The Armchair Detective At Christmas: Series Three Read online

  SERIES THREE

  Play One

  www.thearmchairdetective.moonfruit.com

  The Armchair Detective At Christmas is Copyright Ian Shimwell © 2013

  ALSO AVAILABLE:

  The Armchair Detective Series One – The Complete ‘Boxed Set’

  The Armchair Detective Series Two

  AND IN SERIES THREE:

  The Armchair Detective and the Peculiar Pocket Watch

  The Armchair Detective In London

  The Armchair Detective and the Mystery of Mandrake

  The

  Armchair

  Detective

  At

  Christmas

  Ian Shimwell

  Contents

  Cast List

  Act One

  Act Two

  Act Three

  Cast List

  TRENCH

  OLD TOM

  DEBSY

  EDITOR LAW

  BRIDGES

  DEVLIN

  GELDA

  GERARD

  Act One

  OPENING MYSTERY MUSIC

  OLD TOM: Come in, young man, the door is open.

  (TRENCH enters the living room.)

  TRENCH: Old Tom, it’s nearly Christmas, yet I can’t see a single decoration. Not even a sprig of holly.

  OLD TOM: I don’t really do Christmas.

  TRENCH: I see – bar humbug and all that.

  OLD TOM: Trench, you are holding two things behind your back – what are they?

  TRENCH: You can’t possibly see from your armchair old timer – so how could you know?

  OLD TOM: (Says smugly:) I assume I am right, then?

  TRENCH: Infuriatingly – yes. How?

  OLD TOM: Easy as one, two, three, Trenchy. One – you have normally sat down by now. Two – both your arms are still firmly behind your back. And Three – the slight strain on your usual pretty face all indicate you are hiding two things. Now, show me.

  TRENCH: Oh, all right then. I apologise for the first one – it was Debsy’s idea.

  OLD TOM: A Christmas present – and so beautifully wrapped up. I am glad to see you are listening to Debsy more these days. If you don’t mind though – I will wait until Christmas Day before opening it.

  TRENCH: (Says quietly:) And I thought you didn’t do Christmas… (Then says normally:) Whatever. And I’ve brought rat to see you – even though he’s sleeping. In fact he’s…

  OLD TOM: …as quiet as a mouse.

  TRENCH: Hah, yes – very good.

  OLD TOM: The cage is a bit small though.

  TRENCH: Oh don’t worry, this is just his mobile home.

  OLD TOM: Right to business, Trench – I assume there is some? And please sit down – you are making the place untidy.

  TRENCH: Oh, right.

  (TRENCH places the rat cage down and sits down.)

  TRENCH: Now, Old Tom – what you’re really asking is: Do I have a Christmas mystery for you?

  OLD TOM: Well, do you?

  TRENCH: More of a Christmas conundrum really.

  (OLD TOM breathes heavily in frustration.)

  TRENCH: All right, all right, I’ll tell you. Devlin’s Department Store in town had a sudden power loss a few days ago.

  OLD TOM: There could be any number of uninteresting explanations for that.

  TRENCH: Ah well, but the Stokeham Herald has exclusively discovered that the main power cable was cut clean through.

  OLD TOM: Sabotage then.

  TRENCH: Which resulted in the store losing an afternoon’s trading – just when the busy Christmas shopping sprees are starting.

  OLD TOM: So, the questions that springs to mind are ‘who?’ and ‘why?’

  TRENCH: Perhaps someone just wanted to save on the electricity bill… Like you, for instance – it’s freezing in here.

  OLD TOM: Heating breeds bugs.

  TRENCH: Anyway, I’ll look into it.

  OLD TOM: But not before you have made us both a nice cup of cold tea to err… warm us up.

  (Light mystery music changes the scene.)

  (TRENCH is pulling and cutting sellotape as he finishes off wrapping his present.)

  DEBSY: Trench, you’ve wrapped it beautifully – with a fancy ribbon and everything. What’s gone wrong?

  TRENCH: Very funny, Debsy.

  DEBSY: Is it for me?

  TRENCH: No, it’s my Christmas present for Luke.

  DEBSY: Oh Luke, now I see. No I don’t – who’s Luke, a secret love child by any chance?

