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The Armchair Detective The Early Years (Special Editions)

Page 21

by Ian Shimwell


  DEBSY: I wasn’t. Can I come round with you one day and meet him?

  TRENCH: I’m afraid it doesn’t quite work like that.

  DEBSY: (Who’s a bit put out.) Oh. What do you boys talk about then?

  TRENCH: Other than cold tea?

  DEBSY: What?

  TRENCH: Never mind. Usually the investigation or story of the day.

  DEBSY: So, you’re discussing Gilcrest Gadgets at the moment?

  TRENCH: By George, she’s got it!

  DEBSY: Hah.

  TRENCH: (Who suddenly speaks firmly.) Debsy, promise me you will never attempt to visit Old Tom, will you?

  DEBSY: Why so serious? (She sighs.) All right, I promise.

  TRENCH: Thanks.

  DEBSY: Right, are we going to sit around here all day, or are you going to buy me another drink?

  (DEBSY slaps her empty glass on the table for effect.)

  (Thoughtful music changes the scene.)

  OLD TOM: I’ll pour the tea.

  (We hear OLD TOM pouring the tea.)

  OLD TOM: Oh dear, I forgot the milk. Trench, fetch the milk while you’re doing nothing.

  TRENCH: Yes, tell you what, Old Tom, I’ll go all the way into the kitchen for the milk and there’s no need for you to get up from that infernal armchair of yours.

  OLD TOM: Good boy.

  (TRENCH bad-temperedly goes to the kitchen and rummages about for the milk.)

  TRENCH: (Who shouts:) I can’t find the milk anywhere, it’s not in your usual bucket of water.

  OLD TOM: Oh, silly me – the milk’s under my armchair. It must have been there all the time.

  (TRENCH re-enters the living room and plonks himself down while OLD TOM pours.)

  TRENCH: I give up.

  OLD TOM: The tea’s nice…

  TRENCH: …and cold.

  OLD TOM: Right, now where were we?

  TRENCH: We were talking about Marconi.

  OLD TOM: Yes, I think it would be extremely worthwhile to shed some light on Gilcrest’s shadowy business partner.

  TRENCH: And where in Gilcrest Gadgets does Kathy work? Debsy still doesn’t know, although she’s tried. Come to think of it, Debsy is very trying…

  OLD TOM: I will have to take your word for that.

  TRENCH: Trust me.

  OLD TOM: I do and I suspect, reading in-between the err packing lines, that there might be a hidden packing line that dear old Debsy has not come across yet.

  TRENCH: Connected with Marconi? Now, that would make an awful lot of sense.

  OLD TOM: Find the fifth production line, Trench – and then perhaps we can finally discover what is really going on at the gadget factory…

  (Mystery music indicates the end of Act Two.)

  Act Three

  DEBSY: Remind me again, Trenny – what are we doing hanging around outside the factory gates well after finishing time? It’s cold and I’m hungry and I’m tired. I’ve done a full day’s work, you know.

  TRENCH: Simple, Deborah. Stop moving for a moment and I’ll tell you. We are waiting to catch a glimpse of that elusive fellow, the mysterious Marconi.

  DEBSY: I know that – but why?

  TRENCH: He’s a hard chap to track down. This could be the only way… Wait, someone’s coming.

  SECURITY GUARD: Goodnight, sir.

  MARCONI: Quite.

  DEBSY: (Who whispers:) Yes, I think that’s him.

  TRENCH: Debsy, what are you whispering for? We do actually want to attract his attention.

  (We hear MARCONI walk away.)

  DEBSY: Oh yeah.

  TRENCH: Then come on. Let’s catch him up.

  (DEBSY and TRENCH run along the pavement to catch MARCONI up.)

  DEBSY: (Who’s breathing heavily.) I’ll be with you in a moment when I have my breath back, Mr… Mr..?

  MARCONI: …Mark Marconi. Who’s this, your boyfriend?

  DEBSY: No, of course… yes. I mean, how do you know?

  MARCONI: Smoker’s corner, Debsy. I keep an eye on my staff at break time.

  TRENCH: Your staff, Marconi? I thought Gilcrest is in charge?

  MARCONI: And you are..?

  DEBSY: He’s Trench. Sorry about this, sir. I’ve hardly ever seen you before, never mind spoken to you.

  MARCONI: Busy man, Debs, busy man. And talking about being busy, I’m going to have to dash to catch my bus even though all this has been so very interesting.

