OLD TOM: And when you do eventually make the tea, Trench – try to make sure there isn’t a tiny black box already in the tea-pot.
TRENCH: Yes, Old Tom.
OLD TOM: Now, let’s look at the rather puzzling questions this strange mystery is asking us: What do the clues mean? Why were the clues found from people we have previously been concerned with? And how did the Black Box know Sally-Anne was coming home on the five o’clock train?
TRENCH: With all the rushing about I’ve been doing, I haven’t had time to think. But yes, a pattern does seem to be forming…
BLACK BOX: Take me to the Stokeham Empire before twelve noon to discover your third clue.
OLD TOM: Well, at least, that gives you plenty of time to drink your tea, once you’ve made it – of course.
TRENCH: Yes, Old Tom. But after that, it’ll be a case of: Here we go again!
(A longer piece of mystery music indicates the end of Act One.)
ACT TWO
(SALLY-ANNE and TRENCH are walking quickly through the streets of Stokeham.)
SALLY-ANNE: Oh Trench, why do you have to drag me along too?
TRENCH: Come on, Sally-Anne – you know Darnia Storm is back in town to perform extra dates of her Play.
SALLY-ANNE: So?
TRENCH: So – I need you for protection.
SALLY-ANNE: You need me for protection? She was after me as well, you know.
TRENCH: Yes well, I believe in safety in numbers. The Stokeham Empire, we’re here.
SALLY-ANNE: I expect your Black Box buddy will be pleased.
TRENCH: Are you pleased, Black Boxy? (There’s no response.) I’m afraid he’s incommunicado at the moment.
SALLY-ANNE: The stage door is open…
TRENCH: I assume Darnia is no longer troubled by the stalker.
SALLY-ANNE: So she won’t be as concerned about security. Shall we go inside?
TRENCH: That is the general idea.
(TRENCH and SALLY-ANNE enter the theatre.)
TRENCH: See that big star on the dressing room door?
SALLY-ANNE: Yes.
TRENCH: And the legend Darnia Storm bedazzled across it?
SALLY-ANNE: Yes.
TRENCH: This must be Ms Storm’s dressing room.
SALLY-ANNE: Your powers of deduction are truly amazing, Holmes!
(One of them knocks.)
DARNIA: Enter, please.
TRENCH: Ever get the sense of deja-vu?
SALLY-ANNE: Unfortunately, yes.
(They enter the dressing room.)
DARNIA: Trench and the beautiful Sally-Anne, how wonderful to see you again.
TRENCH: Likewise. Err, Darnia can I ask why you are wearing just a black Basque with matching stockings and suspenders?
DARNIA: Dress rehearsal darling, dress rehearsal. Do you think I look supremely sexy in an utterly sexy sort of way?
TRENCH: Err…
SALLY-ANNE: You are an attractive woman, Darnia.
DARNIA: Ooh, come here and say that, Sally.
SALLY-ANNE: What about your husband?
DARNIA: Oh, don’t worry about him. I’ve split from that creep for good. Come closer, Sally.
SALLY-ANNE: What about Trench?
DARNIA: He can watch… or join in. Ménage-a-trios’. I adore threesomes…
(TRENCH coughs.)
DARNIA: Come on, Sally-Anne, let’s just do it. You can decide whether you like it or not afterwards – but I guarantee you’ll love it. You might get something out of it too, Trench.
TRENCH: I’m sure I would.
(The BLACK BOX whirrs into life.)
DARNIA: What the..? How kinky.
BLACK BOX: The third clue: Suspenders are found with suspense. You have ninety seconds remaining.
DARNIA: Excuse me, it takes me longer than that!
SALLY-ANNE: Suspenders, suspense? I don’t get it.
DARNIA: You will though, darling.
TRENCH: Suspenders… found – of course! Darnia, where are your drawers?
DARNIA: You’re staring at them, gorgeous.
TRENCH: No, where do you keep your smalls, suspenders – that type of thing?
DARNIA: To please some sort of perversion?
BLACK BOX: Twenty seconds remaining.
SALLY-ANNE: Quick Darnia, tell him – it’s important.
DARNIA: Oh very well, over there in that drawer.
(TRENCH firmly opens the drawer and has a good rummage.)
DARNIA: I’ve seen it all now.
TRENCH: Found it!
DARNIA: I’m sure you have.
