The Mousetrap

(MISS CASEWELL exits up the stairs Left.)

TROTTER. (Moving to the stairs and looking up after her) It’s impossible . . . I can’t believe it . . .

CHRISTOPHER. (Moving up and leaning over the desk chair) What can’t you believe? Six impossible things before breakfast, like the Red Queen?

TROTTER. Oh yes. It’s rather like that.

CHRISTOPHER. Dear me—you look as though you’d seen a ghost.

TROTTER. (Resuming his usual manner) I’ve seen something I ought to have seen before. (He moves Centre.) Blind as a bat, I’ve been. But I think now we may be able to get somewhere.

CHRISTOPHER. (Impertinently) The police have a clue.

TROTTER. (Moving Right of the sofa table; with a hint of menace) Yes, Mr. Wren—at last the police have a clue. I want everyone assembled in here again. Do you know where they are?

CHRISTOPHER. (Moving to Left ofTROTTER) Giles and Mollie are in the kitchen. I have been helping Major Metcalf to look for your skis. We’ve looked in the most entertaining places—but all to no avail. I don’t know where Paravicini is.

TROTTER. I’ll get him. (He moves down Left to the door.) You get the others.

(CHRISTOPHER exits up Right.)

(Opening the door) Mr. Paravicini. (Moving below the sofa) Mr. Paravicini. (Returning to the door and shouting) Paravicini! (He moves up to Centre of the refectory table.)

(PARAVICINI enters gaily down Left.)

PARAVICINI. Yes, Sergeant? (He moves to the desk chair.) What can I do for you? Little Bo Policeman has lost his skis and doesn’t know where to find them. Leave them alone, and they’ll come home, dragging a murderer behind them. (He moves down Left.)

(MAJOR METCALF enters through the arch up Right. GILES and MOLLIE enter up Right, with CHRISTOPHER.)

MAJORMETCALF. What is all this? (He moves down to the fire.)

TROTTER. Sit down, Major, Mrs. Ralston . . .

(No one sits. MOLLIE moves above the armchair Centre, GILES moves to Right of the refectory table and CHRISTOPHER stands between them.)

MOLLIE. Must I come now? It’s very inconvenient.

TROTTER. There are more important things than meals, Mrs. Ralston. Mrs. Boyle, for instance, won’t want another meal.

MAJORMETCALF. That’s a very tactless way of putting things, Sergeant.

TROTTER. I’m sorry, but I want cooperation and I intend to get it. Mr. Ralston, will you go and ask Miss Casewell to come down again? She went up in her room. Tell her it will only be for a few minutes.

(GILES exits to the stairs Left.)

MOLLIE. (Moving to Right of the refectory table) Have your skis been found, Sergeant?

TROTTER. No, Mrs. Ralston, but I may say I have a very shrewd suspicion of who took them, and of why they were taken. I won’t say any more at the present moment.

PARAVICINI. Please don’t. (He moves up to the desk chair.) I always think explanations should be kept to the very end. That exciting last chapter, you know.

TROTTER. (Reprovingly) This isn’t a game, sir.

CHRISTOPHER. Isn’t it? Now there I think you are wrong. I think it is a game—to somebody.

PARAVICINI. You think the murderer is enjoying himself. Maybe—maybe. (He sits in the desk chair.)

(GILES and MISS CASEWELL, now quite composed, enter from the stairs Left.)

MISSCASEWELL. What is happening?

TROTTER. Sit down, Miss Casewell, Mrs. Ralston . . .

(MISS CASEWELL sits on the Right arm of the sofa, MOLLIE moves down and sits in the armchair Centre. GILES remains standing at the bottom of the stairs.)