The Armchair Detective On Holiday: Series One

by Ian Shimwell

  SALLY-ANNE: Which is..?

  TRENCH: We will have only one more afternoon to solve the fishy problem of Fisherman’s Cove.

  SALLY-ANNE: Oh that? That’ll be a piece of cake compared to your absence excuse to our editor!

  TRENCH: Very funny. Well, here we are – are you going to knock or am I?

  SALLY-ANNE: Does it matter?

  (SALLY-ANNE knocks on the front door.)

  CONSTANCE: Oh, it’s you – you’d better come in.

  (TRENCH and SALLY-ANNE enter.)

  CONSTANCE: Please sit down. (CONSTANCE then raises her voice:) Aunt Sarah, those journalists are here to speak with you again. (And then normally:) She should be down on the stair-lift shortly.

  TRENCH: Actually Constance – we also wanted a quick chat with you too.

  CONSTANCE: Really? I want to help, of course – but I was only eight on that terrible day. I’ve told you all I can remember.

  SALLY-ANNE: Excuse the personal question, Constance – but you’ve never married, have you?

  CONSTANCE: Is it that obvious? No, no I haven’t – I’ve become the archetypal old spinster. I suppose, perhaps sadly, just like my Aunt Sarah.

  TRENCH: Just not met Mr Right?

  CONSTANCE: More to do with the loss of my father – and something else… For some reason, I have never wanted to stray too far from Aunt Sarah. And before you think it, it’s not the money. Although you could say, ‘that’s easy for me to say.’

  SALLY-ANNE: Are you close to your Aunt Sarah?

  CONSTANCE: No, no I’m not. I would say distant. Yes, distant is a better description for our relationship.

  (SARAH struggles in.)

  SARAH: Constance, I thought I told you not to let these people in here again.

  CONSTANCE: They want to find my father so, Aunt Sarah, as far as I’m concerned they can stay.

  SARAH: Very well. Ask your questions and then leave. Do you really think you can discover anything new when proper detectives investigated my brothers’ disappearance a lifetime ago, for months on end, and still came up with nothing?

  SALLY-ANNE: Our question concerns the photograph, Miss Quinn. Take another look, please.

  SARAH: No, I’ve seen it many times – I will not look at it again.

  TRENCH: We want to know: who was the person who took the picture on that day?

  SARAH: Ooh.

  (SARAH faints and crashes to the floor.)

  CONSTANCE: Aunt Sarah! She’s all right – no knocks of the physical kind, at least. I think perhaps you should go now though.

  SALLY-ANNE: Of course, Constance – we’re sorry.

  CONSTANCE: Are you? I’m not.

  TRENCH: And that’s what I find very curious…

  (Curious music ends the scene.)

  (We hear the usual background noises associated with a hotel restaurant.)

  SALLY-ANNE: The Sandy Star does make a lovely lunch. I’ll give them that.

  TRENCH: Oh, and thanks Geoffrey for stepping in and introducing that display for me.

  GEOFFREY: You know me, Trench – anything I can do to help.

  SALLY-ANNE: Quite. At last the endless talks and meetings are over – with only the post-conference party bash to endure – I mean enjoy tonight, and then home.

  GEOFFREY: Which brings me to some rather bad news – especially for you, Sally-Anne. My editor has recalled me to the Ghoulmouth Gazzette so, Sally, you won’t be able to have that last dance with me, after all.

  SALLY-ANNE: I’m devastated.

  TRENCH: That makes finding the solution to this mystery even more urgent. So, we are all going to do an awful lot of digging this afternoon – starting now. We need to search old sea records, log books to try to find out what The Schooner was carrying in that safe.

  GEOFFREY: Ah, I can help you out there.

  SALLY-ANNE: (Says with suppressed annoyance:) Well?

  GEOFFREY: The Schooner was holding a rare and expensive diamond: ‘The Star of Rhodesia’ – the Great Star of Africa’s little sister actually. I know because I also freelance as a recovery agent for one of London’s top insurance companies. My two jobs dovetail quite nicely on this job.

  SALLY-ANNE: You could have mentioned this earlier. Err, it might have helped, you know.

  GEOFFREY: The information is rather sensitive – and secret. For reputation protection purposes, even the police at the time of The Schooner’s sinking…

  TRENCH: … and the brothers Quinn’s disappearance…

  GEOFFREY: … were not informed.

