REHEARSAL
By
Brian Sands
Identified as ‘Vadkippe’ by HtF Vidcaps.
Chapter 12 Opening Night
‘I think the right words for this scene are, "Don’t move, you dirty rat, or I’ll fill you fulla lead," ’ said Delia Biancoflore the Playwright sweetly. ‘Ever thought, Clive Dunsborough, what being full of lead would mean for your precious bod?’
‘Uh, uhh ...’
‘No, I didn’t think so. Down on the floor, hands on your head!’
Clive obeyed with impressive alacrity.
‘Good. You’ve done borrowing, Dunsborough. Just stay put.’
The Director Eloise Mordaza was standing in the hallway behind the Playwright. She had been speaking softly and rapidly into her mobile phone. Now she snapped it shut and strode into the room.
‘The police are on their way. They’re not far behind us,’ she reported. ‘Oh my goodness, just look at you two!’ she exclaimed on seeing Laura and Alison sitting dejectedly though somewhat relieved on the floor wearing their rope and cloth bonds and virtually nothing else.
‘Yers,’ replied the Playwright slowly, ‘Though the situation up until now was serious, they are quite fetching aren’t they? Hmm, an idea ...’ The Playwright broke quickly from her momentary reverie and became businesslike again.
‘Elly, please untie our dear proteges. You can help too, Dunsborough by taking that gag off Laura. Only make sure you stay well to the side. If you try to take a hostage with some idea of saving your own skin you’re in deep manure.’
As the silk bandage was removed from her mouth, enabling her to expel the cloth gag, Laura could not believe that the ordeal was over. By the time the dress remnants had been cut away to lie in pathetic heaps on the floor around Laura and Alison, the sound of heavy feet approaching along the hallway told them that the police had arrived.
Laura continued to sit frozen in the side saddle position, knowing that her slightest movement would dislodge the remnants of panties trapped temporarily between her thighs. With her hands now free, she crossed her arms demurely over her chest. Alison’s reactions were the same.
Moments before the police appeared in the doorway, the Director shucked off her jacket and with it screened Alison and Laura from their sight, holding it like a matador’s cape. The Playwright still wore her elegant black silk chiffon blouse and narrow skirt and so was unable to assist in the same way. What she did do was to accost the first officer, a fresh-faced rookie constable, and with a firm though sweetly phrased order prevailed on him to remove his jacket and hand it to Laura.
‘You wouldn’t deny a lovely actress her modesty would you young man?’
Soon Alison was wrapped in Eloise Mordaza’s jacket and Laura in that of the constable. There was ironic applause from the other officers commending their young colleague who blushed to the roots, as he watched Laura clutch his jacket around her somewhat like a bath towel in order to mask her nakedness top and bottom.
Clive was led away. He was still in a state of stupor over how quickly his plans, and his future, had been overturned. Men like him, the Playwright observed some hours later, cracked easily when they could no longer achieve their goals by bullying.
Delia Biancoflore and Eloise Mordaza stood side by side, looking affectionately at Laura and Alison. With the onset of delayed shock, Laura felt shaky and her legs scarcely supported her. To her surprise, Alison seemed relatively calm.
‘Well dears,’ said the Director kindly, ‘After you’ve been fully, ahem, briefed, and made your statements to the police, I suggest we meet back at Ally’s for continued debriefing. I’m sure you have a lot of questions, Laura.’
*
‘I was pretending to be drunk,’ said Alison, ‘to trap Clive. But when you were locked up in the cupboard Clive started to grow suspicious, so I had to do something. And I was really scared about you, worried that you’d suffocate in that tiny space or choke on the gag with no-one around to help you. I admit that I had a little too much to drink earlier but it struck me that it was a good cover. A drunk offers less threat. So, to keep in the role, that’s why I tied you up so much and undid the buttons of your pretty dress.’
‘Ye-es,’ said the Playwright slowly, ‘We were expecting one of you to be wearing that lovely silk number. It was quite a diverting moment to find you both in the altogether.’ She chuckled, ‘I could see you complaining about it, Laura, because you are somewhat demure about that sort of thing, and I was going to tell you not to be so silly. But you were remarkably calm.’
‘I was more stunned than anything,’ replied Laura, blushing. ‘All that was needed was a little more time and I would have really been panicking.’
