The Armchair Detective: Series One

by Ian Shimwell

  OLD TOM: Oh yes, I agree Stonebridge is after these flats or rather the land, but I think there is more to it than that.

  TRENCH: You do?

  OLD TOM: If you wanted to purchase something, dodgy shall we say, on the quiet – would you make such a song and dance about it? Why publicise the faults of Mayflower Court? You could stir up a hornet’s nest with do-gooders and so on. Stonebridge, in his position, could quite easily acquire this land hush, hush and at the drop of a hat with his connections.

  TRENCH: So why, indirectly, encourage us to poke our noses in? Maybe he didn’t, maybe it’s all a coincidence.

  OLD TOM: I don’t do coincidences.

  TRENCH: But what should I do about it now?

  OLD TOM: Grasp hold of the bag of marbles and shake them up a bit. See what happens.

  TRENCH: Stir things up? All right, I will.

  OLD TOM: But be careful, Trench, sometimes a marble falls out of the bag – and shatters on the floor.

  TRENCH: I’ll have to make sure I’m not that particular marble, then.

  OLD TOM: I think I’ll have that tea now; it should be nice and cold. Pass it, will you?

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

  ACT TWO

  SALLY-ANNE: You've been to see Sam Stonebridge, haven't you, Trench?

  TRENCH: Calm down, Sally-Anne - it was only for a little chat.

  SALLY-ANNE: I don't think our editor will see it that way. I'd keep my head down, if I was you - he'll be on the warpath.

  TRENCH: In that case, you'll see me hide behind my desk every time he walks past then.

  SALLY-ANNE: And you promised not to see Stonebridge, anyway.

  TRENCH: I didn't, I just said I wouldn't follow this story up - that's all.

  SALLY-ANNE: Well, you have followed it up.

  TRENCH: You know what it's like when you have a hunch, don't you? No, sorry you don't - you have to rely on women's intuition.

  SALLY-ANNE: Be careful, Trenchy.

  (SALLY-ANNE sighs.)

  SALLY-ANNE: Listen, I advise you to drop it. Winding Stonebridge up will only get you sacked.

  TRENCH: I can't.

  SALLY-ANNE: What are you, an old folk’s home revolutionary or something?

  TRENCH: No.

  SALLY-ANNE: Got it, you've been to see Old Tommy again, haven't you? He's put you up to this.

  TRENCH: I might have, it's not a crime.

  SALLY-ANNE: I feel sorry for you, Trench. You're hanging your own career out to dry, to fuel an old man's fantasies.

  TRENCH: His name is Old Tom, actually.

  SALLY-ANNE: Old Tom? I've never heard anything so ridiculous.

  TRENCH: What have you got against him?

  (From several offices away, there is an almighty bellow.)

  EDITOR LAW: Trench, my office - now!

  SALLY-ANNE: I think our esteemed boss is requesting the pleasure of your company.

  TRENCH: Really, I hadn’t noticed - but I think I’ll go and check, just in case.

  SALLY-ANNE: You do that. (SALLY-ANNE sighs in an amused fashion.)

  (TRENCH joins EDITOR LAW in the office.)

  EDITOR LAW: Close the door, Trench.

  (We hear TRENCH shut the door.)

  EDITOR LAW: Sit.

  TRENCH: Thank-you, Editor Law.

  EDITOR LAW: If I remember rightly, I simply requested that you asked some old dears some questions, not upset my golfing partner. Why have you upset my golfing partner?

  TRENCH: I - I didn’t mean to. The story just kind of lead to Mr. Stonebridge.

  EDITOR LAW: So, the story is to blame - not you. (Then says impatiently:) Why did the story lead to Sam, err Stonebridge?

  TRENCH: It seems there is a connection between pressure for the Mayflower to go and your friend’s acquisition of the land.

  EDITOR LAW: Oh, grow up, Trench, the council simply doesn’t have the resources to restore those flats, so Stonebridge - or someone like him will always profit from change.

  TRENCH: You’re probably right.

  EDITOR LAW: Is it because you’ve befriended an old gentleman who lives in the flats?

  TRENCH: How did you..?

  EDITOR LAW: Sally-Anne let it slip.

  TRENCH: I must thank her later.

  EDITOR LAW: Need I say anymore, Trench?

  TRENCH: No, Editor Law, you don’t - but can I ask you one thing: Did Stonebridge suggest this paper quiz the Mayflower residents about their complaints?

  EDITOR LAW: (Who takes a deep breath to calm himself.) Yes, yes he did.

  TRENCH: I knew it - but there still could be more to it…

  EDITOR LAW: Oh, pursue this madness if you must - just keep Sam Stonebridge out of it - and don’t bother him again. Understand?

  TRENCH: You’re the boss.

  (A change of music indicates a change of scene and time.)

  (There is a knock and the front door opens.)

  TRENCH: Sorry, to bother you, Mrs Stonebridge.

  LINDA STONEBRIDGE: Oh Linda, please.

  TRENCH: I was wondering if your husband was at home at the moment?

  LINDA STONEBRIDGE: Oh you’re Trench, that reporter fellow, aren’t you? Do come in.