  TRENCH: Not quite. Luke is your predecessor Sally-Anne’s and her partner John’s love child, I mean baby boy. Although, by now – he’ll be more than a toddler. I’ll be sending the toy onto London.

  DEBSY: Toy? What is it?

  TRENCH: I don’t know – you’re more like the little kid. All right, it’s a combine-harvester, if you must know.

  DEBSY: I’ll be grown up now – and say: isn’t that slightly unusual?

  TRENCH: Father Christmas gave me a combine-harvester when I was little – it was the most marvellous, wondrous present I’d ever received. I played with it for many, many hours. I just thought that Luke might like one too.

  DEBSY: Good job I don’t know him then – I would have only sent him a skipping rope!

  (The office door opens.)

  EDITOR LAW: Are you two busy? Good, I’m glad you’re not. I’ve a job for you both.

  DEBSY: Hang on, I’ve still to finish my Scrooge award for bosses. I hate to say it, Editor Law – but you are very near the top of my list…

  EDITOR LAW: I’ll ignore that last comment.

  TRENCH: And I still have to delve into Devlin’s Department Store.

  EDITOR LAW: Good, because it concerns that story. I’ve just had Devlin himself on the ‘phone – another incident has occurred at the store.

  TRENCH: What’s happened now?

  EIDTOR LAW: Somebody somehow managed to jam the doors to the first floor – it took them hours to force them open.

  TRENCH: More lost trade, at the busiest time of year…

  EDITOR LAW: Quite so.

  DEBSY: What about the lift?

  EDITOR LAW: Oh, that worked perfectly, Deborah –but didn’t help. You still have to walk through the glass doors – after coming out of the lift.

  TRENCH: And the fire doors?

  EDITOR LAW: Well, you can look into that one.

  DEBSY: What do you mean?

  EDITOR LAW: The good news is: I’ve secured you both temporary part-time Christmas jobs!

  TRENCH: I’m sorry, but I absolutely refuse to be the in-store Santa Claus.

  DEBSY: And I’m no elf! Or Santa’s little helper come to that.

  EDITOR LAW: Don’t worry. Trench, you are going to be a store security guard.

  TRENCH: Do I get to wear a uniform?

  EDITOR LAW: Yes.

  TRENCH: I accept!

  EDITOR LAW: And you Deborah will be the store detective.

  DEBSY: Great! I’ll be working undercover as a store detective, who is working undercover as a normal shopper…

  TRENCH: I’d prefer it Debs, if you just worked under a cover.

  DEBSY: Hah, hah.

  EDITOR LAW: Enough – your purpose is to find out who has a grudge against Devlin’s Department Store.

  TRENCH: Do you owe this Devlin a favour or something, Editor Law? Got it! You play golf with him.

  EDITOR LAW: No, but I have shared a few rounds with one of his uncles. And, naturally the Stokeham Herald will have exclusive rights to the resulting story.

  TRENCH: I knew it.

  DEBSY: And who’ll be doing our job while we’re… err
working undercover? Will it be you, sir?

  EDITOR LAW: The beauty of you only being at the store part-time is that you’ll have plenty of time to come back here and catch up with your proper job as well.

  DEBSY: (Says sarcastically:) Wonderful.

  (Whimsical, Christmas-type music changes the scene.)

  (We hear the till roles ringing and the customers rummaging inside Devlin’s Department Store.)

  TRENCH: Can I help you, madam?

  DEBSY: Yes, would you please direct me to the nearest thief, if you’d be so kind.

  TRENCH: Yes, the next shopper that comes inside Devlin’s with a swag bag and a stripy jersey – I’ll give you a shout.

  DEBSY: Ah, so that’s where I’ve been going wrong – so now I know what to look for.

  TRENCH: Well, Debs – what do you think of my security guard uniform?

  DEBSY: It’s err very secure. And do I look like a normal shopper?

  TRENCH: I suppose you look like a shopper – I don’t know about normal though. So, have you seen anybody acting suspiciously?

  DEBSY: Apart from you, you mean? No, not really.

  TRENCH: That dog behaved strangely though – you know the one by where we came in. It hated me.

  DEBSY: Oh, by the tradesman’s entrance? You mean Snowy.

  TRENCH: Now, come on – how do you know it’s called Snowy?