The Director chuckled. ‘Well, if you both want to be actresses, you need to get used to such things, especially in a corny melodrama like the one Delia’s writing, and rewriting. And rewriting.’
‘Physical exposure is a necessary step to emotional exposure,’ continued the Playwright. ‘Perhaps at rehearsal tomorrow, you should both do it au naturel.’
The three women laughed, much to Laura’s discomfiture. Quickly she changed the subject with a question she had wanted to ask all evening.
‘So it was all a put up job? Were the three of you in on it, and I was the only one who didn’t know?’
‘It had to be that way,’ said the Director. ‘And it didn’t all happen at once. You see, Delly here is a real detective. Remember how I mentioned she did detective work in her spare time? It so happened that she’s been investigating an insurance fraud the last month. They knew the man Dunsborough and that he used other aliases, including the names Clive and Ronald, and they even had a photograph of him. Delly told me about it, showed me the mug shot. I’m a bit of an amateur detective myself, under Delly’s tutelage. And when Alison introduced me to him, with poor Laura bound and gagged and obviously wanting to speak, I recognised Dunsborough immediately. That’s why I made a quick exit.’
‘You see,’ said Delia Biancoflore, taking up the thread of Eloise Mordaza’s story, ‘Elly was in on it too. We couldn’t take you into our confidence because I knew of your past liaison with the man when he called himself Ronald. We feared you might still be close and that you might say something innocently that put him on his guard.’
‘So,’ interposed the Director, ‘the scenario that Alison played through was constructed by Delia and directed by myself. We phoned Alison on her mobile and explained it. And the brave girl volunteered to act as bait.’
‘And, Alison,’ said the Playwright, ‘ you gave the performance of your life!’
‘But your performances were wonderful too,’ exclaimed Laura. ‘You took a terrible chance, allowing yourselves to be made helpless, bound and gagged, knowing that man was somewhere around.’
‘We tried to make ourselves as innocent and as zany as possible, with a good chance that we’d be overlooked,’ said Eloise. ‘Dunsborough, we reasoned, was more interested in Alison’s money. If we seemed to him to be two silly women who liked acting out melodramas, he’d be more than happy to let us remain that way.’
‘After all, he had one kidnapped woman on his hands he wasn’t sure what to do with,’ said Delia. ‘And in the end he took Alison as well. The poor man would have been at his wit’s end if he’d had four trussed up women to deal with.’
‘He’s a con-man, not really cut out as a kidnapper, or anything worse I’m glad to say,’ added Eloise.
‘And another thing,’ said the Playwright, ‘Things were not hopeless for us. We heard enough through the earphones to know that Clive was our man. It was a stroke of genius for Allison to add extra insulation. It put the fellow more at ease to think that we did not even know he was there.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Eloise Mordaza, ‘It shows how desperate he was that he not only had to tie up Laura, he also could not trust Alison, and tied her up too. In that regard, I think one can safely say that this has been a real bonding experience for you both.’
‘But how easy was it for you to get free?’ asked Laura. ‘Those ropes looked very tight to me. I know. Alison ties some mean knots!’
‘Yes,’ said Alison, ‘But remember, Lalla, I only tied up Eloise. It was Eloise who tied up Delia.’
‘And there are two things there,’ said Eloise, ‘First, I made the key knots a little slack and, second, Delly’s a pretty good escape artist. Alison had me done up like a Christmas parcel and it would have been difficult to get free quickly, though I think I would have managed it. But Delly just slipped her bonds the moment you were all gone and we were soon hot on your trail.’
‘That part was difficult,’ said Delia, ‘We nearly lost you a couple of times. But when we saw Dunsborough leave his hideout, we guessed you were both tied up inside. But we had to wait for him to return so that we could close the trap and catch him.’
‘And that’s how it ends,’ said Eloise with satisfaction. She got to her feet and walked to a side table where she collected her bag and scarf. She turned to Alison and Laura who were sitting side by side on the sofa of Alison’s living room, ‘I suggest that you two girls rest through what’s left of the day. And take tomorrow off as well. Dress rehearsal is scheduled for next Monday, when the whole cast is present. But do more rehearsing. Brush up on your lines. Delly is still writing last-minute changes, but I’m sure that you two young women are eminently adaptable. You have to be after all you’ve been through.’
