Night Must Fall | Page 6

OLIVIA _crosses to the medicine cupboard and fetches the medicine._
MRS. TERENCE comes in from the kitchen with a vase of flowers and
barges between the sofa and the wheelchair.
MRS. TERENCE (_muttering_): All this furniture ...
MRS. BRAMSON (_to her_): Did you know she's having a baby?
MRS. TERENCE (_coldly_): She did mention it in conversation.
MRS. BRAMSON: Playing with fire, that's the game nowadays.
MRS. TERENCE (arranging flowers as OLIVIA _ gives_ MRS.

BRAMSON _her medicine_): Playing with fiddlesticks. We're only
young once; that 'ot summer too. She's been a fool, but she's no
criminal. And, talking of criminals, there's a p'liceman at the kitchen
door.
MRS. BRAMSON: A what?
MRS. TERENCE: A p'liceman. A bobby.
MRS. BRAMSON: What does he want?
MRS. TERENCE: Better ask 'im. I know my conscience is clear; I don't
know about other people's.
MRS. BRAMSON: But I've never had a policeman coming to see me
before!
DORA runs in from the kitchen.
DORA (_terrified_): There's a man there! From the p'lice! 'E said
something about the Tallboys! 'E--'e 'asn't come about me, 'as 'e?
MRS. TERENCE: Of course he 'asn't--
MRS. BRAMSON: He may have.
MRS. TERENCE: Don't frighten the girl; she's simple enough now.
MRS. BRAMSON (_sharply_); It's against the law, what she's done,
isn't it? (To DORA) Go back in there till he sends for you.
DORA creeps back into the kitchen.
OLIVIA (_at the left window_): He isn't a policeman, as a 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.