NEVILE. The truth? You mean . . . ?
ROYDE. I mean the truth about Audrey and Adrian. (He turns to Battle.) I’m sorry, Superintendent, but you’ve got your facts wrong. Strange didn’t leave Audrey for another woman. She left him. She ran away with my brother Adrian. Then Adrian was killed in a car accident on his way to meet her. Strange behaved very decently to Audrey. He arranged for her to divorce him and agreed to take the blame.
NEVILE. I didn’t want her name dragged through the mud. I didn’t know anyone knew.
ROYDE. Adrian wrote to me and told me all about it just before he was killed. (To Battle.) You see, that knocks your motive out, doesn’t it? (He moves up R. C.) Audrey has no cause to hate Strange. On the contrary, she has every reason to be grateful to him.
NEVILE. (Rising; eagerly.) Royde’s right. He’s right. That cuts out the motive. Audrey can’t have done it. (Kay enters quickly by the French windows. Latimer slowly follows Kay on and stands down R.)
KAY. She did. She did. Of course she did.
NEVILE. (Angrily.) Have you been listening?
KAY. Of course I have. And Audrey did it, I tell you. I’ve known she did it all the time. (To Nevile.) Don’t you understand? She tried to get you hanged.
NEVILE. (Crossing to R. of Battle.) You won’t go through with it—not now?
BATTLE. (Slowly.) I seem to have been wrong—about the motive. But there’s still the money.
KAY. (Moving below the chaise.) What money?
BATTLE. (Crossing below Nevile to L. of Kay.) Fifty thousand pounds comes to Mrs. Audrey Strange at Lady Tressilian’s death.
KAY. (Dumbfounded.) To Audrey? To me. The money comes to Nevile and his wife. I’m his wife. Half the money comes to me. (Nevile moves slowly down L.)
BATTLE. I am informed—definitely—that the money was left in trust for Nevile Strange and “his wife Audrey Strange.” She gets it, not you. (He makes a sign to Leach. Leach exits quickly L. Royde crosses slowly and stands up L.)
KAY. (With a step towards Nevile.) But you told me—you let me think . . .
NEVILE. (Mechanically.) I thought you knew. We—I get fifty thousand. Isn’t that enough? (He moves to L. of the chaise.)
BATTLE. Apart from all questions of motive, facts are facts. The facts point to her being guilty. (Kay sits on the chaise.)
NEVILE. All the facts showed that I was guilty yesterday.
BATTLE. (Slightly taken aback.) That’s true. (He moves a little up C.) But are you seriously asking me to believe that there’s someone who hates both of you? Someone who, if the plan failed against you, laid a second trail to Audrey Strange? Can you think of anyone who hates both you and your former wife sufficiently for that?
NEVILE. (Crushed.) No—no.
KAY. Of course Audrey did it. She planned it . . .(Audrey enters L. She moves like a sleepwalker. Leach follows her on.)
AUDREY. (Moving up L. C.) You wanted me, Superintendent? (Royde moves quietly behind Audrey. Nevile faces Audrey, his back to the audience.)
BATTLE. (Becoming very official.) Audrey Strange, I arrest you on the charge of murdering Camilla Tressilian on Thursday last, September the twenty-first. I must caution you that anything you say will be written down and may be used in evidence at your trial. (Kay rises and moves to Latimer. Leach takes a notebook and pencil from his pocket, and stands waiting. Audrey stares straight at Nevile as though hypnotized.)
AUDREY. So—it’s come at last—it’s come.
NEVILE. (Turning away.) Where’s Treves? Don’t say anything. I’m going to find Treves. (Nevile exits by the French windows. Off. Calling.) Mr. Treves. (Audrey sways and Royde holds her.)
AUDREY. Oh—there’s no escape—no escape. (To Royde.) Dear Thomas, I’m so glad—it’s all over—all over. (She looks at Battle.) I’m quite ready. (Leach writes down Audrey’s words. Battle is impassive. The others stare at Audrey, stupefied. Battle makes a sign to Leach, who opens the door L. Audrey turns and exits slowly L., followed by Battle and the others. The lights fade to Black-Out as—)
THE CURTAIN FALLS
Scene II
SCENE: The same. The same evening.
When the curtain rises the windows and curtains are closed and the room is in darkness. Nevile is standing down L. He crosses to the French windows, draws the curtains, opens the windows to get some air, then moves above the chaise. The door L. opens and a shaft of light illuminates Nevile. Treves enters down L.