Laura locked eyes with Alison, ‘And we’ll always be the best of friends.’
The Director looked conspiratorially at the Playwright who was coming to her feet too. ‘Delly, I loove those happy endings.’
The Playwright smiled. ‘And I just loove plays within plays, Elly.’
‘Coming, Delly?’
‘Sure, Elly. That keyboard beckons.’
The Director and the Playwright walked to the door.
‘There’s one more thing that we haven’t mentioned,’ said Eloise, turning back. ‘As you know, we open the following Monday, a week after rehearsal. But there’s been a small change in venue, very appropriate considering the multicultural nature of the cast. As well as writing lots of changes to the play, Delly has been negotiating with an avant-garde production company in Europe and, guess what? Opening night will be in Paris and not the West End after all, though that is scheduled in the tour plans if the play’s a success.’
‘So, ladies,’ added the Playwright sweetly, ‘we have to be at our best to impress the critics.’
*
It was more than a week later, in the evening at the tail end of opening night. The four women were sitting in Delia Biancoflore’s luxury Paris hotel suite engaging in an animated post mortem on the play. Laura was wearing a shimmering red silk dress, brand new, a joint gift from the Playwright and Director. It was cut in a well-known chic Parisian style, with short sleeves and deep square neckline tapering to a triangle to reveal a generous decolletage. The swirling skirt fell to just below her knees. Alison wore a patterned green dress also of silk. It had a scoop neck and puff sleeves, with a narrow skirt that stopped just short of her nylon sheathed knees. It too was a gift from their mentors.
‘I didn’t think it was going to work,’ the Director was saying, ‘Although everything seemed all right at rehearsal the week before.’
‘But I wasn’t stripped down to panties and bra then!’ Laura exclaimed. ‘Oh I know where you got the idea from, Delia,’ - they were on a first-name basis now because of the intense collaboration between playwright and actor over the last week - ‘But you might have given some warning instead of springing it on me this morning over breakfast!’
‘I didn’t want you to be worrying unnecessarily overnight,’ Lalla, ‘And you carried it off like a trouper. You might not have been able to hear with the satin sheet brushing over your head and face, but the audience was mesmerised.’
‘And when you rolled out on to the carpet and lay there motionless at first,’ added Eloise, ‘there was a gasp from the auditorium, and then you could have heard a pin drop. It was a most effective if unorthodox entrance in that last scene. Reminds me a little of Cleopatra.’
Laura rose and walked to the refrigerator bar and bent elegantly to the door, retrieving a miniature bottle of gin which she proceeded to empty into a glass to which she added a squirt of tonic water and a slice of lemon. She repeated this operation three more times for her friends.
She walked with a new confidence born of having mastered her role so thoroughly that she could not believe the verbal accolades of some of the critics, who would be putting their words into print in a few hours’ time. The feel of the exquisite silk dress was refreshing, although it had been a long hard day. The fabric was just loose enough to hiss sensuously across her breasts as they bobbed lightly under it, the brushing teasing her nipples erect. She had never felt happier and more feminine that at that moment, a condition that was to continue for the whole run of Where There’s A Will that might rival The Mousetrap.
‘You were pretty good yourself,’ she said to the Playwright. ‘I would never have recognised you in that frowsy cook’s uniform!’
‘I think it’s important for a playwright to get into her work literally. Thank you dear.’ She took the glass that Laura offered. ‘It’s not unusual for playwrights and other authors, and directors for that matter, to have small parts in their own productions. Take Alfred Hitchcock for instance.’
‘Hmm. Take Brian Sands, for example,’ mused Eloise Mordaza. ‘Every inch a butler for the purpose of the play. But in private life I believe he’s something of a shambling, bohemian recluse.’
‘I do think you’re attracted to him,’ said Laura with a giggle.
The Director blushed, another coup for Laura.
‘But a comic strip artist/writer?’ said Alison dubiously.
‘Comic strips here, called bandes dessinees, have a high status,’ rejoined the Playwright. ‘Everyone reads them, adults too. Take Tintin or Asterix. They’re bandes dessinees.’
‘The other men look good too,’ said the Director.
