The Chauffeur, The Mistress, And The Detective | Teen Ink

The Chauffeur, The Mistress, And The Detective

January 5, 2021
By NorthernRedneck BRONZE, Franklin, Wisconsin
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NorthernRedneck BRONZE, Franklin, Wisconsin
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Favorite Quote:
Welcome To The Drop Zone
-Colt Ford


Scene One
Opens in Library. Books on a shelf on a wall in stage-center. A couch sits to stage-left with a lamp and a wooden side table next to it. A brick fireplace sits on stage-right. A candlestick, vase of flowers, and a mirror sitting on top of the fireplace mantel. Orange lighting illuminates from the fireplace and a speaker makes crackling noises from the fireplace. A door frame extends out from beside the fireplace. The room is dimly light. Man in suit lays in the center of the ‘room’ dead.

NATASHA: So, one man dead, a missing wife, and no explanation. And then, there’s you two. Would you mind explaining to me why you two were here?
FRANCESCA: Um… Well… I was here too, um, get coffee with his wife {motions to MAXWELL on the floor}
NATASHA: Mmhmm, and how about you slick?
WAYNE: I’m his driver. He called me an hour ago to pick him up immediately. Now that I think about it, he sounded pretty panicked. If I may ask, how was he murdered?
NATASHA: Mr. Wilson here was stabbed a single time in the back. And you say he was panicked?
FRANCESCA: Looks like he was literally stabbed in the back. I’m sorry, I am not used to death.

Walk over to the mantel on the fireplace and slide three fingers along the mantel and look into the mirror at the others in the room.

WAYNE: Yeah. I’m not sure why, but when I showed up here, you and this other lady were already here and Maxwell was dead. I’m not quite sure why I am a suspect.
NATASHA: Because you showed up. Now, back to you {turns to FRANCESCA}
FRANCESCA: What? I was just here to go get coffee with his wife. When I showed up, there was a commotion in the house. I went back to my place and sat in my kitchen. I debated on what to do.
NATASHA: You went back to your house? Did you call the police? Did you call anybody?
FRANCESCA: Um… No, I didn’t.
NATASHA: And why not?
FRANCESCA: I didn’t think to.
NATASHA: I see. And you {Turns to WAYNE} have you ever seen this woman in your life?
WAYNE: You know, now that I think about it, I haven’t. *GASP* Do you think that {whisper} she’s the murderer?
NATASHA: {Into a walkie-talkie} I think we have our person. Bring the boys in.

Three men in rain jackets reading L.A. POLICE walk into the room from stage-right and put FRANCESCA into cuffs and escort her out through the door on stage-right. NATASHA starts to walk out of the room and turns to WAYNE.

NATASHA: I’m going to need you to come down to the station for the questioning. Feel free to follow us in your car.
WAYNE: Okay, let me just tie my shoe before we go.
NATASHA: Alright, see you outside.

NATASHA walks out of the room through stage-right. Stage lights turn to blue to indicate that time is frozen. WAYNE walks over to the couch and pulls out a bloody knife, WAYNE turns to the audience. He holds the knife in front of him, blade up.

WAYNE: No one will ever know. Everything is going to work out for us.

The lights go back to normal. WAYNE gives a devilish smile to the audience and then walks over to the fireplace. WAYNE squats down by the smoldering ashes of the fire and stares into it. After a moment of looking longingly at the fire, WAYNE reaches his hand in and puts the knife down, and kicks some ash over it. Lights fade out and the curtain drops.


Scene Two
The curtain opens on an interrogation room. Concrete block walls are set to the back of stage-center, stage-left, and stage-right. A one-way mirror stands in the middle of the two sides of the two side walls. A reinforced steel door sits on either side of the glass. NATASHA and FRANCESCA sit at a metal table on the right side of the glass. WAYNE and two officers in L.A.P.D. uniforms stood on the left side of the glass.

NATASHA: So, you say you were close to Mr. Wilson’s wife. How close were you two?
FRANCESCA: Her and I were very close. We went out to get cocktails at Hilton bar weekly.
NATASHA: Oh, is that so? Because we can’t seem to find her. Or any record of her.
FRANCESCA: {Darting her eyes back and forth nervously} I swear she’s real. Ask him! {FRANCESCA points towards the two-way mirror} If he was really their driver, he would know.
NATASHA: Wayne, is this true? Mr. Wilson was married with no records?
WAYNE: {Pushes the intercom button on the wall} There was no wife. Just the women he’d hire to hang off of him at parties and social gatherings. From what I gathered, she liked to stay at his place after events. Play wife. Or play mistress. I wasn’t in the house very long any time I was in there. He’d usually ask me to come in when he was in his study to alert him that I was there to pick him up. He can’t hear the doorbell in the study. He designed the house this way, you know.
NATASHA: Wait, if you don’t go into his house unless Mr. Wilson tells you to, why were you in there tonight?

NATASHA shifts in her chair a bit to be able to see both FRANCESCA and WAYNE in the two-way mirror.

WAYNE: {Pushes the intercom button on the wall} When I showed up, there were cop cars, forensic scientists, and a coroner. What was I supposed to do? Either my paycheck was now dead, or going to jail. I had to figure out how badly I needed to find a new job. The chauffeuring business ain’t easy you know.
NATASHA: I see. {She pauses a moment to think about the evidence} At this moment Wayne, you aren’t in any sort of trouble. With that being said, I don’t want you to leave the state until this is all said and done. But you are free to go.
WAYNE: I understand.

Stage lights turn to blue again as the set is pulled back into the stage and WAYNE walks towards the audience. Time is frozen.

WAYNE: Looks like we are in the clear. Now I just have to let the trial happen, and everything to go back to normal.

The set is brought back forward, and the lights turn back to normal. WAYNE walks out of the room through the door on the back wall of stage-left. NATASHA shifts back to face FRANCESCA.

NATASHA: Looks like we have our murderer. I gotta ask you. Why did you do it? Money? Did he hurt you?
FRANCESCA: No. No. NO! I did kill Mr. Wilson. He was like family to me.
NATASHA: That’s what they all say. You’re going to be put away for a long time for this. We might be able to work something out if you just cooperate with us.
FRANCESCA: How can I cooperate with you when I didn’t do anything!
NATASHA: {Stands up and taps on the one-way glass} Get her out of my sight!

Two uniformed L.A. Police Officers enter the room and escort FRANCESCA out. NATASHA sits back in her chair. She puts her elbows on the steel table in front of her and lays her head in her hands.

NATASHA: This never gets easier.

Curtain lowers and the scene ends. Act one is over. Intermission starts.



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