DEATH OF THE PARTY __________________ A Mystery Play in Three Acts by William C. Seward and Barbara Stopp Vance Copyright þ 1993 1904 Magnolia Drive by Bill Seward Round Rock, TX 78664 (512)255-7564 Cast of characters: Frank Jacobs: Playboy, bank teller, scoundrel. Maybe 30's, slick. "Snake" Jarman: Crook, lowlife. Acquaintance of Frank. 30's,40's. Abraham Delvecchio: Bank president. Frank's boss. 50's or so. Celeste D.: Boss' wife. Socialite. Could be Abe's age or younger. Margot Vincent: Well to do widow of Bank Exec. Any age. Fletcher Davidson: Company accountant, rival for advancement. About Frank's age. Katherine Hill: Teller, rival, Frank's ex-lover, arrives with Fletcher. Louise Bancroft: Current girlfriend of Frank. Florence Bennett: Housekeeper. 50+ Detective Brett Feeney: Amiable, by the book, likes to play bad cop. Any age. Old enough to be jaded. Detective Gwynn Jackson: Cynical, only female detective on force. 30-40 Sergeant Bell: Uniform policeman to assist detectives. Any age. Countess Natasha Gravensky: Elderly foreign neighbor. Russian accent. Kenny Barlow: Gay tuba player. Bartender. Neighbor. 20-30+ Gridley: Stage hand/ props, etc. Perhaps a little slow. Hostess: Emcee/narrator. SCENE: Audience area is decorated for costume party, New Year's Eve, 1932/33, and represents the Ball Room of the Excalibur Hotel, New York. This area is the Library Friend's party. Mirrored ball in the ceiling. For the bank party there is a defined area for the Bar/Punch bowl and another representing the Ladies' Room. Main scene is Living room of penthouse apartment. Open on party/ballroom activity. Act I AT RISE: HOSTESS is addressing ballroom. Clock is set at 10:30. (p.m.) HOSTESS: Happy New Year! Welcome to the Friend's of the Library New Year's Eve party for 1932. We've been through some rough times but good times are coming. I see some of you came as your favorite villain or sleuth. The costume judging will be just before midnight. It is wonderful that you've been able to join us here in New York City for New Year's Eve. There's no place like The Big Apple on New Year's. Now, allow me to introduce Mr. Gridley. Stand up over there Gridley. With his considerable help we'll have some entertainment later. For now, enjoy the buffet, courtesy of the Friends of the Library. (After a suitable amount of time for the buffet, the hostess prepares to take the stage. There are sirens, flashing lights, Det. BRETT FEENEY enters with Sgt. BELL.) BRETT: Did you call the police, Lady? HOSTESS: Why, no! What's wrong? (General hubbub.) BRETT: Now just calm down, everyone. Go on with your party. Someone else here must have called us. DELVECCHIO: (Comes from side.) I called you, Officer. It's just upstairs. BRETT: Everyone stay here. (Gets DELVECCHIO) You, come with me. (BRETT, BELL, DEL. exit left to hallway.) HOSTESS: Goodness gracious, I can't imagine what that is all about. It may be some time before we learn anything from them. However, with the power of imagination, and the magic of Theatre, perhaps we can see what has transpired up to now. Let us take a look back an hour or so. Take us there, Gridley. GRIDLEY! (GRIDLEY enters. Manually sets hands back on clock to 9: 00.) SCENE 1 (Light on scene in police station, BRETT's desk, phone ringing. He answers.) BRETT: Detective Feeney. No madam. Like I said before, if you will give us good hard evidence, we'll see what we can do. If you will just give me your name . . . No, no, I need your name. Then stop calling us. With no names and no evidence, our hands are tied. How do you know he killed her? What's your sister's name? What's his name? . . . Darn, she hung up again. (Taps the receiver switch) Sarge? Give the crackpots to someone else for awhile. (Hangs up, holds head in hands.) New Year's Eve. I hate it! (Lights off, lights on main stage.) SCENE 2 (At open of scene SNAKE is at side table working on radio. FRANK and FLORENCE are discussing party. Room is tastefully decorated for New Year's Eve. There is one door stage right for a bedroom, and one door stage left for access to the hallway and the rest of the apartment. It is 1932, prohibition. On stage are a couch, a coffee table, a radio, a side table, telephone table, decorative books on shelf with a large clock. FLORENCE and FRANK stage center going over list. SNAKE is tinkering with radio. FLORENCE is a housekeeper, motherly type, pragmatic, no-nonsense. SNAKE is shifty-eyed criminal type, dark clothing, cloth cap. FRANK is young executive type, well-dressed, visibly thirtyish, well groomed. There is the sound of a tuba, playing scales, offstage. All must talk loudly to be heard over it. FRANK: (Shouting into phone.) I've told you to stop calling me. You've got the wrong person. (Angrily slams down the receiver.) Florence, please hold these calls. Better yet, hang up on them for me. FLORENCE: Was that....? FRANK: Yes, the same caller. SNAKE: A secret admirer? FRANK: Just a crank call. Several times a day. They talk through a handkerchief or something, but it sounds like a woman. FLORENCE: Is there anything else, Mr. Jacobs? FRANK: I believe that's all, Florence. Unless you can do something about that noise. (Looks upward.) FLORENCE: I'll see what I can do. When will Mr. Jarman be finished? FRANK: Any minute now, I believe. Is that right, Jarman? SNAKE: Yeah, yeah, anytime now. FLORENCE: I'll need to set that table soon if everyone's to start arriving at ten. FRANK: Don't worry, Florence. You can have it as soon as we finish. You know we'll need that radio later. FLORENCE: If you say so Sir. (Exits left) FRANK: How about it, Snake? SNAKE: Almost ready. Is she gone? FRANK: Sure, go ahead. SNAKE: (Pulls bomb assembly from bag, hooks it into radio.) What time do you want it set for? (Tuba noise stops abruptly) FRANK: (Still shouting, then quieter) TWELVE . . . twelve exactly. Are you sure you know how to handle that stuff? SNAKE: One of the benefits of a liberal education. Relax, that's what you're paying me for. FRANK: Yes, but nitro . . . That's dangerous stuff. If you drop it . . . SNAKE: You want a clean sweep, don't you? This little bottle will take out the whole top of the building. FRANK: Including the tuba fairy and that old biddy with the apricot poodle, I hope. How about the ballroom? SNAKE: All set up. Four bombs in random places. The big one set for twelve, just like you said. That library party is sure in for a surprise. They'll probably all start yelling "Quiet Please" when the action starts. FRANK: Very funny. Now, get this last one done. Make sure it won't get too hot in that cabinet. Where's the battery? SNAKE: I know what I'm doing. Don't need a battery. It runs off the wall plug. What time is it now? FRANK: Nine. Where's your watch? SNAKE: I don't have it. My old lady pawned it. FRANK: (Removes his own from pocket.) Timing is crucial. Here, use this one. SNAKE: Nice. (Looks at back.) Hmmm, "To my darling Frank," and the initials J C. FRANK: Never mind that. Just forget to return it later. SNAKE: Oh, I won't. (Finishes bomb, sets radio into place.) Are you sure you want to go through with it? It's a lot of people to snuff at once. FRANK: That's right, a major disaster. I'll be the only survivor. Everyone who stands in my way will be gone, along with a few other loose ends. The cops will never sort out the bodies. (Door buzzer) FRANK: Go into the bedroom until I see who this is. (SNAKE exits right to bedroom, FLORENCE comes to left door.) FLORENCE: The Countess to see you. (NATASHA bustles in.) NATASHA: Oh, Mr. Jacobs, you must help! My beloved, my Fifi, she is missing! I cannot live without her. You have seen her, yes? She's pure apricot, you know. Very rare, and wearing her lovely gold and green collar. FRANK: No, madam, I haven't seen her. If I had, you may be sure I would have sent her to the pound. FLORENCE: Mr. Jacobs! NATASHA: You are cruel, too cruel. In my country, the men are more sensitive to the plight of a poor defenseless . . . FRANK: Defenseless! I've had it up to here with you and your useless, yapping bundle of fur, Countess. This morning, I walked out my door and stepped in a pile of . . . (Door buzzer, FLORENCE exits to answer it.) What now? FLORENCE: It's Mrs. Delvecchio, Sir. FRANK: Show her in, Florence. And see the Countess out. Please. NATASHA: (Exiting with FLORENCE) You are wicked. . . FRANK: (Interrupting. Wicked smile) Happy New Year, Countess. NATASHA: Cruel and wicked. If I were a man I would challenge you. I would . . . CELESTE: (Enters, brushing past FLORENCE, she is flustered. Still fairly attractive, she is a hand wringer, clinging vine type. Socialite.) Frank, please tell me you're not going to that party. (FLORENCE lingers in doorway, FRANK crosses to meet CELESTE, she tries to embrace him, he backs off and takes her