  (We hear the shuffling of footsteps as TRENCH enters - and the door closing.)

  TRENCH: Yes, we briefly met the other day.

  LINDA STONEBRIDGE: Do sit down on my lovely sofa - there. Well, I’m sorry but Sam is away on business - is there anything I can do for you?

  TRENCH: I’m trying not to think… Err, it’s late afternoon, yet you’re still wearing your nightdress.

  LINDA STONEBRIDGE: What’s the point in changing if you have nowhere to go - and your husband is ‘working late’?

  TRENCH: Where is he, actually?

  LINDA STONEBRIDGE: Strangely, he said some senior civil servant from the Foreign Office had summoned him for a meeting, but by now, he’s probably being intimate with that tart of a secretary of his.

  TRENCH: Jill Masterson.

  LINDA STONEBRIDGE: Maybe she sees him as some sort of replacement father-figure seeing as she’s never really had one.

  TRENCH: You are pretty young too actually and pretty.

  LINDA STONEBRIDGE: How sweet - but my main attraction for Sam is his money. Now, you on the other hand…

  TRENCH: You mean..?

  LINDA STONEBRIDGE: Yes, I am already in a state of undress - let’s make things more even.

  TRENCH: Hadn’t we better go…

  LINDA STONEBRIDGE: …upstairs? I’m already ahead of you.

  (We hear them scramble upstairs.)

  TRENCH: Oh, Linda.

  (We hear them kissing.)

  LINDA STONEBRIDGE: Oh, Trench.

  (We hear the front door opening.)

  TRENCH: Oh, God.

  STONEBRIDGE: (Who SHOUTS:) Linda, Linda where are you? Come on, I won’t be in long.

  TRENCH: I don’t think your wardrobe is big enough to hide in. (Then says, irritably:) You said he was out.

  LINDA STONEBRIDGE: Well now he’s back in. Quick, I’ll see to him in the living room, while you slip out through the kitchen.

  STONEBRIDGE: (Who now almost roars:) Linda!

  LINDA STONEBRIDGE: Stop shouting honey, I’m coming.

  (More music, this time with a lighter note. Again, the scene and time move on.)

  SALLY-ANNE: Where the hell have you been all afternoon?

  TRENCH: Good afternoon Trench, how are you?

  SALLY-ANNE: Well?

  TRENCH: You don’t want to know.

  SALLY-ANNE: I do want to know - and you are going to tell me. You’ve not been to see Stonebridge again, have you?

  TRENCH: Not exactly - he was out as I suspected he would be, but his wife was in.

  SALLY-ANNE: So, you had a cosy chat then?

  TRENCH: You could say that…

  SALLY-ANNE: Do you like the smudged lipstick look?

  TRENCH: Oh no.

  (We hear TRENCH furious
ly trying to rub the lipstick off.)

  SALLY-ANNE: Pathetic, Trenchy.

  TRENCH: What’s wrong Sally? Jealous, are we?

  SALLY-ANNE: You are supposed to be on a story. Look around at our messy desks, the Stokeham Herald won’t write itself.

  TRENCH: I did actually discover one useful thing, Sally of the Anne.

  SALLY-ANNE: Such as..?

  TRENCH: Stonebridge appears to be having an affair with his secretary.

  SALLY-ANNE: That might explain his wife’s strange behaviour towards you - what’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander - that sort of thing.

  TRENCH: Thanks, Sall.

  SALLY-ANNE: But I don’t see how it helps the Mayflower flats situation - it may give the secretary more influence though…

  TRENCH: And a motive for his wife to cause trouble…

  SALLY-ANNE: I’m becoming confused about these flats - you said Stonebridge wants them demolished for his eventual profit.

  TRENCH: Yes, but I think there might be someone else subtlety at work behind-the-scenes trying to keep Mayflower Court exactly where it is, for reason or reasons unknown. And, I may have a lead on that…

  SALLY-ANNE: Well, are you going to tell me, Trench or are you going to continue looking like a smug bar-steward?

  TRENCH: Linda, err Stonebridge’s wife also told me that her ‘beloved’ Sam had been summoned to a meeting at the Foreign Office, no less.

  SALLY-ANNE: You think there could be a connection? A conspiracy, an expose exclusive on the government? Our careers could shoot into orbit after this; I would be a leading writer for The Observer while you might be a tabloid hack for The Sun.

  TRENCH: Your faith in me is touching.

  SALLY-ANNE: I have a contact at the Town Hall who might be able to help us. Come on, he usually works late, we might be able to catch him.

  TRENCH: I thought you said this was all a wild goose chase?

  SALLY-ANNE: That was then, this is now.

  TRENCH: Oh, thank-you, by the way Sally-Anne for informing our editor about my chats with Old Tommy, err Old Tom.

  SALLY-ANNE: What are friends for?

  (Faster paced music illustrates another change of scene and time.)

  (We hear TRENCH and SALLY-ANNE walking down the corridors of the Town Hall.)

  TRENCH: I thought we’d have trouble getting in the Town Hall at this time.

