before and she was afraid she wasn’t going to have a light hand with her pastry. (She pauses for breath.) And if it wasn’t for her ladyship she’d give in her notice, but she couldn’t leave her ladyship in the lurch. (She crosses to Left of the sofa. To the INSPECTOR) All potty about her ladyship they are.

  SERGEANT. Well, come to the part about justice being done.

  DORIS. (Turning and crossing to Right of the SERGEANT) It’s what I seen with my own eyes.

  SERGEANT. And very nice eyes they are, too.

  DORIS. (Nudging the SERGEANT) Oh, go on! Well, Saturday afternoon it was—the very day of the murder. I went to shut the bedroom windows because it looked like rain, and I happened to glance over the banisters, and what did I see?

  SERGEANT. Well—what did you see?

  DORIS. I saw Mr. Gudgeon standing in the front hall with a revolver in his hand and he looked ever so peculiar. Gave me quite a turn it did.

  INSPECTOR. Gudgeon?

  DORIS. (Moving to Left of the sofa) Yes, sir. And it come to me as perhaps he was the murderer.

  INSPECTOR. Gudgeon!

  DORIS. (Crossing below the sofa to Left of the INSPECTOR) And I hope I’ve done right in coming to you, but what they’ll say to me in the servants’ hall I don’t know, but what I felt was—let—

  SERGEANT. You did quite right, my girl.

  DORIS. And what I feel is . . . (She breaks off and listens.) Someone’s coming. (She moves quickly up Centre.) I must hop it. I’m supposed to be counting the laundry.

  (She exits up Centre to Left.)

  SERGEANT. (Moving up Centre and looking after DORIS) That’s a useful girl. She’s the one who was hanging about for Miss Craye’s autograph.

  (SIR HENRY enters Left.)

  INSPECTOR. Good morning, Sir Henry.

  SIR HENRY. (Crossing to Left of the sofa) Good morning, Inspector.

  SERGEANT. Good morning, sir.

  (SIR HENRY nods to the SERGEANT.)

  SIR HENRY. (To the INSPECTOR) You wanted to see me?

  INSPECTOR. (Crossing to Left Centre) Yes, Sir Henry. We wanted some further information.

  SIR HENRY. Yes?

  INSPECTOR. Sir Henry, you have a considerable collection of firearms, mostly pistols and revolvers. I wanted to know if any of them are missing.

  SIR HENRY. (Sitting on the sofa at the Left end of it) I don’t quite understand. I have already told you that I took two revolvers and one pistol down to the target alley on Saturday morning, and that I subsequently found that one of them, a thirty-eight Smith and Wesson, was missing. I identified this missing revolver as the one that Mrs. Cristow was holding just after the murder.

  INSPECTOR. That is quite correct, Sir Henry. According to Mrs. Cristow’s statement, she picked it up from the floor by her husband’s body. We assumed, perhaps naturally, that that was the gun with which Doctor Cristow was shot.

  SIR HENRY. Do you mean—it wasn’t?

  INSPECTOR. We have now received the report of our ballistics expert. Sir Henry, the bullet that killed Doctor Cristow was not fired from that gun.

  SIR HENRY. You astound me.

  INSPECTOR. Yes, it’s extremely odd. The bullet was of the right calibre, but that was definitely not the gun used.

  SIR HENRY. But may I ask, Inspector, why you should assume that the murder weapon came from my collection?

  INSPECTOR. I don’t assume it, Sir Henry—but I must check up before looking elsewhere.

  SIR HENRY. (Rising and crossing to Left) Yes, I see that. Well, I can tell you what you want to know in a very few moments.

  (He exits Left.)

  SERGEANT. He doesn’t know anything.

  INSPECTOR. (Moving up Centre) So it seems. (He goes on to the terrace and stands looking off Left.)

  SERGEANT. What time’s the inquest?

  INSPECTOR. Twelve o’clock. There’s plenty of time.

  SERGEANT. Just routine evidence and an adjournment. It’s all fixed up with the Coroner, I suppose?

&
nbsp; (MIDGE enters Left. She wears her hat and coat, and carries her handbag, gloves and suitcase.)

  INSPECTOR. (Turning) Are you leaving, Miss Harvey?

  MIDGE. (Crossing to Centre) I have to get up to town immediately after the inquest.

  INSPECTOR. (Moving to Right of MIDGE) I’m afraid I must ask you not to leave here today.

  MIDGE. But that’s very awkward. You see, I work in a dress shop. And if I’m not back by two thirty there’ll be an awful to-do.

  INSPECTOR. I’m sorry, Miss Harvey. You can say you are acting on police instructions.

  MIDGE. That won’t go down very well, I can tell you. (She crosses below the sofa to the writing table, puts her handbag and gloves on it and stands the case on the floor above the writing table.) Oh well, I suppose I’d better ring up now and get it over. (She lifts the telephone receiver. Into the telephone.) Hullo . . .