SALLY-ANNE: Squeeze it.
DARNIA: Pardon?
TRENCH: The tiny box opens… to reveal a screwed-up newspaper.
SALLY-ANNE: Drop it.
TRENCH: I have.
BLACK BOX: One second remaining.
(We hear the paper vanish in a puff of flames and smoke.)
TRENCH: I’d better put it out.
(TRENCH stamps on the small fire.)
DARNIA: You know how to dampen a girl’s flame of passion, don’t you?
(Seductive music with irony closes this scene.)
(TRENCH and SALLY-ANNE are walking through the offices of the Stokeham Herald.)
SALLY-ANNE: That was a close escape.
TRENCH: From the clue or Darnia?
SALLY-ANNE: Both!
TRENCH: I wonder what project Madam Darnia Storm will grace her presence with next? Maybe a film?
SALLY-ANNE: Yeah like, ‘Revenge of the Rampant Nymphomaniac’.
(They both laugh as they walk into their office, but abruptly stop laughing when they see DOMINIC there.)
DOMINIC: What’s so amusing?
TRENCH: Well, by the time we explained, Dominic…
SALLY-ANNE: … it wouldn’t be funny anymore. It’s known as comic timing, dear ‘colleague’.
DOMINIC: So you’re not going to tell me – fine. Can I ask this though, while I’ve been working hard on my car parking article and on three other topics, what have you two been working on all morning?
SALLY-ANNE: It’s known as a story, Dominic. You know some of us do something called investigative journalism in the real world.
TRENCH: And not sat on our backsides in a cosy little office.
SALLY-ANNE: At the moment though, it’s a cramped little office with three of us in it.
DOMINIC: Well, what is this supposedly big story and, Trench, why are you still carrying that ridiculous Black Box around with you?
SALLY-ANNE: Ever been to Charm School, Dominic? Was it closed?
TRENCH: Good one, Sally-Anne. Dominic, you don’t need to concern yourself with things you won’t understand. And don’t call my Black Box ridiculous, you’ll hurt his feelings!
DOMINIC: You know what I think? I think you’ve both been doing precisely nothing this morning. You probably woke up late – together.
SALLY-ANNE: How dare you.
DOMINIC: And all this secret story nonsense is a pathetic excuse to cover your tracks. I’ll be glad when Editor Law does sell this place. Perhaps then, the new boss will sort you two out.
SALLY-ANNE: I don’t think so, Dominic. Remember, we are the experienced professionals and you are the office junior.
TRENCH: Another good one. You’re on form today, Sall.
(A figure pops in the office.)
EDITOR LAW: Everything all right?
DOMINIC: Err yes, we were just having a… creative discussion, that’s all.
EDITOR LAW: Trench, Sally-Anne – I want you in my office, now.
TRENCH: Righto.
SALLY-ANNE: Don’t work too hard, Dominic.
(TRENCH and SALLY-ANNE follow EDITOR LAW into his office and close the door.)
EDITOR LAW: Sit down.
(They sit down.)
EDITOR LAW: You’ve probably heard the rumours flying around but now it’s all sorted, I want you two to be the first to know. I will inform the rest of the staff later today.
TRENCH: (Asks tentatively
:) Are you selling up?
EDITOR LAW: Yes, I am selling the newspaper to a businessman, Max Sterling. You may have seen me having a meeting with him yesterday.
TRENCH: Bald headed guy in a suit?
EDITOR LAW: A crude but accurate description, Trench.
TRENCH: So, is this the end?
EDITOR LAW: Oh no, not at all – don’t worry about that. Max Sterling has given me his personal assurance that nothing will really change here at the Stokeham Herald.
SALLY-ANNE: If nothing’s going to change, why’s he bothering taking over then?
EDITOR LAW: Because, Sally-Anne, he’s a businessman. Whatever else this Paper is, it makes money. Max respects and recognises that.
TRENCH: What about our jobs though?
EDITOR LAW: I told you, relax. Max has given his assurances that both your jobs are safe. Even I’m going to stay on as part-time editor but alas, I will have slightly more time for golf. The appropriate legally binding contracts will be drawn up ready for me to sign the Paper over tomorrow – at noon.
SALLY-ANNE: It’s very kind of you, Editor Law, but you don’t have to worry about me. I resign.
EDITOR LAW: Sorry?
