The Armchair Detective The Early Years (Special Editions)

by Ian Shimwell

  TRENCH: You toil beautifully - it suits you!

  SALLY-ANNE: Thanks, Trench - I’m working here undercover, actually.

  TRENCH: And what have you uncovered?

  SALLY-ANNE: I have retrieved evidence from the Landlord’s Ledger which will blow this diluting beer scam right open.

  TRENCH: A word of warning, Sally-Anne - it’s quite possible you may upset Sawn-Off and his Syndicate. Believe it or not, I like your pretty little neck the way it is.

  SALLY-ANNE: Don’t you dare patronize…

  TRENCH: Shh, the Landlord’s coming and we have visitors.

  (We hear activity as two men enter the pub.)

  LANDLORD: What can I get you, gentlemen? On the house, of course.

  SAWN-OFF: The usual.

  TRENCH: Sawn-Off and Happy, delighted to bump into you again. Are you here for social or business reasons?

  HAPPY: Here.. Collect.

  SAWN-OFF: No, Happy - how many times have I told you? We don’t ever collect, we are simply paid for services rendered.

  HAPPY: Sorry… Sawn-Off.

  SAWN-OFF: I’m sure I’ll manage to somehow forgive you in the fullness of time. And what is your business here, Trench? Wait, that barmaid seems vaguely familiar. Drat, she’s gone in the back.

  TRENCH: Don’t they all look the same, Sawn-Off?

  SAWN-OFF: What, barmaids?

  TRENCH: Err, yes.

  SAWN-OFF: Actually Trench, I am glad we’ve met again, after that ill-fated search for our Drug Dealer. I now consider you a friend and I like the way you operate.

  TRENCH: Gee, thanks.

  SAWN-OFF: My brother, who let us say, runs a business enterprise in the East-End of London has met with an unfortunate and fatal accident - which means I will be taking over his patch, along with Happy and the rest of the Syndicate, of course. Care to join us, as my right-hand man?

  HAPPY: Me right man.

  SAWN-OFF: Sorry Happy is right. As my left-hand man then?

  TRENCH: A tempting offer, but if I wanted to eventually leave the, err Syndicate I would hate for you to have to go through all that rigmarole like you did with Miss Hargreaves. And, anyway - I’m just a pen-pusher at heart.

  HAPPY: Me kill… boss?

  SAWN-OFF: No, not today Happy. I’ve already told you that Trench is now a friend of mine - and we don’t kill friends, do we? Well, not usually.

  HAPPY: Me happy.

  SAWN-OFF: Yes, I know. Now Happy follow - I have some concluding business with the Landlord. Goodbye for now, Trench.

  TRENCH: Be seeing you.

  (We hear them move away.)

  SALLY-ANNE: Good, they’ve gone.

  TRENCH: And we don’t need to worry about them, because Sawn-Off and Co. are off to London.

  SALLY-ANNE: That’s a relief.

  TRENCH: Sally-Anne, Marcus really hurt you, didn’t he? I’m sorry it worked out the way it did.

  SALLY-ANNE: I’m not, because after all, I’m glad I didn’t disappear!

  (Music moves time along and the scene changes.)

  TRENCH: So, Old Tom before I’ve really even said anything, you’ve told me the complete story of the mayhem at the manor-house, how?

  OLD TOM: Deductions enlighten many a shadowy corner. Firstly having deduced where and who Emmy really was, it was easy to assume that the locked bedroom had more to do with the eccentric delusions of Devesham rather than his son. However, the lady in the lake argument was more compelling.

  TRENCH: Yes, how did you know there never was a body in the Dreadbury Punchbowl.

  OLD TOM: It was all too contrived, Trench.

  TRENCH: All right, how did Marcus know I would even meet up with Sawn-Off by the swamp?

  OLD TOM: You had already told me that Marcus had an elaborate security system. He knew that Sawn-Off was an occasional visitor and had probably just seen him on camera prior to his obvious Punch and bowl clue.

  TRENCH: Brilliant, old timer.