TREVES. Ah, Nevile. (He switches on the lights, closes the door and moves L. C.)
NEVILE. (Quickly and eagerly.) Did you see Audrey?
TREVES. Yes, I’ve just left her.
NEVILE. How is she? Has she got everything she wants? I tried to see her this afternoon, but they wouldn’t let me.
TREVES. (Sitting in the armchair L. C.) She doesn’t wish to see anybody at present.
NEVILE. Poor darling. She must be feeling awful. We’ve got to get her out of it.
TREVES. I am doing everything that’s possible, Nevile.
NEVILE. (Moving down R.) The whole thing’s an appalling mistake. Nobody in their right senses would ever believe that Audrey would be capable—(He moves R. of the chaise, then stands up R. C.) of killing anyone—like that.
TREVES. (Warningly.) The evidence is very strong against her.
NEVILE. I don’t care a damn for the evidence.
TREVES. I’m afraid the police are more practical.
NEVILE. You don’t believe it, do you? You don’t believe . . .
TREVES. I don’t know what to believe. Audrey has always been—an enigma.
NEVILE. (Sitting on the chaise.) Oh, nonsense! She’s always been sweet and gentle.
TREVES. She has always appeared so, certainly.
NEVILE. Appeared so? She is. Audrey and—and violence of any sort just don’t go together. Only a muddle-headed fool like Battle would believe otherwise.
TREVES. Battle is far from being a muddle-headed fool, Nevile. I have always found him particularly shrewd.
NEVILE. Well, he hasn’t proved himself very shrewd over this. (He rises and moves up R.) Good God, you don’t agree with him, do you? You can’t believe this utterly stupid and fantastic story—that Audrey planned all this to—to get back on me for marrying Kay. It’s too absurd.
TREVES. Is it? Love turns to hate very easily, you know, Nevile.
NEVILE. But she had no reason to hate me. (He moves R. C.) That motive was exploded when I told them about—about Adrian.
TREVES. I must confess that that was a surprise to me. I was always under the impression that you left Audrey.
NEVILE. I let everybody think so, of course. What else could I do? It’s always so much worse for the woman—she’d have had to face the whole wretched business alone—with all the gossip and—and mud-slinging. I couldn’t let her do that.
TREVES. It was very—generous of you, Nevile.
NEVILE. (Sitting on the chaise.) Anybody would have done the same. Besides, in a way, it was my fault.
TREVES. Why?
NEVILE. Well—I’d met Kay, you see—while we were at Cannes—and I—I admit I was attracted. I flirted with her—in a harmless sort of way, and Audrey got annoyed.
TREVES. You mean she was jealous?
NEVILE. Well—yes, I think so.
TREVES. (Rising.) If that was the case she couldn’t have been—really—in love with Adrian.
NEVILE. I don’t think she was.
TREVES. Then she left you for Adrian in a fit of pique—because she resented your—er—attentions to Kay?
NEVILE. Something like that.
TREVES. (Moving to L. of Nevile.) If that was the case, the original motive still holds good.
NEVILE. What do you mean?
TREVES. If Audrey was in love with you—if she only ran away with Adrian in a fit of pique—then she might still have hated you for marrying Kay.
NEVILE. (Sharply.) No! She never hated me. She was very understanding about the whole thing.
TREVE
S. Outwardly—perhaps. What was she like underneath?
NEVILE. (Rising, almost in a whisper.) You believe she did it, don’t you? You believe she killed Camilla—in that horrible way? (He pauses and crosses to the armchair L. C.) It wasn’t Audrey. I’ll swear it wasn’t Audrey. I know her, I tell you. I lived with her for four years—you can’t do that and be mistaken in a person. But if you think she’s guilty, what hope is there?
TREVES. I’ll give you my candid opinion, Nevile. I don’t think there is any hope. I shall brief the best possible counsel, of course, but there’s very little case for the defence. Except insanity. I doubt if we’ll get very far with that. (Nevile drops into the armchair L. C. and covers his face with his hands.)
NEVILE. (Almost inaudibly.) Oh, God! (Mary enters L. She is very quiet and clearly under strain.)
MARY. (Not realizing that Nevile is there.) Mr. Treves! (She sees Nevile.) Er—there are sandwiches in the dining room when anyone wants them. (She moves to L. of Nevile.)
NEVILE. (Turning away.) Sandwiches!
TREVES. (Moving up R. C.; mildly.) Life has to go on, Nevile.