‘Do you think Noir is really a Count?’ asked Alison. ‘We’d been rehearsing with him for a long time and he never says much about himself. But I can see that he’s right at home here. He speaks the language fluently, as I guess he should.’
‘And that monocle he wears is to die for,’ sighed Laura wistfully.
Laura contributed to their gossip. ‘I’m almost certain Cordelia is an aristocrat, the way she holds herself, those long legs, her tall straight body, and that beautiful long dark hair. One of the few women I’ve seen who wears a bob well.’
‘She certainly wears those ropes well,’ said the Director with a sigh. ‘Now that was a good piece of casting. But they’re all good. We’ve nurtured them through the rehearsals with very few hiccups, haven’t we Delly?’
‘It all comes from regular rehearsals. You don’t succeed in the arts without a lot of hard work,’ said Delia Biancoflore with a sigh. ‘Which reminds me, there’s always room to rehearse a scene at informal moments. Do you think we have time before the party?’
There was going to be an early morning party for the cast and theatre crew, to be held in the Baillon Room at a five star hotel on the other side of the city.
‘I think so,’ said the Director, ‘That short scene you and Laura were working on privately last week?’
‘Mm hmm.’
‘Right. Extemporise, Laura. Use that plastic banana from the faux fruit bowl there.’
*
The muzzle of Laura’s pistol was sighted steadily on Alison.
‘You were wrong to assume that I was an innocent party,’ Laura said chillingly. ‘Of course, I was in it with Clive.’ She waved the gun menacingly. ‘Now it’s my turn to do a little tying up.’
‘But ... ‘
‘No buts,’ Alison dear,’ Laura said coldly. ‘Now, Madame Director and Madame Playwright, kindly remove your outer garments.’
Eloise and Delia reluctantly removed their dresses. Beneath her blue silk shirt-maker Delia wore a full slip of diaphanous black lace. Eloise wore a bra and white silk half-slip beneath her pink silk blouse and narrow black skirt.
‘Now,’ Laura continued. ‘Sit down, put your hands behind the chair backs. Alison, tie their wrists. You can use those clean table napkins. Roll them up nice and thin, and tied them tight!’
As she watched Alison at work on the two women, she continued speaking. ‘It’s a shame about Clive, but prison is the best place for him. I’ve already siphoned off a lot of the loot, and now I’m getting away scot free ... Right, move over there while I inspect your rope work.’
‘Is this really necessary?’ asked Delia.
‘Oh yes,’ Laura replied as Alison made her way to the other side of the room. Walking behind the two chairs, she checked first Delia’s wrist bonds, then those of Eloise.
‘And you talk too much,’ she continued.
Laura took up a table napkin from the large stack, folded it to a triangle, and rolled it into a thick band. She twisted it in the centre before inserting it between the Playwright’s jaws. An impartial observer would have seen faint traces of a smile play around the Director’s lips as she opened her mouth to receive the gag. When Laura had gagged the Director in the same way, she turned to Alison.
‘Right, Alison. Your turn to strip.’
Silently Alison unzipped her dress. The silk rustled softly to the floor, revealing Alison’s black bra, half cup and lacy like one of Laura’s, skimpy black string-sided panties and a black suspender belt and stockings.
‘Good,’ said Laura. ‘I intend to leave Delia and Eloise here. But I’m going to take you with me. But first I have to secure you. Get on the floor, on your front, with your hands together behind you.’
Alison did as she was told. Laura collected more table napkins. Pocketing the gun, she busied herself with Alison’s wrists, tying them first one way with two loops of a napkin, and then another way with the second napkin, applying frapping corners to cinch the bonds tight. She wound another napkin around Alison’s upper arms. ‘Let’s see if I can do better than Clive.’ Laura tugged until she had crunched the joints together. As soon as she had tied it off, she rolled Alison onto her back. Alison winced as she took her weight on her arms.
‘Hmm, now that you’re nicely thrust out, let’s do your legs.’
Alison tried to kick out as Laura took up another napkin. But Laura sat on her thighs to bind and cinch her ankles. Standing, she reversed her position to tie Alison ‘s legs below the knees.
‘Now for your gag.’