  OLD TOM: And the maid, Gemma had to be the missing Emmy. Why call your servant by their Christian name? The aristocracy simply doesn’t do that. It struck me as over-familiarity. The dropped milk, when you first mentioned Emma, Trench. Marcus and his maid were often seen together - and you even saw them kiss, eventually. Also their closeness was the likely reason that Marcus spurned Sally-Anne’s advances in the dead of night…

  TRENCH: Yes, I can see the clues building up, creating a near-complete picture.

  OLD TOM: And inevitably there’s the clincher.

  TRENCH: You’ve lost me, old boy.

  OLD TOM: Marcus really was toying with you. He said there was no gee gees at Dreadbury.

  TRENCH: Yes, because of Emmy’s apparent allergy to horses.

  OLD TOM: No gee gees – odd language, if I may say so. No Gs. Take the G away from Gemma…

  TRENCH: And you get Emma, another name for Emmy – of course.

  OLD TOM: And if you add the clues to Marcus’ and Emmy’s motivation for being rid of Sawn-Off and the Syndicate, the picture is not only complete, but also framed.

  TRENCH: And framed beautifully, may I say? Although we can’t really use this as a story for the Stokeham Herald. Sally-Anne’s forthcoming expose on the Landlord’s shenanigans at the Cock and Pheasant will help a bit, though.

  OLD TOM: I’m glad.

  TRENCH: So, the manor-house mystery has been solved by the Armchair Detective.

  OLD TOM: You played your part well too, Trench. Away in the field, so to speak.

  TRENCH: Praise indeed.

  OLD TOM: Well, Trench do pop in again if you stumble across another case in desperate need of ‘solvation’.

  TRENCH: I will. Goodbye then, Old Tom.

  OLD TOM: Before you do go though, Trench - go and make the tea again. You did such a good job last time. You know, through the hallway, turn…

  TRENCH: Yes, I remember where the kitchen is.

  (We hear TRENCH get up and walk to the kitchen. He turns the kettle on.)

  TRENCH: (Who shouts from the kitchen.) Hang on, like last time, we’ll have to wait for the tea to cool down. Which means I’ll be here for ages.

  OLD TOM: (Who chuckles.) Yes, young Trench, I suppose you will.

  CLOSING MYSTERY MUSIC

  THE

  ARMCHAIR

  DETECTIVE

  and the

  CELEBRITY

  STALKER

  INTRODUCTION

  "My name is Darnia Storm. I was a stunning glamour model, now I'm a beautiful actress. I adore men - and love women. But not everyone shares my amazing success. Jealousy and bitterness are now my co-stars. Someone is stalking me, but who? I need help..."

  Trench takes the Lead, and Old Tom directs the Show from backstage...

  CAST LIST

  TRENCH

  OLD TOM

  SALLY-ANNE

  EDITOR LAW

  DARNIA STORM

  DONNY DAVIES

  VIVIEN VELVET

  BEN

  DIRECTOR

  ACT ONE

  OPENING MYSTERY MUSIC

  (There is a knock on the front door.)

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

  (We hear TRENCH enter the flat and settle down opposite OLD TOM.)

  TRENCH: You’ve just made yourself a cup of tea, Old Tom – it’s steaming.

  OLD TOM: Yes, it will be quite a while before it’s cold enough to drink.

  TRENCH: And it’s been quite a while since all that business at the Manor-House.

  OLD TOM: That was a particularly absorbing mystery and there is nothing, young Trench that I find more absorbing than an absorbing mystery. So, what particular story at the Stokeham Herald can I unleash my investigative mind on today?

  TRENCH: Err, that stunning glamour model-turned-actress, Darnia Storm is appearing in a Play all next week at the Stokeham Empire.

  OLD TOM: (Sounds bored all of a sudden.) And how can I help you with that?

  TRENCH: Does there always have to be some sort
of case to solve? Can’t I come here just to simply see you? Is that a crime?

  OLD TOM: My time here, Trench is very valuable. I will not waste a minute of it on idle chatter or on a so-called celebrity who can’t even act.

  TRENCH: I’m sorry to have troubled you then. I don’t think I’ll bother coming here again.

  OLD TOM: It is probably best you don’t. I am not here just to talk, only to help.

  TRENCH: Well, Old Tom, from now on I’ll try to report my stories without your help.

  OLD TOM: Good for you, Trenchy.

  TRENCH: I’ll be off then.

  OLD TOM: Goodbye.