hand.) FRANK: Of course I'm not going. I don't have to. It's here, isn't it? What's wrong, Celeste? Florence, don't you have something cooking? FLORENCE: (Turning to go.) Don't we all. CELESTE: It's Abe. I'm afraid he's found out . . . about . . . us. (She tries to cling to him, he remains cool and impersonal.) FRANK: Nonsense, Celeste, that's not possible. Did he say anything? CELESTE: No, but he was furious. He got a call earlier this evening and stormed out of the house. I don't know where he is. We were supposed to have dinner at the restaurant before the party. He hasn't showed up. FRANK: I'm sure nothing is wrong. It was probably business. CELESTE: You can't have this party. What are you thinking? You're just asking for trouble. FRANK: Celeste, he's my boss. The Old Man practically ordered everyone to be here. One of his famous memos. Now, compose yourself. Everything will be fine. Trust me. (He guides her to the door.) CELESTE: I hope so, Frank, I hope so. I couldn't bear to lose you. FRANK: Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. It'll be a bang-up party. I'll see the two of you later. (He walks out with her. Saying things off to comfort her.) (SNAKE enters from right as FLORENCE enters from left.) FLORENCE: Are you through with your tinkering, Mr. Jarman? SNAKE: Why, yes, Mrs. Bennett. I believe I am. (SNAKE helps himself to the cigars.) FLORENCE: (Defensive.) Those are Mr. Jacobs' special stock. SNAKE: Why, yes they are. I'll give it back when I'm done. FRANK: (Entering from hall.) See, Florence, I told you it wouldn't take long. FLORENCE: Yes, Sir. I'll get the things for the table then. (Exits left. Muttering) Some folks are too shiftless to collect their own thoughts! FRANK: Is everything ready? SNAKE: It'll do the trick. FRANK: Now, do you remember the rest of it? (Pulls hip flask from pocket, offers drink to SNAKE.) SNAKE: Piece of cake. (Drinks.) I come by in my cop suit no later than eleven forty-five. Give the story about damage to your car, you leave, and at twelve midnight, Happy New Year and BLAM-O! (FLORENCE enters on noise, carrying party hats, is startled. SNAKE hands flask to FRANK who leaves it on table.) FLORENCE: My word! (Drops party hats.) FRANK: It's okay Florence. (Florence begins retrieving hats, stacking them on table.) Mr. Jarman was just telling me about a, uh, blowout he had today. Isn't that right Jarman? SNAKE: Yes Sir, that's right. Quite an explosion it was too! (Elbows FRANK in jest. FRANK looks at him warningly.) FRANK: And now, I'm sure you have other things to do. SNAKE: That's right. I'll see you later, Boss. FRANK: I'll count on it, Mr. Jarman. Don't be late. (SNAKE exits to hall, FLORENCE right behind him. Phone rings.) Florence, would you get that? Florence? (Picks up phone.) Hello. Oh, hi, Fletcher. Happy New Year. You're coming, aren't you? (FLORENCE enters and works on table arrangement, etc. Eavesdrops.) What are you talking about? It must be a mistake. I assure you it's all in order. No. No. You're the chief accountant of course. (Sees FLORENCE.) Look, I can't discuss it now. We'll talk after the party. Yes, we can. I guarantee everything will be settled tonight. See you later. (Hangs up.) Florence, where were you when the phone rang just now? FLORENCE: Sorry, Sir, I was putting out the . . . garbage. FRANK: Did our friend show up with the liquor? FLORENCE: He brought it this morning, Sir. FRANK: How is it? FLORENCE: It's good. Tastes like bond. FRANK: Good, good. Oh, by the way. How did you get the "oompah kid" to shut up? Ram that blasted poodle down the horn? FLORENCE: No, Sir. I hired him. FRANK: Hired him? FLORENCE: We needed a bartender. Kenny told me the other day that he moonlights in a speakeasy. FRANK: Hmmm. I guess he can do it, all right. I wish we could get someone who wasn't quite so limp-wristed. Now, do we have everything else? FLORENCE: I'll have to get the other glasses and china, and finish the hors d'oeuvres, but it's all on schedule. FRANK: Thank you, Florence. (Doorbell, FLORENCE exits st. left to answer.) FRANK: Who is it this time? I need to get a revolving door. (FLORENCE and SNAKE are heard in the hall, arguing, SNAKE enters first.) SNAKE: . . .I have to speak to him again. (To FRANK) It's important! FRANK: Florence, perhaps you'd better go pick up those other things now. (She exits st. left) (To SNAKE) I thought you were gone. SNAKE: I almost was. I nearly ran into a copper in the lobby. I thought I'd better lay low for a bit. I tried to hide in the stairwell, but that old blue-haired bat was in there raving about her "Fifi" mutt. (Picks up flask, prepares to drink.) FRANK: Okay, okay, stay ten minutes, then you have to leave. I don't want anyone to see you. Wait in the bedroom. (Indicates st. right, takes flask from SNAKE, puts it on table.) SNAKE: You've got it! (Exits) MARGOT: (Enters st. left) Did I hear voices? FRANK: (Startled) Margot, what are you doing here? MARGOT: Florence let me in, she said she was leaving to pick up some things. FRANK: You're very early..... MARGOT: Oh, I can't stay. I just had to give you this. I don't want to start the New Year with any outstanding debts. (Hands over envelope, FRANK puts in inside pocket.) I think this is rotten of you. Trading on other people's misfortune. FRANK: You and I know that some people make their own misfortune. Or should I say fortune. It was your dear departed husband's misfortune, now wasn't it. MARGOT: Curtis fell off of the yacht, he fell. The coroner was quite content with that. I think you should be. FRANK: Don't kid me, doll. Remember, I was there. I was your alibi. MARGOT: Then be quiet about it. That's what I'm paying you for, right? You're bleeding me dry! FRANK: Just my share. You got plenty. Hey, you're a big girl. You pay for what you do, and for what I know. MARGOT: I don't know what I ever saw in you. FRANK: Maybe you saw something of yourself, hmmmm? Now, how about a kiss for old times' sake? MARGOT: I'd rather kiss a cobra. FRANK: Now that's a match made in heaven. (Doorbell sounds. FRANK starts toward door. MARGOT exchanges flask for another.) MARGOT: No one must see me here! Hide me! (She exits quickly st. right) FRANK: No, wait! (Doorbell again) All right, I'm coming! (Exit, st. left) KATHERINE: (Entering left.) I just had to come by and take care of this. I didn't want any nasty surprises at the party. FRANK: Now, Katherine, what kind of cad do you think I am? KATHERINE: How many kinds are there? I'm quite sure you're several of them. I have to meet Fletcher, so take this and keep your promise. (Hands envelope, FRANK adds to inside pocket. She sees him glance toward the bedroom.) Now, no more of your tricks. We're through. This is the last payment. FRANK: Maybe it is, and maybe it isn't. KATHERINE: You promised. You said this was all! Don't you go back on your word, Frank Jacobs, or you'll be sorry! FRANK: Oh my! That sounds like a threat, Katherine. I did catch you with your hand in the till. KATHERINE: It was a loan, you know that it was. I paid it back. I had to have it! You said you understood! FRANK: Just the same, if I were to tell Mr. Delvecchio. . . . KATHERINE: You promised. I paid what you wanted. Now, it ends, right here! FRANK: I'll think about it. Now, how about a goodbye kiss for the new Vice President of Lending? KATHERINE: You have to be kidding! You? The new Vice President? FRANK: With Reynolds gone the spot is open. I plan to get it. KATHERINE: His funeral was yesterday. Aren't you rushing things? FRANK: No. KATHERINE: I have been with the bank for eleven years. If anyone moves up it should be me. FRANK: You know lending officers are always men. Besides, there is that unauthorized loan. Delvecchio could hear about it. KATHERINE: Frank, you wouldn't. Not even you would stoop so low. You sorry.. (Doorbell) I bet that's Fletcher! He can't see me here. (Exits right, quickly) FRANK: No wait! Oh, what's the use? (Sound of door opening, closing offstage) Who is it now? LOUISE: (Enters, left. Embraces and kisses FRANK.) Hi darling! Don't be a grump. I thought I'd come early and help out. Is anyone else here yet? FRANK: (Glancing at door right.) Oh, uh, no, Louise. LOUISE: What's wrong? You're not backing out on me are you? We're still going away together, aren't we? FRANK: Sure, first thing tomorrow. Just the two of us. LOUISE: Oh, it will be so wonderful to get away from here. Ever since Josie died I've wanted just to go somewhere quiet and think. FRANK: Poor kid. It's been just awful for you, losing your sister like that. You were very close, I know. LOUISE: Well, we were sisters after all. FRANK: And you never found out who the mystery man was she was seeing? LOUISE: Not yet. When I do. . . . well, he has a lot to answer for! You said you would ask around. Have you