Laura picked up another table napkin. ‘At this rate, we’ll use up the hotel’s supply,’ she quipped. ‘I know. You probably have a handkerchief in your bag. Two? Even better.’
Soon, Laura had Alison’s mouth full and with her fingers was testing the pressure on her cheeks, as Clive had done to her. She tied a thin tube of cloth through Alison’s mouth to hold the packing in place before using a second napkin folded into a broad bandage over her mouth, so that her lower face was covered from below her nose to her chin.
Laura stood back from her squirming prisoner.
‘You wear your bonds and gag so well. You know, Alison dear, when I’ve finished playing with you, I think I’ll sell you.’
*
Laura stood back, facing the Director and the Playwright.
‘Bravo,’ cried Delia Biancoflore, standing and clapping her hands.
Laura stood back and took a bow, but with a sense of disappointment to see that Delia was free of her bonds. Then she remembered, the Playwright was an accomplished escape artist.
‘Thank you,’ Laura said, glowing. ‘Here, allow me.’ She moved across to the Director and unfastened her wrists while the Playwright freed Alison.
‘I’ve just had a wonderful idea for our next production,’ exclaimed Delia. ‘Sold to the Highest Bidder. I do love a play within a play.’
‘We’d better, ahem, dress for the party,’ said the Director as she scooped up her skirt and blouse from the floor.
A few minutes later, as the four women were about to leave for the fun wearing light silky overcoats, Alison paused and picked something up from the coffee table.
‘What do you think of our new programme cover?’ She held it up.
‘We-ell,’ said Laura, ‘If that’s supposed to be a representation of me, I’m definitely overdressed for the part!’
*
WHERE THERE’S A WILL: A Play
By
Delia Biancoflore
Directed by
Eloise Mordaza
Ligotage Theatre Royale, Rue D’Attache, Paris with an international cast.
Adapted from the Bande Dessinee, Faux Projet by Brian Sands
Blanche White the good-time society girl Cordelia White
Gertrude Black the scheming aunt Alison Blau
Tilly Kettle the cook Delia Biancoflore
James Butler the butler Brian Sands
Colonel Red Killem the retired military officer Briccone Quattro
Rex Barker the Detective Inspector Jeb Delch
Rod Pierce the adventurer Noir le Comte de Plaisance
Dolores Beaucoeur the young heiress Laura Celeste
In homage to the drama of Francis Durbridge.
[Ivoire, from Grimbor’s Distressed Crimefighteress Page, European Wing, French & Belgian Comics, contributed to DC by Nicolas. The gag has been added.]
*
ACT THREE, SCENE 5.
THE DRAWING ROOM, SOME HOURS LATER. Cont.
VOICE OFF-STAGE: Not so fast, Detective Inspector!
The DETECTIVE INSPECTOR looks around indecisively. A figure emerges from the entrance to the secret passage. It is THE ADVENTURER Rod Pierce. He is wearing the overcoat that he had on before. A large automatic pistol is in his hand.
THE ADVENTURER: I advise you to place that gun slowly and carefully on the table, Inspector. (The DETECTIVE INSPECTOR looks towards GERTRUDE and complies reluctantly). Good. Now ... (THE ADVENTURER straightens up and advances into the room). Are you there, Major? (The MILITARY MAN enters lower stage right. He is carrying a large and ancient revolver).
MILITARY MAN: I waited as you suggested, in case they tried to escape through the kitchen. A smart strategy.
THE ADVENTURER: Good man. But there’s no need to wave that old fire-piece around. Our friend has seen sense.
MILITARY MAN: Dem it, no excitement then. (He returns the revolver to a large holster on a belt under his overcoat).
THE ADVENTURER: (Turning his attention more squarely to the DETECTIVE INSPECTOR). You might as well know that we have had you and your accomplice Madam Gertrude Black surrounded for some time. (Raising his voice). You may join us too, James. (The door opens centre right stage and James THE BUTLER enters. In his hand he is carrying a rusty poker. He stands to attention inside the doorway).
THE BUTLER: An excellent plan, Sir, if I may say so.
THE ADVENTURER: Old Zulu fighting tactic, the horns of the buffalo. You and the good Major here are the horns, and I am ...
GERTRUDE: The head. Oh bravo Rod, very clever metaphor but a little dated. (She starts to walk towards stage centre).
