The Mousetrap and Other Plays Read online

  RAYMOND. We shouldn’t have let it happen.

  SARAH. My dear, you hadn’t any choice. She started in on you as young children. Believe me, I do know what I’m talking about.

  (They lean on the downstage side of the table.)

  RAYMOND. My learned physician.

  SARAH. (Anxiously) You don’t mind my being a doctor, do you?

  RAYMOND. Of course not, darling. Who am I to mind?

  SARAH. Well, I rather imagined you were going to be my husband—but, of course, you haven’t really asked me.

  RAYMOND. Sarah. (He catches at her.)

  (SARAH eludes RAYMOND. NADINE and LENNOX enter Right. They look quietly happy.)

  NADINE. Oh, there you are, Sarah. I wanted to see you. I have been talking to Doctor Gerard about Ginevra.

  SARAH. Yes?

  NADINE. We are arranging for her to go into his clinic near Paris for treatment.

  SARAH. Yes, indeed. Doctor Gerard is absolutely at the top of the tree as a psychiatrist. You couldn’t have a better man. He’s absolutely first-class.

  NADINE. He tells us that she will be absolutely all right—a perfectly normal girl.

  SARAH. I think so, too. There’s nothing fundamentally in the least wrong with Jinny. It was sheer escapism that was driving her into fantasy. But fortunately it’s not too late.

  NADINE. No, it’s not too late. (She looks up at the cave mouth.) The shadow’s gone.

  LENNOX. It’s like waking up from a dream.

  NADINE. One just doesn’t believe it can be true.

  RAYMOND. But it is. She can’t harm us now. She can’t stop us from doing what we want.

  (SARAH and RAYMOND move slowly up Centre during the following speech.)

  (Seriously) Look here, Sarah, I’ve got to do something with my life. I’ve got to work at something—something that matters. And I don’t even know what capabilities I’ve got—I don’t know what I can do—I don’t even know if I’ve got any brains at all.

  (SARAH and RAYMOND exit up Left.)

  LENNOX. (Catching NADINE’s hand) Nadine. You aren’t going to leave me?

  NADINE. You think not?

  LENNOX. I shan’t let you go.

  NADINE. Why did you never say that before?

  LENNOX. Why? Why? I can’t imagine. (He crosses to Left.) What’s been the matter with me? Why couldn’t I feel like I feel today? How did she do it? Why did she have that effect on me—on all of us? Just an ordinary, rather tyrannical old woman.

  NADINE. No, Lennox, she was more than that. She had—(Gropingly) power. There is such a thing as positive Evil. We’ve seen it in the world—working on nations. This was a small private instance that happened in a family—but it’s the same thing—a lust for power, a delight in cruelty and torture . . . (She breaks off.)

  LENNOX. (Tenderly) Nadine—my dear. It’s all over. We’ve escaped.

  NADINE. Yes, we’ve escaped. She can’t harm us now.

  (COLONEL CARBERY enters on the rock from Right. He is a tall, middle-aged Englishman in uniform. He has a vacant face and seems the huntin’, shootin’ and fishin’ type, but every now and then shows disturbing shrewdness. He is carrying a small sheaf of papers. He examines the stools on the rock, looks into the cave and makes some notes. The DRAGOMAN enters from the marquee.)

  DRAGOMAN. (Crossing to Left Centre) Good morning, sir and lady. I hope you sleep well in spite of sad and tragic occurrence. Very old lady, heat too much for her. You try not grieve too much. You have very fine funeral in Jerusalem—very nice cemetery there, very expensive. I take you to high-class monumental shop, have very nice memorial. You have big stone angel with wings? Or big slab Jerusalem stone and very fine text from Bible. My friend he make you very special price if I ask him. He very big man—all best dead people go to him.

  NADINE. (Indicating CARBERY) Who is that up there?

  DRAGOMAN. That Colonel Carbery. Carbery Pasha. Big man Transjordania. He head of Transjordanian police.

  (CARBERY exits up Right.)

  NADINE. (Sharply) Police.

  DRAGOMAN. (Smiling) I send policeman off last night—made report. Any death got to be reported.

  LENNOX. Eh? Oh, yes, of course.

  DRAGOMAN. So Carbery Pasha he come himself, arrange everything. (He beams.) All ver’ official and first-class.

  LENNOX. (Slowly) I think—I ought to go and speak to him.

  NADINE. Yes—yes. I’ll come with you.

  (LENNOX and NADINE cross and exit Right. HIGGS strolls on from the marquee.)

  HIGGS. Ee, what’s to do?