  TRENCH: And I’ll never come back, unless I become really stuck, of course.

  OLD TOM: (Who chuckles softly.) Of course.

  (We hear TRENCH leave the old man.)

  (Music moves on the time and scene.)

  (We hear TRENCH shuffling his papers about on his desk and tut-tutting.)

  SALLY-ANNE What is wrong with you, Trench?

  TRENCH: Nothing, why should anything be wrong?

  SALLY-ANNE You’ve been making a nuisance of yourself all afternoon. You’ve been quite remote, awkward, ignorant, grumbling to yourself and generally making the office look untidy. Come to think of it, Trenchy – you are actually just being your usual self.

  TRENCH: (Says slowly with a heavy hint of sarcasm:) Hah, hah – very funny, Sally-Anne.

  SALLY-ANNE: You nearly managed something half-resembling a smile then. Congratulations

  TRENCH: If you must know, me and Old Tom are finished.

  SALLY-ANNE: I didn’t know you were going out together!

  TRENCH: Will you let me know when you’ve taken your funny head off, and then we can have a proper conversation?

  SALLY-ANNE: Sorry, I know how fond you are of your cosy little chats with Old Thomas. What’s happened, had a lover’s tiff or something? Oops, at it again.

  TRENCH: Right that’s it, Sally-Anne – I’m not telling you now.

  SALLY-ANNE: Oh come on, Trench. Really, have you had a disagreement?

  TRENCH: He virtually threw me out of his damned Mayflower flat. He complained that I wasn’t there to discuss a new story or case. Obviously it’s a problem to have an innocent chat with an old friend.

  SALLY-ANNE: Tom may be old, Trench – but isn’t he really more of a new friend?

  TRENCH: Oh, you know what I mean.

  SALLY-ANNE: Do you want me to go and have a talk with him?

  TRENCH: No. Old Tom doesn’t seem to like strangers or visitors of any kind in fact.

  SALLY-ANNE: Including you at the moment.

  TRENCH: Except when I have some sort of baffling mystery to solve, then Old Tom’s all ears.

  SALLY-ANNE: So it’s simple then – we just need a story with an intriguing puzzle to bring you two love-birds back together. I must stop that.

  (The door creaks open further and busy footsteps are heard.)

  TRENCH: Ah, Editor Law – what can we do for you?

  EDITOR LAW: Playing nicely children? Yes..? Well in that case, may I introduce you to, Miss Darnia Storm.

  (We hear intakes of breath as the sound of DARNIA’s stilettoes are heard entering the office.)

  SALLY-ANNE: Close your mouth, Trench. Electric fly-traps are all that’s necessary for this building.

  TRENCH: Stunning, truly beautiful…

  DARNIA: I beg your pardon.

  TRENCH: I mean Storm, Miss Storm – truly a beautiful name.

  DARNIA: Oh call me Darnia please, darling – all my friends do.

  EDITOR LAW: This is Trench and his colleague Sally-Anne.

  SALLY-ANNE: Excuse me Editor Law, but I won’t have that. Trench is my colleague, not… Ooh, how nice – who is that gorgeous, err gentleman behind you, dear?

  DARNIA: Oh, that’s just Ben Brown. He’s my bodyguard.

  EDITOR LAW: Right, now that all the introductions are over with, I think it’s time we got down to business.

  DARNIA: Yes, I assume this is the show business department of the Paper?

  SALLY-ANNE: I’m afraid not, Darnia. The Stokeham Herald doesn’t exactly stretch to having a show…

  EDITOR LAW: … a showstopper section – that’s what we call it. Although unlike your profession Miss Storm, there are no stars here.

  TRENCH: Speak for yourself, boss.

  (DARNIA laughs.)

  EDITOR LAW: But we all like to muck in anyway. And yes, this is the section of my esteemed newspaper that handles all the showbiz gossip; I mean show business related items.

  DARNIA: I’m satisfied, so I’ll ‘cut to the chase’ – as I said in a B movie that I’m not terribly proud of.

  (TRENCH sniggers.)

  DARNIA: I have come here for your help. I am being… stalked – and I want you to expose the psycho that’s bothering me.

  SALLY-ANNE: Shouldn’t you be going to the police about this, or at least a private detective?