  TRENCH: The bus stop’s only round the corner. We’ll wait with you there.

  MARCONI: If you insist.

  (They walk round the corner and stop at the bus stop.)

  TRENCH: You must have been mistaken. According to this timetable, there’s not another bus due for ten minutes.

  MARCONI: What do you actually want, Trench?

  TRENCH: A chat. Don’t blame Debsy, but I’m a journalist and…

  MARCONI: Hold it right there, I never talk to the Press.

  DEBSY: It’s not too bad, you know. Err, I believe.

  TRENCH: I only want to know, how you managed to double Gilcrest Gadgets’ share prices overnight. Strictly off the record, of course.

  MARCONI: Damn bus. Oh very well, if you must know. I am responsible for bringing Project C to the Gilcrest factory.

  TRENCH: What is Project C?

  DEBSY: A wonder-product?

  MARCONI: It must remain a secret for a little while longer to achieve maximum… impact. All I can tell you is that when Project C is on line, a huge amount of money will be made. The company will go… Oh, here’s my bus – goodbye.

  (The bus stops and picks up MARCONI.)

  DEBSY: He didn’t sound very Italian.

  TRENCH: No, that’s what I thought.

  DEBSY: I’m still hungry, you know.

  TRENCH: What do you fancy, an Italian?

  (Quirky, yet thoughtful music changes the scene.)

  (TRENCH is typing away on his computer in the Stokeham Herald office. The door opens.)

  TRENCH: Debsy – what are you doing here?

  DEBSY: Oh thanks, good morning to you too.

  TRENCH: Well, shouldn’t you be at ‘work’?

  DEBSY: I’m on the ‘butty run’, so I thought I’d stop here before collecting the sandwiches for my fellow packing girls.

  TRENCH: ‘My fellow packing girls’. You are settling in there. I’m touched.

  DEBSY: Yeah, you are touched.

  TRENCH: It’s nice to see you and all that Debs, but as you can see I’m very busy. After all, I am having to carry you, you know.

  DEBSY: Watch it, Trench. We both know I’m not moonlighting for fun, well mostly not. But I did pop over to give you some good news.

  TRENCH: Which is?

  DEBSY: After constant badgering and mithering and pestering, Kathy has finally agreed to show me where she actually works.

  TRENCH: The hidden production line?

  DEBSY: I’ll tell you at elevenses, when I should have the chance to nip out for a smoke. I’ll have seen it by then, whatever ‘it’ may be.

  TRENCH: I don’t know – ‘butty run’, elevenses – your employer doesn’t half spoil you. I’m surprised you ever have time to do some packing!

  DEBSY: Hah, very funny. I don’t have time to much reporting though, which reminds me: Is Editor Law in today? I hope he hasn’t missed me yet.

  TRENCH: Relax, Editor Law is playing golf all day. Some sort of county championship or something. As for missing you, he told me yesterday that you’ve been doing a great job in the last few days. I don’t know whether that’s a good or bad thing.

  DEBSY: I’d better go for the butties.

  TRENCH: See you at elevenses, dear.

  DEBSY: Bye bye.

  (Brisk music moves the time on.)

  TRENCH: Here she is, about time.

  DEBSY: (Who coughs.) This smoking is a drag. (She laughs at her own unintentional joke.) That’s quite good. Anyway, I haven’t long – Gilcrest has informed everyone that a major announcement will be made at a full staff me
eting at three o’clock.

  TRENCH: How interesting… Do you know if Gilcrest has a meeting with Marconi prior to that announcement?

  DEBSY: No, but I can find out. I’m sure I can access other people’s diaries on the factory computer system.

  TRENCH: Good work, Debsy – and did you see the phantom production line where your friend, Kathy is supposed to work?

  KATHY: (Who joins them.) Yes, yes she did.

  DEBSY: Oh, hi Kathy – fancy a cigarette?

  KATHY: No thanks, I have my own.

  TRENCH: Dare I ask what was so special about the secret packing line?

  KATHY: Yes, you have dared so, so tell him Debsy.

  DEBSY: Err, it was all so brand new and futuristic. Fully computerised – and very efficient.

  TRENCH: But what was the actual product being packed there?

  DEBSY: Ah, I couldn’t actually see that, but then again for safety reasons, I had to wear these strange goggles that had a different coloured lens in each eyepiece.

  KATHY: We had better go, come on.

  DEBSY: I’m coming.

  TRENCH: Wait – Kathy, can I come to the meeting this afternoon by any chance?

  KATHY: I doubt you would ever get past security…

  (Music, laced with suspicion closes the scene.)

  (We hear the toaster pop up.)

  OLD TOM: The crumpets, they are ready.

  TRENCH: I’ll go and fetch them, shall I?

  (There’s no answer from OLD TOM, so TRENCH goes in to the kitchen.)

  TRENCH: Where’s the butter?

  OLD TOM: Oh, sealed in two plastic bags in the bucket of water where the milk is. You know, next to the fridge.

  TRENCH: Silly me for not thinking…

  (We hear TRENCH buttering the crumpets.)

  TRENCH: I know this is probably, somehow a daft question, but why don’t you keep the milk and butter in the fridge?

  OLD TOM: I don’t like fridges. Anyway, I like to eat fresh!

  TRENCH: I knew I shouldn’t have asked.

  (TRENCH returns to the living room with the buttered crumpets. He gives a crumpet to OLD TOM and sits down opposite his old friend.)

  TRENCH: Well, let’s eat up.

  OLD TOM: Oh, no no no. We must wait for the crumpets to become cold before eating.

  TRENCH: I should have known.

  (TRENCH places his still full plate on the table.)

  TRENCH: As I was saying, Old Tom, Debsy discovered that Gilcrest and Marconi are having a meeting at two o’clock – one hour before the ‘major announcement’.

  OLD TOM: Just as I suspected, but it doesn’t leave you with much time, Trench.

  TRENCH: You want me to go there? To Gilcrest Gadgets, now?

  OLD TOM: Yes, you must, I’m afraid. But first understand why. Think about the clues so far…

  TRENCH: The secretive nature of Gilcrest; publicity shyness; lack of openness regarding his business partner, Marconi; the remarkable increase in share prices…

  OLD TOM: And the hidden production line.

  TRENCH: Yes, Kathy showed Debsy around it. Very splendid, apparently but Debs could not tell what product it was packing. She was also wearing strange, different coloured goggles.

  OLD TOM: Now, think about Marconi himself…

  TRENCH: Marconi implied that Kathy’s packing line was responsible for producing ‘Project C’ – but what is it? A wonder-product, something very profitable for Gilcrest Gadgets?

  OLD TOM: ‘Project C is on’, I believe that’s what you said Marconi spoke of…

  TRENCH: Yes…

  OLD TOM: Tie it all in with the latest issue of the Stokeham Herald. Come on – think, Trench think.

  TRENCH: The Stokeham Herald..? Yes, of course! It all fits perfectly into place. Now, why couldn’t I make the connection?

  OLD TOM: Rustiness? Don’t be too hard on yourself, Trench – because you are going to have to desperately dash. You had better leave your crumpet for later.

  TRENCH: Yes, I must reach the factory – before, before…

  OLD TOM: Before it’s all over…

  (TRENCH dashes from OLD TOM’s flat.)

  (Fast-paced music moves things along.)

  TRENCH: I demand to be let in! I must see Gilcrest at once.

  SECURITY GUARD: I’m sorry, sir. Entry to the factory is strictly by appointment only, and besides, I believe Gilcrest is in a top-level meeting at present.

  TRENCH: Just call him, please – it’s important.

  SECURITY GUARD: If you insist… (He dials the internal number.) Sorry to disturb you sir, security here, but there is a Mr… err?

  TRENCH: Trench.

  SECURITY GUARD: Trench. He is demanding to see you right away.

  TRENCH: Tell him it is of the most vital importance concerning the whole factory.

  SECURITY GUARD: Did you hear that, sir? Good, very good – I will.

  (The SECURITY GUARD puts the ‘phone down.)

  SECURITY GUARD: Surprisingly, Mr Gilcrest said you can go right through.

  (The SECURITY GUARD presses a buzzer which releases the door mechanism. Without waiting, TRENCH rushes through.)

  (A very brief spell of hectic music moves time along.)

  SECRETARY: I’m sorry, you can’t go in there, sir. They are having an important meeting.

  TRENCH: I know – and don’t worry, I’ve been invited.

  (A couple of pairs of footsteps rush to the scene.)

  TRENCH: Debsy and Kathy. Good timing, I hope.

  DEBSY: We saw you rushing past – and followed.

  KATHY: What are you doing here, Trench? And how did you get in?

  TRENCH: I am here to disrupt a meeting – like this!

  (TRENCH flings the office room door open and marches inside. DEBSY and KATHY follow.)