  DRAGOMAN. Make arrangements take back old lady’s body. Get horses for others. We leave camp this afternoon.

  HIGGS. We do, do we? Ee, lad, I paid down me money for four days. I’ll want a rebate on that.

  DRAGOMAN. Very sad circumstances alter cases.

  HIGGS. Ee, I’ve not noticed anybody looking sad.

  (LADY WESTHOLME and MISS PRYCE enter Right. LADY WESTHOLME crosses to Centre.)

  (To LADY WESTHOLME) This chap says we’re going back this afternoon.

  DRAGOMAN. (Moving between LADY WESTHOLME and MISS PRYCE) I take you two ladies and gentleman nice walk this morning. Show you interesting architecture and more maiden hairyfern. You see best of Petra before you go back.

  LADY WESTHOLME. I think it would be extremely bad taste to go on an expedition this morning.

  DRAGOMAN. (Concerned) Something you eat taste bad? You tell Abraham. Abraham scold cook.

  HIGGS. No use kicking our heels here. Might as well do a bit of sightseeing. Coom on. (He moves to Left of LADY WESTHOLME and takes her arm.)

  (LADY WESTHOLME jerks her arm away.)

  You like your money’s worth as well as another, I’ll bet you do and all.

  LADY WESTHOLME. Kindly allow me to know my own mind, Mr. Higgs.

  DRAGOMAN. (Nudging LADY WESTHOLME) Very nice expedition—

  (LADY WESTHOLME glares at the DRAGOMAN.)

  —(Coaxingly) Very antique. Two hundred B.C. before Christ.

  LADY WESTHOLME. No, Mahommed.

  DRAGOMAN. Very nice expedition. Not difficult climb. Not get tired at all.

  LADY WESTHOLME. I am never tired.

  HIGGS. Well, if you ask me, I think it’s just ploom foolishness not to see all we can. We’ve paid our money, ’aven’t we?

  LADY WESTHOLME. Unfortunately, yes. But there are certain decencies to be respected, though I am sure that it’s no good my attempting to explain them to you, Mr. Higgs.

  HIGGS. You don’t think I’d understand them? I would, though. All I say is, we’ve paid our money.

  LADY WESTHOLME. (Crossing to the deckchair down Right) There is really no need to go into it again. (She sits.)

  HIGGS. It isn’t that you liked the old woman. Coom to that, nobody did. I’ve not noticed any signs of grieving in her family. Coom into a bit of brass, they ’ave, by the look of them.

  MISS PRYCE. I so often think these things are a merciful release.

  HIGGS. You bet they see it that way. And why Lady W. here should be so cut up . . .

  LADY WESTHOLME. Not at all. It is simply a question of not going off sightseeing just after a sudden and unexpected death. I have no feeling of regret. Mrs. Boynton was not even an acquaintance and I am strongly of the opinion that she drank.

  MISS PRYCE. (To LADY WESTHOLME) No, Arethusa. That is really a most uncharitable thing to say—and quite untrue.

  LADY WESTHOLME. Don’t be a fool, Amabel. I know alcohol when I see it.

  HIGGS. So do I. (Wistfully) Ah wouldn’t mind seein’ some now—but I suppose it’s a bit early.

  MISS PRYCE. I feel most strongly that one shouldn’t speak evil of the dead. At any rate, my lips are sealed.

  HIGGS. (To the DRAGOMAN) Hi, Abraham, ah’m coomin’ on expedition. (He crosses to MISS PRYCE) You’d best come, too.

  (MISS PRYCE really wants to go, but has one eye on LADY WESTHOLME.)

  MISS PRYCE. Well, really—I hardly know—it seems . .
.

  DRAGOMAN. I take you very nice walk. See place where Natabeans buried. Very sad—very suitable.

  MISS PRYCE. A cemetery? I really think, Arethusa, that would be quite all right.

  LADY WESTHOLME. You can do as you please, but I shall stay here.

  HIGGS. (To MISS PRYCE) Coom on then, lass.

  MISS PRYCE. I hardly know . . .

  (HIGGS takes MISS PRYCE by the arm and leads her to the slope Left.)

  HIGGS. Ee—coom on. I’ll look after yer. (He stops on the slope and turns.) And look ’ere, Abraham, I don’t want any maidenhair fern—’angin’ oop or down.

  (MISS PRYCE, HIGGS and the DRAGOMAN exit up the slope Left. CARBERY enters Right.)

  LADY WESTHOLME. Ah, Colonel Carbery, I wanted to speak to you.

  CARBERY. (Moving Right Centre) Yes, Lady Westholme?

  LADY WESTHOLME. I do hope you understand that there must be no unpleasantness about this business.

