The Mousetrap

Well, if you’ll excuse me, we’ll both be getting on our way.

(He exits Left. The SERGEANT follows him off.)

LADYANGKATELL. (Easing to the fireplace) You and I and Gerda can go in the Daimler, and Edward can take Midge and Henrietta.

SIRHENRY. (Moving Centre) Where’s Gerda?

LADYANGKATELL. Henrietta is with her.

(EDWARD and MIDGE enter Right. MIDGE picks up her bag and gloves from the writing table, and moves below the sofa. EDWARD crosses above the sofa to Right of SIR HENRY.)

SIRHENRY. Well, what’s this I hear about you two? (He shakes hands with EDWARD.) Isn’t this wonderful news? (He crosses to Left of MIDGE and kisses her.)

EDWARD. Thank you, Henry.

MIDGE. Thank you, Cousin Henry.

LADYANGKATELL. (Looking at her gloves) Now what made me take one white glove and one grey glove? How very odd.

(She exits Left.)

EDWARD. (Moving up Centre) I’ll get my car round.

(He exits up Centre to Left.)

MIDGE. (Sitting on the sofa) Are you really pleased?

SIRHENRY. It’s the best news I’ve heard for a long time. You don’t know what it’ll mean to Lucy. She’s got Ainswick on the brain, as you know.

MIDGE. She wanted Edward to marry Henrietta. (Troubled) Will she mind that it’s me?

SIRHENRY. Of course not. She only wanted Edward to marry. If you want my opinion, you’ll make him a far better wife than Henrietta.

MIDGE. It’s always been Henrietta with Edward.

SIRHENRY. (Crossing to the fireplace) Well, don’t you let those police fellows hear you say so. (He fills his cigarette case from the box on the mantelpiece.) Best thing in the world from that point of view that he’s got engaged to you. Takes suspicion right off him.

MIDGE. (Rising) Suspicion? Off Edward?

SIRHENRY. (Turning) Counting Gerda out of it, I should say he was suspect number one. To put it bluntly, he loathed John Cristow’s guts.

MIDGE. (Crossing to Centre then moving up Left) I remember—the evening after the murder—so that’s why . . . (Her face grows desperately unhappy.)

(HENRIETTA enters Left.)

HENRIETTA. Oh, Henry, I’m taking Gerda with me. (She crosses to the drinks table and picks up her gloves and bag.) She is in rather a nervous state—and I think that one of Lucy’s conversations would just about finish her. We’re starting now.

SIRHENRY. (Moving to the door Left) Yes, we ought to be starting too.

(He exits Left, leaving the door open.)

(Off; calling.) Are you ready, Lucy?

HENRIETTA. (Putting on her gloves) Congratulations, Midge. Did you stand on a table and shout at him?

MIDGE. (Solemnly) I rather think I did.

HENRIETTA. I told you that was what Edward needed.

MIDGE. (Moving to the radio) I don’t think Edward will ever really love anyone but you.

HENRIETTA. Oh, don’t be absurd, Midge.

MIDGE. I’m not absurd. It’s the sort of thing one—knows.

HENRIETTA. Edward wouldn’t ask you to marry him unless he wanted to.

MIDGE. (Switching on the radio) He may have thought it—wise.

HENRIETTA. What do you mean?

GERDA. (Off Left; calling) Henrietta.

HENRIETTA. (Crossing to the door Left.) I’m coming, Gerda.

(She exits Left. The radio warms up and music is heard. The tune is “La Fille aux Cheveux de Lin.” MIDGE moves to the fireplace, puts her gloves on the mantelpiece and looks in the mirror. EDWARD enters up Centre from Left.)

EDWARD. (Moving Left Centre.) The car’s outside.

MIDGE. (Turning) If you don’t mind, I’ll go with Lucy.

EDWARD. But why . . . ?

MIDGE. She loses things—and flutters—I’ll be useful. (She moves down Left.)

EDWARD. (Hurt) Midge, is anything the matter? What is it?

MIDGE. (Crossing to Right) Never mind now. We must get to the inquest.

EDWARD. Something is the matter.

MIDGE. Don’t—don’t bother me.