The Mousetrap

(An appalling and bloodcurdling shriek of utter terror comes from overhead, and a heavy thud. All four men start up. LOMBARD and BLORE catch up candles. BLORE takes candle from mantelpiece. All four rush to door Left 1 and out in this order: LOMBARD, BLORE, ARMSTRONG and WARGRAVE—the latter is slow getting under way, owing to age. Stage is quite dark as soon as LOMBARD and BLORE have gone through door and before WARGRAVE reaches door. Confused noises off. Then, on stage, WARGRAVE’s voice calls out, “Who’s that?” Sound of a shot. A confused moving about on the stage; voices off also; off faint—then come nearer. Left 2 door opens. Then door Left 1. BLORE heard swearing off. Also ARMSTRONG’s voice.)

VERA. (Coming in Left 2, stumbling about) Philip, Philip, where are you? I’ve lost you.

LOMBARD. (Coming in Left 1) Here I am.

VERA. Why can’t we have some light? It’s awful in the dark. You don’t know where you are. You don’t know where anyone is. (Sits Left sofa.)

LOMBARD. It’s that damned draught on the stairs—blowing all the candles out. Here, I’ve got a lighter. (Lights his and her candle. Sits Left sofa.)

VERA. Where’s Doctor Armstrong?

ARMSTRONG. (From hall) I’m hunting for the matches.

LOMBARD. Never mind matches—get some more candles.

VERA. I was horrified to death—it went right around my throat—

LOMBARD. What did?

VERA. The window was open in my room. It blew out the candle as I opened the door. And then a long strand of seaweed touched my throat. I thought, in the dark, that I was being strangled by a wet hand—

(Murmur off Left.)

LOMBARD. I don’t wonder you yelled.

VERA. Who hung that seaweed there?

LOMBARD. I don’t know. But when I find out, he’ll be sorry he was ever born.

(ARMSTRONG comes quietly in from Left 1.)

VERA. (Sharply) Who’s that?

(WARN Curtain.)

ARMSTRONG. It’s all right, Miss Claythorne. It’s only me.

BLORE. (In hall) Here we are. (A faint glow through door as he lights candles. He comes in carrying candle. Crosses Right.) Who fired that shot?

(VERA rises; moves Left Centre, turns and screams. Light reveals WARGRAVE sat upright on windowseat, red oilsilk curtain draped around shoulders. Grey skein of wool plaited into wig on his head. In centre of forehead is round dark mark with red trickling from it. MEN stand paralysed. VERA screams. ARMSTRONG pulls himself together, waves OTHERS to stand back and goes over to WARGRAVE. Bends over him; straightens up.)

ARMSTRONG. He’s dead—Shot through the head—

VERA. (Leans against window up Left) One got in Chancery—and then there were four—

ARMSTRONG. Miss Claythorne.

LOMBARD. Vera.

VERA. You got me out of the way. You got me to go upstairs for cigarettes. You put that seaweed there—You did it all so that you could kill that helpless old man in the dark—you’re mad—all of you—crazy. (Her voice is low and full of horror) That’s why you wanted the red curtain and the knitting wool—It was all planned—long ago—for that—Oh, my God, let me get out of here—(She edges to the Left 1 door and rushes out, as—)

CURTAIN

Scene II

The following morning.

It is brilliant sunshine. The room is as it was the night before.

BLORE, LOMBARDANDVERAARE SITTING ON THELEFT SOFA, BACKS TO THE AUDIENCE, EATING TINNED TONGUE ON TRAY

LOMBARD.

Three little Indian boys,

Sitting in a row.