The Mousetrap

CHRISTOPHER. It’s not true—it’s not true! You’re all against me. Everyone’s always been against me. You’re going to frame me for a murder. It’s persecution, (Crossing to Left of MAJOR METCALF) that’s what it is—persecution.

(GILES follows him but pauses at the Left end of the refectory table.)

MAJORMETCALF. (Rising; kindly) Steady, lad, steady. (He patsCHRISTOPHERon the shoulder, then he takes out his pipe.)

MOLLIE. (Rising and moving up to Left ofCHRISTOPHER) It’s all right, Chris. Nobody’s against you. (To TROTTER) Tell him it’s all right.

TROTTER. (Looking atGILES; stolidly) We don’t frame people.

MOLLIE. (ToTROTTER) Tell him you’re not going to arrest him.

TROTTER. (Moving to Left ofMOLLIE; stolidly) I’m not arresting anyone. To do that, I’ve got to have evidence. I haven’t got any evidence—yet.

(CHRISTOPHER moves to the fire.)

GILES. I think you’re crazy, Mollie. (Moving up Centre. To TROTTER) And you, too! There’s just one person who fits the bill and, if only as a safety measure, he ought to be put under arrest. It’s only fair to the rest of us.

MOLLIE. Wait, Giles, wait. Sergeant Trotter, can I—can I speak to you a minute?

TROTTER. Certainly, Mrs. Ralston. Will the rest of you go into the dining room, please.

(The others rise and move down Right to the door: first MISS CASEWELL, then MR. PARAVICINI, protesting, followed by CHRISTOPHER and MAJOR METCALF, who pauses to light his pipe. MAJOR METCALF becomes aware of being stared at. They all exit.)

GILES. I’m staying.

MOLLIE. No, Giles, you, too, please.

GILES. (Furious) I’m staying. I don’t know what’s come over you, Mollie.

MOLLIE. Please.

(GILES exits after the others down Right, leaving the door open. MOLLIE shuts it. TROTTER moves to the arch up Right.)

TROTTER. Yes, Mrs. Ralston, (Moving above the armchair Centre) what is it you want to say to me?

MOLLIE. (Moving up to Left ofTROTTER) Sergeant Trotter, you think that this—(She moves below the sofa) this crazy killer must be the—eldest of those three boys at the Farm—but you don’t know that, do you?

TROTTER. We don’t actually know a thing. All we’ve got so far is that the woman who joined with her husband in ill-treating and starving those children has been killed, and that the woman magistrate who was responsible for placing them there has been killed. (He moves down to Right of the sofa.) The telephone wire that links me with police headquarters has been cut . . .

MOLLIE. You don’t even know that. It may have been just the snow.

TROTTER. No, Mrs. Ralston, the line was deliberately cut. It was cut just outside by the front door. I found the place.

MOLLIE. (Shaken) I see.

TROTTER. Sit down, Mrs. Ralston.

MOLLIE. (Sitting on the sofa) But, all the same, you don’t know . . .

TROTTER. (Moving in a circle Left above the sofa and then Right below it) I’m going by probability. It all points one way; mental instability, childish mentality, desertion from the Army and the psychiatrist’s report.

MOLLIE. Oh, I know, and therefore it all seems to point to Christopher. But I don’t believe it is Christopher. There must be other possibilities.

TROTTER. (Right of the sofa; turning to her) Such as?

MOLLIE. (Hesitating) Well—hadn’t those children any relations at all?

TROTTER. The mother was a drunk. She died soon after the children were taken away from her.

MOLLIE. What about their father?

TROTTER. He was an Army sergeant, serving abroad. If he’s alive, he’s probably discharged from the Army by now.

MOLLIE. You don’t know where he is now?

TROTTER. We’ve no information. To trace him may take some time, but I can assure you, Mrs. Ralston, that the police take every eventuality into account.

MOLLIE. But you don’t know where he may be at this minute, and if the son is mentally unstable, the father may have been unstable, too.

TROTTER. Well, it’s a possibility.