Читаем The Mousetrap полностью

ROYDE. He’s had the devil’s own luck. If it had been some other poor chap with all that evidence piled against him, he wouldn’t have had a hope.

MARY. It must have been someone from outside.

ROYDE. It wasn’t. They’ve proved that. Everything was fastened up and bolted in the morning. (Mary moves to the C. bay window and examines the catch.) Besides, what about your dope? That must have been someone in the house.

MARY. (Shaking her head.) I just can’t believe it could have been one of—us. (She moves to the R. end of the rostrum. Latimer enters by the French windows. He carries his jacket.)

LATIMER. (Moving toR. of the chaise.) Hullo, Royde. Good morning, Miss Aldin. I’m looking for Kay. Do you know where she is?

MARY. I think she’s up in her room, Mr. Latimer.

LATIMER. (Putting his jacket over the upstage end of the chaise.) I thought she might like to come and have lunch at the hotel. Not very cheerful for her here, in the circumstances.

MARY. You can hardly expect us to be very cheerful after what’s happened, can you?

LATIMER. (Moving downR.) That’s what I meant. It’s different for Kay, though, you know. The old girl didn’t mean so much to her.

MARY. Naturally. She hasn’t known Lady Tressilian as long as we have.

LATIMER. Nasty business. I’ve had the police over at the hotel this morning.

MARY. What did they want?

LATIMER. Checking up on Strange, I suppose. They asked me all sorts of questions. I told them he was with me from after eleven until half past two, and they seemed satisfied. Lucky thing for him that he decided to follow me over to the hotel that night, wasn’t it?

ROYDE. (Rising.) Very lucky. (He moves to the doorL.) I’m going upstairs, Latimer. I’ll tell Kay you’re here, if I can find her.

LATIMER. Thanks. (Royde exitsL. He looks toward the doorL. for a moment, then goes to his jacket and takes his cigarettes from the pocket.) A queer chap. Always seems to be keeping himself bottled up and afraid the cork might come out. Is Audrey going to reward at long last the dog-like devotion of a lifetime? (He lights a cigarette for himself.)

MARY. (Crossing to the doorL.; annoyed.) I don’t know, and it’s no business of ours. (She hesitates and turns.) When you saw the police did they say anything—I mean—did you get any idea as to who they suspect now. (She moves to L. of the armchair L. C.)

LATIMER. They weren’t making any confidences.

MARY. I didn’t suppose they were, but I thought, perhaps from the questions they asked . . .(Kay enters L.)

KAY. (Crossing to Latimer.) Hullo, Ted. It was sweet of you to come over.

LATIMER. I thought you could probably do with a bit of cheering up, Kay.

KAY. My God, how right you were. It was bad enough before in this house, but now . . .

LATIMER. What about a run in the car and lunch at the hotel—or anywhere else you like? (Mary moves down L.)

KAY. I don’t know what Nevile’s doing . . .

LATIMER. I’m not asking Nevile—I’m asking you.

KAY. I couldn’t come without Nevile, Ted. I’m sure it would do him good to get away from here for a bit.

LATIMER. (Shrugging his shoulders.) All right—bring him along if you want to, Kay. I’m easy.

KAY. Where is Nevile, Mary?

MARY. I don’t know. I think he’s in the garden somewhere.

KAY. (Crossing to the French windows.) I’ll see if I can find him. I won’t be long, Ted. (Kay exits by the French windows.)

LATIMER. (Moving upR.; angrily.) What she sees in him I can’t think. He’s treated her like dirt.

MARY. (Moving upL. of the armchairL. C.) I think she’ll forgive him.

LATIMER. She shouldn’t—now she’s got her share of the old girl’s money—she can go where she pleases, do what she likes. She’s got a chance now of having a life of her own.

MARY. (Sitting in the armchairL. C.; with obscure feeling.) Can one ever really have a life of one’s own? Isn’t that just the illusion that lures us on—thinking—planning—for a future that will never really exist?

LATIMER. That wasn’t what you were saying the other night.

MARY. I know. But that seems a long time ago. So much has happened since then.

LATIMER. Specifically, one murder.