Free The Mousetrap and Other Plays by Agatha Christie

right if I kept my eyes open.
    BLORE . I’d never have fallen for that.
    LOMBARD . Well, I did. I was bored. God, how I was bored back in this tame country. It was an intriguing proposition, you must admit.
    BLORE . Too vague for my liking.
    LOMBARD . That was the whole charm. It aroused my curiosity.
    BLORE . Curiosity killed the cat.
    LOMBARD . ( Smiling ) Yes, quite.
    VERA . Oh, do go and change, please!
    LOMBARD . I’m going my sweet, I’m going. The maternal instinct I think it’s called.
    VERA . Don’t be ridiculous—
    ( VERA , up Left, collects EMILY ’s cup; goes down Right with it. LOMBARD exits Left 1. )
    BLORE . ( Crosses down Left ) That’s a tall story. If it’s true, why didn’t he tell it to us last night?
    ARMSTRONG . He might have thought that this was exactly the emergency for which he had been prepared.
    VERA . Perhaps it is.
    ARMSTRONG . ( Crosses Right Centre; puts down cup on tabouret and goes Right. ) I hardly think so. It was just Mr. Owen’s little bit of cheese to get him into the trap with the rest of us. He must have known him enough to rely on his curiosity.
    BLORE . If it’s true, he’s a wrong ’un, that man. I wouldn’t trust him a yard.
    VERA . ( Up Centre ) Are you such a good judge of truth?
    ( WARGRAVE enters Left 1. )
    ARMSTRONG . ( With a sudden outburst ) We must get out of here—we must, before it is too late. ( He is shaking violently. )
    ( BLORE sits down Left. )
    WARGRAVE . The one thing we must not do is to give way to nerves. ( Crosses Right above Left sofa. )
    ARMSTRONG . ( Sits on fender ) I’m sorry. ( Tries to smile ) Rather a case of “Physician, heal thyself.” But I’ve been overworked lately and run down.
    WARGRAVE . Sleeping badly?
    ARMSTRONG . Yes. I keep dreaming—Hospital—operations—A knife at my throat—( Shivers. )
    WARGRAVE . Real nightmares.
    ARMSTRONG . Yes. ( Curiously ) Do you ever dream you’re in Court—sentencing a man to death?
    WARGRAVE . ( Sits Left sofa; smiling ) Are you by any chance referring to a man called Edward Seton? I can assure you I should not lose any sleep over the death of Edward Seton. A particularly brutal and cold-blooded murderer. The jury liked him. They were inclined to let him off. I could see. However—( With quiet ferocity ) I cooked Seton’s goose.
    ( EVERYONE gives a little shiver. )
    BLORE . Brr! Cold in here, isn’t it? ( Rises; to Centre. )
    VERA . ( Up Right of window ) I wish Rogers would hurry up.
    BLORE . Yes, where is Rogers? He’s been a long time.
    VERA . He said he’d got to get some sticks.
    BLORE . ( Struck by the word ) Sticks? Sticks? My God, sticks!
    ARMSTRONG . My God! ( Rises, looking at mantelpiece. )
    BLORE . Is another one gone? Are there only six?
    ARMSTRONG . ( Bewildered ) There are only five.
    VERA . Five?
    ( They stare at each other. )
    WARGRAVE . Rogers and Lombard? ( Rises. )
    VERA . ( With a cry ) Oh, no, not Philip!
    ( LOMBARD enters Left 1; meets BLORE rushing out Left 1, calling “Rogers.” )
    LOMBARD . Where the hell is Blore off to like a madman?
    VERA . ( Running to him at Left Centre ) Oh, Philip, I—
    ( WARN Curtain. )
    WARGRAVE . ( Up Right ) Have you seen Rogers?
    LOMBARD . No, why should I?
    ARMSTRONG . Two more Indians have gone.
    LOMBARD . Two?
    VERA . I thought it was you—
    ( BLORE enters Left 1 looking pretty awful. )
    ARMSTRONG . Well, what is it?
    BLORE . ( Only just able to speak. His voice quite unlike itself ) In the—scullery.
    VERA . Is he—?
    BLORE . Oh, yes, he’s dead all right—
    VERA . How?
    BLORE . With an axe. Somebody must have come up behind him whilst he was bent over the wood box.
    VERA . ( Wildly ) “One chopped himself in half—then there were six.” ( She begins laughing hysterically. )
    LOMBARD . Stop it, Vera—Stop it! ( Sits her on Left sofa. Slaps her face. To the OTHERS ) She’ll be all