  GILCREST: Trench – and couple of packing girls. How nice, and you are only just in time. Trench, would you be so good as to pass this cheque to Mr Marconi?

  TRENCH: Certainly.

  (TRENCH takes the cheque from GILCREST.)

  TRENCH: It is a cheque for five hundred thousand pounds, made payable to Mark Marconi.

  MARCONI: Do you have a problem with that?

  TRENCH: No, I don’t.

  MARCONI: Then give it to me.

  TRENCH: It is for an awful lot of money…

  KATHY: (Who shouts:) Just give it to him!

  TRENCH: Mr Gilcrest, before you hand cheques out – you should really check, you know.

  GILCREST: Meaning?

  TRENCH: Meaning, you can have your cheque, Marconi – but in pieces!

  (Dramatically, TRENCH tears up the cheque.)

  KATHY: No!

  DEBSY: That’s torn it!

  TRENCH: A rip off for a rip-off, wouldn’t you say, Marconi?

  MARCONI: You are as mad as a hatter, Trench. Gilcrest, please write me another one if you want Project C, the wonder-gadget, to launch this backstreet factory into an international success story.

  TRENCH: ‘Project C is on’, I think that’s what you said – or should I say, Project Con?

  DEBSY: The con is on?

  GILCREST: Will someone explain to me, what exactly is going on here?

  TRENCH: I think it’s high time we all visited the fifth production line – without the fancy goggles this time…

  KATHY: You blundering fool, Mark – I warned you this was too big, too dangerous…

  MARCONI: It’s time for us to leave.

  (MARCONI and KATHY push their way out. GILCREST picks up his office ‘phone.)

  GILCREST: Ah, security – don’t let Marconi…

  TRENCH: …or his wife.

  GILCREST: …and his wife, Kathy leave just yet. Thank-you.

  (GILCREST puts the ‘phone down.)

  TRENCH: The production line, then.

  GILCREST: I think I should, don’t you?

  DEBSY: Right, follow me then. Walk this way, but don’t walk my way – you might attract funny looks! Oh, and I quit, by the way!r />
  (Mystery music changes the scene.)

  TRENCH: So, Old Tom, what do you think the fifth production line was?

  OLD TOM: It was… nothing. It simply did not exist, it never existed. In fact, it was little more than an empty room.

  TRENCH: How did you know..? No, I know how you knew now…

  OLD TOM: It was all, of course, a rather compelling confidence trick.

  TRENCH: ‘A compelling con’, I like that. And Marconi had five hundred thousand reasons to get it right – which he very nearly did.

  OLD TOM: A long con, meticulously planned. Posing as a top executive, Marconi chose a relatively vulnerable victim – a son wanting to prove himself, to emerge from his father’s shadow.

  TRENCH: Gilcrest.

  OLD TOM: Yes, Marconi fed Gilcrest with dreams of impossible success – success that would have cost him everything.

  TRENCH: He was convincing though, even the Stock Market was fooled. Hence, the share price hike.

  OLD TOM: Marconi employed his wife, Katherine to look after ‘Project C’ for him.

  TRENCH: He could even allow tours of the fifth production line.

  OLD TOM: Naturally, as long as they wore their special goggles.

  TRENCH: Yes, that was one of the clues that clinched it for you, Old Tom, wasn’t it?

  OLD TOM: Almost, yes. A cheap projector and three-dimensional or 3D glasses provided the illusion of an ultra-expensive packing line.

  TRENCH: Maybe Gilcrest somehow subconsciously suspected Marconi?

  OLD TOM: Perhaps that is why he allowed you past security…

  TRENCH: But you, old timer, consciously suspected Marconi. Was there anything else that was to eventually seal his fate, in your eyes?

  OLD TOM: I found it rather curious that you followed Marconi to a bus stop of all places. I would have imagined that a high-flying executive of his obvious calibre would be driving a top-of-the-range sports car or something else unnecessarily flashy – and not catching the number nine bus.

  TRENCH: Point taken. And Marconi himself, of course, provided the infamous ‘Project C is on’ clue. Over-confidence, wouldn’t you say?

  OLD TOM: Or the arrogance of a twisted sense of humour.

  TRENCH: You even worked out they were a married double-con-act before I did.

  OLD TOM: You really ought to pay more attention to your Debsy. She probably mentioned the articles she was writing?

  TRENCH: Dear Debsy did talk about a couple of foreign grifters along with a noisy neighbour story she was working on.

 

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