  DEBSY: It was a Snowy dog for heaven’s sake – so I’m calling the little love, Snowy. Yes, and the rascal was barking and growling at me too, remember?

  TRENCH: Now, I don’t blame darling Snowy for that.

  DEBSY: Watch it – or I’ll have you arrested. I am the store detective, you know.

  TRENCH: And I’m security – so that makes us even.

  DEBSY: So, Chief of Security Trench, have you found anything out yet? You know, the real reason we are here.

  TRENCH: Nope – but this floor is the one we should concentrate our efforts on.

  DEBSY: The first floor – why?

  TRENCH: The power cut affected the whole store – but the jammed doors…

  DEBSY: …only affected this floor – I see. And how were the doors jammed?

  TRENCH: The wires of the controlling mechanism were snipped in an, err control box.

  DEBSY: And thank-you Mr security guard for backing me up with that suspect shoplifter.

  TRENCH: Debsy, what the hell are you talk… Oh, can I help you Mr err..?

  BRIDGES: Bridges, the floor manager. You’re new, aren’t you?

  TRENCH: Yes – I’m Trench, and I’ll be keeping an eye on things.

  BRIDGES: And have you lost something, madam? How can Devlin’s be of assistance?

  DEBSY: You think I’m a customer? Brilliant! My fiendish disguise has worked perfectly…

  TRENCH: Bridges, meet Debsy – your new store detective.

  BRIDGES: Devlin should consult me before hiring new staff. I’ll be having words with him later.

  TRENCH: Oh, don’t worry about that – we’re only here temporarily.

  DEBSY: You know, just to cover the Christmas rush.

  BRIDGES: I see. So, what do you think of my floor?

  DEBSY: I’m not too keen on the pattern. (TRENCH kicks DEBSY.) Ouch! No, I mean it’s very busy, isn’t it? The toy department’s over there and children’s clothing is on the far side.

  TRENCH: The toys in particular should be very profitable at this time of year.

  BRIDGES: Yes, with ‘should’ being the operative word.

  TRENCH: I don’t understand.

  BRIDGES: It’s just my luck that the only busy rented-out space in the entire store is on my floor. It takes all the children’s attention away from the toys – and hardly makes any money incidentally. So, while other floor managers can maximise their profits – I’m stuck.

  DEBSY: We’ve not come across this little oddity yet, have we Trench?

  TRENCH: Err… no.

  BRIDGES: You wouldn’t have – it’s tucked away in the far corner. Come, I’ll show you.

  (They walk across the floor.)

  TRENCH: Oh, Devlin thought someone has a grudge against the shop.

  BRIDGES: The man’s paranoid – always has been. Although there have been a few incidents recently…

  TRENCH: He briefed me to keep an eye on the situation though. Have you seen anyone behaving suspiciously?

  BRIDGES: Ah, here we are.

  DEBSY: A cuckoo shop! A stall that sells cuckoo clocks.

  BRIDGES: And makes them as well in the viewable workshop. I mean, look at all those kids staring at the old duffer with hammer and chisel.

  DEBSY: I know, they seem fascinated.

  BRIDGES: But not spending!

  TRENCH: I think the precision instruments are a little bit more subtle than your ‘hammer and chisel’ description.

  BRIDGES: Well. The couple are barking mad too.

  DEBSY: Now, what makes you say a thing like that? They seem friendly and kindly.

  TRENCH: Yes, he makes the clocks and she seems to be selling them. What’s mad about that?

  BRIDGES: The price. Even though I say it myself, the craftsmanship is marvellous. The clocks should retail at two hundred plus, but they will only accept ten pounds for each one.

  DEBSY: I bet the waiting list is long.

  BRIDGES: It is. (We hear a beep.) Ah, Devlin wants me.

  (The cuckoo clocks all seem to ‘cuckoo’ at the same time.)

  DEBSY: Err… that’s cuckoo for ‘bye’.

  (TRENCH laughs.)

  (Christmassy music passes some time.)

  TRENCH: Detective Debsy, we meet again.

  DEBSY: It’s gone an awful lot quieter.

  TRENCH: Dead. Probably the lunchtime-lull. Which gives us a chance to have a chat with the cuckoo couple.

