The Morris League : A Detective Play

A Detective Play by Bassett Kendall

ACT II

The same. About 9.30 p.m.

(Ruggles enters from bar door, papers etc. in hand. He X door R and calls off.)

Ruggles. Landlord! Just a minute.

(Ruggles X L to writing table, where he sits. Enter Guppy,)

Guppy. Did you want me, Sergeant?

Ruggles. Yes. I’ve finished supper. I came in here to write my report.

Guppy. You can have a fire in there

Ruggles. No it doesn’t matter, I’m all right in here. Now, about tonight. From what I’ve heard I’m convinced that the diamond is concealed somewhere in this room.

Guppy. The men from Scotland Yard searched very thoroughly a year ago.

Ruggles. Well, maybe I’m wrong – maybe not. Anyway I’m not taking any risks. Fish or I will be concealed in here all night. Then when the thief comes to retrieve his lest property, we’ve got him.

Guppy. You think Harrison’s in the house now?

Ruggles. I’m certain he is.

Guppy. Oh, Sergeant, which is he?

Ruggles. No, no, Mr. Guppy. I can’t say any more.

Guppy. You’ve seen Shuttleworth?

Ruggles. Oh yes, I’ve seen Shuttleworth.

Guppy. What did you make of him?

Ruggles. You mustn’t try to pump me, Mr. Guppy.

Guppy. I didn’t feel easy about him myself. Did he tell you he had no references since June last year?

Ruggles. I got it cut of him. He was not very communicative.

Guppy. I’ll keep an eye on him too. Would you like me to stay up with you?

Ruggles. No, you must go to bed as usual. By the way, what time do you turn the lights out?

Guppy. Eleven o’clock as a rule.

Ruggles. Any of these people been here before?

Guppy. No.

Ruggles. Good. Then tell them that it’s the rule of the house for the lights to be out at 10. Then go to bed.

Guppy. Very good, Sergeant.

Ruggles. That’s all, thanks. I must get on with my report.

Guppy. You’re sure you won’t have a fire in the sitting room?

Ruggles. No, thanks. (Exit Guppy R.)

(Ruggles continues writing, Enter Sir D. and Lady Grubb and Fraser.)

Fraser. That’s quite the wurrst dinner I’ve had this year.

Lady G. Shocking! And now we are in for an uncomfortable night.

Sir D. Well Lizzie, t’was you wanted to coom, so make the best of it.

Lady G. I am making the best of it. dear. I don’t mind the discomfort, if I can go back to Huddersfield with my diamond. Oh, Sergeant?

Ruggles. Well, my lady?

Lady G. Do you really think there’s any chance of getting back my diamond?

Ruggles. I hope to have it in my hands before the night’s out, my lady.

Sir D. You don’t mean to say ye think Harrison’s in the house now?

Ruggles. You really mustn’t ask me leading questions, Sir David.

Fraser. If ye put twa and twa togither, there’s nae ither meaning to the Sergeant’s remark.

Lady G. Oh, how dreadful! Thank goodness I didn’t bring any other jewellery.

Sir D. Well, you’ve got about £6000 worth on you noo, Lizzie.

Lady G. Yes, but none of my really good pieces.

(Enter Janet.)

Sir D. Come and sit down, Miss Butterwick.

Janet. Thanks.

Sir D. Sergeant’s joost ’inted to us that ’Arrison’s in t’hoose. Janet. Who does he suspect?

Lady G. He couldn’t very well say that, could he, my dear, even if he knew?

(Ruggles stops writing.)

Fraser. Noo – let us employ a little deeductive reasoning ourselves. This is what we ca’ the process of eleemination. It can’t be Lady Grubb or Sir David: equally obviously Miss Butterwick is ruled out. Mr. Jenkinson and young Mr. Brand both submitted to the hair pulling test. That leaves Mr. Haskins and the Professor. Noo, a convict has short hair.

Lady G. That rules out the Professor, then: because he’s got no hair at all.

Sir D. Then it couldn’t be cut short, could it, Lizzie?

Janet. That beard of his is a pretty obvious fake. Remember Harrison is a master of disguise.

Fraser. But would any mon disguise hissen wi a face like naething on airth?

Janet. That’s more likely than that any human being would have a face like the Professor’s.

Sir D. Didn’t it say in t’Daily Mail as ’Arrison ’ad an accomplice?

Janet. Yes.

Sir D. What aboot young Brand? They were t’only ones that came in twos.

Lady G. I believe it’s the waiter.

Sir D. Yon Shuttleworth fellow! Noa – t’poor fellow’s ’alf-witted.

