The Mousetrap

LOMBARD. I don’t think, my darling—I know.

(MARSTON enters Centre from Left. Good-looking young man of twenty-three or so. Rich, spoiled—not very intelligent.)

MARSTON. (Coming down Right to them) Wizard place you’ve got here.

(Prepares to greet VERA as his hostess. LOMBARD stands beside her like a host.)

VERA. (Shakes hands) I’m Mrs. Owen’s secretary. Mrs. Owen has been detained in London, I’m afraid, and won’t be down until tomorrow.

MARSTON. (Vaguely) Oh, too bad.

VERA. May I introduce Captain Lombard, Mr.—er—

MARSTON. Marston, Anthony Marston.

LOMBARD. Have a drink?

MARSTON. Oh, thank you.

(BLORE comes up on balcony from Left. Middle-aged, thickset man. Is wearing rather loud clothes and is giving his impression of a South African gold magnate. His eyes dart about; making notes of everything.)

LOMBARD. What will you have? Gin, whisky, sherry—?

MARSTON. Whisky, I think.

(They go down Right to cabinet.)

BLORE. (Comes down toVERAat Right Centre. SeizingVERA’s hand and wringing it heartily) Wonderful place you have here.

VERA. I’m Mrs. Owen’s secretary. Mrs. Owen has been detained in London, I’m afraid, and won’t be down until tomorrow.

LOMBARD. Say when!

MARSTON. Oh, wizard!

BLORE. How are you? (Makes for cocktail cabinet.)

LOMBARD. My name’s Lombard. Have a drink, Mr.—

BLORE. Davis. Davis is the name.

LOMBARD. Mr. Davis—Mr. Marston!

(VERA sits on Right sofa.)

BLORE. How are you, Mr. Marston? Pleased to meet you. Thanks, Mr. Lombard. I don’t mind if I do. Bit of a stiff climb up here. (He goes up Centre to balcony.) But whew! What a view and what a height! Reminds me of South Africa, this place. (Comes down Centre.)

LOMBARD. (Staring at him) Does it? What part?

BLORE. Oh—er—Natal, Durban, you know.

LOMBARD. (Crosses Centre) Really? (Hands him drink)

BLORE. Well, here’s to temperance. Do you—er—know South Africa?

LOMBARD. Me? No.

BLORE. (With renewed confidence) That’s where I come from. That’s my Natal state—ha ha.

LOMBARD. Interesting country, I should think.

BLORE. Finest country in the world, sir. Gold, silver, diamonds, oranges, everything a man could want. Talk about a land flowing with beer and skittles. (Goes to cocktail cabinet down Right).

(GENERAL MACKENZIE arrives on balcony from Left. Upright soldierly old man, with a gentle, tired face.)

MACKENZIE. (Hesitating courteously) Er—How do you do?

(VERA rises; meets him above sofa seat.)

VERA. General MacKenzie, isn’t it? I’m Mrs. Owen’s secretary. Mrs. Owen has been detained in London, I’m afraid, and won’t be down until tomorrow. Can I introduce Captain Lombard—Mr. Marston and Mr.—

(MACKENZIE crosses towards them.)

BLORE. (Approaching him) Davis, Davis is the name. (Shakes hands.)

LOMBARD. Whisky and soda, sir?

MACKENZIE. Er—thanks. (Goes down Right; studies LOMBARD.) You in the service?

LOMBARD. Formerly in the King’s African Rifles. Too tame for me in peacetime. I chucked it.

MACKENZIE. Pity. (AsLOMBARDpours out soda) When.

(MISS EMILY BRENT arrives Centre from Left. She is a tall, thin spinster, with a disagreeable, suspicious face.)

EMILY. (Sharply toVERA) Where is Mrs. Owen? (Puts case on Left sofa.)

VERA. Miss Brent, isn’t it? I’m Mrs. Owen’s secretary. Mrs. Owen has been detained in London, I’m afraid.

(LOMBARD to Right of EMILY.)

LOMBARDandVERA. And won’t be down until tomorrow.

(They tail off, rather embarrassed.)

EMILY. Indeed. Extraordinary. Did she miss the train?

VERA. I expect so. Won’t you have something? May I introduce Captain Lombard—General MacKenzie—Mr. Marston. I think you all met on the boat. And Mr.—