  TRENCH: I understand totally your reticence then, Geoffrey. Thankfully, you’ve told us now. This changes things…

  SALLY-ANNE: I’ll say – and it fits in remarkably with my mornings search during the conference keynote speech.

  TRENCH: The cheek! Talk about me missing a bit of the conference – you missed the actual finale. Come to think of it, I’ve not seen you very much in the Press Suite, particularly late morning.

  SALLY-ANNE: No, and Editor Law didn’t miss me either. I don’t know whether that’s a good or bad thing. Now, where was I? Ah yes, while the hotel manager was eavesdropping to the keynote speech, I slipped into his office and browsed through the hotel books – and discovered that the proprietor of this very hotel is none other than, Sarah Quinn.

  TRENCH: Well snooped, Sally-Anne. Of course, so that’s how Sarah already knew of our Press conference, so to speak. Wait, the name of the hotel, The Sandy Star.

  GEOFFREY: The Star of Rhodesia.

  SALLY-ANNE: Now, that is a connection.

  TRENCH: Which brings the ball, or should I say diamond, firmly in Aunt Sarah’s court. But we still need more… Geoffers, do you feel like going snorkelling again and diving down to The Schooner for perhaps more clues? Your friend, Mad Jack, will probably lend you his boat again. He won’t even speak to me, you know. Well, Geoffrey?

  GEOFFREY: Message received, accepted and understood.

  TRENCH: We’ll meet you on the harbour.

  SALLY-ANNE: We?

  TRENCH: Yes, Sally-Anne. Fancy another stroll along the beach?

  (‘Busy’ music moves things along.)

  (We hear the flight of seagulls; the gusts of the wind; the waves crashing on the sands and the footprints of TRENCH and SALLY-ANNE as they walk along the beach.)

  SALLY-ANNE: Of course, this could be an excuse for a romantic stroll along the beach.

  TRENCH: Well, yes – and the opportunity to recreate the scene from the Quinn brothers final photograph.

  SALLY-ANNE: Men… I give up. What makes you think that will help? And, anyway, haven’t we done that before?

  TRENCH: Humour me. Old Tom keeps saying that everything comes back to the picture.

  SALLY-ANNE: Old Tom this, Old Tom that. Really Trench, you think of your precious Old Tom more than… me.

  TRENCH: Come on, Sally-Anne – we are here to solve this mystery.

  SALLY-ANNE: Maybe you are. All right, what do you want me to do?

  TRENCH: I think… yes, this is the spot – let’s try and exactly recreate it. You stand there pretending to be the brothers and I’ll be the person taking the photograph.

  SALLY-ANNE: I have one problem with this: one, I’m a sister not a brother and two, I’m singular not plural. Apart from that, I’ll go with it. Actually that’s two problems but let’s not quibble.

  TRENCH: Perfect Sally-Anne. Now, you are the first brother who’s looking straight at the camera.

  SALLY-ANNE: Neat idea, Trenchy – pretending the photo is the camera.

  TRENCH: I know, I can study the photograph at the same time as the recreation.

  SALLY-ANNE: All right, don’t get big-headed.

  TRENCH: Now shuffle along slightly to the next brother.

  SALLY-ANNE: (Says with a frustrating sigh of breath:) Really. Is that OK?

  TRENCH: Yes, now don’t look at me but the headland. No, not the peak, look where the cliffs join the sea – yes that’s it!

  SALLY-ANNE: You think that
’s important?

  TRENCH: Maybe. But it’s, at least, important enough to change Geoffrey’s diving plan – come on, let’s see where he’s up to.

  (Pacey music moves the scene on.)

  (We can hear the sea water slopping on the sides of the boats in the harbour.)

  GEOFFREY: It’s all arranged, Trench and Sally – Mad Jack here has kindly offered me the use of his rowing boat.

  TRENCH: Thanks, Mad Jack. Err, Geoffrey – will you thank the man for me?

  GEOFFREY: We appreciate the gesture, sir. Now, off to the wreck of The Schooner.

  SALLY-ANNE: Oh, there’s been a slight change of plan.

  TRENCH: Yes, we’ll be rowing to the headland, looking for a subterranean smuggler’s cave.

  MAD JACK: No, no – you’ll be cursed like I was. Cursed with an awful madness. Cursed, I tell you.

  (We hear MAD JACK run away, terrified.)

  GEOFFREY: I wonder what’s got into him?

  SALLY-ANNE: One way of getting rid of him, I suppose. Trench, what are you looking so happy about?

  TRENCH: I don’t believe it. Mad Jack actually spoke to me!

  (Sea-faring music moves the ‘voyage’ along.)

  (The choppy waters can be heard, as they distantly crash on the headland.)

  SALLY-ANNE: How long do you think Geoffrey will be down there, searching for this supposed cave?

  TRENCH: How long is a piece of string – with a sea-knot in it?

  SALLY-ANNE: I was just thinking Trench, Mad Jack is the antithesis – that’s the opposite in your language – to your Old Tom.

  TRENCH: In what way, Sally-Anne? Oh and thanks for the English dictionary definition.

  SALLY-ANNE: Well, Mad Jack made a point of not speaking to you, whereas Oldy Tommy speaks only to you and no-one else.

  TRENCH: I don’t know what to say. Fascinating, truly fascinating…

  (GEOFFREY bursts up out of the water.)

  GEOFFREY: I’ve found it! I’ve found the cave.

  TRENCH: Excellent, Geoffers.

  SALLY-ANNE: Well, what’s in it?

  GEOFFREY: Ah, that’s why I’ve come back – for my torch.

  TRENCH: Here’s your torch. How deep is it? Could you lead me down?

  GEOFFREY: No problem, it’s not too far down – come on.

  (TRENCH strips off and dives into the water.)

  (A few subterranean sounds illustrate the dive down. They swim underwater for a short while and emerge from the sea once inside the cave. GEOFFREY takes his head gear off.)

  TRENCH: The cave, we’ve made it.

  GEOFFREY: Here, you have the torch. It is your story, after all.

  TRENCH: Right, I’ll go on ahead.

  (We hear TRENCH and GEOFFREY struggle through the narrow confines of the cave.)

  GEOFFREY: Well, Trench – what can you see?

  TRENCH: I… I can see it all. Geoffrey, we have finally uncovered the fifty year-old secret of Fisherman’s Cove…

  (Mysterious music ends the scene.)

  OLD TOM: So, nearly all the elements – and I’m not just talking about the sea elements – are in place after half-a-century. You’ve done quite well, Trench.

  TRENCH: It was you that gave me the vital clue, Old Tom. ‘It all keeps coming back to the picture’ – and you were proved right.

  OLD TOM: Of course, the photograph also meant that something special was going to happen that day.

  TRENCH: Does it? I mean, did it?

  OLD TOM: Think Trench, think. Fifty years ago, photography was a lot more expensive than it is today. And could you really see ordinary fisherman having their picture taken for the usual smugglers cache of mundane contraband?

  TRENCH: I see what you mean. The picture was, in a way, a celebration of the brothers’ acquisition of the fabled ‘Star of Rhodesia’.

  OLD TOM: Yes, Trench and you know what you must do now then?

  TRENCH: Go and confront the person responsible for the tragedy of the brothers Quinn.

  OLD TOM: And discover the final secret: what really happened on the day fate played all the cruel cards… in the tides of time.

  (Deep, reflective music sets the scene…)

  SALLY-ANNE: What are you thinking?

  TRENCH: I’m thinking, Sally-Anne, that I’m going to confront Mad Jack and ask him… and ask him: does my breath smell or something? Is that why he never speaks to me?

  SALLY-ANNE: Shh Trench – they’re coming.

  CONSTANCE: The stair-lift’s not working – I had to help my aunt down.

  SALLY-ANNE: There’s no need to apologize for it, Constance.

  SARAH: I thought I had made it more than clear, crystal in fact, that I did not want to speak to you two again.

  TRENCH: Crystal… or diamond? You’re a star, Aunt Sarah.

  SARAH: What are you talking about?

  TRENCH: Sit down, Aunt Sarah.

  SARAH: I am not your…

  CONSTANCE: Please, do as he says.

  (CONSTANCE helps her AUNT SARAH to sit down.)

  SARAH: Really, I must protest – this is all becoming increasingly insufferable, not to mention ridiculous.

  TRENCH: We have found your brothers, Sarah.

  SARAH: No.

  CONSTANCE: My father.

  SALLY-ANNE: Yes.

  TRENCH: The two skeletons are remarkably well preserved in an old subterranean smugglers’ cave just beneath the Fisherman’s Cove headland. I believe they have been there for fifty years. And I believe that it was you, Sarah Quinn, who took that final photograph on the day of their death.

  SARAH: It wasn’t me, Constance – don’t believe their lies. Their terrible lies…

  TRENCH: Aunt Sarah, you knew they had just captured the precious Star of Rhodesia, didn’t you? It was a far cry from their usual petty smuggling. You knew of the smugglers cave – you had probably been there many times. So please, end the silence – and your dark secret: tell us what really happened on that day.

  SALLY-ANNE: Come on Sarah – if not for us, do it for Constance. You surely owe her that much.

  CONSTANCE: Aunt Sarah, tell me… tell me… my father… you must.

  (AUNT SARAH takes a heavy breath.)

  SARAH: It was all a tragic accident really on what began as a special, wonderful… day. I had taken the photograph on the beach. Your father, Constance was actually holding The Star but it’s hidden by a shadow. My brothers then swam to the headland with the diamond, and dived down to their secret cave. Only myself and their friend Jack knew about the cave, until now…

  CONSTANCE: Go on.

  SARAH: They were to hide the diamond in the cave until all the expected fuss died down – but when my brothers were in the cave, that’s where everything went wrong. A storm had seemed to have whipped up from nowhere – and one of the highest tides in history, a freak event, said the weathermen – must have drowned my poor older brothers in the cave. They were accomplished divers but the currents must have been too strong to allow their escape. They must have died painfully… and slowly. Watching the water creep above their necks. Hoping for the tide to recede but, all the time, knowing and fearing the worst…

  SALLY-ANNE: But you could have rescued them. You could have sent Jack or other fisherman out to help them.

  TRENCH: But, maybe Sarah, you wanted The Star diamond all to yourself?

  SARAH: How was I to know the high tide would kill them? They had hidden in that cave many times before – and had been safe, and even dry.

  TRENCH: But you went back, didn’t you? When the tide had gone out, you plucked the diamond from your dead brothers’ corpses that has financed your lifestyle, ever since. Even your hotel: ‘The Sandy Star’.

  SARAH: Constance, I didn’t know they were going to die. Please, believe me.

  CONSTANCE: Your greed killed my father. Goodbye, Aunt Sarah.

  SARAH: Where are you going?

  CONSTANCE: Well away from you. I think I always sensed your guilt somehow. I should have left years ago. />
  (CONSTANCE sweeps out and firmly closes the door behind her.)

  SALLY-ANNE: Constance was always your conscience, Sarah – and now you’ve lost even that.

  (Music tinged with sadness closes the scene.)

  (We can hear lively music in the background and jokey conversations – the post-conference party is in full swing.)

  SALLY-ANNE: I can’t believe what I’m seeing – can you Trench?

  TRENCH: I don’t want to. Editor Law breakdancing in the middle of the dance floor. How embarrassing… or groovy. Come on, let’s look away.

  GEOFFREY: Great news guys – I can make the party, after all. I’m here!

  SALLY-ANNE: Wonderful.

  TRENCH: Put it there, Geoffers.

  (We hear TRENCH and GEOFFREY slap their hands together.)

  GEOFFREY: One thing, Trench – you had help with this investigation, didn’t you? Was it that guy you visited in that deserted, derelict guest house?

  TRENCH: I don’t suppose it can do any harm. Yes, Old Tom’s help was invaluable but he’s a very private person so mum’s the word, eh?

  GEOFFREY: Message received, accepted and understood. Right, Sally-Anne we can now have that dance you’ve been looking forward to. Sally-Anne, where’s she gone?

  TRENCH: Err, I think she’s powdering her nose or something…

  (The lively tune slowly changes to the more familiar mystery music.)

  TRENCH: ‘The tides of time’. You knew about the unusually high tide, how?

  OLD TOM: That’s simple, Trench – whenever I go to the seaside I always take my books detailing past and future tides.

  TRENCH: Why is that, in case you go for a swim?

  OLD TOM: Something like that.

  TRENCH: Dark brown. You are back in your dark brown armchair. Are you glad to be home, Old Tom?

  OLD TOM: I suppose I am. I’ve never been a good traveller, really.

  TRENCH: You do surprise me. Oh, one other thing: how did you know Geoffrey could help me out with the contents of ‘The Schooner’ safe?

  OLD TOM: Pure deductive reasoning – with an added leap. Geoffrey all too quickly joined your quest for the brothers Quinn. He had already prepared his snorkelling equipment and diving skills – and rather too conveniently found The Schooner. Which all pointed to ‘Geoffers’ knowing initially more than he claimed.

  TRENCH: And do you think Mad Jack saw the remains of the Quinn brothers?