Lady G. Don’t forget ’arri – Harrison was dressed as a waiter when he stole my star.

Fraser. Has anybody pulled Shuttleworth’s hair?

Sir D. Ah’ve not. Ah couldn’t reach it.

Lady G. Your hair isn’t very long, Mr. Fraser.

Fraser. Haskins is ma fancy: he wouldna join the League: he wouldna hae his hairr pulled: he wouldna answer the constable’s questions: he wouldna –

(Enter Haskins. He walks over to the fire and sits. An awkward pause ensues.)

Lady G. What’s everybody else doing?

Sir D. Discussin’ t’usual subject, I dare say.

Haskins. I’m sick of it.

Lady G. I expect you are, Mr. Haskins.

(Enter Jim and Jenkinson in animated conversation.)

Jim. I always think the 8th at Little Popton is the best hole on any course I know.

Jenk. It’s beautifully bunkered.

(Enter Professor.)

Jim. Last time I was here I had a wonderful match. My opponent was dormy two: we were both on the green in two – its a bogey 5 hole, you remember: it was my putt and I laid him a dead stymie.

Prof. I have never fully understood the phraseology of golf. Mr. Fraser, you are a player, I think?

Fraser. Ay, I play four or five times a week.

Prof. Then perhaps you can explain the science of the game to me?

Fraser. Weel – the object of the game is to strike a wee white ba’ with a club and knock it into a hole.

Prof. That seems to me an unnecessary waste of time. However my son is a great enthusiast, and while he amuses himself in hitting a ball about with his dormy, I scour the country for lepidoptera.

Sir D. Ah ’ad to open t’new golf course at ’Uddersfield.

Jim. Did you make a good drive, sir?

Sir D. Noa, ah only made a speech. A chap called Bobby Jones hit off: must ’ave been a Welshman, I think; he didn’t talk English with an English accent laake you and me. He sat next me at lunch. Me and Lady Grubb stood a champagne lunch to 700 people. (Murmurs.) Oo’d like a game of whist?

Fraser. I used to play whist, but it’s mony years syne. I’ll play to make up a game.

Sir D. Do you play, Professor?

Prof. Oh yes – after a fashion. I should like a game: it will take my mind off thieves and diamonds. Now who will be the fourth? Will you join us, Lady Grubb?

Lady G. No, thank you. (Fraser and Sir D. arranging card table C.)

Prof. Mr. Haskins?

Haskins. No, thanks.

Prof. Mr. Jenkinson.

Jenk. Thanks awfully, I’m trying to compose an article for tomorrow.

Sir D. Won’t your son play, Professor?

Jim. Sorry, I’m afraid I’m only a bridge player.

Janet. Same here.

Prof. I’m sorry to disturb you, Officer, but are you a whist player?

Ruggles. Not much of one, I’m afraid.

Prof. Never mind: you shall play with me.

Ruggles. I’m afraid I must finish this report for Scotland Yard, Professor.

Lady G. I hope you are not quoting everything I told you?

Ruggles. I’m only mentioning anything of importance, my lady.

Prof. Well – we seem to be reduced to three –

Sir D. Coom on, Lizzie, you’ll play.

Lady G. Do you think I’ll run the risk of sitting down to play whist with the man who stole my diamond?

(Professor and Fraser pretend not to have heard. Enter Guppy.)

Guppy. Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen I ought to warn you that it’s the rule of the house for the lights to be out at ten,

Jim. What an old-fashioned place.

Guppy. Equality of the classes, sir. Bar closes at ten, lounge closes too. There are candles on that table, ladies and gentlemen.

Prof. Oh well, we have nearly half an hour. Mr. Guppy, are you a whist player?

Guppy. I’m very fond of a game of an evening, sir.

Prof. Will you join us in a rubber, then?

Guppy. Well, thank you, sir, – I shall be honoured.

Lady G. (Pulling Sir D.’s coat.) Don’t demean yourself by playing whist with an innkeeper, dear.

Sir D. All raaht, Lizzie: it’ll never be known in ’Uddersfield.

(Four sit down to whist.)

Lady G. (who is looking at the Tatler,) Oh, how nice, Here’s such a good photo of the Queen. Such an affable woman, I think: have you met her, Mr. Brand?

Jim. Not very often. (Winks at Jenk.)

(During this next speech Shuttle brings in notes which he hands to Haskins, Prof., Jim, Fraser and Jenkinson. They receive them with comments such as: “for me?” “what’s this?” etc., looking mystified.)

