Act 3, Scene 1: Apartment of Mrs. Margaret Dalrymple
Mrs. Dalrymple
is a widow in her seventies, white haired, comfortable.
With three children, seven grandchildren and – thus far – three
great-grandchildren, her elegant apartment is decorated with many, many pictures
in silver and gold frames but also sports several teddy bears, well-loved and
worn dolls and a bookshelf with more slim, tattered volumes than might be
expected. Various other toys serve as bookends or fillers.
A basket of wool
and knitting needles sits at one end of a couch, a magazine basket is shoved
under the coffee table. The furniture is comfortable without being exceptionally
elegant and the overall effect is a pleasant, well lived-in space.
(As the lights come up, Mrs. Dalrymple is
seated in a rocking chair, talking on the phone. She appears ready to go out,
neatly dressed in summer clothing but without jewelry beyond her earrings and a
bracelet on her left wrist. She is
not wearing any rings or broaches.)
Stage right, our burglar is seated in a
car (or car seat) facing the audience, with a cup of coffee. Occasionally, he
looks to his right and up. If he, then he is wearing slacks and a knit shirt.
If she, then she is dressed in a neat pants suit, comfortable but not
fancy. A leather briefcase sits next to him/her.)
Mrs. Dalrymple: “No, I’ve no idea
what
(phone rings)
Mrs. Dalrymple: (returning to pick up phone) “Hello? … Oh, it’s you, Alicia. … No, of course not. It was just that I was expecting … never mind, dear. … No, I’m going to lunch at the country club, one of those things. … This evening? Why of course. … Bring them over, I’d love to see them, you know that. What time? … About five? … That’s fine, you and Robert have a wonderful evening and I’ll teach the twins more about the fine art of poker. … Don’t be silly, Alicia, they need to learn sometime. You did – not as well as I’d like, maybe, but you did learn.” (door bell rings) “Later, then. That would be my cab. Bye bye, dear.”
(hangs up phone, picks up purse and crosses to door, sound of door closing and locking, main stage lights dim for 30 seconds, stage right dims to black)
Act 3, Scene 2: same setting, a few minutes later
(main stage lights come back up with sound of lock opening, door opens to admit burglar carrying briefcase)
Stage right,
black-clad figures are removing car / car seat and replacing with easy chair and
TV to recreate burglar’s apartment.
(burglar locks door again, looks around, sets briefcase on table, examines apartment, room by room, then returns to living room)
(burglar examines living room in more detail, checking book shelves quickly, looks at books but shakes head, finally collects pictures, carrying them to the table where he/she quickly removes the backs of each, placing the pictures in a neat stack and the frames in the briefcase)
Burglar: “Well, silver’s better than nothing. But, I know she has jewelry. Could be in a safe deposit box but …” (rises and walks into bedroom, returning with a jewelry box, empties box on table, sorts through contents briefly, shaking head, turns box over to examine bottom, shakes head again)
Burglar: “Nothing but geegaws. Okay, where’s the real stuff?” (enters kitchen, sounds of refrigerator opening, closing, sounds of cabinets opening, things being moved around, cabinets closing again, burglar exits kitchen still shaking head) “This is not your best day, buckoo. Not even close.”
(Returns to bookshelf, looks at larger
books, opening and then replacing each. Looks
at dolls and toys, shaking several but disappointed. Stops, looking up at large
teddybear on top shelf, lifts it down and examines it, then replaces on shelf.
Shakes head.)
Burglar: (turns to audience and
shrugs expansively) “And sometimes you lose some, right?” (turns to
look at knitting basket, sits down, examines basket, nothing but yarn, needles
and half-finished pieces. Does same with magazine caddy.
Continues looking around but drumming fingers against leg, impatiently.)
(suddenly stoops and lifts armchair from front, looking underneath … smiles and reaches into springs to produce a zipper bag, carries bag to table, opening it carefully, spreads contents on table, picking though items and placing most of them in the briefcase. Holds two items – rings – up to light, then lays them gently on top of the photos)
Burglar: (still smiling) “Fair’s fair, lady. You’re better than most.” (Picks up one exceptionally garish bracelet, looks at it.) “But I did think you had better taste than this.” (shakes head, then adds bracelet to briefcase) “Okay, I’m out of here.”