heard anything? FRANK: No, no I haven't. I'm afraid it's hopeless. LOUISE: There's an answer somewhere. Come on, it's New Year's Eve. Let's change the subject to brighter things. I want to think about something happy. (Models her costume.) How do you like it? FRANK: You look beautiful, as always. I'm sure you'll be the life of the party. LOUISE: Smoothy. How is the party coming along? FRANK: Just fine. Florence just about has the room fixed up. LOUISE: And where is dear old Florence? FRANK: Dear Florence has gone to pick up some crystal and things downstairs. LOUISE: (Flirtatiously takes his arm and leads him toward door right, picks up flask on way.) Well, then, if we're alone, maybe we can start our own party a little early. FRANK: (Turning her about face abruptly. Takes flask.) We'll have to make time later. Right now I need your help. I just discovered we needed some, some . . . party hats. That's it, yes. Run down to the corner and pick up some. LOUISE: (Pouting) Oh, pooh, Frank. That's no fun. FRANK: (Ushering her out.) We'll have fun later. Folks will be arriving soon. Get the big hats. At least twelve of them. (They EXIT st. left, LOUISE protesting.) KATHERINE: (Enters st. right as FRANK re-enters st. left. KATHERINE wonders out loud.) She looks awfully familiar to me. (To FRANK) How long do you plan to string that one along before you hurt her? FRANK: Oh, not much longer. (Nervously glancing at door right as he replaces flask on table.) How were things in there? KATHERINE: Come on. You know I've seen it before. You see one snake den, you've seen them all. You know, I'm really upset that you would go back on your word. FRANK: I guess you just can't trust anyone anymore. Besides, I didn't say I was going back on it. KATHERINE: You'd better not. You won't get another dime from me, and that's a promise. I have to go now, Fletcher's probably waiting for me. FRANK: You know the way, I'll see you later. (KATHERINE exits left. FRANK looks at door right a moment then opens it.) Margot? MARGOT: (Enters right) I've never seen a man with so many shoes. You really should clean out that closet. FRANK: A banker must look his best, especially now-a-days. MARGOT: I would think shedding your skin would take care of it. Speaking of which, are you really going to disguise yourself as a human tonight? No one will buy it! FRANK: Tacky, tacky! MARGOT: If we're through here, I must go. We are through here? FRANK: For now. As per our agreement. Are you still working on Mr. Delvecchio? MARGOT: You'll pardon me for not telling you. Abe is bringing his wife to the party, I really must practice my innocent look. FRANK: And no one does it better. You know the way out. (She exits left.) SNAKE: (Sticks his head in door, right, as soon as she exits.) Is it safe? FRANK: I think so. Where did you hide? SNAKE: Under the bed. Man, all those dames. And lookers too. How do you do it? FRANK: A gift, I suppose. Isn't it time for you to leave? SNAKE: (Coolly helping himself to another cigar. Picks up flask.) How soon until someone catches on about that Campbell kid? FRANK: After tonight, no one will care. (Takes flask away from SNAKE. Puts in hiding place. Bookshelf?) Now clear out while you can. I don't want to see you again until eleven forty-five. SNAKE: No problem, but you really want to blow up the dames too? What a waste. FRANK: Just keep to your end of it. (SNAKE exits left, whistling "Buddy Can You Spare a Dime," FRANK waits until outer door closes looks at clock) Quarter till. I told them all to be here promptly at ten. I should have booked Grand Central Station. (Looks around, goes to radio, resets timer.) Let's see, eleven forty-five, no, wait, eleven forty-seven. Just to be sure. That should do it. (Starts to drink from flask. Sound offstage of door opening, closing.) Now who is it? (FRANK opens door left, speaks into hall.) What took you so . . . oh, it's you. You're early. (He steps through door, out of audience' sight. Another voice is heard, indistinct.) You're joking! Give me that! (Struggling sounds, two shots are heard. A body falls to floor. Part of it is seen on floor in doorway, then dragged off. Lights down. GRIDLEY appears and sets clock up to ten thirteen.) SCENE 3 (Light shift to powder room/mirror. MARGOT, KATHERINE, LOUISE are present, powdering noses, etc. LOUISE is angry. CELESTE walks into area as LOUISE is speaking. We are joining the discussion in progress.) LOUISE: You're wrong. I know Frank loves me. Everyone doesn't have to have the same bad luck you've had with love. MARGOT: You don't know how wrong you are, dearie. He's playing you for a fool. LOUISE: Just look at this. I can prove it. He gave me his mother's jade pendant! It's been in their family for years. KATHERINE: (Pulls out own pendant.) Dear Mother Jacobs must have a jade farm. I have one also. MARGOT: (Shocked. Hands to throat.) Oh my heavens. So do I! (CELESTE draws away from group in consternation. Exits in shock with hand to her neck.) KATHERINE: You know, I heard that the Campbell kid wore one too, but they didn't find it on her body. LOUISE: Do you honestly mean to tell me that Frank . . .? MARGOT: Yes, Frank. LOUISE: I can't believe it. He said it'd been in the family for years, and he wanted it to be . . . to be . . . erggh! I'd like to give him a piece of my mind. KATHERINE: Are you sure you can spare it, dear? LOUISE: Well, at least Frank knew I had a mind. He probably never got past your. . . MARGOT: Yes, I'm sure Frank appreciated her assets! KATHERINE: The very idea! LOUISE: Oh, surely you mean her daddy's bank account. But Frank loves me. He told me so. We were. . . ALL THREE: (In unison.) Dancing in the moonlight. (LOUISE covers her mouth with her hands in shock.) KATHERINE: No wonder he didn't come to his own party. He said to be here at ten sharp. It's quarter after and no Frank. LOUISE: I'm sure he'll be here. I told you, I saw him this evening. He sent me out for party hats. KATHERINE: Party hats! This time of night? You're lucky you found them. LOUISE: I didn't! Everything was closed. MARGOT: (Derisively.) Party hats! You poor little fool! LOUISE: (As lights fade.) Perhaps not as foolish as you think. (Lights cross fade to apartment.) SCENE 4 (Clock shows 10:15. KENNY is serving drinks to FLETCHER and DELVECCHIO. All seem subdued, party is dead. KENNY is openly wearing pendant identical to ladies in previous scene.) KENNY: Gee, seems like a fun group. You folks party like this often? FLETCHER: Not often. There hasn't been much reason to, you know. DELVECCHIO: Well, we've got Mr. Roosevelt coming into office soon. Maybe this "New Deal" of his will turn things around. (To KENNY) What do you think? KENNY: Sorry, Sir. I try never to discuss politics while working, especially at the bar. Political arguments are so gauche. FLETCHER: Good policy, I'm sure. So, where is Frank? This was supposed to be his party. KENNY: I haven't seen him. There was no one here when I showed up. Mrs. Bennett had asked me to tend bar. It was all set up when I arrived. I didn't see anyone until all of you came in. DELVECCHIO: How about this Mrs. Bennett? Where is she? KENNY: Oh, I'm sure she'll turn up. She left everything prepared. Probably ran an errand or something. One of the neighbors lost her dog tonight. Maybe she's helping her look. FLETCHER: Which neighbor? KENNY: The Countess. She was supposed to make an appearance here tonight, I believe. DELVECCHIO: A Countess? Here? KENNY: (Confidentially.) Well, I don't know for sure. We call her that. Actually, she seems to think she's Grand Duchess Anastasia. She's going by the name Countess Natasha Gravensky. We humor her. FLETCHER: Oh, yes. Frank's mentioned her. She travels a lot doesn't she? KENNY: Yes Sir. And she takes Fifi the Intolerable with her. (Mimics NATASHA.) "Fifi is a pure Apricot Poodle. The very rarest kind, you know!" FLETCHER: Frank isn't too fond of the dog. It bites. He says that Fifi will be solely responsible for the return of spats. (To KENNY.) So, do you know Frank, ah . . . well? KENNY: Who knows anyone that well? No, I'm afraid dear Frank is too much the ladies' man. DELVECCHIO: (As CELESTE approaches, stricken.) Are you all right, dear? (Sound of dog, yapping offstage.) NATASHA: (Voice offstage.) Fifi, Fifi, come here. KENNY: Speaking of the little devil, sounds like the Countess has found her. (Scream offstage. All rush to door.) SCENE 5 (Lights off on apt. on for BRETT's desk. He is on phone again.) BRETT: What's that? A dead body at the Excalibur. I'll go myself. (Hangs up phone, grabs hat and coat. Exits, calling.) Bell, Bell, we've got another New Year's Eve gift. (Light cross fade to HOSTESS.) SCENE 6 HOSTESS: Well, well, well, that certainly clears up a few things. While Gridley is getting us back to the present