Lady G. My ’us – husband, Sir David, was mayor of Huddersfield last year, Miss Butterwick. And when the King and Queen came down to open the new wing of the Hospital, we had to entertain them to luncheon. The King was most amusing at luncheon – he kept me in fits of laughter: do you knew what he said to me: “I have never had a meal before with such delightful grub.” Wasn’t it clever? A play on my name, you see.

Janet. Yes, I saw that.

Lady G. And after luncheon I had such a nice talk with the Queen: a real womanly woman that’s what I call her

(the recipients of the notes have looked at them quite mystified.)

Jenk. What on earth –?

Prof. How very mysterious.

Haskins. Bah! (Crumples it up but puts it in his pocket.)

Prof. Who brought these notes, waiter?

Shuttle. Dunno, sir. I found them in the letter box in the bar, sir.

Jenk. Mine’s an acrostic.

Others. So’s mine.

Jim. Are they all the same? (All compare notes round card table.)

All. By George, they are. What’s it mean? Where on earth have they come from, (etc.)

Jenk. By Gad, it’s a clue to where the diamond’s hidden.

(Ruggles turns round interested.)

Lady G. Well I think I might have had one, then.

Sir D. Much more likely to be a silly practical joke.

Haskins. Obviously.

Lady G. Aren’t we allowed to hear it?

Jim. Road it out, Dad.

Prof. Just as you like:-

If you really want to find
What is upmost in your mind,

Lady G. That must be my diamond: I haven’t stopped –

Sir D. Don’t interrupt, Lizzie.

Lady G. Oh, very well, dear.

Fraser. Begin again, Professor.

Prof.

If you really want to find
What is upmost in your mind,
You must solve this little riddle
And you’ll find it in the middle.

Upright No.1 is nothing,
Number two is only stuffing.
But if you add one to two,
Then perhaps it’s under you.

That’s all the poem.

Lady G. It doesn’t seem to mean anything – How can you find a diamond in the middle of a riddle?

Sir D. How many laahts is there?

Jim. Four.

(Some of them begin writing down notes.)

Prof. Upright no one is nothing.

Lady G. How can one be nothing?

Prof. It might be zero.

Sir D. Or nowt.

Jenk. Slang’s not allowed in acrostics.

Fraser. Number two is only stuffing –

Sir D. Doan’t ye stuff Ducks with sage?

Guppy. And onions, sir.

Jenk. Onions won’t go in.

Guppy. Oh yes, we always put in onions, sir.

Jim. Let’s try sage.

Janet. Zero sage doesn’t get us very far.

Jenk. Let’s try some lights!

Prof. “Most things are burnt up in a flame,

If I’m burnt, I’m still the same.”

Jim. Phoenix.

Sir D. Isn’t Phoenix an Insurance Company?

Prof. But surely a new Phoenix rises from the ashes of an old one: that is hardly being the same.

Jenk. Well, you ought to know, sir, as a naturalist.

Prof. There was a fabulous creature called the Salamander, which according to tradition lived in fire.

Fraser. If it lived in fire, would it be burnt by it?

Prof. That is certainly a possible objection. Still, I think it would be worth trying Salamander. That gives us S-R. The second light is this:

I killed the snakes I came across;

A Latin word take off by force.

Janet. How’s that punctuated?

Jim. Semicolon after across.

Jenk. Didn’t Hercules kill some snakes?

Prof. He did, but he can hardly be said to have come across them: he was in his cradle. It would be more accurate to say that they came across him.

Jim. What’s the Latin for “to take off by force?”

Prof. Abripio, possibly.

Jenk. Let’s go on to the next.

Prof. With British troops I was at war

In eighteen hundred and eighty four.

Jim. Cetewayo.

Jenk. 1874 the Zulu War.

Fraser. Are ye quite certain of that, Mr. Jenkinson?

Jenk. I’ll bet an even five bob on it.

Fraser. Noa – I’ll no bet. But Ah think ye’re wrang.

Jim. Got any history books, Mrs. Guppy?

Guppy. I think there’s one in the sitting room. (Rises and exit L.)

Sir D. Eighteen ’undred and eighty four: wasn’t that the year you was born, Lizzie?

Lady G. David!

Sir D. Well, its nowt to be ashamed of: ye’re only forty four.

Janet. What about Mahdi?

Jim.

Jenk. Mahdi – good.

Lady G. Oh yes, that’s the French for Wednesday, isn’t it?

Fraser. Is it? Lady Grubb? I didna ken that.

Lady G. No, but Sir David and I have travelled a good deal in France.

Prof. Let us assume that Mahdi is right: then if my conjecture of Salamander is correct, we have S blank M blank R blank I blank.