NEVILE. (To Mary.) Do you think she did it, Mary?
MARY. (After a definite pause.) No. (She takes Nevile’s hand.)
NEVILE. Thank God somebody besides me believes in her. (Kay enters by the French windows.)
KAY. (Moving to R. of the chaise.) Ted’s just coming. He’s running the car round into the drive. I came up through the garden.
NEVILE. (Rising and moving above the chaise.) What’s Latimer coming here for? Can’t he keep away for five minutes?
TREVES. I sent for him, Nevile. Kay very kindly took the message. I also asked Battle to come. I would prefer not to explain in detail. Let us say, Nevile, that I am trying out a last forlorn hope.
NEVILE. To save Audrey?
TREVES. Yes.
KAY. (To Nevile.) Can’t you think of anything else but Audrey?
NEVILE. No, I can’t. (Kay moves to the easy chair down R. Latimer enters by the French windows and crosses to R. of Treves.)
LATIMER. I came as quickly as I could, Mr. Treves. Kay didn’t say what you wanted me for, only that it was urgent.
KAY. (Sitting in the easy chair down R.) I said what I was told to say. I haven’t the faintest idea what it’s all about.
MARY. (Crossing to the chaise and sitting.) We’re all in the dark, Kay. As you heard, Mr. Treves is trying to help Audrey.
KAY. Audrey, Audrey, Audrey. It’s always Audrey. I suppose she’ll haunt us for the rest of our lives.
NEVILE. (Moving down R. of the chaise.) That’s a beastly thing to say, Kay.
LATIMER. (Angrily.) Can’t you see that her nerves are all in shreds?
NEVILE. So are everybody’s. (Latimer moves and stands above Kay. Royde enters L.)
ROYDE. Superintendent Battle is here. (To Treves.) He says he’s expected.
TREVES. Bring him in. (Royde turns and beckons off. Battle enters L.)
BATTLE. Good evening. (He looks enquiringly at Treves.)
TREVES. (Moving down C.) Thank you for coming, Superintendent. It is good of you to spare the time.
NEVILE. (Bitterly.) Especially when you’ve got your victim.
TREVES. I don’t think that kind of remark is going to get us anywhere, Nevile. Battle has only done his duty as a police officer.
NEVILE. (Moving up R.) I’m—I’m sorry, Battle.
BATTLE. That’s all right, sir.
TREVES. (Indicating the easy chair L. C.) Sit down, Battle.
BATTLE. (Sitting in the easy chair L. C.) Thank you, sir.
TREVES. Mr. Royde said something to me the other day, Battle, that I’ve thought about a great deal since.
ROYDE. (Surprised.) I did?
TREVES. Yes, Thomas. You were talking about a detective story you were reading. You said that they all begin in the wrong place. The murder should not be the beginning of the story but the end. And, of course, you were right. A murder is the culmination of a lot of different circumstances, all converging at a given moment at a given point. Rather fancifully you called it Zero Hour.
ROYDE. I remember.
NEVILE. (Impatiently.) What’s this got to do with Audrey?
TREVES. A great deal—it’s Zero Hour now. (There is a rather uncomfortable pause.)
MARY. But Lady Tressilian was murdered three days ago.
TREVES. It is not exactly Lady Tressilian’s murder that I am talking about now. There are different kinds of murder. Superintendent Battle, when I put it to you, will you allow that all the evidence against Audrey Strange could have been faked? The weapon taken from her fender. Her gloves, stained with blood, and hidden in the ivy outside her window. Her face powder, dusted on the inside of Nevile’s dinner jacket. Hairs from her brush placed there as well?
BATTLE. (Stirring uncomfortably.) I suppose it could have been done, but . . .
KAY. But she admitted she was guilty—herself—when you arrested her.
ROYDE. (Moving down L.) No, she didn’t.
KAY. She said that she couldn’t escape.
MARY. She said that she was glad it was all over.
KAY. What more do you want? (Treves holds up a hand. They subside. Nevile crosses slowly and stands on the L. end of the rostrum.)
TREVES. (Moving to C. of the rostrum.) Do you remember, Thomas, that when the Superintendent here was questioning you as to what you had heard on the night of the murder, you mentioned rats? Rats in the attic—over your head?
ROYDE. (Sitting in the easy chair down L.) Yes.