  DARNIA: Dear girl, the police would basically mean going public and my experience with private-eyes in the past has proved them unreliable.

  SALLY-ANNE: Journalists aren’t exactly known for their discretion, you know.

  DARNIA: Which brings me to the deal. In return for keeping quiet and discovering the identity of my sick stalker, you have my promise of an exclusive on this story – and my amazing life so far. Well, what do you say?

  EDITOR LAW: They agree to your deal, Miss Storm – unreservedly. This could be the making of this Paper.

  DARNIA: What is your reaction, Trench?

  TRENCH: I’ll have to stalk, I mean follow you around. I’ll need to stalk, sorry talk to you further; watch you when you are performing – in fact become part of your life to achieve what you are asking for.

  DARNIA: I will look forward to it. I am appearing all next week in ‘Model Murder’ at your Stokeham Empire theatre. And what about you, Sally-Anne?

  SALLY-ANNE: Oh, I’ll need your bodyguard, Ben’s number – purely for the sake of the investigation of course.

  BEN: I will be protecting my mistress – and I am the best bodyguard outside Chicago, so I am not easily distracted.

  SALLY-ANNE: Err, if you say so.

  DARNIA: So, my dear Sally-Anne – if you want Ben, you’ll have to go through me first.

  SALLY-ANNE: (Who clears her throat.) I’ll bear that in mind.

  DARNIA: Your Editor Law here has the details of where you can find me. Goodbye my two friends – for now.

  EDITOR LAW: I’ll see you out.

  (We hear them leave.)

  TRENCH: Well, what do you make of that, Sally-Anne?

  SALLY-ANNE: I think she was coming on to both of us!

  TRENCH: Yes, I have a feeling that this case will be very, very interesting. And do you know what’s going to be even better?

  SALLY-ANNE: What?

  TRENCH: It looks like I’m going to have an excuse to visit Old Tom again after all.

  SALLY-ANNE: (Says in a withering tone:) Oh, Trench.

  (Music with a comedic touch, followed by a tune with an air of seduction changes scene.)

  (There is a careful knock on the door.)

  DARNIA: Who’s there?

  TRENCH: It’s me Trench, Darnia. The hotel receptionist should have said I was coming up.

  DARNIA: I know, with everything that is happening at the moment, I was just making sure.

  (We hear DARNIA remove a couple of chains; withdraw a bolt; unlock the door and eventually open it.)

  DARNIA: Drink Trench? Like me, my mini-bar is very accommodating.

  TRENCH: Why don’t you surprise me, dear Darnia?

  DARNIA: I like surprising people. You’re looking very smart, by the way.

  TRENCH: But not as, dare I say it, as sensationally sexy as you. That revealing skirt certainly shows off your shapely legs to their full potential. Wait a second, can you stop me? Or I’ll need a cold shower.

  (We hear DARNIA finish with the mini-bar.)

  DARNIA: Will a champagne spri
tzer calm you down?

  TRENCH: I’m not sure, but I’m prepared to give it a try.

  DARNIA: Cheers.

  (They clink their glasses together and start drinking.)

  TRENCH: Mm excellent Darnia. Bubbly but sharp.

  DARNIA: A bit like me, then. Where’s the lovely Sally-Anne?

  TRENCH: Indisposed, I’m afraid.

  DARNIA: Shame. I was looking forward to meeting her in my hotel bedroom…

  TRENCH: (His voice slightly high.) Do you realise that your hand is rubbing my thigh?

  DARNIA: Of course I do, Trench. But my hand is only moving gently, ever so gently…

  TRENCH: Before we get carried away, I thought you wanted to talk about your so-called stalker.

  (The caressing suddenly stops.)

  DARNIA: You know how to bring a girl down to earth, I’ll give you that.

  TRENCH: Sorry.

  DARNIA: We might as well sit down in the adjoining suite.

  (They move to the next room and sit down on a sumptuous sofa.)

  TRENCH: Now this is a sofa you could sink in.

  DARNIA: Quite. Well, unfortunately there is nothing so-called about the thing that stalks me. He is as real as you or I.

  TRENCH: You know he is a he then?

  DARNIA: Most of my fans are male. They are more than aware of my glamorous model days. Although I do have a strong female following too.