Prisoners_(and_Then_There_Were_None)

Prisoners at the bar, have you anything to say in your defense' (ROGERS drops coffee tray, MRS. ROGERS screams and faints. ARMSTRONG bends over MRS. ROGERS) Armstrong: She's fainted, that's all. She'll be round in a minute. Lombard: (to ROGERS) Get some brandy, man! This is your wife! Help a little! Rogers: Yes, sir. (leaves) Vera: Who was that talking'!' Where was he' It sounded – it sounded –   General: What's going on' What kind of practical joke was that' Lombard: That voice sounded like it was in the room. (looks around) Look! Over there! A CD player! That's the solution to our mystery. Voice: You are charged with the following indictments – Vera: Turn it off, turn it off, it's horrible!   Armstrong: (relieved) A really bad practical joke, I guess. Wargrave: Think it's a joke, do you'  Armstrong: Well, what else could it be' Wargrave: At the moment I'm not prepared to give an opinion. Marston: You guys are forgetting something! Who turned it on' Wargrave: Yes, we must inquire that. (ROGERS enters with brandy, BRENT is bending over MRS. ROGERS) Rogers: Allow me, ma'am, I'll speak to her. Ethel – Ethel – it's all right. All right, you hear me' Pull yourself together. Pull yourself together, Ethel. Armstrong: You'll be all right. Just a nasty shock. Mrs. Rogers: Did I faint, sir' Armstrong: Yep. Dropped like a stone. Mrs. Rogers: It was that horrible voice – like a judgment – (almost faints) Armstrong: All right, where's the brandy' (ROGERS hands brandy to ARMSTRONG) Armstrong: Drink this. Mrs. Rogers: (drinks) I'm all right now. It just – gave me a turn. Rogers: (quickly) Of course it did, it gave me one too. Fair made me drop the tray. Wicked lies – all of it! I'd like to know – (ROGERS interrupted by WARGRAVE coughing) Wargrave: Who put that CD in the player' Was it you, Rogers' Rogers: (cries) I didn't know what it was. Before God, I didn't know what it was, sir! If I had I never would have done it! Wargrave: But I think you'd better explain, Rogers.  Rogers: (wipes his face) I was just obeying orders, sir. That's all. Wargrave: Who's orders' Rogers: Mr. Owen's. I'd find a CD in a drawer and I was to play it. Rather, my wife was supposed to play it while I was in the drawing room. Wargrave: A very remarkable story. Rogers: It's the truth, sir. I swear to God! I didn't know what it was! It had a name on it and I thought it was just a piece of music! General: The whole thing is preposterous – preposterous! Slinging accusations about like this! Something must be done about it. This fellow Owen, whoever he is– Brent: That's just it, who is he' Wargrave: This is exactly what we must go into very carefully. Rogers, get your wife to bed. Then come back here. Rogers: Yes sir. Armstrong: Here, I'll help you, Rogers. (ROGERS, MRS. ROGERS, and ARMSTRONG all leave) Marston: Don't know about you, but I could use a drink! (leaves, comes back with brandy tray) Found them all waiting on a tray outside. (ARMSTRONG and ROGERS return) Wargrave: Now then, Rogers, we have to figure this out. Who's Owen' What do you know about him' Rogers: He owns the place sir. As to what he's like, I don't know. I've never seen him. General: You've never seen him' What do you mean' Rogers: We've only been here just under a week, sir. We were engaged by letter, through an agency. The Regina Agency in Plymouth. Blore: (nods) Old established firm. Wargrave: Do you still have the letter' Rogers: No, I didn't keep it. Wargrave: OK, so keep going. You were engaged by letter... Rogers: We were to arrive on a certain day, which we did. Everything was in order... plenty of food in stock and everything very nice. Just needed to be cleaned up a bit. Wargrave: And' Rogers: We got orders – again by letter – to prepare the rooms for a house party. Then yesterday I got another letter from Mr. Owen. It said that he and Mrs. Owen were held up and to do the best we could. It also gave instructions about dinner and coffee and the CD. Wargrave: You have to have kept that letter! Rogers: Yes, right here. (takes letter out of pocket and hands it to WARGRAVE) Wargrave: Hm. Headed Ritz Hotel and type-written. Blore: If you'd just let me see that. (takes letter) Coronation machine. Quite new – no defects. Ensign papers – the most widely used make. You won't get anything out of that. Might be fingerprints, but I doubt it. (WARGRAVE looks at him with sudden attention) Marston: Got some fancy Christian names, hasn't he' Ulick Norman Owen. Quite a mouthful. Wargrave: I'm obliged to you, Mr. Marston. You have drawn my attention to a curious and suggestive point. (to ALL) I think the time has come for us to pool all our information. Everybody needs to come forward with all the information they have regarding the owner of this house. Brent: There's something really strange about this. When I got my letter, the signature was hard to read. I took the name to be either Ogden or Oliver. I have never met anyone called