you may wish to think about what you've seen and talk to the suspects. Are there any general questions? Well, then, I'll leave you to your own devices. We'll be back shortly with more food for thought. End Act I (During the intermission two of the "audience" bombs will be found and door prizes awarded.) Act II AT RISE: Same scene, some time later. As lights come up, clock shows ten- thirty. Body is gone. On stage are DELVECCHIO, KENNY, CELESTE, MARGOT, FLETCHER, KATHERINE, LOUISE, Det. BRETT. BRETT is in midst of questioning them. DELVECCHIO is a rather pompous man, chief executive type. All guests are in costumes for party. BRETT: So, you all rode up in the elevator together? DELVECCHIO: (Tiredly, having answered the same question many times.) Yes, detective. The party was to begin at ten. All of us were prompt. BELL: (Opening door, left) They're in here "detective." GWYNN: (Entering left) Thank you, sergeant. Sorry I'm late. (BELL is still standing fidgeting in door.) BRETT: Is there something else, Sergeant? BELL: (To GWYNN) Very sorry to hear about your sister, Detective. GWYNN: Thank you, Sergeant. BRETT: Didn't expect them to send you, "Detective" Jackson. Are you sure you're up to it? GWYNN: I'm okay, Feeney. I can't take time off forever. Live . . . and death goes on. Now, Sergeant Bell filled me in. I understand these folks found the body? BRETT: I was just asking them about it. Mr. Delvecchio here just told me that they all came up the elevator together. Go ahead Sir. DELVECCHIO: We arrived at ten sharp. The apartment door was open. We were invited to a party, so we came on in. (Indicates KENNY) This gentleman was already here. BRETT: (To KENNY) And you are? KENNY: Kenny Barlow. I'm a neighbor. BRETT: We'll get back to you in a minute. (To DELVECCHIO) Go on. DELVECCHIO: Well, as I said, we had been here about fifteen minutes when we heard the Countess screaming. She was standing in the door of the janitor's closet. Frank was face down on the floor as you saw him. BRETT: (To GWYNN) The coroner and the lab boys just got through a few minutes ago. It wasn't pretty. GWYNN: The coroner? BRETT: The body. FLORENCE: (Offstage left, agitated.) I tell you I'm supposed to be here. Mr. Jacobs is giving a party, and I'm already behind schedule! (Enters left, BELL in tow, she is carrying tray or box of glasses, etc.) What's going on here? BRETT: Who are you? (He motions BELL to exit.) FLORENCE: I'm Florence, Florence Bennett, Frank's, I mean Mr. Jacob's housekeeper. BRETT: Aren't you a little late? FLORENCE: I just stepped downstairs to 214 to borrow some crystal and things for the party. Where is Mister Jacobs? BRETT: But the party was supposed to begin at ten, you're late. FLORENCE: Oh, I was detained by Mrs. Simpson. She'd forgotten to get the things out for me. There was nothing I could do but help her get them out and clean them. Where is Mister Jacobs? GWYNN: (On getting nod from BRETT.) I'm afraid your Mr. Jacobs has been killed. These folks found him, in a janitor's closet, shot. FLORENCE: Oh, no! I can't believe it. Are you sure? He . . . I . . . he can't be! (She breaks down, GWYNN leads her to a chair.) GWYNN: There, there, I know it's a shock. Try to be brave. We need you to tell us some things. FLORENCE: I'll try. It's just so sudden. He was so young. I wasn't gone all that long! GWYNN: What time did you leave him here? FLORENCE: It was maybe nine thirty. I thought it would only take a few minutes to pick up the things. BRETT: Was Jacobs alone? FLORENCE: A Mr. Jarman had just arrived. And I let Miss Vincent in as I left. BRETT: Are those people here now? FLORENCE: Miss Vincent is right there. I don't see Mr. Jarman, though. BRETT: Do you have a first name for this Mr. Jarman? FLORENCE: Not exactly, but I overheard Mr. Jacobs call him something reptilian, Lizard or Frog or something like that. BELL: Can you describe him? FLORENCE: Mr. Jacobs? BRETT: Mr. Jarman. FLORENCE: (Thoughtfully) About 40, dark hair, short, fairly slim. GWYNN: (Calling out) Sergeant! BELL: (Opening door left) Yes,... detective. GWYNN: Call in and see if we have anything on a Jarman, first name unknown. BELL: Yes, ma'am,. . . . I mean, Sir. (Exits left again) BRETT: I'm going to have you all go to another room. I want to question each of you separately. I must ask you not to discuss this matter among yourselves until I can interview you. Mrs. Bennett, would you escort these folks into the bedroom? FLORENCE: I think some of them know the way. (FLORENCE gets flask from hiding place. Suspects file out, leaving BRETT and GWYNN) GWYNN: You want to finish filling me in? I understand he was shot? BRETT: Two shots. Stomach and head. Both left nasty exit wounds. My guess is a thirty-eight. The face was badly messed up. He was probably shot in the entry hall there. You might have seen the stains on the floor. GWYNN: Who identified him? BRETT: Most of them in there. And he had his wallet. A little money there, not much of value in the room here, but nothing seems to be missing, "they" say, except his watch. You ready to question them? GWYNN: How do you want to handle it this time? BRETT: I'll be the mean one. GWYNN: I hate being the nice cop. BRETT: Seniority, my dear. This is your first case since you made detective. You certainly didn't get here by being mean. GWYNN: Are you making some point, Feeney? BRETT: Why no, "detective." Besides, think of it as therapy. Work out your aggressions and so forth. BELL: (Opening door) The precinct will call us back Sir. BRETT: We've moved the group into the bedroom, after we question them, we'll want you to take them into the kitchen. Let them have coffee if they want it. BELL: What about the booze, Sir? GWYNN: Booze? BRETT: It's a party, isn't it? Leave a bottle out, it may prove interesting. BELL: Whatever you say, detective. BRETT: Oh, and you might round up a couple of cups for Detective Jackson and myself. BELL: (Hesitates for a second, glancing at GWYNN) Oh, you mean . . . I'm supposed to get it. Right away. (Starts to exit left, turns back.) That was, uh, coffee you wanted, wasn't it? GWYNN: Of course, Sergeant. BELL: Yes, . . . Sir. (Exits left) BRETT: Which one do you want to start with? The housekeeper? GWYNN: I'd like to hear what she knows about those folks. We might get more out of them if we leave her till later, though. BRETT: Sort of let that group stew in it's own juice, you mean. GWYNN: That's it. Bell said the foreign lady was first on the scene? BRETT: Natasha Gravensky. (GWYNN opens door, right, NATASHA's voice is heard complaining.) NATASHA: . . . and I must find her collar. I just know darling Fifi is having a nervous breakdown. She's very high-strung. A perfect apricot shade, you know, very rare. She bit that rude policeman on the ankle. He made me lock her in my apartment. Her analyst says. . . . GWYNN: (Closing door and sitting.) How about talking to her later also? BRETT: Good idea. A few more minutes of that and they all may confess. The girlfriend? GWYNN: The girlfriend. BRETT: (Opens door right) Miss Bancroft, would you join us, please? (She enters, distressed, crying) Please have a seat. Let's see. You are Miss Louise Bancroft, correct? LOUISE: Yes. I really don't feel like talking about this. GWYNN: I know this is hard for you. We have to move on this while we can. LOUISE: O. . okay. I want to help. BRETT: You were a friend of the deceased? LOUISE: Well . . . yes, we were seeing each other. GWYNN: Was it serious between you? LOUISE: Oh, yes. I hope you realize I don't just go out with anyone! BRETT: Oh, we're sure! Now, why did you kill Frank Jacobs? LOUISE: Excuse me? BRETT: Come on, Toots. Nice cushy bachelor pad like this. The guy probably plays the field, right? My bet is he was about to dump you, so you snuffed him. LOUISE: Why no . . . I GWYNN: Feeney, Feeney, give the girl a break. Can't you see she cared for the guy? LOUISE: No, it's okay. Yes, I loved him. He would not have dumped me. BRETT: Good looking guy like that. Good job. Be hard for you if he did, right? You skirts can't make it without your meal ticket, can you? GWYNN: That's enough, Feeney. BRETT: Okay, okay. Present company excepted. GWYNN: Don't mind him, Louise. To Detective Feeney, everyone's a suspect. LOUISE: I just want you to find Frank's killer. BRETT: I think we have the killer right here. GWYNN: Feeney means that it's very likely the killer is one of you folks who are here. We have men checking the area for witnesses, other suspects and the like. We need to question those who were here. LOUISE: I understand. BRETT: What time did you get here? LOUISE: I came early to help Frank. It must have been . . . twenty till ten. GWYNN: Then you must have heard the shots. LOUISE: Well, no. . . . Frank sent me out to get some things for the