La Ratonera – email@example.com – Correo de Consejería de Educación y Empleo
|Los alumnos de 3º ESO bilingüe del IES PARQUE DE MONFRAGÜE de Plasencia, y guiados por su profesora de inglés Belén Álvarez, han realizado una adaptación de la obra de teatro más representada del mundo, La Ratonera, escrita por la Dama del Misterio británica Agatha Christie. En la grabación de la obra, que nació para ser emitida por la radio, han participado también los alumnos de1º de la ESO del instituto, que dirigidos por su profesor de música Víctor Burcio, han aportado la banda sonora a esta producción. También han colaborado dos voces masculinas externas y a los que queremos dar las gracias por esos papeles principales que han interpretado: Gracias Jose y gracias Juan Marcos. Esperamos que disfruten de esta obra y se enganchen a leer más de la autora, Agatha Christie.|
Mollie Ralston – Jara BárcenaGiles Ralston – Juan Marcos ÁlvarezChristopher Wren – Jose Antonio PereiraMrs. Boyle – Laura PintoMajor Metcalf – Pablo BlázquezMiss Casewell – Sofía MartínMr. Paravicini – Danil KosachenkoDetective Sergeant Trotter – Pedro BurgueñoRadio – Sergio Vicente
Narrators – Clara Miguel, Jimena Cantero, Adriana Hernández, Maitane García, Julia Martín, Marta Sánchez y Belén Álvarez.
We are in the Great Hall at Monkswell Manor, a guesthouse. It is late afternoon, almost dark and it’s snowing outside.
We hear a piece of news on the radio.
VOICE ON THE RADIO: … and according to Scotland Yard, the crime took place at twenty-four Culver Street, Paddington. The murdered woman was a Mrs. Maureen Lyon. In connection with the murder, the police are anxious to interview a man seen in the vicinity, wearing a dark overcoat, light scarf, and a soft felt hat.
Mollie enters the hall. She is a tall, young woman with an ingenuous air, in her twenties. She switches off the radio.
After a while, Giles enters the hall too. He is rather arrogant but attractive young man in his twenties. He takes off his overcoat, scarf and hat.
GILES: Got cold feet, have you? Are you sorry now we didn’t sell the place when your aunt left it to you, instead of having this mad idea of running it as a guest house?
MOLLIE: No, I’m not. I love it.
GILES: You’ve got all the rooms worked out?
MOLLIE: Yes. Mrs Boyle, Front Fourposter Room. Major Metcalf, Blue Room. Miss Casewell, East Room. Mr Wren, Oak Room.
GILES: Some of these people may be criminals hiding from the police.
MOLLIE: I don’t care what they are so long as they pay us seven guineas every week.
Giles exits the room. The door bell rings. Christopher Wren enters with a suitcase. He is rather wild-looking neurotic young man. His hair is long and untidy and he wears a woven artistic tie. He has a confiding, almost childish manner.
CHRISTOPHER: Weather is simply awful. My taxi gave up at your gate. Are you Mrs. Ralston? How delightful! My name’s Wren. I don’t believe your husband is going to like. How long have you been married? Are you very much in love?
MOLLIE: We’ve been married just a year. Are you a painter? CHRISTOPHER: No, I’m an architect.
CHRISTOPHER: I’m going to like it here. I find your wife most sympathetic. And really very beautiful.
MOLLIE: Oh, don’t be absurd.
Mollie takes Christopher to see his room. The door bell rings again.
MRS BOYLE: This is Monkswell Manor, I presume? GILES: Yes …
Mrs Boyle enters carrying a suitcase, some magazines and her gloves. She is a large,
imposing woman in a very bad temper.
MRS BOYLE: A Major – Metcalf, is it? – and me had to share a taxi from the station.
Mollie hurries in from the stairs.
MOLLIE: I’m so sorry I …
MRS BOYLE: Mrs Ralston? You’re very young. MOLLIE: Young?
MRS BOYLE: To be running an establishment of this kind. You can’t have had much experience.
MOLLIE: There has to be a beginning for everything, hasn’t there? MRS BOYLE: I see. Quite inexperienced.
Giles and Major Metcalf enter. Major Metcalf is a middle-aged, square-shouldered man, very military in manner and bearing.
GILES: This way, Major. This is my wife.
MAJOR METCALF: How d’you do? Absolute blizzard outside. If it goes on like this I should say you’ll have five or six feet of snow by morning.
Christopher enters the room and Mrs Boyle and Mollie exit up the stairs to show Mrs Boyle her room.
The door bell rings and Miss Casewell enters. She is a young woman of a manly type, and carries a case. She has a long dark coat, a light scarf and no hat. She takes an evening paper from her overcoat pocket and talk about the weather.Christopher starts a conversation with her.
CHRISTOPHER: Any news in the paper – apart from the weather?
MISS CASEWELL: Usual political crisis. Oh yes, and a rather juicy murder! CHRISTOPHER: A murder? Oh, I like murder!
Miss Casewell goes up to her room and after a while, Giles and Mollie are alone in the hall. Christopher is hiding behind the curtains.
MOLLIE: I must hurry out to the kitchen and get on with things. Major Metcalf is very nice. He won’t be difficult. It’s Mrs Boyle really frightens me. We must have a nice dinner.