  CARBERY. (Very vague) Now what d’you mean by unpleasantness, Lady Westholme?

  LADY WESTHOLME. I am speaking diplomatically. These people are Americans. Americans are very touchy and prone to take offence. They may resent any sign of officialdom.

  CARBERY. (Mildly) Well, you know, sudden death and all that—I have my duty to do.

  LADY WESTHOLME. Quite. But the whole thing is perfectly straightforward. The heat here was intense yesterday. Radiation off these rocks. Old Mrs. Boynton was obviously in poor health. (She lowers her voice) Between ourselves, she drank.

  CARBERY. Indeed? Do you happen to know that as a fact?

  LADY WESTHOLME. I am positive of it.

  CARBERY. But you’ve no evidence—eh?

  LADY WESTHOLME. I don’t need evidence.

  CARBERY. Unfortunately, I do.

  LADY WESTHOLME. A sudden heat stroke is not in the least surprising under the circumstances.

  CARBERY. No, no. Perfectly natural thing to happen, I agree. (He moves above the table.)

  LADY WESTHOLME. So we shan’t be held up here?

  CARBERY. No, no, I assure you, Lady Westholme. Horses will be along this afternoon, and arrangements made for removing the—er—body. We can all leave together.

  (LENNOX and NADINE enter Right.)

  Sit down, Mrs. Boynton. (He indicates the chairs Right of the table for NADINE and Left of it for LENNOX.)

  (NADINE sits Right of the table, LENNOX Left of it. There is a pause.)

  (He looks at LADY WESTHOLME.) That’s all right, then, Lady Westholme.

  (LADY WESTHOLME rises and stamps off Right)

  (He watches her go, smiling to himself.) Masterful woman. (He sits above the table.) Thinks she runs the British Empire. (His manner changes.) Now, Mr. Boynton, I shall want a certain amount of details from you. (He taps his papers.) Forms, you know. Curse of our age. Don’t want to worry you more than we can help.

  NADINE. Of course, we quite understand.

  LENNOX. Yes, we understand.

  CARBERY. Deceased’s name and age?

  LENNOX. Ada Caroline Boynton. She was sixty-two.

  CARBERY. (Making notes) And her health hadn’t been too good, eh?

  NADINE. She had congestive cardiac failure. We all knew that death might occur at any moment.

  CARBERY. You put it quite professionally.

  NADINE. I—I had a certain amount of nursing training before my marriage.

  CARBERY. Oh, I see.

  LENNOX. My mother was a sick woman—a very sick woman.

  CARBERY. (Gently; with something significant in his voice) Rather a strenuous trip, this, to bring a very sick woman, wasn’t it?

  NADINE. You didn’t know my mother-in-law. She was a very determined woman. If she wanted to do a thing—(She shrugs her shoulders) well, she just did it. We had to give in.

  CARBERY. I know, I know. Awfully obstinate, some of these old people. Just won’t listen to reason. (He pauses.) You did all you could to dissuade her, I suppose?

  NADINE. (Quickly) Of course.

  CARBERY. Very distressing. (He shoots a quick sideways glance at them.) I quite realize the—er—shock—and—er—grief—it must be to you.

  LENNOX. It was a great shock, yes.

  CARBERY. Quite, quite.

  (There is a pause.)

  LENNOX. Is that all?

  CARBERY. All?

  NADINE. There are no further formalities to go through?

  CARBERY. I’ll fix up everything as far as I can. We’ve got to get back to civilization first. There will probably have to be an autopsy.

  LENNOX. (Rising; sharply) Is that necessary?

  CARBERY. Well, under the circumstances—sudden death, you know. Not being attended by a doctor.

  NADINE. But there are two doctors here in camp.

  CARBERY. (Very vague) Well, yes, that’s true, of course.

  NADINE. Surely one of them could certify the death?

  CARBERY. (Rising and moving down Left) Well, I don’t know—they weren’t exactly attending her, were they?

  NADINE. I believe Miss King did—talk to my mother-in-law about her state of health.

  CARBERY. Did she now? Well, that might help. (Sharply) You don’t like the idea of an autopsy?

  LENNOX. Frankly, no. It—it would upset us all very much.

  CARBERY. Of course I understand your feeling. Still—she was only your stepmother, wasn’t she, Mr. Boynton?

  LENNOX. No—yes . . .

  NADINE. (Rising) They were so young when their father remarried that it was like their own mother.

  CARBERY. I see. I see.

  NADINE. So you will do what you can?

  CARBERY. I’ll do what I can.

  (LENNOX and NADINE cross and exit Right.)