  SALLY-ANNE: I know, thank goodness for council-friendly Press Passes.

  TRENCH: Wait, listen - I can hear something.

  (They stop - a couple’s heavy breathing can be heard.)

  SALLY-ANNE: (Says quietly:) I think it’s coming from the next office. The door’s ajar.

  TRENCH: (Also says quietly:) I’ll just have a peep. (And then says slightly too loudly:) Stonebridge! Making out on the photocopier!

  SALLY-ANNE: Shhh. Here let’s have a look. He’s with his secretary, I presume.

  TRENCH: Jill Masterson. All right, I exaggerated about the photocopier.

  SALLY-ANNE: Well, now we know they are definitely seeing each other! But how do we get past the door without being spotted?

  TRENCH: And if Stonebridge sees us, we will be out of here and out of a job - that is Editor Law’s editor’s law.

  SALLY-ANNE: Oh come on, let’s just walk past. I’m sure their minds are on other things at present.

  (We hear their quickened steps as they carefully dash past the door.)

  SALLY-ANNE: Right, now Timothy’s office which should be just… here.

  TRENCH: Oh, Timothy is it?

  SALLY-ANNE: Please grow up Trench.

  (There is a knock and the door opens.)

  TIMOTHY: Sally - hi, and Trench, I assume.

  SALLY-ANNE: Hi Timothy. We’re here for some info on Mayflower Court.

  TIMOTHY: Like what?

  TRENCH: Anything Tim, it might be something on the site of Mayflower Court, something before even the flats were built, perhaps.

  SALLY-ANNE: And if that something involves the Foreign Office - then bingo!

  TIMOTHY: Let’s have a look on the old computer then.

  (We hear TIMOTHY tapping away on his computer.)

  TIMOTHY: I’ll cross-reference the age of the Mayflower flats - thirty years incidentally - with any significant local activity. Interesting… a wholesale jeweler was robbed in the same year. Let’s go back further… There was an incident, on the actual Mayflower site, during the latter stages of the Second World War.

  TRENCH: What sort of ‘incident’?

  TIMOTHY: I can’t tell you - the information is security protected. Could be sensitive…

  SALLY-ANNE: But, with the Freedom of Information Act - that’s ridiculous.

  TIMOTHY: All I’m getting is: ‘Access denied’ reason: ‘National Security’.

  SALLY-ANNE: How odd.

  TRENCH: And how could a security issue from over sixty years ago, somehow pose a threat today..?

  (More mystery music ends this scene, and time moves on again.)

  (We hear TRENCH walking along one of the balcony corridors of Mayflower Court.)

  TRENCH: I certainly have a lot to tell Old Tommy.

  JENKINS: Excuse me sir, may I ask your business?

  TRENCH: I’m Trench, a reporter with the Stokeham Herald.

  JENKINS: Really?

  TRENCH: I’m here to see Old Tom.

  JENKINS: Old Tom? Never heard of him.

  TRENCH: Here, look - here’s my Press Pass, if you don‘t believe me.

  JENKINS: Yes, I see. I’m sorry - old habits die hard. I’m an ex-police officer - Sergeant actually. Jenkins at your service.

  TRENCH: Retired?

  JENKINS: No, I just decided to leave - pressure and all that. It was an awful long time ago - at least three decades have been and gone…

  TRENCH: Well, if you’ll excuse me.

  JENKINS: I remember now, you were here the other day with a young lady - err Sally-Anne, that was her name.

  TRENCH: I was - but I’m afraid, Jenkins, I am going to have to dash…

  JENKINS: She was asking questions about the state of this place. Well, I’ll tell you what I told her…

  TRENCH: (Who says resignedly:) Very well then, if you must.

  JENKINS: The communal areas are filthy; the rooms are damp and cold; the wallpaper is either torn or coming off; the lift doesn’t work and the whole place smells of something.

  TRENCH: (Who sniffs.) Can’t say I’ve noticed. So, apart from that, the flats are all right..?

  JENKINS: If you ask me, Trench - these whole flats should be bulldozed down immediately. If something’s rotten - get rid, that’s what I say - the sooner the better.

  TRENCH: But this… Mayflower Court is your home.

  JENKINS: That’s easy for you to say, you don’t have to live here.

  TRENCH: What about the people who do want to stay here?

  JENKINS: Soft in the head, must be. I want one of those new, apartment-style flats nearby - once I’ve said good riddance to the dead Mayflower.

  TRENCH: I’ll pass on your comments, goodbye.

  (TRENCH hurries away, climbs a set of stairs and knocks on a familiar door.)

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

  (A piece of more gentle music signifies the passage of a relatively short period of time.)

  OLD TOM: So, the plot thickens…

  TRENCH: … and becomes murkier.

  OLD TOM: (Who chuckles.) I assume Mrs Stonebridge is rather good-looking then…

  TRENCH: Now, you couldn’t possibly know about that…

  OLD TOM: There is still a sliver of lipstick right on the corner of your mouth.

  TRENCH: Oh. (He wipes it off with his finger.) There’s certainly nothing wrong with your eyesight.