(picks up briefcase, crosses to door, unlocks, opens, closes, relocks door, fade to black)
Act 3, Scene 3: Mrs. Dalrymple’s apartment, late afternoon
(lights come up as sound of door unlocking, Mrs. Dalrymple enters, looking pleased, then stops abruptly.)
(Stage right, burglar is seated in easy chair, pointing remote at TV as Mrs. Dalrymple enters.)
Mrs. Dalrymple: (slowly) “Oh dear.”
(walks past bookshelves with a brief glance, crosses to table where photos are stacked, sits facing audience as she picks up two rings, glancing at them and laying them aside. Face is very unexpressive, almost stoic. Looks through pictures carefully, nodding as she lays each one aside.)
Mrs. Dalrymple: (finally sitting back, clasping her hands together and nodding) “Well, that’s okay then.
(stands up, crosses to cordless phone, picks phone up and sits in rocking chair as she dials)
Mrs. Dalrymple: (after a pause) “Becca? … Darling, I have the most wonderful news. I’ve been burgled! … Yes, burgled and very neatly too. And they even left my wedding rings – not that that matters, you know. … No, absolutely every piece, isn’t it fantastic? … Well, I suppose I’ll have to call the police, naturally, but I wonder if I should dust first? I can’t wait for Janet, of course, she won’t be in until tomorrow and that would be a little late, I think. … No? Well, let’s hope they used gloves. I’d certainly hate for them to be caught – I might get it all back and that would be disastrous. … Well, you could come over and look after me, if you would – I’m sure I should be quite distraught. I mean, that is the proper reaction, isn’t it? After all, I wouldn’t want them to think I had done it! … Oh, good. Then we’ll tell them that you came home with me – much better that way. … Ta ta then, I’ll see you in a few minutes. When you get here, we’ll call the police – and my insurance company, of course. I’ll put on some tea. … No? I suppose you’re right, they would prefer coffee then.”
(hangs up phone looking pleased with herself, main stage fades to black)
Burglar: “Well, I did think she had better taste. Nice to know I’m right.”
(stage right fades to black)
Act 3, Scene 4: later that evening
(as lights come up, Mrs. Dalrymple is crossing from the door to a table where a poker game is in progress. At the table are two younger people – similar age, Clarisse and Bobby – fraternal twins – and Mrs.’Becca Gruder, another older woman of the same vintage as Mrs. Dalrymple. Having just entered are a middle-aged man and woman, both seem a bit annoyed and a bit distant with each other, standing somewhat apart.)
(at stage right, our burglar is watching his TV, with some evidence of amusement)
Mrs. Dalrymple: “Becca?” (addressing the older woman at the table) “You remember my son, Jason? And my daughter, Karen?” (turns back to the referenced pair) “So convenient that you could both arrive at the same time, dears. Please, have a seat. I believe that Clarisse is about to raise me?” (resumes her seat at the poker table)
Clarisse: (almost petulantly) “How did you know?”
Mrs. Dalrymple: “We’ll talk about ‘tells’ later, honey. I believe your aunt and uncle each have a complaint to make. We may as well let them get along with it. Oh, I’ll see your raise … but we’ll get back to that.”
Bobby: “A tell is when you give something away. That right, isn’t it, Gramma?”
Mrs. Dalrymple: “Quite correct.”
Bobby: (looking pointedly at aunt and uncle) “And Aunt Karen and Uncle Jason have ‘tells’ too, right?”
Mrs. Dalrymple: (nods at Bobby, pleased, then looks at Karen) “So, Karen, would you like to go first?”
Karen: (sharply) “Well, if you want to wash dirty linens in public, then yes. First, I think that it is absolutely criminal of you to let that jewelry get stolen like this. Do you know that they were worth?”
