The Mousetrap

AUDREY. (With difficulty.) I—I don’t know—anything about it. (She hastily removes the glove and gives it to Battle.)

NEVILE. Look here, Superintendent, what are you driving at?

BATTLE. (Crossing toL. of Nevile.) Perhaps I might have a word with you privately, Mr. Strange?

LATIMER. (Moving to the French windows.) Come on, Kay, let’s go out in the garden. (Kay and Latimer exit by the French windows.)

BATTLE. There’s no need to disturb everybody. (To Nevile.) Isn’t there somewhere else we could . . . ?

MARY. (Rising quickly.) I was just going, in any case. (To Audrey.) You coming with me, Audrey?

AUDREY. (Almost in a dream.) Yes—yes. (She nods in a dazed, frightened manner, and rises slowly. Mary puts her arm around Audrey, and they exit L.)

NEVILE. (Sitting on the chaise.) Now, Superintendent? What’s this absurd story about gloves outside Audrey’s window?

BATTLE. It’s not absurd, sir. We’ve found some very curious things in this house.

NEVILE. Curious? What do you mean by curious?

BATTLE. Give us the exhibit, Jim. (Leách moves toR. of Battle, extracts a heavy, steel-headed poker from his parcel, hands it to Battle, then moves downL. C. He shows the poker to Nevile.) Old-fashioned Victorian fire-iron.

NEVILE. You think that this—

BATTLE.—was what was really used? Yes, Mr. Strange, I do.

NEVILE. But why? There’s no sign . . .

BATTLE. Oh, it’s been cleaned, and put back in the grate of the room where it belonged. But you can’t remove bloodstains as easily as all that. We found traces all right. (He moves up C. and puts the poker on the window-seat.)

NEVILE. (Hoarsely.) Whose room was it in?

BATTLE. (With a quick glance at Nevile.) We’ll come to that presently. I’ve got another question to ask you. That dinner jacket you wore last night, it’s got fair hairs on the inside of the collar and on the shoulders. Do you know how they got there? (He moves to the L. end of the rostrum.)

NEVILE. No.

BATTLE. (Crossing and standing upR.) They’re a lady’s hairs, sir. Fair hairs. There were several red hairs, as well, on the sleeves.

NEVILE. These would be my wife’s—Kay’s. You are suggesting that the others are Audrey’s?

BATTLE. Oh, they are, sir. Unquestionably. We’ve had them compared with hairs from her brush.

NEVILE. Very likely they are. What about it? I remember I caught my cuff button in her hair the other night on the terrace.

LEACH. In that case the hairs would be on the cuff, sir. Not on the inside of the collar.

NEVILE. (Rising.) What are you insinuating?

BATTLE. There are traces of powder, too, inside the jacket collar. Primavera Naturelle, a very pleasant-scented powder and expensive. It’s no good telling me that you use it, Mr. Strange, because I shan’t believe you. And Mrs. Kay Strange uses Orchid Sun Kiss. Mrs. Audrey Strange uses Primavera Naturelle.

NEVILE. Supposing she does?

BATTLE. It seems obvious that on some occasion Mrs. Audrey Strange actually wore your dinner jacket. It’s the only reasonable way the hairs and the powder could have got inside the collar. You’ve seen the glove that was found in the ivy outside her window. It’s hers all right. It was the left hand glove. Here’s the right hand one. (He takes the glove from his pocket and holds it up. It is crumpled and stained with dried blood.)

NEVILE. (Huskily.) What—what’s that on it?

BATTLE. Blood, Mr. Strange. (He holds the glove out to Leach. Leach moves on to the rostrum and takes the glove from Battle.) Blood of the same group as Lady Tressilian’s. An unusual blood group.

NEVILE. (Moving slowly downR.) Good God! Are you suggesting that Audrey—Audrey—would make all these elaborate preparations to kill an old lady she had known for years so that she could get hold of that money? (His voice rises.) Audrey? (Royde enters quickly L.)

ROYDE. (Crossing toL. of the chaise.) Sorry to interrupt, but I’d like to be in on this.