Christopher comes out from behind the curtains and goes with Mollie to the kitchen to give her a hand. Mollie comes back from the kitchen. The door bell rings and Giles and Mollie are alone in the hall.
MOLLIE: Who can that be?
GILES: Probably the Culver Street murderer. MOLLIE: Don’t!
Mr Paravicini staggers in carrying a small bag. He is foreign and dark and elderly with a rather flamboyant moustache. He is a slightly taller edition of Hercule Poirot. He wears a heavy fur-lined overcoat.
MR PARAVICINI: A thousand pardons. I am – where am I? GILES: This is Monkswell Manor Guest House.
MR PARAVICINI: You can let me have a room – yes?
MOLLIE: It’s rather a small one, I’m afraid.
MR PARAVICINI: Naturally – naturally – you have other guests. I’m the unexpected guest. The guest that you did not invite. The guest who just arrived – from nowhere – out of the storm. Me, I am the man of mystery. Ha, ha, ha. My name, by the way, is Paravicini.
MOLLIE: Oh yes. Ours Ralston.
Major Metcalf is seated on the sofa reading a book and Mrs Boyle is sitting in the large armchair writing on a pad on her knee.
MRS BOYLE: I consider it most dishonest not to have told me they were only just starting this place.
MAJOR METCALF: Well, everything’s got to have a beginning, you know. Excellent breakfast this morning. Good coffee. Scrambled eggs, home-made marmalade.
MRS BOYLE: Amateurs – there should be a proper staff.
Major Metcalf exits to help Giles shovel the snow away from the back door. Miss Casewell enters slowly. After some conversation with Mrs Boyles, she turns on the radio and increases the volume while Mrs Boyles is writing.
MRS BOYLE: Would you mind not having that on quite so loud? MISS CASEWELL: It’s my favourite music.
Mrs Boyle, annoyed, exits to the library. Christopher enters from the library.
CHRISTOPHER: Wherever I go that woman seems to hunt me down. MISS CASEWELL: Turn the radio down a bit. It’s served its purpose. CHRISTOPHER: What purpose?
MISS CASEWELL: She’d pinched the best chair. I’ve got it now.
CHRISTOPHER: You drove her out. I’m glad. I’m very glad. I don’t like her a bit. Let’s think of things we can do to annoy her, shall we? I wish she’g go away from here.
Christopher exits the room. The telephone rings. Mollie answers it. Giles enters the room.
MOLLIE: Giles, the police have just rung up. They are sending an inspector or a sergeant or something.
GILES: What on earth do you think we’ve done? It must be something pretty serious to send a police sergeant trekking out in all this. It must be something really urgent …
All of a sudden, Sergeant Trotter presses his face to the windows and peers in. Sergeant Trotter is on skis and is cheerful, commonplace young man with a slight cockney accent.
Major Metcalf goes to the telephone and dials.
MAJOR METCALF: Hullo! Hullo! … Mrs Ralston, this telephone is dead – quite dead.
Trotter takes out his notebook and wants everybody to be present. Mollie starts asking questions.
MOLLIE: What have we done?
TROTTER: Done? Oh, it’s nothing of that kind, Mrs Ralston. It’s something quite different. It’s more a matter of police protection, if you understand me. It relates to the death of Mrs Lyon, who was murdered yesterday.
MOLLIE: The woman who was strangled?
TROTTER: That’s right, madam. The first thing I want to know is if you were acquainted with this Mrs Lyon. Her real name was Maureen Stanning. Her husband was a farmer, John Stanning, who resided at Longridge Farm not very far from here. The Longridge Farm Case. The Corrigans, two boys and a girl, who were brought before the court as in need of care and protection. A home was found for them with Mr and Mrs Stanning. One of the children subsequently died as a result of criminal neglect and persistent ill- treatment. The Stanning were sentenced to terms of imprisonment. Stanning died in prison. Mrs Stanning served her sentence and was duly released. She was found strangled yesterday.
A notebook was picked up near the scene of the crime. In that notebook was written two addresses. One was twenty-four Culver Street. The other was Monkswell Manor. Superintendent Hogben doesn’t think it is a coincidence, sir. He’d have come himself if it had been in any way possible. Under the weather conditions, and as I can ski, he sent me with instructions to get full particulars of everyone in the house, to report back to him by phone, and to take what measures I thought fit to ensure the safety of the household.
GILES: Safety? He’s not suggesting that somebody is going to be killed here. MOLLIE: Is there something that you haven’t told us, Sergeant?
TROTTER: Yes, Mrs Ralston. Below the two addresses was written “Three Blind Mice”.
And on the dead woman’s body was a paper with “This is the First” written on it. GILES: There were three children and one died? What happened to the other two?
TROTTER: The girl was adopted by someone. The elder boy would be about twenty- two. Deserted from the Army and has not been heard of since. According to the Army psychologist, was definitely schizophrenic. A bit queer in the head, that’s to say.
MOLLIE: They think that it was he who killed Mrs Lyon – Mrs Stanning? TROTTER: Yes.
Trotter makes a tour through the house but can’t report anything to Superintendent
Hogben since the line’s dead. He examines the wire and disappears out of sight. Mrs Boyle comes from the library and is alone in the hall. The radio is at full volume and someone has turned out the light.
Mollie enters the room switches on the lights and crosses to the radio to turn it down. Then she sees Mrs Boyle lying strangled in front of the sofa and screams.