  (He moves above the table, raises his eyebrows and purses his lips.) I wonder now. I wonder. Interestin’.

  (RAYMOND and SARAH enter quickly from the marquee, talking. They look happy and animated.)

  Oh, Doctor King.

  SARAH. (Moving to Left of CARBERY) Yes?

  CARBERY. Just wanted a word. (He indicates the chair Left of the table.)

  (SARAH sits Left of the table.)

  (To RAYMOND) About your mother’s state of health, Mr. Boynton. Perhaps Doctor King could help us there.

  RAYMOND. (Moving to Left of SARAH) In what way?

  CARBERY. (Sitting above the table; to SARAH) I understand that you had a talk with Mrs. Boynton on the subject of her health yesterday.

  SARAH. Ye-es. It wasn’t a consultation, though.

  CARBERY. You mean she didn’t call you in?

  SARAH. No. (She pauses. Embarrassed) Actually, I spoke to her. I—I warned her.

  CARBERY. Warned her?

  SARAH. Oh—of the state of her health. I—I didn’t think she took it seriously enough.

  CARBERY. It was serious, then?

  SARAH. Yes.

  CARBERY. So you weren’t surprised when she died?

  SARAH. (Slowly) No, I wasn’t surprised—not really.

  CARBERY. Excuse me, Doctor King, but what do you mean by “not really?”

  SARAH. I just meant—that it came so soon after my warning her.

  CARBERY. What did you warn her about—tell her not to overdo it—that sort of thing?

  SARAH. (After a pause) Not quite. (With a rush) I told her I didn’t think she had very long to live.

  (CARBERY whistles.)

  CARBERY. Do you modern doctors usually say that sort of thing?

  SARAH. No. It was—quite unprofessional.

  CARBERY. But you had a reason, eh?

  SARAH. I thought—she ought to know.

  CARBERY. Well, of course, I’m no judge of medical etiquette, but . . .

  (GERARD enters quickly Right. He is upset.)

  GERARD. (Moving Right Centre) Colonel Carbery, can I speak to you?

  CARBERY. (Rising; to SARAH and RAYMOND) Would you mind?

  (SARAH rises and exits with RAYMOND to the marquee.)

  (He moves to Left of GERARD.)
Well, Doctor Gerard, what is it?

  GERARD. It is my duty, clearly my duty, to put certain facts before you. (He pauses.) I have with me a small travelling medicine case containing certain drugs.

  CARBERY. Yes?

  GERARD. This morning, on looking into it, I have discovered that one of the drugs is missing.

  CARBERY. (Sharply) What drug is it?

  GERARD. Digitoxin.

  CARBERY. Digitoxin is a heart poison, isn’t it?

  GERARD. Yes, it is obtained from Digitalis purpurea, the common foxglove. It is official in France—though not in your British Pharmacopocia.

  CARBERY. I see. (He moves Left.) What would be the effect, Doctor Gerard, of digitoxin administered to a human being? (He moves to the table.)

  GERARD. If a large dose—a lethal, not a therapeutic dose—if digitoxin were thrown suddenly on the circulation, say by intravenous injection—it would cause sudden death by palsy of the heart.

  CARBERY. And Mrs. Boynton had a weak heart?

  GERARD. Yes, as a matter of fact, she was actually taking medicine containing digitalis.

  CARBERY. Then in that case the digitoxin wouldn’t hurt her.

  GERARD. Oh, my dear sir, that is the layman speaking. There is a difference, as I have said, between a lethal dose and a therapeutic dose. Besides, digitalis may be considered a cumulative drug.

  CARBERY. That’s interesting. (He moves above the table.) What about post-mortem appearance?

  GERARD. (Significantly) The active principles of the digitalis may destroy life and leave no appreciable sign.

  CARBERY. Then she may have died of the cumulative effects of digitalis legitimately given to her. By using the same drug, it means that it would be almost impossible to prove anything satisfactorily to a jury. Yes, somebody’s been rather clever.

  GERARD. You think that?

  CARBERY. It’s very possible. Rich old woman whom nobody loves. (He pauses.) When did you last see this stuff of yours?

  GERARD. Yesterday afternoon. I had my case here. (He moves to Right of the table.) I got out some quinine for one of the natives.

  CARBERY. And you can swear that the digitoxin was there then?

  GERARD. Yes. There were no gaps.

  CARBERY. And this morning it was gone.

  GERARD. Yes. You must have a search made. If it has been thrown away . . .

  CARBERY. (Taking a small phial from his pocket) Is this it?

  GERARD. (Astonished) Yes. Where did you find it?