Mrs. Dalrymple: (after a brief pause waiting to be sure that Karen is finished) “Actually, I do know what they’re worth – considering that I’ve been paying for their insurance for all of these years. However, as for ‘dirty linens’, dear, I’m quite sure that I have never encouraged you in that kind of thinking. So, as for your ‘first’ point, I am not the burglar; I have it on very good authority that I am known as the ‘victim’ and, therefore, am quite innocent of any criminal charges. Jeremy? I believe it’s your turn.”
Jeremy: (harrumphs and pulls himself up) “Karen does have a point, Mother. I’ve suggested for years that …”
Mrs. Dalrymple: (interrupting) “You have suggested for years that I should let you sell them – for a percentage – and then distribute the proceeds to you, Karen and Alicia. And, where as Alicia doesn’t care at all, Karen has been equally determined that I should give the jewelry to her; isn’t that right, Karen?”
Karen: “Well, you never wear them and I don’t know why you wouldn’t keep them locked up in a vault where they belong … or, at least, let me do that.”
Mrs. Dalrymple: “Which is precisely why, dear. Precisely why! Lock them in a vault? Really, and why? Who would see them then? Are you suggesting that I should make periodic trips to a bank vault to inspect them? And, no, I don’t wear them – I detest wearing such ostentatious jewelry. They’re quite hideous as jewelry although they are rather amusing as trinkets. No, they were made for another time and, unlike you, I have no desire to live in the past – I’ve been there and it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.”
Mrs. Dalrymple: (continuing, reflectively) “By candlelight, perhaps, they might look rather nice. Actually, they do look well by candlelight as Clarisse and Bobby might tell you. Or, if you try, you might even remember. In any case, that is the era and setting for which they were designed. However, I so rarely go to parties where there are candle chandeliers these days that it really doesn’t matter, does it? So, now that they are gone – and they are gone – perhaps you two can find something else to bicker over?
Jeremy: (seizing the opening) “And now I suppose you’ll collect on the insurance?”
Mrs. Dalrymple: (sharply) “I certainly hope so – I’ve certainly paid them enough over the years. And…” (with a bite) “…before you ask, I will do with the proceeds exactly as I see fit. Now, we’re in the middle of a game. You and Karen are welcome to stay. Or to leave.” (turns her attention back to the table) “Bobby, I believe it’s to you, do you want to see Clarissa’s raise? Or fold?”
(as lights fade on main stage, Bobby tosses in his hand and looks toward Mrs. Gruder, ignoring his Aunt and Uncle.)
Burglar: (raises eyebrow as he/she looks around at the audience) “Most unusual. You know, in this business, it really isn’t customary to expect a satisfied customer.” (pauses) “Well, it’s a pity but I don’t guess there’s any point in asking for a recommendation for my resume …” (slightly longer pause) “Although she’d probably give me one …” (shakes head, amusedly)
(fade to black both sets, curtains remain open)
During interval,
figures in black begin dressing main set.
Act 3, Scene 5: still later that evening
(lights come up slowly on right set, burglar is standing behind easy chair, phone to ear)
Burglar: “…baseball trading cards? Why would I know anything about trading cards? You know I have no interest in sports.” (covers mouthpiece, aside to audience) “Munch again; he’s getting quite tiresome.” (uncovers mouthpiece) “Well I don’t. And you still owe me for the Remington. And not at bargain basement prices either. … Yes, as you say, we’ve had a long relationship.” (covers mouthpiece, aside to audience) “Too long!” (uncovers mouthpiece) “As a matter of fact, I do; jewelry. Rather garish but good stones and precious metals are just precious metals. … No, not until I see a sizeable deposit in my account … Yes, you know the account number; Grand Caymans Bank and Trust … I’ll be expecting it then … No, when I see it. Good bye!” (punches phone off, turns to audience) “See what kind of crap an honest burglar has to put up with? Thinks he (/she) can fob me off with ten cents on the dollar while expecting to get seventy cents in return. And then threats on top of that.” (shakes head as set, fades to black)
During interval, figures in black are dressing both sets.
Intermission