Night Must Fall | Page 6

matter of fact. He must be a plain-clothes man.
MRS. TERENCE (_sardonically_): Scotland Yard, I should think.
_BELSIZE is seen outside, crossing the left window to the front door._
MRS. BRAMSON: That place in those detective books? Don't be so silly.
MRS. TERENCE: He says he wants to see you very particular--
_A sharp rat-tat at the front door.
(Going to the hall_) On a very particular matter.... (Turning on MRS. BRAMSON) And don't you start callin' me silly!
_Going to the front door, and opening it._
This way, sir....
BELSIZE _enters, followed by_ MRS. TERENCE. _He is an entirely inconspicuous man of fifty, dressed in tweeds: his suavity hides any amount of strength._
BELSIZE: Mrs. Bramson? I'm sorry to break in on you like this. My card ....
MRS. BRAMSON (_taking it, sarcastically_): I suppose you're going to tell me you're from Scotland Ya--(_She sees the name on the card._)
BELSIZE: I see you've all your wits about you!
MRS. BRAMSON: Oh. (_Reading incredulously_) Criminal Investigation Department!
BELSIZE (_smiling_): A purely informal visit, I assure you.
MRS. BRAMSON: I don't like having people in my house that I don't know.
BELSIZE (_the velvet glove_): I'm afraid the law sometimes makes it necessary.
MRS. TERENCE _gives him a chair next the table. He sits_. MRS. TERENCE _stands behind the table._
MRS. BRAMSON (_to her_): You can go.
MRS. TERENCE: I don't want to go. I might 'ave to be arrested for stealing sugar.
BELSIZE: Sugar?... As a matter of fact, you might be useful. Any of you may be useful. Mind my pipe?
_MRS. BRAMSON blows in disgust and waves her hand before her face._
MRS. BRAMSON: Is it about my maid having an illegitimate child?
BELSIZE: I beg your pardon?... Oh no! That sort of thing's hardly in my line, thank God ... Lonely spot ... (_To MRS. TERENCE_) Long way for you to walk every day, isn't it?
MRS. TERENCE: I don't walk. I cycle.
BELSIZE: Oh.
MRS. BRAMSON: What's the matter?
BELSIZE: I just thought if she walked she might use some of the paths, and have seen--something.
(Note: The following pair of lines are spoken simultaneously.)
MRS. BRAMSON: Something of what?
MRS. TERENCE: Something?
BELSIZE: I'll tell you. I--
_A piano is heard in the sun-room, playing the "Merry Widow" waltz.
(Casually_) Other people in the house?
MRS. BRAMSON (_calling shrilly_): Mr. Laurie!
_The piano stops._
HUBERT'S VOICE (_as the piano stops, in the sun-room_): Yes?
MRS. BRAMSON (_to OLIVIA, sourly_): Did you ask him to play the piano?
_HUBERT comes back from the sun-room._
HUBERT (_breezily_): Hello, house on fire or something?
MRS. BRAMSON: Very nearly. This is Mr.--er--Bel--
BELSIZE: Belsize.
MRS. BRAMSON (_drily_): Of Scotland Yard.
HUBERT: Oh.... (_Apprehensive_) It isn't about my car, is it?
BELSIZE: No.
HUBERT: Oh. (_Shaking hands affably_) How do you do?
BELSIZE: How do you do, sir....
MRS. BRAMSON: He's a friend of Miss Grayne's here. Keeps calling.
BELSIZE: Been calling long?
MRS. BRAMSON: Every day for two weeks. Just before lunch.
HUBERT: Well--
OLIVIA (_sitting on the sofa_): Perhaps I'd better introduce myself. I'm Olivia Grayne, Mrs. Bramson's niece. I work for her.
BELSIZE: Oh, I see. Thanks. Well now ...
HUBERT (_sitting at the table, effusively_): I know a chap on the Stock Exchange who was taken last year and shown over the Black Museum at Scotland Yard.
BELSIZE (_politely_): Really--
MRS. BRAMSON: And what d'you expect the policeman to do about it?
HUBERT: Well, it was very interesting, he said. Bit ghoulish, of course--
BELSIZE: I expect so.... (_Getting down to business_) Now I wonder if any of you've seen anything in the least out of the ordinary round here lately? Anybody called--anybody strange wandering about in the woods--overheard anything?
_They look at one another._
MRS. BRAMSON: The only visitor's been the doctor--and the district nurse.
MRS. TERENCE: Been ever so gay.
HUBERT: As a matter of fact, funny thing did happen to me. Tuesday afternoon it was, I remember now.
BELSIZE: Oh?
HUBERT (_graphically_): I was walking back to my cottage from golf, and I heard something moving stealthily behind a tree, or a bush, or something.
BELSIZE (_interested_): Oh, yes?
HUBERT: Turned out to be a squirrel.
MRS. BRAMSON (_in disgust_): Oh!...
HUBERT: No bigger than my hand! Funny thing to happen, I thought.
BELSIZE: Very funny. Anything else?
HUBERT: Not a thing. By Jove, fancy walking in the woods and stumbling over a dead body! Most embarrassing!
MRS. TERENCE: I've stumbled over bodies in them woods afore now. But they wasn't dead. Oh, no.
MRS. BRAMSON: Say what you know, and don't talk so much.
MRS. TERENCE: Well, I've told 'im all I've seen. A bit o' love now and again. Though 'ow they make do with all them pine-needles beats me.
BELSIZE: Anything else?
MRS. BRAMSON: Miss Grayne's always moping round the woods. Perhaps she can tell you something.
OLIVIA: I haven't seen anything, I'm afraid.... Oh--I saw some men beating the undergrowth--
BELSIZE: Yes, I'm coming to that. But no tramps, for instance?
OLIVIA: N-no, I don't think so.
HUBERT: "Always carry a stick's" my motto. I'd like to see a tramp try anything on with me. Ah-ha! Swish!
MRS. BRAMSON: What's all the fuss about? Has there been