The Mousetrap полностью

TROTTER. (Moving down to Left ofMOLLIE) Yes. As you say, people came—a lot of people from different directions—all arriving more or less at once. (He pauses, moves down Centre and turns his back to the audience.) Now then, when I got out of that window (He points) to trace the telephone wire, you, Mr. Ralston, went upstairs to the room you and Mrs. Ralston occupy, to try the extension telephone. (Moving up Centre) Where were you when Mrs. Ralston screamed?

GILES. I was still up in the bedroom. The extension telephone was dead, too. I looked out of the window to see if I could see any sign of the wires being cut there, but I couldn’t. Just after I closed the window again, I heard Mollie scream and I rushed down.

TROTTER. (Leaning on the refectory table) Those simple actions took you rather a long time, didn’t they, Mr. Ralston?

GILES. I don’t think so. (He moves away to the stairs.)

TROTTER. I should say you definitely—took your time over them.

GILES. I was thinking about something.

TROTTER. Very well. Now then, Mr. Wren, I’ll have your account of where you were.

CHRISTOPHER. (Rising and moving to Left ofTROTTER) I’d been in the kitchen, seeing if there was anything I could do to help Mrs. Ralston. I adore cooking. After that I went upstairs to my bedroom.

TROTTER. Why?

CHRISTOPHER. It’s quite a natural thing to go to one’s bedroom, don’t you think? I mean—one does want to be alone sometimes.

TROTTER. You went to your bedroom because you wanted to be alone?

CHRISTOPHER. And I wanted to brush my hair—and—er—tidy up.

TROTTER. (Looking hard atCHRISTOPHER’s dishevelled hair) You wanted to brush your hair?

CHRISTOPHER. Anyway, that’s where I was!

(GILES moves down Left to the door.)

TROTTER. And you heard Mrs. Ralston scream?

CHRISTOPHER. Yes.

TROTTER. And you came down?

CHRISTOPHER. Yes.

TROTTER. Curious that you and Mr. Ralston didn’t meet on the stairs.

(CHRISTOPHER and GILES look at each other.)

CHRISTOPHER. I came down by the back stairs. They’re nearer to my room.

TROTTER. Did you go to your room by the back stairs, or did you come through here?

CHRISTOPHER. I went up by the back stairs, too. (He moves to the desk chair and sits.)

TROTTER. I see. (He moves to Right of the sofa table.) Mr. Paravicini?

PARAVICINI. I have told you. (He rises and moves to Left of the sofa.) I was playing the piano in the drawing room—through there, Inspector. (He gestures Left.)

TROTTER. I’m not an Inspector—just a Sergeant, Mr. Paravicini. Did anybody hear you playing the piano?

PARAVICINI. (Smiling) I do not expect so. I was playing very, very softly—with one finger—so.

MOLLIE. You were playing Three Blind Mice.

TROTTER. (Sharply) Is that so?

PARAVICINI. Yes. It is a very catchy little tune. It is—how shall I say?—a haunting little tune? Don’t you all agree?

MOLLIE. I think it’s horrible.

PARAVICINI. And yet—it runs in people’s head. Someone was whistling it, too

TROTTER. Whistling it? Where?

PARAVICINI. I am not sure. Perhaps in the front hall—perhaps on the stairs—perhaps even upstairs in a bedroom.

TROTTER. Who was whistling Three Blind Mice?

(There is no answer.)

Are you making this up, Mr. Paravicini?

PARAVICINI. No, no, Inspector—I beg your pardon—Sergeant, I would not do a thing like that.

TROTTER. Well, go on, you were playing the piano.

PARAVICINI. (Holding out a finger) With one finger so . . . And then I hear the radio—playing very loud—someone is shouting on it. It offended my ears. And after that—suddenly—I hear Mrs. Ralston scream. (He sits at the Left end of the sofa.)

TROTTER. (Moving up to Centre of the refectory table; gesturing with his fingers) Mr. Ralston upstairs. Mr. Wren upstairs. Mr. Paravicini in drawing room. Miss Casewell?

MISSCASEWELL. I was writing letters in the library.

TROTTER. Could you hear what was going on in here?

MISSCASEWELL. No, I didn’t hear anything until Mrs. Ralston screamed.

TROTTER. And what did you do then?

MISSCASEWELL. I came in here.

TROTTER. At once.

MISSCASEWELL. I—think so.