  (The voice of the OPERATOR is reasonably audible.)

  OPERATOR. Number please.

  MIDGE. Regent four-six-nine-two, please.

  OPERATOR. What is your number?

  MIDGE. Dowfield two-two-one.

  (The INSPECTOR eases to Left of the sofa and looks at the SERGEANT.)

  OPERATOR. Dowfield two-two-one. There’s a twenty-minute delay on the line.

  MIDGE. Oh!

  OPERATOR. Shall I keep the call in?

  MIDGE. Yes, keep the call in, please. You’ll ring me?

  OPERATOR. Yes.

  MIDGE. Thank you. (She replaces the receiver.)

  (SIR HENRY enters Left.)

  SIR HENRY. Do you mind leaving us, Midge?

  MIDGE. Of course—but I’m expecting a call. (She picks up her suitcase and crosses to Left.)

  SIR HENRY. I’ll give you a hail when it comes through, unless they forget all about it.

  (MIDGE exits Left. SIR HENRY closes the door behind her.)

  (He crosses to Left of the INSPECTOR.) A second thirty-eight Smith and Wesson exhibit in a brown leather holster is missing from my study.

  INSPECTOR. (Taking a revolver from his pocket) Would it be this gun, Sir Henry?

  (SIR HENRY, surprised, takes the revolver from the INSPECTOR and carefully examines it.)

  SIR HENRY. Yes—yes, this is it. Where did you find it?

  INSPECTOR. That doesn’t matter for the moment. But the shot that killed Doctor Cristow was fired from that gun. May I speak to your butler, Sir Henry? (He holds out his hand for the revolver.)

  SIR HENRY. (Handing the revolver to the INSPECTOR) Of course. (He turns, crosses to the fireplace and presses the bell-push.) Do you want to speak to him in here?

  INSPECTOR. (Putting the revolver in his pocket) If you please, Sir Henry.

  SIR HENRY. Do you want me to go away or to remain? I should prefer to remain. Gudgeon is a very old and valued servant.

  INSPECTOR. I would prefer you to be here, Sir Henry.

  (GUDGEON enters Left.)

  GUDGEON. You rang, Sir Henry?

  SIR HENRY. Yes, Gudgeon. (He indicates the INSPECTOR.)

  (GUDGEON looks politely at the INSPECTOR.)

  INSPECTOR. Gudgeon, have you lately had a pistol or a revolver in your possession?

  (SIR HENRY sits in the armchair Left centre)

  GUDGEON. (Crossing to Left of the INSPECTOR; imperturbably) I don’t think so, sir. I don’t own any firearms.

  SERGEANT. (Reading from his notebook) “I happened to glance over the banisters and I saw Mr. Gudgeon standing in the front hall with a revolver—

  (GUDGEON reacts by clenching his fists.)

  —in his hand and he looked ever so peculiar . . .”

  (The INSPECTOR looks at the SERGEANT, who breaks off abruptly.)

  GUDGEON. That is quite correct, sir. I’m sorry it slipped my memory.

  INSPECTOR. Perhaps you will tell us exactly what occurred.

  GUDGEON. Certainly, sir. It was about one o’clock on Saturday. Normally, of course, I should have been bringing in luncheon, but owing to a murder having taken place a short time before, household routine was disorganized. As I was passing through the front hall, I noticed one of Sir Henry’s pistols, a small Derringer it was, sir, lying on the oak chest there. I didn’t think it should be left lying about, so I picked it up and subsequently took it to the master’s study and put it back in its proper place. I may add, sir, that I have no recollection of having looked peculiar.

  INSPECTOR. (Moving to Right of the sofa) You say you put the gun in Sir Henry’s study? (He moves below the sofa and faces up stage.) Is it there now?

  GUDGEON. To the best of my belief, sir. I can easily ascertain.

  INSPECTOR. (Moving to Left of the sofa and taking the revolver from his pocket) It wasn’t—this gun?

  GUDGEON. (Moving in to Left of the INSPECTOR and looking at the revolver) On no, sir. That’s a thirty-eight Smith and Wesson—this was a small pistol—a Derringer.

  INSPECTOR. You seem to know a good deal about firearms.

  GUDGEON. I served in the nineteen-fourteen-eighteen war, sir.

  INSPECTOR. (Turning and moving down Right) And you say you found this Derringer pistol—on the oak chest in the hall?

  GUDGEON. Yes, sir.

  (LADY ANGKATELL enters up Centre from Left. The INSPECTOR eases above the Right end of the sofa.)

  LADY ANGKATELL. (Moving Centre) How nice to see you, Mr. Colquhoun. What is all this about a pistol and Gudgeon? I found that child Doris in floods of tears. The girl was quite right to say what she saw if she thought she saw it. I find right and wrong bewildering myself—easy when wrong is pleasant and right is unpleasant—but confusing the other way about, if you know what I mean. And what have you been telling them about this pistol, Gudgeon?