party. BRETT: What things? LOUISE: Party hats. BRETT: You went out for party hats at nearly ten o'clock on New Year's Eve? LOUISE: Well, there's a store on the corner. . . . it was closed though. I looked around for another, but no luck. I got back in time to come up with the others. GWYNN: Others. . . The same people who are here now? LOUISE: All except for Florence, Mr. Barlow, and that Gravensky woman. BRETT: Miss Bancroft, do you notice anything unusual about the table? LOUISE: The table? Why no . . . (intake of breath.) . . . party hats! BRETT: Curiouser and curiouser, wouldn't you say Miss Bancroft? LOUISE: Listen, I'm telling you the truth! BRETT: Now I'll tell one! GWYNN: Let's get back on track, Feeney. (to LOUISE.) Where do you work? LOUISE: First Fidelity Bank. Just like Frank and the others. BRETT: Been working there long? LOUISE: One month. I'm a receptionist in accounting. BRETT: Only one month and already playing footsie with the fair-haired boy. You work fast. LOUISE: I resent that, detective. We had a good thing together. Frank was fun to be with. We were close, you know? BRETT: Yes, I'm sure you were. Where did you come from before you came to First Federal? LOUISE: I . . . I grew up in Idaho. GWYNN: What brought you to New York? LOUISE: I came . . . there was . . . a death in the family. BRETT: And you just decided to stay? LOUISE: There were . . . things to be done. GWYNN: Come on, Brett, ease up. BRETT: Okay, okay. So who didn't Jacobs get along with? LOUISE: You have to understand, with so many banks closing recently, well, things are really competitive at First Fidelity. I don't think anyone ever came to blows. GWYNN: Just one big happy family? LOUISE: Well, with all these extra bank holidays, and the other problems, morale is a problem right now. This party was supposed to help with that. BRETT: Was Mr. Jacobs concerned with the morale of his bank? LOUISE: He was very concerned. Many of his co-workers came to him for advice and help. Several times, I saw friends repaying small loans he had made them. BRETT: Quite a prince, your Frank. GWYNN: Don't be snide, Feeney. Any friends in particular, Miss Bancroft? LOUISE: Well, a lot of the people in there. It was kind of funny, though. BRETT: What was funny? LOUISE: Well, I saw Margot Vincent apparently paying back a loan. I never would have thought she needed the money. She's pretty well off. Her husband died last year and left her a bundle. At least that's what I heard. GWYNN: And you saw her give money to Jacobs? LOUISE: (Nods.) Frank said she was just repaying a loan. No, wait. I think he actually said she was paying a debt. GWYNN: But you don't know what this debt was? LOUISE: No. He never said. BRETT: When you saw Jacobs earlier, did you see anyone else here? LOUISE: No, Frank was alone. He did seem pre-occupied but I thought it was the party. BRETT: What do you know about these? (shows three payment envelopes) LOUISE: I don't recognize them. GWYNN: Where did you get those? BRETT: Jacobs's coat pocket. Still don't recognize them? LOUISE: No, I don't. (BRETT hands envelopes to GWYNN to inspect.) GWYNN: Do you have anything else to add to what you've told us? LOUISE: No. BRETT: Sergeant! BELL: (At door left) Yes, Sir. BRETT: See Miss Bancroft to the kitchen. (To LOUISE) We may want to speak to you again in a few minutes. BELL: (To LOUISE as they exit) Do you know how the coffee pot works? (They exit left) BRETT: What do you think? GWYNN: Jacobs had something going. A good bit of money here, and perfumed envelopes. BRETT: Okay, okay. What about Miss Bancroft for the killer? GWYNN: Possible. I don't know. She looks familiar to me. I can't put my finger on it. There's just something about her that doesn't fit. We only have her word that she left the building when Jacobs sent her out for party favors. BRETT: Shall we talk to the president now? GWYNN: Hoover? BRETT: The bank president. GWYNN: Okay. (Opens door right, NATASHA's voice heard.) NATASHA: ..and the Tsar was dead, so the cook smuggled us out of the city in a potato wagon. I thought I would never get the smell out of my..... GWYNN: (Talking over NATASHA) Mr. Del..vecchio is it? DELVECCHIO: (Entering, right) Abraham Delvecchio. (The door closes with NATASHA still talking.) BRETT: You're the president of...... DELVECCHIO: First Fidelity Bank. BRETT: You are the employer of Frank Jacobs? DELVECCHIO: Yes. Frankly, Detective Finney. . . . BRETT: Feeney. DELVECCHIO: Frankly, I'm surprised that you detained us here. Shouldn't you be out catching the killer? BRETT: We're doing our best, Sir. We really must question those who found the body, though. DELVECCHIO: Hmmph. Did I tell you that Chief Willoughby is an old friend? BRETT: Yes, Sir, and believe me, the chief himself would want me to ask you these questions. DELVECCHIO: Well, if you have to. . . . Let's get it over with. GWYNN: Tell us about Frank Jacobs. DELVECCHIO: There's not much to tell. He was one of my chief tellers, fairly bright, and competent in what he does. BRETT: Did he have a future in banking? DELVECCHIO: I don't know if I have a future these days. Maybe when Mr. Roosevelt takes office . . . anyway, Frank was quite ambitious, but lacked any real drive or substance, if you know what I mean. GWYNN: What about enemies? DELVECCHIO: I do encourage competition among my employees; it keeps them sharp. I certainly don't encourage violence, but I never noticed Frank making any really big waves either. On the other hand....... (troubled pause) BRETT: Go on. DELVECCHIO: Well, he did consider himself something of a ladies' man. It did cause talk on occasion. GWYNN: Did you have personal knowledge of any of his indiscretions? DELVECCHIO: Well, no, not really. Just the sort of things you hear, you know? I mean . . . nothing. BRETT: Was there anything at the bank, some unusual dealings, that may have led to Jacobs's death? DELVECCHIO: (Indignant) I'll have you know, Detective Finster, we are only concerned with ethical business dealings at First Fidelity Bank. Our customers expect the very highest level of integrity and service. We are a bastion of fiduciary and financial responsibility in these troubled times. No taint of pecuniary misconduct has ever been sustained against our establishment. BRETT: Is that a no? GWYNN: I think so. Mr. Delvecchio, whose idea was this party tonight? DELVECCHIO: I'm not sure who brought up the original idea, it seemed a good one for morale purposes. BRETT: Why weren't you having it at your place? DELVECCHIO: Now that was Frank's idea. He felt his apartment would be less imposing. BRETT: I don't know, this is an awfully nice apartment for a teller. DELVECCHIO: I never really noticed. Maybe he had some family money. GWYNN: You arrived with the others? DELVECCHIO: We all walked in at about the same time. We rode up in the elevator together. GWYNN: What time was that? DELVECCHIO: The elevator arrived at precisely ten o'clock. BRETT: Where were you previously? DELVECCHIO: My wife and I dined at Santorini's restaurant just up the street. We got there at . . . eight thirty. GWYNN: And you arrived here at the apartment at ten? DELVECCHIO: Frank insisted on punctuality. Quite a reasonable request. BRETT: So your wife can vouch for your whereabouts, and you for hers? DELVECCHIO: I resent your tone, Finckle. My wife and I are not suspects for you to bully. I've given you amply of our time, now please let us return home. BRETT: As soon as we ask your wife a few questions. DELVECCHIO: My wife has nothing to do with this. She was with me. GWYNN: Then you have nothing to worry about. Please allow us to do our job. You can wait in the kitchen until we finish. The sergeant will see to your needs. Sergeant! DELVECCHIO: (As BELL opens door left) The Chief AND the Mayor will hear about this! I've given my cooperation...... (voice trails away as he exits left) GWYNN: What happened to mean cop? BRETT: Give me a break. I got all the grief I need. Go ahead and call the wife. (Gwynn opens door, right. Sound of NATASHA speaking again.) NATASHA: As I was telling the prince, apricot is the very rarest color, but they're very high strung. I must be allowed to go home and see about her. She has had a terrible shock! . . . GWYNN: (Speaking over the above.) Mrs. Delvecchio? CELESTE: (Entering with hesitation) Yes, detective? GWYNN: We'd like your statement now, if we may. CELESTE: I'm afraid I don't know anything. My husband brought me to the party. I hardly knew Mr. Jacobs. BRETT: Just tell us what happened, in your own words. CELESTE: What did Abe tell you? BRETT: He gave us his statement, now we'd like yours. GWYNN: Take your time. CELESTE: Well, we arrived downstairs together, some of the others were already in the lobby, waiting to come up. GWYNN: Who was there? CELESTE: Oh, the