Bodies from the Library 3. Группа авторов

      CAMILLA: Robert, don’t be so silly! I’ll pay Sir Julius for you, if you like.

      ROBERT: What a beautifully forgiving nature you have, Camilla! Almost thou persuadest me—but don’t stand just there. You’re right under the mistletoe, and I’m sure you don’t want a repetition of this afternoon’s sad scene. Let me get at the door.

      (Sound of door opening)

      Oh! It’s you, Briggs!

      BRIGGS: Yes, Mr Robert. It only wants a few minutes to midnight. I’ve brought the champagne to drink in the festive season.

      ROBERT: That’s the spirit! Let’s keep up tradition while we may! The last Christmas in the old home—thanks to cousin Julius! Fill up the glasses, Briggs, and give yourself one, too.

      BRIGGS: Very good, Mr Robert.

      (Pop of champagne cork and sound of pouring)

      ROBERT: Where’s the protecting angel, Briggs? He ought to be in on this.

      BRIGGS: The detective-sergeant, sir, is refreshing himself in the servants’ hall. I think that he will be more at home there. Your glass, my lady.

      CAMILLA: Thank you.

      BRIGGS: And yours, madam.

      MRS BARRETT: Thank you.

      BRIGGS: Sir Julius.

      JULIUS: Thanks.

      BRIGGS: Mr Robert, your glass. (Meaningfully) It is almost time.

      ROBERT: (more and more wildly) Time marches on! But we’ve forgotten something, Briggs. The curtains are still drawn and the window shut. That won’t do on Christmas Eve. We’ve got to let Christmas in!

      BRIGGS: It’s bitter cold outside, sir, and snowing hard.

      ROBERT: What does that matter, man? There’s a tradition at stake! Let’s have those curtains back—

      (Sound of pulling curtains)

      —and the window open.

      (Sound of opening window)

      Now, hark! Can’t you hear them? (Pause) Come close to the window, everybody. Closer! Camilla! Briggs! Lean out, everyone! Come on, Julius, the cold air won’t hurt you! Can you hear them now?

      (Distant sound of church bells)

      Warbeck chimes! Ringing in Christmas, ringing out the Warbecks! Except for fat cousin Julius, who’ll always be in on everything! Now listen, all of you! I’ve an announcement to make! An important announcement! You mustn’t miss it, Camilla!

      (As he speaks a clock begins to chime the hour. It continues to strike twelve during the rest of the scene)

      Christmas! We must have our toast first. Where the hell’s my glass? Someone’s moved it. Where did I leave my glass, Briggs?

      BRIGGS: It’s on the card table, Mr Robert.

      ROBERT: Ah, here it is. Are you all ready? Here’s to Warbeck Hall, God help the old place!

      ALL: Warbeck Hall!

      (There is the sound of a glass shattering)

      ROBERT: (in a strangled voice) What is it? I—

      (There is the sound of a body falling to the floor)

      CAMILLA: (shrieks) Robert!

      JULIUS: What’s happened?

      MRS BARRETT: He’s fainted.

      BRIGGS: (slowly) He is dead.

      (The clock finishes striking)

      (Music)

      NARRATOR: It is next morning. The scene is once more the library, but the sofa on which Lord Warbeck was lying the previous afternoon is now unoccupied. This time it is Sir Julius who is looking out of the window at the snow. There has been a further heavy fall in the night, and the countryside is everywhere deeply covered. Sir Julius turns from the window with a sigh as Briggs comes into the room.

      JULIUS: Ah, Briggs, here you are! How is Lord Warbeck?

      BRIGGS: He has stood the shock wonderfully well, Sir Julius, considering, but I am afraid he is not long for this world.

      JULIUS: This is a terrible situation, terrible! Is there no chance of getting a doctor out to him?

      BRIGGS: I should judge that it will take at least two days to clear the road, Sir Julius, even if there are no further falls meanwhile. But I doubt whether a doctor could do much for him.

      JULIUS: This—this is a very embarrassing situation for me, Briggs.

      BRIGGS: For you, Sir Julius? Quite so, no doubt. I confess I find my own position somewhat awkward. It is not a very easy one for any of us. Will you be requiring me any further, Sir Julius?

      JULIUS: No, thank you, Briggs.

      (Sound of door closing)

      What am I to do? Oh, what am I to do?

      (Sound of door opening)

      ROGERS: Excuse me, sir.

      JULIUS: Yes, Sergeant Rogers, what is it?

      ROGERS: I have succeeded, sir, in making contact with the county police on the telephone.

      JULIUS: Good, good. How soon will thy be here?

      ROGERS: Well, sir, they are doing their best to get through, but it must take some considerable time, and meanwhile—sir—

      JULIUS: Well?

      ROGERS: I find myself in rather an awkward position, sir.

      JULIUS: You’re the second person who has made that remark to me already this morning. What’s your trouble?

      ROGERS: They have expressed a desire that I should meanwhile undertake the investigation into Mr Warbeck’s death, sir.

      JULIUS: Well, why not? You’re a detective, after all, aren’t you? I should think it’s your duty.

      ROGERS: Quite so, sir. But duties sometimes conflict.

      JULIUS: Eh?

      ROGERS: I look at it this way, sir. My duty is to protect you. Now, sir, the enquiries I have made so far—quite unofficially, of course—have established certain facts. Firstly, Mr Warbeck was murdered. Secondly, he was murdered by the administration of poison—probably cyanide of potassium—in his glass of champagne while he was opening the window of the drawing-room. Thirdly, any of the persons present might have poisoned the champagne while the attention of the others was distracted by Mr Warbeck’s behaviour. And finally, sir—

      JULIUS: Well?

      ROGERS: Well, sir, I can’t altogether shut my eyes to the fact that you are now the heir to Lord Warbeck, who himself may die at any moment.

      JULIUS: But—

      ROGERS: It would be a rather irregular situation, sir, if I were to find myself arresting the minister whom I had been detailed to protect.

      JULIUS: This is preposterous! You can’t imagine that I should kill anyone in order to get into the House of Lords?

      ROGERS: I must confess, sir, the idea had occurred to me.

      JULIUS: Then get it out of your head at once! As if I wasn’t in a bad enough position already! Where is the telephone? I must get through to the Prime Minister immediately!

      ROGERS: (slowly) The Prime Minister?

      JULIUS: Yes, the Prime Minister! He must know at once. This business is serious. Why, it may wreck the Government!

      ROGERS: (slowly) Yes, sir. I suppose if you put it that way, it might.

      JULIUS: