Free The Mousetrap and Other Plays by Agatha Christie Page A

right. What next, boys? Bees? Do they keep bees on the island? ( They stare at him as if not understanding. He keeps his nonchalant manner up with a trace of effort. Down to Centre ) Well, that’s the next verse, isn’t it?
    â€œSix little Indian boys playing with a hive;
    A bumble bee stung one, and then there were five.” ( He moves around the room. )
    ARMSTRONG . My God! He’s right. There are only five.
    LOMBARD . A bumble bee stung one— We all look pretty spry, nothing wrong with any of us. ( His glance rests on EMILY ) My God, you don’t think—( He goes slowly over to her, bends down, touches her. He then picks up a hypodermic syringe, and turns to face the others ) A hypodermic syringe.
    WARGRAVE . The modern beesting.
    VERA . ( Stammering ) While she was sitting there—one of us—
    WARGRAVE . One of us.
    ( They look at each other. )
    ARMSTRONG . Which of us?
    CURTAIN

ACT THREE
    Scene I
    Some hours later, the same night.
    The curtains are drawn and the room is lit by three candles. WARGRAVE , VERA , BLORE , LOMBARD and ARMSTRONG , who is dirty and unshaven, are sitting in silence. LOMBARD sits chair Right Centre, ARMSTRONG on Right sofa , WARGRAVE Left sofa , VERA on fender , BLORE down Left. From time to time they shoot quick, covert glances at each other. VERA watches ARMSTRONG ; BLORE watches LOMBARD ; LOMBARD watches WARGRAVE ; ARMSTRONG watches BLORE and LOMBARD alternately. WARGRAVE watches each in turn, but most often VERA with a long, speculative glance. There is silence for some few minutes. Then LOMBARD speaks suddenly in a loud, jeering voice that makes them all jump.
    LOMBARD .
    â€œFive little Indian boys sitting in a row,
    Watching each other and waiting for the blow.”
    New version up to date! ( He laughs discordantly. )
    ARMSTRONG . I hardly think this is a moment for facetiousness.
    LOMBARD . Have to relieve the gloom. ( Rises to above Right sofa ) Damn that electric plant running down. Let’s play a nice round game. What about inventing one called “Suspicions?” A. suspects B., B. suspects C.—and so on. Let’s start with Blore. It’s not hard to guess whom Blore suspects. It sticks out a mile. I’m your fancy, aren’t I, Blore?
    BLORE . I wouldn’t say no to that.
    LOMBARD . ( Crosses to Left a few steps ) You’re quite wrong, you know. Abstract justice isn’t my line. If I committed murder, there would have to be something in it for me.
    BLORE . All I say is that you’ve acted suspiciously from the start. You’ve told two different stories. You came here with a revolver. Now you say you’ve lost it.
    LOMBARD . I have lost it.
    BLORE . That’s a likely story!
    LOMBARD . What do you think I’ve done with it? I suggested myself that you should search me.
    BLORE . Oh! You haven’t got it on you. You’re too clever for that. But you know where it is.
    LOMBARD . You mean I’ve cached it ready for the next time?
    BLORE . I shouldn’t be surprised.
    LOMBARD . ( Crosses Right ) Why don’t you use your brains, Blore? If I’d wanted to, I could have shot the lot of you by this time, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop.
    BLORE . Yes, but that’s not the big idea. ( Points to rhyme. )
    LOMBARD . ( Sits chair Right Centre ) The crazy touch? My God, man, I’m sane enough!
    BLORE . The doctor says there are some lunatics you’d never know were lunatics. ( Looks around at EVERYONE ) That’s true enough, I’d say.
    ARMSTRONG . ( Breaking out ) We—we shouldn’t just sit here, doing nothing! There must be something—surely, surely, there is something that we can do? If we lit a bonfire—
    BLORE . In this weather? ( Jerks his head towards window. )
    WARGRAVE . It is, I am afraid, a question of time and patience. The weather will clear. Then we can do something. Light a bonfire, heliograph, signal.
    ARMSTRONG . ( Rises to up Right ) A question of time—time? (