same ones you saw when you got here, except for the Russian lady. You know, I think she really believes she's Grand Duchess Anastasia. BRETT: How well did you know these people? CELESTE: Oh, not at all well. I don't really know any of them. They all work for my husband. Oh, that girl Louise came in just as the elevator came down. She said something about having gone to a store. Of course, all the stores are closed now for New Year's, but that's what she said. BRETT: Has Mr. Delvecchio mentioned anything to you about trouble at the bank? Anything at all? CELESTE: I'm sure I don't have to tell you how tense the entire banking community has been the last couple of years. So far as I know, First Fidelity is quite solvent. Of course, Abe has been working late several nights a week, and he hasn't been able to take me to lunch in quite a while. I think it's just awful when . . . GWYNN: Did you know Frank Jacobs well? CELESTE: Oh,... of . . . course not, I told you, I hardly know any of them. I told Abe we should have had the party at home. He said Frank had it all in hand and that it would be better all around. I had heard that Frank was a good employee and had a promising future. BRETT: (Holding up envelopes) Do you recognize any of these? CELESTE: Of course not. Such garish colors. Only a trollop would use such stationery. BRETT: Do you have anything else to add? CELESTE: No. I think this whole thing is dreadful and I would like for Abe to take me home now. GWYNN: We'll let you go as soon as we can. Perhaps, for now a cup of tea would make you feel better. Sergeant! BELL: (Opens door left) Yes, Ma'am,.. Sir? GWYNN: Escort Mrs. Delvecchio into the kitchen and see that she gets some tea. (To CELESTE) Sergeant Bell will take care of you. BELL: (As he approaches CELESTE, BELL trips slightly over radio cord.) Sorry, didn't see that. Say, what's this? (Picks up newspaper clipping and hands it to BRETT) Come along, Madam. (BRETT glances at clipping and places it on clipboard or folder.) CELESTE: (Exiting left) Thank you, young man. Bell, that's not an Irish name is it? GWYNN: That was fun. When are you going to start "mean cop" again? BRETT: I can't very well bully them if they really do know the Chief, can I? GWYNN: Probably not. Who's next? BRETT: I hate to suggest it, but we'd better see the Gravensky woman. The rest of them will have us up on charges for brutality if we leave her in there any longer. GWYNN: Okay, if you say so. (She opens door, right, to more of NATASHA's speaking.) NATASHA: I tell you, you just can't know how difficult it is being the only surviving relative of the . . . GWYNN: (Cutting her off.) Mrs. Gravensky! We would like to see you now. NATASHA: (Still off.) Pardon me while I speak to these people. (Entering, right) I really must protest this. I must get back to my darling Fifi. She is devastated. She was so close to that dear man. And for her to find him, like that! BRETT: Mrs. Gravensky, please tell us how you found Mr. Jacobs. NATASHA: It was Fifi, I told you. She was a bad girl. She got away this afternoon, and I have been searching for her. I heard her barking and making the most distressing noises. I came around the corner of the hallway and there she was, outside the janitor's closet. Inside was poor Mr. Jacobs. GWYNN: Did you see anyone else in the hall? NATASHA: As soon as Fifi saw me she ran to the elevator door. Barking all the way. It was just closing. It almost nipped off her poor nose. BRETT: Maybe the police department could use a dog like that. GWYNN: Do you think we're ready for an apricot poodle? NATASHA: It's the very rarest color, you know. They're very high strung. Poor Fifi was so upset. And her collar was missing. GWYNN/BRETT: Her collar? NATASHA: Her lovely collar that the Queen of Austria gave her. She was inconsolable. BRETT: The Queen? NATASHA: No, poor Fifi. BRETT: Was it valuable, this collar? NATASHA: Well, yes, it was valuable. I mean, in a sentimental way, of course. And it did look very pretty, gems all over it. But only paste of course. GWYNN: Getting back to the murder. Did you see anything else you can tell us about? BRETT: Anyone else in the hallway? Did you hear the shots? NATASHA: I'm so sorry. There was nothing. I had just been calling Fifi in the stairwell. I heard nothing until Fifi barked. BRETT: Did you know Mr. Jacobs well? NATASHA: We spoke sometimes. He was fond of my Fifi. BRETT: Do you know anything of his social life? NATASHA: I travel so much, you see? Why I've just returned from Paris. There are so many of my countrymen gathered there. GWYNN: Frank Jacobs' social life? NATASHA: Oh, well, visitors night and day, especially at night. Young ladies, you know? I believe Mr. Jacobs was what you call a playboy. Lately that Miss Bancroft has thrown herself at him. My late mother would not have approved. Nor would she have approved of Mr. Jacobs visits to "that man" upstairs. That Barlow person seems to have several male visitors . . . if you get my meaning. (BRETT and GWYNN exchange look, raised eyebrows.) GWYNN: Frank Jacobs visited him often? NATASHA: Well, he said it was to make him stop that infernal racket on the tuba - but, perhaps it was just an excuse to . . . BRETT: Mrs. Gravensky, please, just the facts. Now, why were you at his suite earlier this evening? NATASHA: This evening I had stopped in to thank him for inviting me to his party. Of course, when this Mrs. Delvecchio called on him . . . GWYNN: Really? Are you sure it was Mrs. Delvecchio? NATASHA: Of course. She brushed right past me. She was very rude. Poor breeding, I suppose. BRETT: Did you hear what they said to one another? NATASHA: A woman of my station certainly does not eavesdrop on others. Besides, I was searching for my Fifi. BRETT: Do you recall hearing any arguments lately? Raised voices? NATASHA: Just high spirits, maybe. I have spoken to the doorman about some of the characters that have been coming up lately. Not the best sort, I'm afraid. BRETT: We'll have Sergeant Bell speak to the doorman before we leave. GWYNN: Please allow Sergeant Bell to accompany you to the kitchen. Perhaps a cup of tea with the others? Sergeant! NATASHA: I really must be allowed to tend to my Fifi. She is distraught. (Bell enters) BRETT: It will just be a little longer, madam. I must insist. Another customer for you Sergeant Bell. See if Officer Mulrooney has finished with the doorman's statement. Tell him I'd like to have him question a Mrs. Simpson in 214. BELL: Yes, Sir. Come along, ma'am. (They exit left, NATASHA still talking) NATASHA: (To BRETT) You will let me know if dear Fifi's collar is found, won't you? (To BELL) Do you know, you look a lot like King George. In his Royal Navy uniform, I mean. . . . BRETT: What about bringing in the rest all together? Except for the housekeeper. We can bring her and the Barlow character in last. Otherwise we'll be here forever. It is New Year's Eve. GWYNN: Suits me. (Opens door right) Let's have the rest of you in here, except for Mrs. Bennett and Mr. Barlow. (MARGOT, FLETCHER, KATHERINE file in and find seats.) FLORENCE: (Off) How long do you expect us to stay in here? GWYNN: (Still at door) Not much longer. We always save the best for last. GWYNN: (Pauses by each woman momentarily then crosses to BRETT) Let me see the envelopes, Feeney. BRETT: Here they are. (Hands them over.) GWYNN: (Crosses back to MARGOT) I believe this is yours. (Hands her one envelope) And this is yours. (Hands other one to KATHERINE, MARGOT takes hers and looks at it, stunned, KATHERINE drops hers on the floor. One is left in GWYNN's hand) Go ahead, pick it up. BRETT: Are you sure about that? GWYNN: There's no mistake. Perfumed women, perfumed envelopes. BRETT: (To MARGOT) What were you paying Jacobs for? MARGOT: It was . . . just a loan. I was repaying him. BRETT: How much of a loan? MARGOT: Ten thousand in all. BRETT: (Whistles.) Ten thousand is "just a loan?" That's a pretty big loan in my book. MARGOT: Well, to a policeman, I suppose it is. We considered it just a friendly loan. BRETT: (To KATHERINE.) And what kind of loan were you paying off? KATHERINE: Oh, what's the use. You'll find out sooner or later anyway. Frank was a leech. He liked to ferret out little secrets on people and make them pay. This was supposed to have been my last payment. GWYNN: What did he have on you? KATHERINE: A . . . an indiscretion. It doesn't matter, does it? BRETT: It may. (To MARGOT) Do you still stick to your story? MARGOT: All right, Frank Jacobs was a filthy blackmailer. GWYNN: He blackmailed both of you? MARGOT: There were others. A lot of people from the office, a few city officials. Nobody big. GWYNN: What did he have on you? MARGOT: I'd rather not say. BRETT: You may have to. Mrs. Bennett said you were here when she left. And