  DEBSY: Cuckoo. Sorry, that’s cuckoo for ‘I agree’.

  (DEBSY and TRENCH start to walk towards the cuckoo clock stall. Suddenly, the harsh ringing of a fire alarm belts through the store.)

  DEBSY: Fir… fir… fire! Don’t panic!

  TRENCH: Don’t you panic. It’s probably only a fire drill. Come on, we’d better go.

  (The bell ringing evolves into a Christmassy bell arrangement as the scene changes.)

  OLD TOM: A mince pie?

  TRENCH: Let me guess, Old Tom – at least three years old?

  OLD TOM: Oh no, these have been allowed to mature for a full five years.

  TRENCH: Oh, go on then.

  OLD TOM: Here’s your plate and pie then. (OLD TOM passes TRENCH the plate with the mince pie on.) You may now drink your tea, Trench – it should be cold enough.

  TRENCH: You’re too kind, sir. Mince pies are an improvement – but still no festive decorations?

  OLD TOM: They would only be in my way, when I am dashing about the flat.

  TRENCH: I never thought of that. Couldn’t you even stick some holly on your armchair?

  OLD TOM: No, I would not – that might be very painful.

  TRENCH: Now, I’d never thought of that!

  OLD TOM: Then think of this, Trenchy – did you examine the fire door on the first floor at Devlin’s?

  TRENCH: I’ll admit, I did forget about the fire door – only temporarily mind you. I finally remembered to take a look at the door during the fire alarm – like when we… err were trying to escape.

  OLD TOM: A false alarm, I presume?

  TRENCH: Now, how could you..?

  OLD TOM: It fits in with the case profile, that is all.

  TRENCH: I didn’t know this case even had a profile.

  OLD TOM: They all do, my boy. Patterns, coincidences – apparent and otherwise, clues and connections.

  TRENCH: So, what does this ‘profile’ tell you, old boy?

  OLD TOM: As it is Christmas, I will let that pass. The profile suggests that our mystery antagonist wants to hurt Devlin’s but only in non-violent ways.

  TRENCH: Ah, I see – hence the false alarm assumption.

  OLD TOM: Deduction, not assum
ption.

  TRENCH: Sorry, I meant to say deduction. Blame it on Debsy’s influence.

  OLD TOM: I will do no such thing. Now, about the fire door.

  TRENCH: I don’t follow.

  OLD TOM: You said that you belatedly examined it.

  TRENCH: Oh yes, I did. The only strange thing about the fire door was that the glass cylinder – which you have to break, to open the door – had been completely removed.

  OLD TOM: Perhaps something had replaced the cylinder when the floor-entrance doors were jammed - and had since been removed.

  TRENCH: That would explain it, I think.

  OLD TOM: But what would explain the three ‘attacks’ on Devlin’s? Each resulting in considerable loss of Christmas trade.

  TRENCH: The power out; the jammed doors and the false fire alarm – but who’s doing it, and why?

  OLD TOM: The jammed doors at least points to the target being the first floor – so let’s look at the suspects bearing that in mind. Maybe the target is not the whole floor, but simply part of it – like a stall for instance.

  TRENCH: The cuckoo clock shop – then Bridges would be a prime suspect – he seems to blame the charming cuckoo couple for deflecting the customer’s attentions from his toy sector in particular.

  OLD TOM: You said they were charming – who are this couple with cuckoos?

  TRENCH: They’re about your age, Old Tom.

  OLD TOM: I see, in their prime.

  TRENCH: Gerard makes the clocks, so beautifully and intricately – and his wife, Gelda sells them.

  OLD TOM: Gelda, that sounds German.

  TRENCH: You know, I think she is.

  OLD TOM: Look into it Trench, question them both. If they are the intended victims, such information could prove very useful.

  TRENCH: Anything else while I’m on security watch?

  OLD TOM: Request an audience with Devlin himself. I realise he instigated our investigation by seeking help, but all the same…

  TRENCH: The old double-bluff, eh Old Tom? Yes, I’ll talk to him.

  OLD TOM: And keep your eyes wide open, Trench. We don’t know yet what other Christmas ‘presents’ are in store at Devlin’s…

  (A longer piece of mystery music indicates the end of Act One.)