Owen. Wargrave: Do you have that letter with you' Brent: Yes, here it is. (hands letter to WARGRAVE) Wargrave: (reading) I begin to understand... Miss Claythorne' Vera: I was to be Ms. Owen's secretary. Hired through my agency. Wargrave: Marston' Marston: Old pal of mine, Berkeley told me to come up. Wargrave: (nods) Dr. Armstrong' Armstrong: I was called in professionally. Lombard: Look here, I've just thought of something – Wargrave: In a minute – Lombard: But I – Wargrave: Let's take things slowly, Lombard, shall we' General Macarthur' General: Got a letter from Owen mentioning friends. Haven't kept it, sorry. Wargrave: Lombard' Lombard: (hesitating) Same thing. Wargrave: OK. Just now we had a somewhat disturbing experience. An apparently disembodied voice spoke to us all by name. Among these was a William Henry Blore, who is not among us. There was no Davis mentioned. What have you to say about that, Davis' Davis: Yeah, I guess you've guessed it. I'm not Davis. My name is William Henry Blore. Lombard: I want to add something. Not only have you been parading under a false name, but you're a first class liar. You claim to have lived in South Africa, but I know the place, and I also know that you haven't been there in your life. Marston: Now then, you swine, any explanation' Blore: (throws up hands) You've got it all wrong. I've got my credentials and you can see them. I'm an ex-C.I.D. and now I run a detective agency in New York. I was put on this job by this man Owen, who enclosed a good amount of money and instructions. I was to join the party and watch you all, on the pretext of Ms. Owen's jewels. Ms. Owen my foot! I don't believe there's any such person. Wargrave: I think your conclusions are justified. The initials on all our letters are U.N. Owen – or UNKNOWN! Vera: But that's fantastic – mad! Wargrave: I've no doubt in my own mind that we've been invited here by a madman. Anyway, we will now proceed to the next stage of inquiry. Apparently this person knows a good deal about us and our lives. And along with this he has accused us of very definite things. (GENERAL, VERA, MARSTON all protest at the same time) General: A pack of lies! Vera: It's ridiculous! Wicked! Marston: Don't know what he was getting at! Wargrave: I wish to say this. Our unknown friend accuses me of murdering Edward Seton. I remember this case very well. He was charged with the murder of an elderly woman – defended well – but on our evidence he was – without a doubt – guilty. I summed up accordingly and the jury brought in a verdict of guilty. There was an appeal, it was rejected, and he was executed. My conscience is clear, and justice was done. Armstrong: Did you know anything about Seton before the case' Wargrave: No. I didn't. Armstrong: (to audience) He's lying. I know it. Vera: I'd like to tell you about that child – Cyril Hamilton. I was his nursery governess. He was forbidden to swim out far. One day, when my attention was distracted, he started off. I swam after him... I couldn't get there in time... it was awful... but it wasn't my fault. At the inquest the coroner exonerated me. And his mother was so kind! If even she didn't blame me, why should this awful thing be said' It's not fair... (crying) General: (patting VERA's shoulder) There, there, of course. It's not true. Fellow's a madman. A madman! Got a bee in his bonnet, got hold of the wrong end of the stick all around.... Best really to leave this sort of thing unanswered. However, there's no truth in this, about young Arthur Richmond. He was one of my officers. I sent him on recon – he was killed in action. Lombard: (amused) About those natives – story's true! I left them! Matter of self-preservation. We were lost in the brush. We took the food and left. General: You abandoned your men – left them to starve' Lombard: Not quite the act of a pukka sahib, I'm afraid. But natives don't feel about dying like we Europeans do. Vera: You left them... to die'   Lombard: I left them to die. Marston: John and Lucy Combes. Must've been a couple kids I ran over near Cambridge. Beastly bad luck. Wargrave: (icily) For them or for you' Marston: Well, I was thinking – for me – but of course, you're right, sir. It was bad luck for them too. Of course it was a pure accident. They rushed out of some cottage or other. I had my license endorsed for a year. Beastly nuisance. (shrugs) Well anyway, it wasn't my fault. Just an accident! Rogers: If I may just say a word, sir. Lombard: Go ahead, Rogers. Rogers: There was a mention, sir of me and Mrs. Rogers. And of Miss Brady. There isn't a word of truth in it, sir. My wife and I were with Miss Brady till she died. She was always in poor health, sir, always from the time we came to her. There was a storm, sir, that night – the night she was taken bad. The telephone was out of order. We couldn't get the doctor to her. I went for him, sir, on foot. But he got there too late. We'd done everything possible for her, sir. Devoted