this Jarman character. MARGOT: I didn't see anyone except Frank, I just gave him his envelope. Someone else came while I was here. GWYNN: What did you do? MARGOT: I hid in the bedroom. I heard them talking, but I couldn't tell who it was. KATHERINE: I guess it was me. I brought him my payment also. He threatened to make a scene at the party. I had to hide too. BRETT: Where? KATHERINE: The bedroom. BRETT: (BRETT and GWYNN exchange looks.) And you didn't see each other? MARGOT: No. GWYNN: So, who was the new arrival? KATHERINE: It sounded like Louise. Frank's new "girlfriend." He got rid of her, and I left. MARGOT: So did I. BRETT: So the three of you, and this "Jarman" were the last to see Jacobs alive. (Turns to FLETCHER) Where were you when all of this was happening? FLETCHER: I was waiting in the coffee shop downstairs for Katherine. She was my date,. . . . I thought. She came in just before Margot did, and we waited for the Delvecchios. GWYNN: So none of you can really alibi each other. BRETT: Jacobs was in pretty deep, it seems. FLETCHER: There's more, I'm afraid. BRETT: What's that? FLETCHER: Well, I was supposed to talk to Frank at the party. There were some discrepancies in the books. He said he could explain. I was going to give him the chance to do it tonight or else I'd tell Mr. Delvecchio. BRETT: Maybe you found out about the blackmail and decided he didn't deserve the chance. FLETCHER: That's not true, I. . . . BELL: (Opening door left, still off) Come in here. (Entering, to Detectives.) Look what I found in the hallway, Detective. (Shoves SNAKE into room, SNAKE is in police uniform) GWYNN: Well, well. Going to a costume party, Snake? SNAKE: Yes, yes I am. That's it. (Throughout the following, SNAKE glances nervously at the bomb/radio.) BRETT: Do you know this person, Jackson? GWYNN: Yes indeed. We go way back. If I'm not mistaken, we have several outstanding warrants for Mr. Harold Etheridge Jarman, alias "Snake," alias "Boomer." BRETT: This must be the elusive Mr. Jarman, then. Mrs. Bennett said "reptilian." Have a seat there Mr. Jarman. (SNAKE sits near the radio, nervously.) BELL: (Handing GWYNN some papers.) Here are the interviews of the doorman and the Simpson woman. GWYNN: Very good, Sergeant. (To SNAKE) Now, Snake, do you want to tell us why you're here? SNAKE: I'm supposed to see Mr. Jacobs. BRETT: Jacobs is indisposed. I suppose we'll have to do. SNAKE: (Tries to leave) I'll come back later. BELL: Sit down, the detectives aren't through with you. (SNAKE remains standing, nervous.) GWYNN: Yes, stay awhile Snake. What's your hurry? SNAKE: The party, I need to get to the party. BRETT: Why, we're having our own party right here. Sergeant, check on our other guests. (BELL exits left) Sit down Jarman. (Indicates chair near radio, SNAKE sits nervously and remains jumpy.) FLORENCE: (Entering abruptly door right with KENNY, KENNY is holding flask.) I'm not waiting any longer. Oh, Mr. Jarman, there you are. You're a policeman? BRETT: Mr. Jarman appears to be a man of many faces, Mrs. Bennett. Was he a friend of Mr. Jacobs'? (SNAKE checks his watch, listens for ticking.) FLORENCE: He was an acquaintance. (Agitated) Whatever are you doing with Frank's watch? That watch was precious to Mr. Jacobs. GWYNN: (Takes watch from SNAKE's hand. Eyes him suspiciously) Where did you get it, Jarman? SNAKE: He loaned it to me. I was bringing it back. What time is it? BRETT: Quarter to twelve. What's the problem? FLETCHER: Maybe he's about to turn into a pumpkin. SNAKE: Let me out of here! (Opens door left, BELL stops him, they struggle. Curtain) End Act 2 (Two more "audience" bombs found and prizes awarded during intermission. Announcement of question period and impending final solutions.) Act III AT RISE: SNAKE is sitting in chair, nervous, watching the radio with fascination, BELL's hand is on his shoulder. All suspects are present. BRETT is examining radio, holding up end of electric cord to show SNAKE. TIME: 10+ minutes later. BRETT: What time did you say you set this for? SNAKE: (Resigned sigh) Twelve midnight. BRETT: Right now it says eleven forty-five. What do you think of that? SNAKE: Impossible. That's when I was supposed to arrive and . . . (Looks around in shock.) GWYNN: Quite a party Jacobs was planning. Burn all his bridges at once, including one named Snake Jarman. SNAKE: That can't be true. He said . . . and . . . BRETT: He double-crossed you. SNAKE: So I see. That dirty rotten . . . BRETT: Maybe you'd like to come clean with us now. SNAKE: (Sullen) I don't know nothing about nothing, copper. BRETT: Right. Now I'll tell one. Just like you knew nothing about this bomb. GWYNN: What kind of business did you have with Mr. Jacobs? BRETT: (In SNAKE's face.) Let me have him. A few minutes in the back room and he'll spill his guts. SNAKE: What is it, your turn at mean cop? (BRETT jerks back.) GWYNN: (To BRETT) I told you I did it better. (To SNAKE) Go on, you were saying about Jacobs . . . SNAKE: Like you said, just business . . . and social. GWYNN: Business? BRETT: Social? SNAKE: You know. Buy, sell, do some favors back and forth. BRETT: What sort of favors? What did he buy? SNAKE: Oh, odd things sometimes. I remember one time I brought him a gross of fake jade pendants. (Shock from pendant owners.) GWYNN: Why did Jacobs need the bombs? BRETT: Talk. It'll go easier with you. GWYNN: We know you knew about it. You had to. You had the know how. SNAKE: Okay, okay. It was like you said before. He wanted to cover his tracks. People were getting on to him. He said he was going to start over somewhere else. He thought no one would ever miss his body in all the mess he left behind. GWYNN: I understand our associates downstairs have uncovered Frank's surprises for that party. SNAKE: How many? BELL: Four. SNAKE: There's one more. A large one. BRETT: What time is it set for? SNAKE: Same as this was, twelve midnight. GWYNN: Since it hasn't gone off yet, Jacobs must not have tampered with it. (Looks at clock.) Where is it? (SNAKE motions officers to huddle with him. He whispers to them. BELL exits left abruptly.) DELVECCHIO: I must protest this. You are risking all our lives needlessly by forcing us to remain here on your whim. BRETT: Oh, we have plenty of time. I'm sure that Officer Bell can handle it, with Mr. Jarman's invaluable help. Perhaps, though, a speedy solution to the murder of Frank Jacobs would allow us all to leave this place in a timely manner. On the off chance that Officer Bell were to fail, that is. GWYNN: Well, let's get a move on. Who wants to confess first. Speak up, we don't have much time. BRETT: Wait a minute, I'm mean cop. GWYNN: Sorry. I couldn't help it. FLORENCE: Well, I think Mr. Jarman did it. He had Frank's watch! GWYNN: It's Frank now, is it? You may be right. However, if only Snake and Jacobs knew that Snake was to return, why would he risk coming back if he knew Jacobs was dead? It's just as likely to be you, at least until your Mrs. Simpson verifies your story. BRETT: How about you, Mr. Delvecchio? You're eager to get this over with. Didn't you have reason to dispense with Frank Jacobs' services . . . permanently? DELVECCHIO: You're raving, Detective Finch. Frank Jacobs was a valuable employee. BRETT: I'm sure. But did you know that your wife had visited Mr. Jacobs this evening? DELVECCHIO: That's preposterous. Who told you that? GWYNN: She was seen here. Were you also aware that Jacobs was tampering with your books? DELVECCHIO: How can you know these things? GWYNN: Your accountant, Fletcher, told us of the discrepancies. He was planning to confront Jacobs here tonight before coming to you. BRETT: Maybe you already knew. GWYNN: I think you did. Here, this was yours, I believe. (Hands him the last envelope.) Looks like Frank had something on everyone. DELVECCHIO: No, that's not right. What makes you think this is mine? You can't prove it! BRETT: How do you know it's his? GWYNN: Bay Rum! KENNY: So Delvecchio and his wife had motives. GWYNN: (To CELESTE.) Do both of you still insist you were together in the restaurant? CELESTE: Yes. DELVECCHIO: Naturally. You can't prove any of this. BRETT: And of course neither of you will testify against the other, and our time here is fast running out. Were all of you being blackmailed by Jacobs? CELESTE: Be reasonable Detective. Surely you don't suspect one of us. (Indicates everyone but KENNY, FLORENCE and SNAKE.) Perhaps you should question this Kenny creature. He obviously is an outsider. BRETT: And what motive would you suggest he "obviously" has? CELESTE: Start with HIS jade pendant. I don't think he got it at "bank night" at the cinema. And, I doubt it was a gift from a lady, since he seems not to like them very much! GWYNN: Just what are you inferring, Mrs. Delvecchio, that he's not much