TRENCH: Listen Sally, if it’s because I made you see Darnia, then I’m sorry.
SALLY-ANNE: No, it’s nothing to do with that; this take-over or even the delightful Dominic. I am leaving to live with Jonathan – in London.
TRENCH: (Says almost dumbstruck:) Oh.
SALLY-ANNE: Come on Trenchy, I was going to tell you when we were alone but suddenly, now seemed as good as time as ever.
TRENCH: When are you leaving?
SALLY-ANNE: Don’t worry – not right now. I’ll be around for a few more days yet.
EDITOR LAW: Well, thank-you for telling me, Sally-Anne. I’ll inform Max that you, at least, will not be joining the new regime.
(Melancholy music moves a little bit of time on.)
(TRENCH and SALLY-ANNE are back in their office.)
TRENCH: I wonder where golden boy is?
SALLY-ANNE: Dominic? He’s probably powdering his nose or something.
TRENCH: Yes, well we do know he never seems to leave the building.
SALLY-ANNE: If he did, he’d probably shrivel up and die in the fresh air. What a wonderful thought!
TRENCH: You know Dominic lied, don’t you?
SALLY-ANNE: Do I?
TRENCH: Dominic previously claimed that Editor Law has told him of his intention to sell, when Law suggested he had told us two first.
SALLY-ANNE: He was probably lying to try and impress and sound superior. Adding two and two…
TRENCH: … and making four on this occasion. Dominic was right, though. Mind you, he most likely gleaned his information from the rumour mill.
BLACK BOX: Take me to Gordon’s DIY on the high street before fifteen hundred hours to discover your fifth clue.
SALLY-ANNE: Fifth clue? What about the fourth clue?
TRENCH: Well, either the Black Box has missed it out for a reason, or he can’t count! Either way, we’d better be going – I don’t want to be on the last second, for a change.
SALLY-ANNE: Trench, would you be offended if I don’t come with you on this occasion? I’m feeling tired all of a sudden.
TRENCH: Are you all right?
SALLY-ANNE: Fine – probably still recovering from dodging Darnia’s clutches! And, in any case, one of us had better get back to some mundane office work. Dominic’s complaining enough as it is.
TRENCH: All right, I’ll be off, (he suddenly takes-off Darnia:) darling.
(With a slight SALLY-ANNE giggle, TRENCH leaves the office and walks down the corridor.)
MAX: It’s Trench, isn’t it? Pleased to meet you at last.
TRENCH: Max Sterling, an unexpected… err encounter.
MAX: I’m just over here to chew a few things over with your editor ahead of tomorrow’s ‘seal the deal’.
TRENCH: And what plans do you have for the Stokeham Herald, Mr Sterling?
MAX: Max, please.
TRENCH: Max, then. This humble Paper has built a reputation for sometimes biting journalism in its forty odd year lifetime.
MAX: Oh, I have big plans for this Paper.
TRENCH: Really?
MAX: But don’t look so concerned. They’ll always be a position for you here, Trench.
(DOMINIC walks up to them in the corridor and stops.)
DOMINIC: It’s an honour to meet you, sir.
(DOMINIC shakes MAX very warmly by the hand.)
MAX: Ditto Dominic. You may stop shaking my hand now.
DOMINIC: Oh, sorry.
MAX: Watch this bright young lad, Trench. His recent story on local car-parking problems was inspiring stuff. More, please.
DOMINIC: Thank-you, sir.
MAX: Don’t you agree, Trench?
TRENCH: Oh yes, absolutely. In my journalistic experience, I find car parking up most people’s street!
(Quirky music changes the scene.)
(We hear the door chime as TRENCH enters Gordon’s DIY and walks to the counter.)
TRENCH: Gordon, it’s me Trench – how are you doing?
GORDON: I’m fine – we’re fine.
TRENCH: Where is Vicky?
GORDON: Studying hard at university. She’ll be a legal eagle very soon. You’re not checking up on me, are you Trench?
TRENCH: Oh no, no, no. I’ve come in here to buy something actually.
GORDON: That’s good – most people do. Is it something I can help you with or do you just want to browse?
TRENCH: I’m looking for a black box.
GORDON: Are you sure you want a black box? You see, Trench, you seem to be carrying one under your arm.
TRENCH: Oh, not that one, Gordon. I’m looking for a very small black box – about so big.