Guppy. This is the only history book I can find, sir: “The History of England down to the Norman Conquest.”

Fraser. That stops a leetle short of 1884.

Jenk. No matter, we’ve got that one. Look here I’m not satisfied with Salamander. Have you got an English dictionary, Mr. Guppy?

Guppy. Yes, sir.

Fraser. And we shall want an atlas for number four.

Guppy. There’s a big atlas somewhere, sir. (Exit Guppy.)

Janet. Can we hear the fourth light, Professor?

Prof. Oh certainly – yes:

Here you ought

To find the port.

Jenk. London

Fraser. Glasgae

Sir D. ’Ull.

Prof. It seems to me a most insufficient clue: some hint as to the country or at least the continent should be given.

Fraser. I mind as a boy being asked in a Geography examination to name all the ports that a vessel would ca’ at between London and Shanghai. The only port I could mind was New York and that appeared to be in the wrang direction.

Prof. I think we had better go back to number 2.

Lady G. (Injured.) I don’t see how I can be expected to help without a copy of the acrostic.

Jenk. Use mine, Lady Grubb.

Lady G. Thank you.

Jim. Oh dash; my fountain pen’s leaking. I must get some blotting paper from the other room.

Ruggles. Here’s some, sir.

Jim. No, no – you’re using that.

Ruggles. It doesn’t matter, sir, I’ve nearly finished.

Jim. Oh really, I can easily get some. (Exit Jim L.)

Ruggles. You’ll excuse me, I’m sure – but I suppose you all realise that you’re making a big assumption?

Prof. In what way, Officer?

Ruggles. Well, sir, you’re assuming that in your puzzle is a clue to where the diamond is hidden –

Prof. Yes, well – it seems to point to that.

Ruggles. Then you believe these notes came from Harrison?

Prof. No, I didn’t say that.

(Enter Shuttle.)

Ruggles. Harrison is the only man alive who knows where Lady Grubb’s diamond is concealed.

Shuttle. Will you take anything before going to bed, gentlemen? Several voices. No, thanks.

Shuttle. Then goodnight, gentlemen.

All. Goodnight. (Exit Shuttle.)

Jenk. The waiter brought in the notes, didn’t he?

Several. Yes.

Jenk. I suppose he can’t have written them?

Janet. You mean, he may be Harrison?

Ruggles. Anyone may be Harrison.

Prof. Yes, the question is, who is?

Ruggles. All I mean, ladies and gentlemen, is this: either this puzzle is just a practical joke, or Harrison wrote it. Now, if Harrison wrote it did he bring it to the bar from outside the hotel. There’s a constable watching the doors and by my orders the bar has been closed all the evening. Very well, then: Harrison did not drop those notes in the letter box from outside. That forces us to the conclusion that if this puzzle is really a clue Harrison must be staying in the Hotel.

Haskins. (Rising.) Well, I’m off to bed. Goodnight.

(Everyone starts as he speaks, and no one answers. In complete silence he takes his candle and exit upstairs R.)

Lady G. ’Arrison.

Sir D. Stuff and nonsense.

Lady G. I never saw such a look of guilt in my life.

Ruggles. Harrison’s not the man to look guilty, my Lady: he’s too cool a hand.

Prof. Nevertheless, Sergeant, your logical reasoning may have thrown him momentarily off his balance.

Ruggles. I don’t think so, sir.

Fraser. Haskins had a copy of the acrostic, didn’t he?

Jenk. Yes.

Janet. Mightn’t that have been a blind?

Lady G. Of course it was.

(Jim re-enters.)

Ruggles. Now, let us assume that Harrison is staying in the Hotel, and that he wrote the puzzle: it would be very easy for him to drop them in the letter-box in the bar: that’s clear enough. But what we have to look for is the motive – what could be his motive for revealing the place where the diamond is concealed?

Jim. That’s what’s been worrying me all the evening.

Lady G. Perhaps his conscience pricked him when he met me.

Ruggles. You don’t know Harrison as well as I do, my lady.

Lady G. Oh, do you know him?

Ruggles. When I say I, I mean we, the police.

Lady G. Oh, I see.

Ruggles. Well, ladies and gentlemen, that’s all I have to say. I don’t want you to sit up all night puzzling over what may be only a harmless joke. One thing is certain: whoever wrote those notes must be inside the hotel now. You must decide for yourself whether you think it was Harrison himself or someone pulling your legs. (He turns back to his report.)

Lady G. Oh, Officer.