  GUDGEON. (Respectfully but emphatically) I found the pistol in the hall, m’lady. I have no idea who put it there. I picked it up and put it back in its proper place. That is what I have told the Inspector and he quite understands.

  LADY ANGKATELL. (Gently shaking her head at GUDGEON) You shouldn’t have done that, Gudgeon. I’ll talk to the Inspector myself.

  GUDGEON. But . . .

  LADY ANGKATELL. I appreciate your motives, Gudgeon. I know you always try to save us trouble and annoyance. (Firmly) That will do now.

  (GUDGEON hesitates, throws a quick glance at SIR HENRY, then bows and exits Left. SIR HENRY looks very grave.)

  (She crosses to the sofa, sits and smiles disarmingly at the INSPECTOR.)

  That was really very charming of Gudgeon. Quite feudal, if you know what I mean. Yes, feudal is the right word.

  INSPECTOR. Am I to understand, Lady Angkatell, that you yourself have some further knowledge about the matter?

  LADY ANGKATELL. Of course. Gudgeon didn’t find the gun in the hall at all. He found it when he took the eggs out.

  INSPECTOR. The eggs?

  LADY ANGKATELL. Yes, out of the basket. (She seems to think all is now explained.)

  SIR HENRY. You must tell us a little more, my dear. Inspector Colquhoun and I are still at sea.

  LADY ANGKATELL. Oh! The gun, you see, was in the basket—

  (SIR HENRY rises.)

  —under the eggs.

  INSPECTOR. What basket? And what eggs, Lady Angkatell?

  LADY ANGKATELL. The basket I took down to the farm. The gun was in it and I put the eggs in on top of the gun and forgot about it. When we found poor John Cristow shot in here, it was such a shock that I let go the basket and Gudgeon caught it just in time—because of the eggs.

  (SIR HENRY moves slowly to the fireplace.)

  Later I asked him about writing the date on the eggs—so that one shouldn’t eat the fresh ones before the old ones—and he said all that had already been attended to—and I remember now he was rather emphatic about it. He found the gun, you see, and put it back in Henry’s study. Very nice and loyal of him—but also very foolish, because, of course, Inspector, the truth is what you want to hear, isn’t it?

  INSPECTOR. (Crossing above the sofa to Centre, grimly) The trut
h is what I mean to get.

  LADY ANGKATELL. Of course. It’s all so sad, all this hounding people.

  (The INSPECTOR moves to Left of the sofa.)

  I don’t suppose whoever it was that shot John Cristow really meant to shoot him—

  (The INSPECTOR and the SERGEANT look at each other.)

  —not seriously I mean. If it was Gerda, I’m quite sure she didn’t. In fact, I’m rather surprised she didn’t miss—it’s the sort of thing one would expect of her.

  (The INSPECTOR crosses above the sofa to Right.)

  If she did shoot him, she’s probably dreadfully sorry about it now. It’s bad enough for children having their father murdered, without having their mother hanged for it. (Accusingly) I sometimes wonder if you policemen think of these things.

  INSPECTOR. (Crossing below the sofa to Left of it; taken aback) We are not contemplating making an arrest just at present, Lady Angkatell.

  LADY ANGKATELL. (With a dazzling smile) Well, that’s sensible. But I have always felt that you are a very sensible man, Mr. Colquhoun.

  INSPECTOR. Er—thank you, Lady Angkatell. (He breaks up Centre and turns.) Now I want to get this clear. (He moves down Left Centre.) You had been shooting with this revolver?

  LADY ANGKATELL. Pistol.

  INSPECTOR. Ah yes, so Gudgeon said. You had been shooting with it at the targets?

  LADY ANGKATELL. Oh, no, no. I took it out of Henry’s study before I went to the farm.

  INSPECTOR. (Looking at SIR HENRY and then at the armchair Left Centre) May I?

  (SIR HENRY nods.)

  (He sits.) Why, Lady Angkatell?

  LADY ANGKATELL. (With unexpected triumph) I knew you’d ask me that. And of course there must be some answer. (She looks at SIR HENRY.) Mustn’t there, Henry?

  SIR HENRY. I should certainly have thought so, my dear.

  LADY ANGKATELL. Yes, obviously I must have had some idea in my head when I took that little Derringer and put it in my egg basket. (She looks hopefully at SIR HENRY.) I wonder what it could have been?

  SIR HENRY. My wife is extremely absentminded, Inspector.

  INSPECTOR. So it seems.

  LADY ANGKATELL. Why should I have taken that pistol?

  INSPECTOR. (Rising and breaking up Centre) I haven’t the faintest idea, Lady Angkatell.