to her, that's what we were. Anyone will tell you the same thing. There was never a word said against us. Not a word. Lombard: Oh, yeah' Blore: Came into a little something at her death, though' Right' Rogers: (indignantly) Miss Brady left us a legacy in recognition of our faithful services. And why not, I'd like to know' Lombard: What about yourself, Mr. Blore' Your name was included in the list. Blore: Landor, you mean' That was the bank robbery – London and Commercial. Wargrave: I remember. It didn't come to me before, but I remember the case. Landor was convicted on your evidence. You were the police officer in charge of the case' Blore: Yes. Wargrave: Landor got penal servitude for life and died in Dartmoor a year later. He was a delicate man. Blore: He was a crook. It was he who knocked out the night watchman. The case was quite clear against him. Wargrave: (slowly) You were complimented, I think, on your able handling of the case. Blore: (sulkily) I got my promotion. But I was only doing my duty. Lombard: What a duty-loving, law-abiding lot we all seem to be – myself excepted! What about you, doctor – and your little professional mistake' Illegal operation, was it' Armstrong: I'm at a loss to understand the matter. The name meant nothing to me when it was spoken. What was it – Clees' Close' I really can't remember having a patient of that name, or being connected with a death in any way. The thing's a complete mystery to me. Of course, it's a long time ago. It might possibly be one of my operation cases in the hospital. They come too late, so many of these people do. Then, when the patient dies, they always blame the surgeon. (ALL look at BRENT) Brent: (raising eyebrows) Are you waiting for me to say something' I have nothing to say. Wargrave: Nothing' Brent: Nothing. Wargrave: You reserve your defense' Brent: There is no question of defense. I have always acted in accordance with the dictates of my conscience. I have nothing with which to reproach myself. (There is a slight pause. Finally WARGRAVE clears throat) Wargrave: Our inquiry rests there. Now, Rogers, who else is there on this island besides ourselves and you and your wife' Rogers: Nobody. I'm sure of it. Wargrave: I am not yet clear as the purpose of our Unknown host in getting us to assemble here. But in my opinion this person, whoever he may be, is not sane in the accepted sense of the word. He may be dangerous. In my opinion it would be well for us to leave this place as soon as possible. I suggest that we leave tonight. Rogers: I beg your pardon, sir, but there's no boat on the island. Wargrave: No boat at all' Rogers: No, sir. Wargrave: How do you communicate with the mainland' Rogers: Fred Narracott, he comes over every morning, sir. He brings the bread and the milk and the post, and takes the orders. Wargrave: Then in my opinion it would be well if we all left tomorrow morning as soon as Narracott's boat arrives. (ALL agree except MARSTON) Marston: A bit unsporting, what' We should figure out the mystery before we go. Whole thing's like a detective story. Positively thrilling. Wargrave: At this time in my life, I have no “thrill” desire. Marston: (grinning) The legal life's narrowing! I'm all for crime! Here's to it. (quickly drinks, but chokes badly, falls to the floor, and “dies”. Armstrong jumps up and examines him.)  Armstrong: My God! He's dead! General: Dead: Do you mean that the guy just choked and – and died' Armstrong: You can call it choking if you like. He died of asphyxiation all right. (sniffs glass) General: Never knew a man could die like that – just of a choking fit! Brent: In the midst of life, we are in death. Armstrong: No, a man doesn't die of a mere choking fit. Marston didn't die naturally. Vera: The whiskey – there was something in the whiskey' Armstrong: (nods) Yes. Can't say exactly. Everything points to one of the cyanides. No distinctive smell of Prussic Acid, probably Potassium Cyanide. It acts pretty well instantaneously. (tastes other drinks) No, they're all right. But what's important is that you don't find Potassium Cyanide very commonly, unless you're fighting off wasps... but there are no wasps here. What's more, I don't think any of us were near his glass. Lombard: You mean – he put it in himself' Suicide' Armstrong: Seems like it. Vera: You'd never think that he would kill himself! He was enjoying life! Armstrong: But then – why would he want to commit suicide' Blore: You know doctor, it doesn't seem right. I shouldn't have said that Mr. Marston was suicidal. Armstrong: I agree. Brent: We'd better go to bed, then. Wargrave: Yes. We must get some sleep. Rogers: I haven't cleared the dining room yet. Lombard: Do it in the morning. Armstrong: Is your wife all right' Rogers: I'll go and see, sir. (leaves, comes back) Sleeping beautiful, she is. Armstrong: Good, don't disturb her. Rogers: No,sir. I'll just clear up the dining room and then I'll go to bed. (leaves) (Soon ALL leave)