THE ADVENTURER: Stay right there, Madam Black. We don’t need the centre of this room more crowded than necessary. And you, Inspector, please be seated. (He indicates the chair facing the sofa). And sit on your hands so that we can be assured there are no sudden movements.
GERTRUDE: There’s no need for such precautions. Rex ... Inspector Barker ... put down his gun voluntarily. You will find that it’s not loaded. We used it only to persuade our interfering ladies to make a minimum of fuss.
THE ADVENTURER: While you bound and gagged them. Kidnapping is a grave crime.
GERTRUDE: But the only one we’re guilty of.
THE ADVENTURER: I’m not so sure about that. But there will be time enough to sort out those matters when the police arrive. In the meantime, kindly untie Miss White. Since you bound her, it is fitting that you now untie her. (GERTRUDE hesitates, then shrugs and walks behind the SOCIETY GIRL and begins to untie her bonds).
THE ADVENTURER: James, assist me with this victim who I believe is Miss Dolores Beaucoeur.
THE BUTLER: Indeed Sir, the poor lady has already been bound for too long since we arrived.
He steps forward and with a pocketknife begins to cut the ropes that hold the satin sheet tight around its victim. The ropes fall away and the person in the wrappings is lowered gently to the floor then rolled carefully over and over until the satin sheet is unwound and falls from her body. It is DOLORES. She is bound hand and foot, blindfolded with a white cloth, and gagged with a wide blue silk scarf that covers her mouth, wearing only panties and bra in translucent white lace. THE BUTLER removes her blindfold. She looks from one rescuer to the other with wide frightened eyes.
THE BUTLER: Steady, my dear. It’s all right now. (He raises DOLORES, supporting her back with one hand until she is sitting). Lean on me. I’ll have this off you in a moment. (DOLORES sags back against THE BUTLER while with both hands he unties the knot at the back of her neck. When the cloth drops from her face, DOLORES ejects the gag from her mouth and starts coughing. The gag is a wadded white handkerchief).
DOLORES: Oh god. I couldn’t breathe. I thought I was going to die. (She sees the DETECTIVE INSPECTOR sitting in the chair only a few feet from her and shrinks back from him). Keep him away!
THE BUTLER: They can’t harm you now, my dear. The game is up. Mr Pierce saw through their scheme. The house has been under surveillance for the last hour. (He begins to free DOLORES of her bonds).
GERTRUDE: (Now standing beside the chair where the SOCIETY GIRL is rubbing her wrists shakily, the gag still hanging loose around her neck). Oho, so the police finished with you quicker than we expected.
THE ADVENTURER: In a manner of speaking, yes. The truth is that the Major and I have been working with the police, since things did not appear right about the line of questioning our dear Detective Inspector here was pursuing. There were weaknesses in Madam Black’s alibi that the Inspector missed, or chose to ignore. So we did a little detective work ourselves. There is, first, the matter of the Will. Second, the old lady’s ...
DOLORES: (Interrupting). I- I think I can help. (She is sitting on the edge of the sofa, having wrapped the satin sheet around her). When I was lying in my room gagged and bound and wrapped up, I heard someone moving the brick in the wall where I hid the Will. Whoever it was, they must have taken it.
THE ADVENTURER: Did you see your attacker?
DOLORES: No, I’m sorry. I was exhausted from lying for hours bound in that horrible monk’s cell and I was asleep. I only realised that I was being tied up again when the gag was stuffed in my mouth. By the time I opened my eyes, I was blindfolded and someone was wrapping the sheet around me. I - I must have been put on the floor under the bed, because I could hear Cook calling my name and then the sounds of other people. The sounds were very faint because my head was wrapped up so tightly. I couldn’t move or cry out. Then, it must have been later that I heard the brick in the wall being moved. I think I passed out. The next thing I remember was being pulled out from under the bed, or wherever I had been placed. I think it was a man. It felt like a man’s hands, the way he touched me.
THE ADVENTURER: We have proof that it was a man, right here. (He produces a thick folded document from the inside pocket of his overcoat and holds it up to show the official seal). Where there’s a Will there are ways ... Is this the Will that you were holding, Miss Beaucoeur?
