The Real Inspector Hound and Other Plays (6 page)

CYNTHIA
: It’s coming this way—it’s right outside the house!
(
MRS. DRUDGE
enters
.)

MRS. DRUDGE
: Inspector Hound!

CYNTHIA
: A
police
dog?
(
Enter
INSPECTOR HOUND.
On his feet are his swamp boots. These are two inflatable—and inflated—pontoons with flat bottoms about two feet across. He carries a foghorn
.)

HOUND
: Lady Muldoon?

CYNTHIA
: Yes.

HOUND
: I came as soon as I could. Where shall I put my foghorn and my swamp boots?

CYNTHIA
: Mrs. Drudge will take them out. Be prepared, as the Force’s motto has it, eh, Inspector? How very resourceful!

HOUND
(
divesting himself of boots and foghorn
): It takes more than a bit of weather to keep a policeman from his duty.
(
MRS. DRUDGE
leaves with chattels. A pause
.)

CYNTHIA
: Oh—er, Inspector Hound—Felicity Cunningham, Major Magnus Muldoon.

HOUND
: Good evening.
(
He and
CYNTHIA
continue to look expectantly at each other
.)

CYNTHIA AND HOUND
(
together
): Well?—Sorry——

CYNTHIA
: No, do go on.

HOUND
: Thank you. Well, tell me about it in your own words—take your time, begin at the beginning and don’t leave anything out.

CYNTHIA
: I beg your pardon?

HOUND
: Fear nothing. You are in safe hands now. I hope you haven’t touched anything.

CYNTHIA
: I’m afraid I don’t understand.

HOUND
: I’m Inspector Hound.

CYNTHIA
: Yes.

HOUND
: Well, what’s it all about?

CYNTHIA
: I really have no idea.

HOUND: HOW
did it begin?

CYNTHIA
: What?

HOUND
: The... thing.

CYNTHIA
: What thing?

HOUND
(
rapidly losing confidence but exasperated
): The trouble!

CYNTHIA
: There hasn’t
been
any trouble!

HOUND
: Didn’t you phone the police?

CYNTHIA
: No.

FELICITY
: I didn’t.

MAGNUS
: What for?

HOUND
: I see. (
Pause
.) This puts me in a very difficult position.
(
A steady pause
.) Well, I’ll be getting along, then. (
He moves towards the door
.)

CYNTHIA
: I’m terribly sorry.

HOUND
(
stiffly
): That’s perfectly all right.

CYNTHIA
: Thank you so much for coming.

HOUND
: Not at all. You never know, there might have been a serious matter.

CYNTHIA
: Drink?

HOUND
: More serious than that, even.

CYNTHIA
(
correcting
): Drink before you go?

HOUND
: No thank you. (
Leaves
.)

CYNTHIA
(
through the door
): I do hope you find him.

HOUND
(
reappearing at once
): Find who, Madam?—out with it!

CYNTHIA
: I thought you were looking for the lunatic.

HOUND
: And what do you know about that?

CYNTHIA
: It was on the radio.

HOUND
: Was it, indeed? Well, that’s what I’m here about, really. I didn’t want to mention it because I didn’t know how much you knew. No point in causing unnecessary panic, even with a murderer in our midst.

FELICITY
: Murderer, did you say?

HOUND
: Ah—so that was not on the radio?

CYNTHIA
: Whom has he murdered, Inspector?

HOUND
: Perhaps no one—yet. Let us hope we are in time.

MAONUS
: You believe he is in our midst, Inspector?

HOUND
: I do. If anyone of you have recently encountered a youngish good-looking fellow in a smart suit, white shirt, hatless, well-spoken—someone possibly claiming to have just moved into the neighbourhood, someone who on the surface seems as sane as you or I, then now is the time to speak!

FELICITY
: I——

HOUND
: Don’t interrupt!

FELICITY
: Inspector——

HOUND
: Very well.

CYNTHIA
: No. Felicity!

HOUND
: Please, Lady Cynthia, we are all in this together. I must ask you to put yourself completely in my hands.

CYNTHIA
: Don’t, Inspector. I love Albert.

HOUND
: I don’t think you quite grasp my meaning.

MAGNUS
: Is one of us in danger, Inspector?

HOUND
: Didn’t it strike you as odd that on his escape the madman made a beeline for Muldoon Manor? It is my guess that he bears a deep-seated grudge against someone in this very house! Lady Muldoon—where is your husband?

CYNTHIA
: My husband?—you don’t mean——?