Prof. After Sergeant Ruggles’ very clear and carefully reasoned exposition, what do you all say? I do not myself feel inclined to spend the entire night having my leg pulled.

Fraser. I shall risk that, Professor. It isna often that one has the chance of solving an acrostic with a prize of £5000 attached.

Sir D. Fahve thoosand – oh, ah see, you mean Lady Grubb’s reward.

Fraser. Precisely. Whoever finds the diamond, I presume wins the reward.

Lady G. Unless Sir David or I find it.

Jenk. It’s a tempting bait.

Sir D. Ah should think so. Why, you could sell your Morris and buy a couple of Rollses.

Prof. I take it, then, that the general feeling is for continuing the acrostic.

All. Yes.

Prof. Very good. No.2 light:

I killed the snakes I came across;

A Latin word take off by force.

It occurred to me a moment ago that a mongoose kills snakes. Now, haven’t I read somewhere a childish story about a mongoose?

Lady G. Oh yes, by Robert Louis Stevenson, isn’t it?

Fraser. Kipling, I think.

Lady G. Yes – Rumplestiltskin.

Janet. Rikki-tikki-tavi

Prof. Vi – Latin, by force. I’ve got it, Vi!

Jim. We, Dad.

Prof. No, I thought of it. Take off vi: that leaves Rikki-tikki-ta. R-A.

(Enter Guppy with two books.)

Guppy. I am sorry to have been so long, Sirs. I found the atlas upstairs after a long hunt.

Prof. Now for the port.

Guppy. Very good, sir: It’s not quite closing time. I’ll bring a bottle up from the cellar.

All. (Except Lady G. and Ruggles.) Cellar!

Lady G. (Alarmed.) Why? Is Harrison coming?

Prof. Cellar. Here you ought to find the port. One does find port in the cellar. C-R.

Guppy. Will you have the best port, sir?

Prof. No, you have given us the port we want, thank you.

Guppy. In that case, I’ll say Goodnight.

All. Goodnight, Mr. Guppy. (Guppy goes upstairs to L.)

Prof. Most things are altered in a flame.

Guppy. It’s nearly ten o’clock, ladies and gentlemen. You wont forget about the lights. Goodnight.

All. (Abstractedly.) Goodnight.

(Exit Guppy.)

Prof. Most things are altered in a flame.

Ruggles. Well, that’s done. I’m turning in before the lights go out. Goodnight.

All. Goodnight, Sergeant. (Or Officer.)

Lady G. Oh, Officer, is your room on that landing?

Ruggles. Yes, my lady.

Lady G. Near Mr. Haskins?

Ruggles. Next door, I believe.

Lady G. Oh, I’m so glad. Goodnight.

(Ruggles has just reached the top of R stairs, when there is a terrific thumping on the door. All jump.)

Fish. (Outside.) Sergeant! Let me in! Sergeant!

(Jim is nearest to the door and unbolts it. Fish enters, frenzied with excitement.)

Fish. A horrid thing’s ’appened, Sergeant! A man’s been murdered!

(All the lights go out suddenly. Lady G. screams.)

Jenk. Who’s got a match?

(Almost everyone lights a match. The candles are lit.)

Ruggles. Now, Constable, tell us about it.

Fish. They’re bringing the murdered man back to the Station.

Ruggles. Where was he found?

Fish. Be’ind a ’edge – bout a mile back on the Peterborough road. Doctor says ’es bin dead more ’n seven hours.

Ruggles. Then it may have been someone who’s now in the hotel.

Lady G. But we’ve none of us been murdered.

Ruggles. I meant the murderer.

Lady G. Oh, how dreadful. Luckily Sir David brought a revolver with him.

Ruggles. Has the body been identified?

Fish. They do say it’s one of the police sergeants from Peterborough.

Ruggles. This is very serious. Excuse me, ladies and gentleman, I must give the constable some instructions.

Prof. I suggest that we go to bed; and leave matters in the safe hands of the police.

Fraser. Quite so, Professor.

(All murmur assent. They mount the stairs talking on the way up. Lady G. about Sir D.’s revolver, etc., etc., At the top of the stairs they all look over and say Goodnight to the two policemen .)

Ruggles. Now, Constable, I’m going over to the Police Station to make inquiries. You stop here: keep in concealment. And keep your eyes open: I’ll relieve you later,

Fish. All right, Sergeant.

Ruggles. Can’t say how long I shall be. If you want me blow your whistle loud: I shall hear it across the road, Blow out that candle.

Fish. Orl right. (Ruggles goes to door.) Sergeant.

Ruggles. Well?

Fish. It must have been one of they darned Morriseses.

CURTAIN