Bodies from the Library: Lost Tales of Mystery and Suspense by Agatha Christie and other Masters of the Golden Age

GREER: (quickly) Now I think we’ll rearrange the cabins a bit. Miss Annesley won’t want to sleep alone. We’ll put her in with Alice: and Sir James can shift into Number 2 cabin—that’s the single one next to mine. Mr Annesley and Mr Strangeways stay as they are in Number 4. Just an extra precaution. No need to fret yourselves. Mr Maclean will find this chap, if he is on board.

(Fade. Fade into forecastle. Talk. An accordion or mouth-organ playing)

MACLEAN: Tumble out, the watch. Search-party. Stowaway aboard. Evans, take three men and search the deck—lifeboats and everything. Watch yourselves, he may show fight. Escaped lunatic. The rest, follow me.

(Someone whistles. Feet running up ladder, dispersing. Voices. We follow footsteps along deck, down iron ladder into engine-room. Sound of engines grows louder. Following conversation carried on fortissimo)

MACLEAN: Evening, Chief.

VOICE: This is an unexpected pleasure. What can I do for you, Mr Maclean?

MACLEAN: Search-party. There’s a lunatic escaped. He may have come on board last night.

VOICE: Indeed? If you’re looking for lunatics, ye’d better try the bridge, Mr Maclean. Ye’ll not find them in the engine room.

MACLEAN: Sorry, Chief. Captain’s orders.

VOICE: Lunatics! In my engine room! T’chah!

(Sounds of search. Noise of engines fades into noise of sea. On deck. Footsteps)

VOICE I: He’s not in this lifeboat, any road.

VOICE II: I always said it was unlucky, bringing women aboard.

VOICE III: My sister’s husband went balmy. Used to see angels walking about in t’back yard, in nightgowns. Fair knock-off, he was. They had to put him away.

(Voices and steps approaching)

VOICE I: He’s nowhere on deck, sir.

MACLEAN: Very well, Evans. Follow me, you men. Number 1 hold first.

(Sound of steps: then of hatch-cover being removed. Fade into comparative silence of hold, where men are bumping about in search.)

MACLEAN: Show a light over here.

VOICE II: Jees, look at that, chum! The man with the glaring eyes!

VOICE III: It’s a rat, you silly bleeder!

VOICE II: What I say is, no luck ever came from having women aboard.

VOICE I: We heard yer. Talk about a needle in a haystack. Chap could stay hidden for days in this stuff. What I say—

(Fade. Fade in to saloon)

GREER: I didn’t want to say it in front of the ladies. But I don’t mind telling you gentlemen, with all this cargo we’ve got below hatches, a chap might stay hidden for a long time—search-party or no search-party. He’s an ex-seaman. He’d know his way about.

JAMES: Why wasn’t a better watch kept while she was tied up at the quay? Who’s responsible?’

GREER: You can’t allow for escaped loonies running about loose on the docks.

JAMES: You’d better put about, Greer. We’re only four hours out.

GREER: (with cheerful authority. Throughout this scene, James is made to sound peevish and insignificant, in contrast with the assurance of the two ship’s officers. We must realise that he is a rather nasty, frightened little businessman, quite out of his element) No need for that, Sir James.

JAMES: May I remind you that you’re in my employment?

GREER: And you’re in my ship, Sir James. I’m master of this ship, and my authority holds till we’re on soundings again … No, I’ll not make a laughing stock of us both by putting back to port just on the strength of a rumour.

JAMES: You may regret this, Greer.

NIGEL: We mustn’t get excited. After all, even if he is on the ship, it doesn’t necessarily mean he’s going to run amok and stab us right and left. Homicidal maniacs are like volcanoes—dormant most of the time. Unless this chap’s delusions are centred on someone on board, he—

(sharp knock at door)

JAMES: (frightened) What’s that?

GREER: Come in.

MACLEAN: Ship searched. No sign of a stowaway, sir.

JAMES: (breathes audible sigh of relief)

GREER: Well, Mister Maclean?

MACLEAN: I was just thinking, Sir. Ye said this escaped lunatic was reported to be an ex-seaman—a big chap with a limp, a sort of shuffling walk—didn’t ye?

GREER: That’s so. What about it?… Come on, man.

MACLEAN: Well, e-eh, there was a seaman aboard the ‘Mary Garside’ when she went down, A big chap. His leg was crushed when the falls of the starboard lifeboat parted. As you know, we were in an open boat for six days. What with the pain of his leg, and—well, he went off his head.

JAMES: Poor fellow. Very tragic. But I scarcely see—

MACLEAN: They put him in an asylum. The asylum at Newcastle.

(Pause)

JAMES: (whispers to self) At Newcastle?

NIGEL: Ah. This gets more interesting. Perhaps the fellow’s delusions are centred upon someone in this ship. In which case—

JAMES: (wildly) What the devil is this nonsense?

MACLEAN: The poor chap, in his crazed mind, may be holding one of us responsible for the injuries he—

JAMES: Are you suggesting?—