BLACK BOX: The fifth clue: It is cocktail hour at the hardware store. You have ninety seconds remaining.
GORDON: It speaks!
TRENCH: (Who whispers loudly to GORDON:) Attention seeker – take no notice, you’ll only encourage him.
GORDON: Back to tiny black boxes, I’m pretty sure we don’t stock them – and I can’t think who would…
GORDON: Vicky enjoys a cocktail occasionally, did you know?
TRENCH: Of course, that’s it – a cocktail. What does your wife normally drink?
GORDON: Hmm, let me see.
TRENCH: Quick, quick.
GORDON: Sometimes a Blue Lagoon… sometimes a screwdriver…
BLACK BOX: You have twenty seconds remaining.
TRENCH: Screwdrivers, that’s the things – where are they?
GORDON: Over there.
(TRENCH dashes to the screwdriver display.)
TRENCH: Excuse me madam, I have to get to that shelf.
SHOPPER: Well, really!
(TRENCH starts pulling the screwdrivers off the shelves, frantically searching.)
TRENCH: It must be on one of these shelves somewhere. Ah, there it is – the mini black box. Time to squeeze… A man… Some kind of model traffic warden, I think.
BLACK BOX: One second remaining.
(TRENCH drops the model and it disintegrates in a puff of smoke.)
GORDON: I say, what’s been happening here?
(Intriguing music ends the scene.)
OLD TOM: More tea, Trench? There’s plenty left in the pot.
TRENCH: Don’t mind if I do.
OLD TOM: I’ll pour.
(OLD TOM pours the tea.)
TRENCH: Can I ask you one thing, Old Tom? Why is there a tea cosy on the teapot?
OLD TOM: To keep the tea cold.
TRENCH: Ask a stupid question.
OLD TOM: Then I’ll ask a sensible one: Who placed the clues in their diverse locations – and how?
TRENCH: Good question – and the clues themselves: Black sheep, sports car, crumpled-up paper and a traffic warden… Baffling, a
ren’t they?
OLD TOM: But there must be a connection… And what happened to the mysteriously missing fourth clue?
TRENCH: And if that isn’t enough – Sally-Anne has resigned to live with her boyfriend in London and Editor Law is signing over his newspaper to Max Sterling tomorrow at noon.
OLD TOM: It’s all happening! And what about Dominic?
TRENCH: He’s as irritating as ever.
OLD TOM: A Black Box; rushing around for bizarre, nonsensical clues – it’s ridiculous, truly barmy.
TRENCH: Tell me about it, old timer.
OLD TOM: And locating all the clues, has still involved meeting people acquainted from our previous cases.
TRENCH: But why?
OLD TOM: I think that someone is playing a game with us. And if so, what is the purpose of the game? Who are the winners?
TRENCH: And who are the losers..?
(A longer piece of mystery music indicates the end of Act Two.)
ACT THREE
(SALLY-ANNE and TRENCH are in their office.)
SALLY-ANNE: The calm before the storm.
TRENCH: You’re not talking about Darnia again, are you?
SALLY-ANNE: Err no, Trench. I was referring to us being in the office before the dreaded Dominic arrives.
TRENCH: Then let’s leave before he does make an appearance.
SALLY-ANNE: Where to, though? Your Black Box hasn’t said a word yet. Or shall we just wander around aimlessly?
TRENCH: Old Tom said ‘who placed the clues – and how?’ So let’s find out.
SALLY-ANNE: By visiting a previous clue-scene?
TRENCH: Yes, and let’s visit the location that the clue-planter would have most likely been seen – sweet Sawn-Off’s mother’s house.
(Decisive music moves things on.)
(We hear TRENCH knock on the front door. The door opens after a few moments.)
MOTHER: Hello, it’s Cedric’s two young friends – I’m afraid he isn’t in, though. He has returned to his lovely flower shop in London.
SALLY-ANNE: That’s all right, Mrs err..?
MOTHER: Just call me Mother, my son does.
SALLY-ANNE: Mrs err… Mother, we just want a very quick chat with you.
MOTHER: Then you must come inside and this time I will make us all a nice cup of tea.
TRENCH: Err… we’ve just had morning tea… and then will have to investigate yet another story. But that’s another story.
SALLY-ANNE: A local reporter’s work is never done…