The Mousetrap

(HENRIETTA moves to the fireplace, leaving the alcove curtain open and light on.)

LADYANGKATELL. I don’t think his wife looks after him properly. I imagine she’s the kind of woman that’s always cleaning the house, and doesn’t bother to cook.

EDWARD. Inspector Colquhoun?

LADYANGKATELL. No, no, dear. Inspector Jackson. I shouldn’t think Colquhoun was married. Not yet. He’s quite attractive.

HENRIETTA. They’re a long time in with Henry.

LADYANGKATELL. The worst of murder is it does upset the servants so.

(HENRIETTA crosses above the sofa to the window Right.)

We were to have duck for lunch. Still, cold duck can be quite nice. I suppose one couldn’t sit down and have a little bit, could one? (She pauses.) No.

MIDGE. It was all horrible. (She shivers.) It’s dreadful having to sit in here.

LADYANGKATELL. Well, darling, we’ve got to sit in here. There is nowhere else to sit.

(HENRIETTA turns and crosses below the sofa to the fireplace.)

First they turn us out of here and take photographs, then they herd us back in here and make the dining room their headquarters, and now this Inspector Colquhoun is in the study with Henry.

(There is a pause. HENRIETTA turns and faces the fireplace.)

What does one do about Gerda, do you think? Something on a tray? A little strong soup, perhaps?

MIDGE. (Rising and moving to the window Right; vehemently) Really, Lucy, you’re quite inhuman. (She gazes out of the window.)

LADYANGKATELL. (Surprised) Darling, it’s all very upsetting, but one has to go on with meals and things. Excitement even makes one rather hungry—rather sick, too.

MIDGE. Yes, I know. That’s just what one does feel.

LADYANGKATELL. Reading about murders in newspapers gives one no idea how trying they can be. I feel as though I’d walked about fifteen miles. Just think, we’ll be in the News of the World next week—perhaps even tomorrow.

EDWARD. I never see the News of the World.

LADYANGKATELL. Don’t you? Oh, I always do. We pretend to get it for the servants, but Gudgeon is very understanding. He doesn’t take it to the servants’ hall before the evening. You should read it, Edward. You’d be amazed at the number of old Colonels who make improper advances to nurse-maids.

(GUDGEON enters Left. He carries a tray of coffee and sandwiches.)

Ah! (She moves along the sofa and sits Centre of it.)

GUDGEON. (Crossing to the coffee table) Shall I take something in to the study to Sir Henry and the police officer?

LADYANGKATELL. Yes, yes, thank you, Gudgeon, I’m a little worried about Mrs. Cristow.

GUDGEON. Simmonds has already taken her up some tea, and some thin bread and butter and a boiled egg, m’lady. (He turns and crosses to the door Left.)

LADYANGKATELL. Thank you, Gudgeon. I had forgotten about the eggs, Gudgeon. I meant to do something about them.

GUDGEON. (Stopping and turning) I have already attended to that, m’lady. (With a trace of emphasis) Quite satisfactorily, I think. You need have no further anxiety.

(He exits Left.)

LADYANGKATELL. I don’t know what I should do without him. These substantial sandwiches are just what is needed—not as heartless as a sit-down meal, and yet . . .

MIDGE. (Starting to cry; hysterically) Oh, Lucy—don’t!

(LADY ANGKATELL looks surprised. EDWARD rises, crosses to the drinks table, puts his paper and pencil on it, then moves to MIDGE and puts an arm around her as she sobs unrestrainedly.)

EDWARD. Midge . . .

LADYANGKATELL. Poor dear. It’s all been too much for her.

EDWARD. Don’t worry, Midge. It’s all right. Come and sit down. (He leads her to the sofa and sits her at the Right end of it.)

MIDGE. I’m sorry to be such a fool.

EDWARD. We understand.

MIDGE. I’ve lost my handkerchief.

(LADY ANGKATELL pours out four cups of coffee.)

EDWARD. (HandingMIDGEhis handkerchief) Here—have mine.

MIDGE. Thank you.