HOUND
: I don’t know—but I have a reason to believe that one of you is the real McCoy!

FELICITY
: The real what?

HOUND
: William Herbert McCoy who as a young man, meeting the madman in the street and being solicited for sixpence for a cup of tea, replied, “Why don’t you do a decent day’s work, you shifty old bag of horse manure,” in Canada all those many years ago and went on to make his fortune. (
He starts to pace intensely
.) The madman was a mere boy at the time but he never forgot that moment, and thenceforth carried in his heart the promise of revenge! (
At which point he finds himself standing on top of the corpse. He looks down carefully
.)

HOUND
: Is there anything you have forgotten to tell me?
(
They all see the corpse for the first time
.)

FELICITY
: So the madman has struck!

CYNTHIA
: Oh—it’s horrible—horrible——

HOUND
: Yes, just as I feared. Now you see the sort of man you are protecting.

CYNTHIA
: I can’t believe it!

FELICITY
: I’ll have to tell him, Cynthia—Inspector, a stranger of that description has indeed appeared in our midst—Simon Gascoyne. Oh, he had charm, I’ll give you that, and he took me in completely. I’m afraid I made a fool of myself over him, and so did Cynthia.

HOUND
: Where is he now?

MAGNUS
: He must be around the house—he couldn’t get away in these conditions.

HOUND
: You’re right. Fear naught, Lady Muldoon—I shall
apprehend the man who killed your husband.

CYNTHIA
: My husband? I don’t understand.

HOUND
: Everything points to Gascoyne.

CYNTHIA
: But who’s that? (
The corpse
.)

HOUND
: Your husband.

CYNTHIA
: No, it’s not.

HOUND
: Yes, it is.

CYNTHIA
: I tell you it’s not.

HOUND
:
I’m
in charge of this case!

CYNTHIA
: But that’s not my husband.

HOUND
: Are you sure?

CYNTHIA
: For goodness sake!

HOUND
: Then who is it?

CYNTHIA
: I don’t know.

HOUND
: Anybody?

FELICITY
: I’ve never seen him before.

MAGNUS
: Quite unlike anybody I’ve ever met.

HOUND
: This case is becoming an utter shambles.

CYNTHIA
: But what are we going to do?

HOUND
(
snatching the phone
): I’ll phone the police!

CYNIHIA
: But you are the police!

HOUND
: Thank God I’m here—the lines have been cut!

CYNTHIA
: You mean——?

HOUND
: Yes!—we’re on our own, cut off from the world and in grave danger!

FELICITY
: You mean——?

HOUND
: Yes!—I think the killer will strike again!

MAGNUS
: You mean——?

HOUND
: Yes! One of us ordinary mortals thrown together by fate and cut off by the elements, is the murderer! He must be found—search the house!
(
All depart speedily in different directions leaving a momentarily empty stage
,
SIMON
strolls on
.)

SIMON
(
entering, calling
): Anyone about?—funny....
(
He notices the corpse and is surprised. He approaches it and turns it over. He stands up and looks about in alarm
.)

BIRDBOOT
: This is where Simon gets the chop.
(
There is a shot
,
SIMON
falls dead
.)
(
INSPECTOR HOUND
runs on and crouches down by
SIMON’J
body
,
CYNTHIA
appears at the french windows. She stops there and stares
.)

CYNTHIA
: What happened, Inspector?!
(
HOUND
turns to face her
.)

HOUND
: He’s dead.... Simon Gascoyne, I presume. Rough justice even for a killer—unless—unless—We assumed that the body could not have been lying there before Simon Gascoyne entered the house … but... (
he slides the sofa over the body
) there’s your answer. And now—who killed
Simon Gascoyne? And why?
(
“Curtain”, freeze, applause, exeunt
.)

MOON
: Why not?

BIRDBOOT
: Exactly. Good riddance.

MOON
: Yes, getting away with murder must be quite easy provided
that one’s motive is sufficiently inscrutable.

BIRDBOOT
. Fickle young pup! He was deceiving her right, left and centre.

MOON
(
thoughtfully)’
. Of course. I’d still have Puckeridge behind
me
——

BIRDBOOT
: She needs someone steadier, more mature——

MOON
:—And if I could, so could he——

BIRDBOOT
: Yes, I know of this rather nice hotel, very discreet, run by a man of the world——

MOON
: Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown.

BIRDBOOT
: Breakfast served in one’s room and no questions asked.

MOON
: Does Puckeridge dream of me?