The Mousetrap

MOLLIE. If he came home, after being a prisoner with the Japs, perhaps, and having suffered terribly—if he came home and found his wife dead and that his children had gone through some terrible experience, and one of them had died through it, he might go off his head a bit and want—revenge!

TROTTER. That’s only surmise.

MOLLIE. But it’s possible?

TROTTER. Oh yes, Mrs. Ralston, it’s quite possible.

MOLLIE. So the murderer may be middle-aged, or even old. (She pauses.) When I said the police had rung up, Major Metcalf was frightfully upset. He really was. I saw his face.

TROTTER. (Considering) Major Metcalf? (He moves to the armchair Centre and sits.)

MOLLIE. Middle-aged. A soldier. He seems quite nice and perfectly normal—but it mightn’t show, might it?

TROTTER. No, often it doesn’t show at all.

MOLLIE. (Rising and moving to Left ofTROTTER) So, it’s not only Christopher who’s a suspect. There’s Major Metcalf as well.

TROTTER. Any other suggestions?

MOLLIE. Well, Mr. Paravicini did drop the poker when I said the police had rung up.

TROTTER. Mr. Paravicini. (He appears to consider.)

MOLLIE. I know he seems quite old—and foreign and everything, but he mightn’t really be as old as he looks. He moves like a much younger man, and he’s definitely got makeup on his face. Miss Casewell noticed it, too. He might be—oh, I know it sounds very melodramatic—but he might be disguised.

TROTTER. You’re very anxious, aren’t you, that it shouldn’t be young Mr. Wren?

MOLLIE. (Moving to the fire) He seems so—helpless, somehow. (Turning to TROTTER) And so unhappy.

TROTTER. Mrs. Ralston, let me tell you something. I’ve had all possibilities in mind ever since the beginning. The boy Georgie, the father—and someone else. There was a sister, you remember.

MOLLIE. Oh—the sister?

TROTTER. (Rising and moving toMOLLIE) It could have been a woman who killed Maureen Lyon. A woman. (Moving Centre) The muffler pulled up and the man’s felt that pulled well down, and the killer whispered, you know. It’s the voice that gives the sex away. (He moves above the sofa table.) Yes, it might have been a woman.

MOLLIE. Miss Casewell?

TROTTER. (Moving to the stairs) She looks a bit old for the part. (He moves up the stairs, opens the library door, looks in, then shuts the door.) Oh yes, Mrs. Ralston, there’s a very wide field. (He comes down the stairs.) There’s yourself, for instance.

MOLLIE. Me?

TROTTER. You’re about the right age.

(MOLLIE is about to protest.)

(Checking her) No, no. Whatever you tell me about yourself, I’ve got no means of checking it at this moment, remember. And then there’s your husband.

MOLLIE. Giles—how ridiculous!

TROTTER. (Crossing slowly to Left ofMOLLIE) He and Christopher Wren are much of an age. Say your husband looks older than his years, and Christopher Wren looks younger. Actual age is very hard to tell. How much do you know about your husband, Mrs. Ralston?

MOLLIE. How much do I know about Giles? Oh, don’t be silly.

TROTTER. You’ve been married—how long?

MOLLIE. Just a year.

TROTTER. And you met him—where?

MOLLIE. At a dance in London. We went in a party.

TROTTER. Did you meet his people?

MOLLIE. He hasn’t any people. They’re all dead.

TROTTER. (Significantly) They’re all dead?

MOLLIE. Yes—but oh, you make it sound all wrong. His father was a barrister and his mother died when he was a baby.

TROTTER. You’re only telling me what he told you.

MOLLIE. Yes—but . . . (She turns away.)

TROTTER. You don’t know it of your own knowledge.

MOLLIE. (Turning back quickly) It’s outrageous that . . .

TROTTER. You’d be surprised, Mrs. Ralston, if you knew how many cases rather like yours we get. Especially since the war. Homes broken up and families dead. Fellow says he’s been in the Air Force, or just finished his Army training. Parents killed—no relations. There aren’t any backgrounds nowadays and young people settle their own affairs—they meet and marry. It’s parents and relatives who used to make the enquiries before they consented to an engagement. That’s all done away with. Girl just marries her man. Sometimes she doesn’t find out for a year or two that he’s an absconding bank clerk, or an Army deserter or something equally undesirable. How long had you known Giles Ralston when you married him?

MOLLIE. Just three weeks. But . . .