of a ladies' man? CELESTE: (With a laugh.) Oh, definitely. He seems to be much more of a "man's man". BRETT: Well, Mr. Barlow, you have been rather quiet. Just how well did you know the deceased? CELESTE: And just how did you get that pendant? KENNY: Mr. Jacobs was just a casual acquaintance. He was a neighbor and nothing more. MARGOT: Now I'll tell one. BRETT: Was he blackmailing you too? Or was it just a lover's quarrel? KENNY: It's not what it appears, Detective. BRETT: Just what was it? KENNY: I'd rather not discuss it here, this isn't the place. FLORENCE: Oh my, what a gentleman. Not one to kiss and tell, eh. Well, you certainly spent a lot of time lurking about in the hallways. When you weren't blowing on that bloody great tuba, perhaps you were hoping to get a chance to . . . BRETT: That will be quite enough, Mrs. Bennett. NATASHA: Oh dear! I came to America for a better life and look at all the sordid ugliness I find. Detective, this is just all too gauche. I really think I should be allowed to return to my apartment to comfort my poor Fifi . . . KENNY: I think not, "Countess". Perhaps the detective would be interested in this. (Pulls out dog collar, police go for guns.) NATASHA: Fifi's collar. Where did you get it? KENNY: I took it off her myself. Rather a valuable burden for a small dog to carry. GWYNN: Excuse me . . . just what is going on here? (Takes collar.) NATASHA: You should arrest this man. Obviously he kidnapped my darling Fifi. She was missing all afternoon. BRETT: We're not interested in dognapping. We're here to solve a murder! KENNY: And I'm here to solve a multi-million dollar jewel smuggling operation. (Assorted gasps and "what's".) KENNY: If I may. (Reaches towards jacket.) BRETT: Hold on there. KENNY: I'm merely reaching for I.D., and a letter. I work for Interpol. This letter is my commission. I have been watching this woman for months. She is a jewelry smuggler. Her real name is Mabel Schwarz, from Bayonne, New Jersey. Look at the stones in the collar. GWYNN: (Looking at stones in collar.) Jumping Jehosaphat! These look like the real thing! NATASHA: You are mistaken. Paste, I tell you they are paste! GWYNN: (Scraping collar against drinking glass.) No, Countess. Paste diamonds don't cut glass. So, Mr. Barlow, or whatever your name is, you're saying this has all been a cover? You weren't "seeing" Mr. Jacobs? KENNY: Heavens no! I used the excuse of not "caring for women" to keep the Countess away from me. When I first moved in she went on and on with her outrageous lies and her precious Fifi. Once I knew I couldn't get any valuable information from her, I invented the ploy so I could have breathing room and still keep her under observation. She must have seen some of the other operatives reporting to my room. That didn't hurt my cover either. Anyway, I just figured out the dodge with the collar today and I pinched it to be sure. CELESTE: Then how do you explain the pendant? KENNY: Actually it was a gift from a young girl. I used to talk to her in the elevator as she was coming up to see Jacobs. She was a teller at your bank. She had been engaged to Jacobs and he dumped her. I ran into her just after he told her. Poor kid, she was really broken up over it. I had admired the pendant, it was supposed to be too valuable to throw away, so she gave it to me. Why are you so interested? CELESTE: Oh, I . . . oh nothing. It's just rather unusual. I've never seen one quite like it. GWYNN: Getting back to the Countess. Are you saying that Jacobs might have found out about her smuggling, tried to blackmail her, and she killed him? KENNY: I don't think so. She usually just packs up and leaves when someone suspects. It's happened before. That's how I got onto her in Marseilles. FLORENCE: You mean she's not Anastasia? KENNY: Not even close. She's obviously too old, for one thing. BRETT: So who's left? Mr. Davidson? Miss Hill? GWYNN: It just came to me. I knew Margot Vincent seemed familiar. Remember Miss Bancroft mentioned her husband's death? Wasn't there something about a boating accident? MARGOT: (Huffy) Yes, there was an accident! My husband was killed. (Over play grief here, sniff, cloud up.) FLORENCE: He "slipped", didn't he, Miss? I seem to remember Mr. Jacobs reading the article out loud. It seems he found it rather amusing at the time. I can't imagine why. MARGOT: The inquest found it to be an accidental death. Nobody proved anything to the contrary. KATHERINE: Accidental death pays off nicely, doesn't it dear? FLETCHER: Well, there certainly was nothing accidental about Frank's death. That is what we're discussing, isn't it Katherine? KATHERINE: Well Mr. Perfect, since we're discussing Frank's not-so-accidental death, I guess you're rather lucky, aren't you? There's one less obstacle between you and that vice presidency? Now that Reynolds and Frank have both met with misfortune, I bet you hear opportunity just a knocking on your door. FLETCHER: Why should I kill the man? I had something on Frank, and he was already planning to kill us all. And Katherine surely wouldn't . . . DELVECCHIO: Please, all of you! I am appalled at all of you! we are civilized human beings. Let's remember that and try to act accordingly. MARGOT: I agree with Abrah. . . I mean Mr. Delvecchio. KATHERINE: We were sure you would, darling. MARGOT: Oh please! You self-righteous little . . . BRETT: ENOUGH ladies! This is all very amusing and educational but it is getting us nowhere. There seems to be enough petty jealousy and hatred here for a multitude of murders. GWYNN: But maybe it was a crime of love. BRETT: Oh yes, someone just loved a couple of thirty-eight caliber holes straight through him. What are you talking about? GWYNN: Who's the one person here who professes to love Frank Jacobs. (Everyone looks at LOUISE. There is a pause, LOUISE looks uncomfortable but doesn't say a word.) Remember I said she looked familiar but I couldn't quite place her? BRETT: Yeah. KATHERINE: It's odd, but I thought the same thing. GWYNN: C'mon Brett, remember the case, Campbell? FLORENCE: The soup kids? BRETT: No, I . . . wait. The kid that washed up in East River. They figured she jumped from Brooklyn Bridge. (Everyone still studying LOUISE, thinking.) FLETCHER: The secretary in accounting. The one who . . . LOUISE: The one who jumped. That's right. GWYNN: She was your sister. BRETT: Barlow's girl in the elevator was the girl who jumped. And the girl who jumped was your sister. LOUISE: She didn't jump. She was pushed, or maybe thrown. Either way, Frank was responsible. KATHERINE: But you loved Frank! LOUISE: I hated him. I hated everything he stood for. Josie Campbell was MY sister. Frank ruined her. She died over him. He wasn't worth the dirt it took to bury her in Potter's Field. FLORENCE: But how could you? You and he..... LOUISE: Were an item? My skin crawled every time he came near me. I was trying to get evidence against him. Prove what he did to my sister, and all you others. BRETT: Your voice! You made the phone calls. LOUISE: Tonight I saw all of them, bringing their blood money. Making their sacrifices to Frank Jacobs' greed. I knew there was only one way to stop it. GWYNN: You didn't leave after all. BRETT: That's right. The doorman never saw you leave. LOUISE: I told him I was going after the stupid hats. I hid in the janitor's closet down the hall. I saw the others leave his apartment, one at a time, like clowns out of a clown car. I came back, opened the door, and shot him in his own hallway. GWYNN: Like hog killing time on the farm. LOUISE: Being raised on a farm has its advantages. It was just like any other dirty job. But it was one I had to do! BRETT: Because you hated him so much? GWYNN: No, because she loved her sister that much. LOUISE: You know what's really funny? tonight Frank told me I'd be the life of the party. What a joke. BRETT: You should have come to the police. Now we've got a really dirty mess to straighten out. All in all, though, some folks can start the new year off a little easier in mind. SNAKE: This is all very touching, but we don't have much time left. BRETT: Don't worry, Snake. We've got it all under control. SNAKE: Now why doesn't that make me feel all relieved? BRETT: I'm still saving that back room for you. For now, we'd better get back to the ballroom. We've got some unfinished business. That last bomb. (Stepping down to audience.) It's almost midnight, ladies and gentleman. You're perfectly safe. We might as well finish out the old year. All together now, let's count it down. 10..9..8..7..6.. (Ball lowers from ceiling. Counting continues as Gwynn interrupts. Loudly) GWYNN: What about the other bomb? BRETT: Oh that. (Stops the ball's descent.) It's right here. It can't go off until it hits the floor. Happy New Year! End of play