The Mousetrap

WARGRAVE. (Interrupts him) Mr. Blore, that proves nothing at all. Judges have gone mad before now. So have doctors. (Pause) So have policemen.

LOMBARD. Hear, hear. (VERAenters Left 2) Well, does he want some coffee?

VERA. (Crossing Right to tabouret Right Centre; lightly) He’d rather make himself a nice cup of tea! What about Doctor Armstrong? Do you think we ought to take him up a cup?

WARGRAVE. I will take it up if you like.

LOMBARD. I’ll take it. I want to change.

VERA. Yes, you ought to. You’ll catch cold.

WARGRAVE. (Smiling ironically) I think Doctor Armstrong might prefer to see me. He might not admit you, Captain Lombard. He might be afraid of your revolver.

BLORE. Ah, that revolver. (Meaningly) I want a word with you about that—

VERA. (ToLOMBARD) Do go and change.

(WARGRAVE takes cup from her and, passing behind, goes out Left 2.)

LOMBARD. (Up Right Centre toBLORE) What were you going to say?

BLORE. I’d like to know why you brought a revolver down here on what’s supposed to be a little social visit.

LOMBARD. You would, would you? (After a momentary pause) I’ve led a rather adventurous life. I’ve got into the habit of taking a revolver about with me. I’ve been in a bit of a jam once or twice. (Smiles) It’s a pleasant feeling to have a gun handy. (To BLORE) Don’t you agree?

(Enter ARMSTRONG Left 1; stands down Left.)

BLORE. We don’t carry them. Now then, I want the truth about this gun—

LOMBARD. What a damned suspicious fellow you are, Blore!

BLORE. I know a fishy story when I hear one.

ARMSTRONG. If it’s about that revolver, I’d like to hear what you’ve got to say.

LOMBARD. (Crossing down Left) Oh, well, I got a letter, asking me to come here as the guest of Mr. and Mrs. Owen—It would be worth my while. The writer said that he had heard I’d got a reputation for being a good man in a tight place. There might be some danger, but I’d be all right if I kept my eyes open.

BLORE. I’d never have fallen for that.

LOMBARD. Well, I did. I was bored. God, how I was bored back in this tame country. It was an intriguing proposition, you must admit.

BLORE. Too vague for my liking.

LOMBARD. That was the whole charm. It aroused my curiosity.

BLORE. Curiosity killed the cat.

LOMBARD. (Smiling) Yes, quite.

VERA. Oh, do go and change, please!

LOMBARD. I’m going my sweet, I’m going. The maternal instinct I think it’s called.

VERA. Don’t be ridiculous—

(VERA, up Left, collects EMILY’s cup; goes down Right with it. LOMBARD exits Left 1.)

BLORE. (Crosses down Left) That’s a tall story. If it’s true, why didn’t he tell it to us last night?

ARMSTRONG. He might have thought that this was exactly the emergency for which he had been prepared.

VERA. Perhaps it is.

ARMSTRONG. (Crosses Right Centre; puts down cup on tabouret and goes Right.) I hardly think so. It was just Mr. Owen’s little bit of cheese to get him into the trap with the rest of us. He must have known him enough to rely on his curiosity.

BLORE. If it’s true, he’s a wrong ’un, that man. I wouldn’t trust him a yard.

VERA. (Up Centre) Are you such a good judge of truth?

(WARGRAVE enters Left 1.)

ARMSTRONG. (With a sudden outburst) We must get out of here—we must, before it is too late. (He is shaking violently.)

(BLORE sits down Left.)

WARGRAVE. The one thing we must not do is to give way to nerves. (Crosses Right above Left sofa.)

ARMSTRONG. (Sits on fender) I’m sorry. (Tries to smile) Rather a case of “Physician, heal thyself.” But I’ve been overworked lately and run down.

WARGRAVE. Sleeping badly?

ARMSTRONG. Yes. I keep dreaming—Hospital—operations—A knife at my throat—(Shivers.)

WARGRAVE. Real nightmares.

ARMSTRONG. Yes. (Curiously) Do you ever dream you’re in Court—sentencing a man to death?

WARGRAVE. (Sits Left sofa; smiling) Are you by any chance referring to a man called Edward Seton? I can assure you I should not lose any sleep over the death of Edward Seton. A particularly brutal and cold-blooded murderer. The jury liked him. They were inclined to let him off. I could see. However—(With quiet ferocity) I cooked Seton’s goose.

(EVERYONE gives a little shiver.)