TREVES. That remark of yours interested me. I went up to the attic floor—I will admit, with no very clear idea in my head. The attic directly over your bedroom, Thomas, is used as a lumber room. It is full of what may be termed junk. Unwanted junk. There was heavy dust over everything except one thing. (He crosses to the bureau.) But there was one thing that was not covered with dust. (He takes out a long coil of thin rope which has been concealed in the corner R. of the bureau.) This. (He crosses to R. of Battle. Battle takes the rope. His eyebrows rise in surprise.)
BATTLE. It’s damp.
TREVES. Yes, it’s still damp. No dust on it—and damp. Thrown into the lumber room where someone thought it would never be noticed.
BATTLE. Are you going to tell us, sir, what it means? (He returns the rope to Treves.)
TREVES. (Moving on to the rostrum) It means that during the storm on the night of the murder, that rope was hanging from one of the windows of this house. Hanging from a window down to the water below. (He tosses the rope on to the coffee table.) You said, Superintendent, that no one could have entered this house to commit murder from outside that night. That isn’t quite true. Someone could have entered from outside—(Latimer moves very slowly above the chaise.) if this rope was hanging ready for them to climb up from the estuary.
BATTLE. You mean someone came from the other side? The Easterhead side?
TREVES. Yes. (He turns to Nevile.) You went over on the ten-thirty-five ferry. You must have got to the Easterhead Bay Hotel at about a quarter to eleven—but you weren’t able to find Mr. Latimer for some time, were you? (Latimer makes a move as though to speak, then stops himself.)
NEVILE. No, that’s true. I looked all around, too. He wasn’t in his room—they telephoned up.
LATIMER. Actually, I was sitting out on the glass-enclosed terrace with a fat, talkative body from Lancashire. (Easily.) She wanted to dance—but I stalled her off. Too painful on the feet.
TREVES. (Moving C.) Strange wasn’t able to find you until half past eleven. Three-quarters of an hour. Plenty of time. . . .
LATIMER. Look here, what do you mean?
NEVILE. Do you mean that he . . . ? (Kay shows every sign of violent agitation, rises and moves to Latimer.)
TREVES. Plenty of time to strip, swim across the estuary—it’s narrow just here—swarm up the rope—do what you had to do—swim back, get into your clothes and meet Nevile in the lounge of the hotel.
&nb
sp; LATIMER. Leaving the rope hanging from the window? You’re crazy—the whole thing’s crazy.
TREVES. (With a slight glance towards Kay.) The same person who arranged the rope for you could have drawn it up again and put it in the attic.
LATIMER. (Frenzied.) You can’t do this to me. You can’t frame me—and don’t you try. I couldn’t climb up a rope all that way—and anyway, I can’t swim. I tell you, I can’t swim.
KAY. No, Ted can’t swim. It’s true, I tell you, he can’t swim.
TREVES. (Gently.) No, you can’t swim. I have ascertained that fact. (He moves on to the rostrum. Kay moves down. To Nevile.) But you’re a very fine swimmer, aren’t you, Nevile? And you’re an expert climber. It would be child’s play to you to swim across, climb up the rope you’d left ready—(Latimer moves R. of the chaise.) go along to Lady Tressilian’s room, kill her, and go back the way you came. Plenty of time to dispose of the rope when you got back at two-thirty. You didn’t see Latimer at the hotel between ten-forty-five and eleven-thirty—but he didn’t see you either. It cuts both ways. (Battle rises and stands in front of the door L.)
NEVILE. I never heard such rubbish! Swim across—kill Camilla. Why ever should I do such a fantastic thing?
TREVES. Because you wanted to hang the woman who had left you for another man. (Kay collapses in the easy chair down R. Mary rises, moves to Kay and comforts her. Royde rises and moves to L. of the armchair L. C.) She had to be punished—your ego has been swelling for a long time—nobody must dare to oppose you.
NEVILE. Is it likely I’d fake all those clues against myself?
TREVES. (Crossing to L. of Nevile.) It’s exactly what you did do—and took the precaution of ringing Lady Tressilian’s bell by pulling the old-fashioned bell wire outside her room, to make sure that Mary would see you leaving the house. Lady Tressilian didn’t remember ringing that bell. You rang it.
NEVILE. (Moving to the French windows.) What an absurd pack of lies. (Leach appears at the French windows.)
TREVES. You murdered Lady Tressilian—but the real murder, the murder that you gloated over secretly, was the murder of Audrey Strange. You wanted her not only to die—but to suffer. You wanted her to be afraid—she was afraid—of you. You enjoyed the idea of her suffering, didn’t you?