DOLORES: Why yes. It looks like it. But how did you find it? And how does it tell you that it was a man who tied me up? It might just as well have been Madam Gertrude Black here, because I know she tied me up before, when I was being held in that horrible cell.
THE ADVENTURER: Very simple. I found it in the room our Detective Inspector was using.
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: That’s a lie! I’ve never seen that document before.
THE ADVENTURER: Then how do you explain that it was lying in a secret compartment in your suitcase?
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: Secret - ? You bastard, how did you ...?
THE ADVENTURER: Aha, so you admit it.
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: I admit nothing.
GERTRUDE: The Will, what were you going to do with it?
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: (Obviously rattled). I- I was keeping it for you, my dear. For us.
GERTRUDE: I don’t believe you, you worm! You were going to take it and leave me with nothing. You knew I couldn’t hold the two young women on my own.
MILITARY MAN: (To GERTRUDE). You will find it more difficult then to believe that it was our Inspector here who killed the old woman. A crooked cop if ever I saw one!
THE ADVENTURER: You’ve piled one offence upon another. You’ve added kidnapping and attempted fraud to murder, both you and Madam Black your accomplice.
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: You can’t prove murder. I was nowhere near the pond at the time.
THE ADVENTURER: Unfortunately for you, a passing villager recognised you walking across country towards this chateau. You were coming from the direction of the weir at about the time the old woman drowned. And the tails of your overcoat were wet. The farmer was afraid to mention because you are well known in the district for holding grudges, using your position to arrest harmless poachers on flimsy evidence, offences made obsolete two hundred years ago.
MILITARY MAN: We’ve got you to rights now, fellow.
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: This is all nonsense.
THE ADVENTURER: But you slipped up just now when you replied to Madam Black. You’re certainly implicated in the kidnapping of Miss Beaucoeur, and we’ll let the proper authorities deal with the other charges. What we’re doing now is simply making a citizen’s arrest.
SOCIETY GIRL: Why don’t you men stop chattering for a moment and take care of Dolores here? Can’t you see the poor girl’s exhausted? She must have gone through hell.
MILITARY MAN: Yes, we’re forgetting ourselves. Cook is upstairs preparing the bed for Miss Beaucoeur right now. We suspected the poor gel was held here somewhere. And you, Miss White, you must be shaken up too. I suggest you accompany Miss Beaucoeur, and take the opportunity to rest.
SOCIETY GIRL: Thank you. You’re kinder than I expected. That business of the badgers ...
MILITARY MAN: Only a joke, Miss White. Cook took it too much to heart. I really like the little blighters. Culling them in my lexicon means resettling some of their families in adjoining fields to reduce population pressure.
SOCIETY GIRL: I’m so glad. And Cook will be chuffed ... Come on, dear. (She goes to DOLORES and takes her arm, THE BUTLER supporting her on the other side. DOLORES looks up at THE BUTLER with something more than just gratitude in her eyes).
THE BUTLER: We’ll get you away from these horrible people.
The SOCIETY GIRL and THE BUTLER escort DOLORES towards the door centre stage right. GERTRUDE, screened momentarily by their passage from the sight of THE ADVENTURER and the DETECTIVE INSPECTOR, moves to centre stage and the coffee table. As DOLORES and the SOCIETY GIRL reach the door, GERTRUDE takes up the revolver and turns to face the DETECTIVE INSPECTOR.
GERTRUDE: You lying, cheating bastard! (She raises the revolver and aims it point blank at the DETECTIVE INSPECTOR).
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: (Rising to his feet and covering his face with his arms). Gertrude, Gertrude, don’t!
DOLORES: (Calling from the door). Gertrude, for heaven’s sake, no ...
THE ADVENTURER and the MILITARY MAN stand frozen on the spot. The DETECTIVE INSPECTOR turns, flings his arms wide, and runs jerkily towards the door lower stage right. As he reaches it, GERTRUDE fires. The DETECTIVE INSPECTOR stumbles and slumps face forward against the door. GERTRUDE fires again. The DETECTIVE INSPECTOR utters a low moan and slides to the floor where he lies huddled and motionless. GERTRUDE steps forward. As THE ADVENTURER moves to intercept her, the revolver drops from her hand --
the Curtain falls
END
Read the complete version of the play being rehearsed: Where There's A Will.