a two-act comedy / interactive murder mystery with multiple endings – script available for producing

Here’s a 90-minute, two-act comedy for six actors (3 m, 3 f) which can be interactive (in the mode of The Mystery of Edwin Drood and Shear Madness), perfect for dinner, community, regional and high school theatres, even Off-Off Broadway. There are five possible endings.

Interested in producing Goodnight, Captain White? I’d love to make it easy for you. Download the script here, and email me at mark dot stevick at gordon dot edu to talk details.

CHARACTERS
Lavinnia Beckford – The Captain’s niece and housekeeper. 40s-60s.
Abigail Knapp – Lavinnia’s daughter, the Captain’s grand niece. 20s-30s.
Frank Knapp – Abigail’s husband, the Captain’s former employee. 20s-30s.
Richard Crowninshield – Dangerous outlaw type. 20s-30s.            
Penelope Muchmore – Amorous harlot type. 20s-30s.                                   
Sen. Daniel Webster – Under cover as hired help; during the play he is mistaken for the manservant, Benjamin, and is wrongly thought to be deaf. 30s-50s. [also briefly plays Captain White – 82-year-old, wealthy sea captain – 2 lines]

SETTING
The library of the Captain’s house in Salem, Massachusetts.

TIME
Spring evening, 1830.

SYNOPSIS
Old, wealthy Captain White throws a party at his seaside mansion to which the citizens of Salem are invited. During the evening, a motley group happens into the library: the Captain’s niece and imperious housekeeper Lavinnia Beckford; her disaffected daughter Abigail Knapp; and Abby’s feckless husband Frank—along with two seeming outsiders, the enterprising Richard Crowninshield and the amorous Penelope Muchmore.

The Captain retires to change his shoes (too much dancing) and never returns to bid goodnight. It quickly becomes clear that the five in the library have good reason to resent the old man and are busily scheming to acquire his fabulous estate. The Captain must die intestate (without a will).

The five machinate with increasing agitation under the anxious eye of a sham serving man—who is really a detective in a clumsy disguise (doubles Captain White). When, at the end of Act One, the Captain is murdered, the serving man reveals himself to be Massachusetts Senator Daniel Webster (replete with whiskey). Webster appoints an audience member as deputy; then he and the audience reconstruct the suspects’ movements and assess their motives. The final outcome of the play (there are five possible endings) can be determined by the audience’s vote.

The play may also be performed without audience involvement, using the ending of the director’s choice.

A HISTORICAL NOTE
Goodnight, Captain White was inspired by a notorious murder that occurred in Salem on April 6, 1830. All of the characters in this script were players in the events surrounding that murder, though not as portrayed here. Daniel Webster, for example, U.S. Congressman and noted orator, was the prosecuting attorney during the trial of the Knapp and Crowninshield brothers.

Thanks to Karin Coonrod for commissioning this piece for Compagnia de’ Colombari productions in Italy and NYC, and to John Sarrouf for suggesting I extend my original cutting.

REVIEWS
“An ideal production for a dinner theatre” (Essex County Newspapers); “a provocative script…dialogue with the tone of a Gilbert & Sullivan operetta” (Lowell Sun); “A hysterical whodunit…both comical and personal” (Salem News); “Quick-witted, playful…a brilliant script” (Weekender); “a spritely murder mystery…dashedly clever” (Georgetown Record); “A zany who-done-it…it captivates you” (Eagle Tribune); “a tour de force…a fun worthwhile evening out” (Daily News of Newburyport); “Rich with innuendo…relies on a talented cast for improv and audience interaction…a night of good fun” (Destination Salem)

EXCERPT

Here’s the beginning of scene two, just after the murder has been discovered by Senator Webster (who has been confused as the Benjamin, the servingman). Webster drafts an audience member to serve as his deputy.

SCENE TWO

(continuous action from SCENE ONE)

LAVINNIA, FRANK & ABIGAIL are at the chaise; PENNY in one chair; RICHARD at the other chair. ALL are making a great deal of noise.

WEBSTER. I… I… I wish to be heard!

LAVINNIA. Who are you, you foolish man?

WEBSTER. Foolish man, that’s good, and fair enough thanks to this get-up, I am Senator Daniel Webster of Marshfield—

PENNY. Senator?

WEBSTER. That’s right, Senator Daniel Webster, masquerading here tonight as a simple serving man—thus the outfit—in order to observe the comings and goings of the guests.

PENNY. Your serving man is a Senator?—that is rich.

WEBSTER. Not the serving man in fact—

RICHARD. (shouting) YOU’RE NOT BENJAMIN THE DEAF MANSERVANT?

WEBSTER. NO!

PENNY. So you can hear us then?

WEBSTER. Quite well, actually.

RICHARD. Very clever, pretending to be deaf the whole time.

PENNY. (alarmed) Yes, ooo, he might have overheard anything, how—provocative!

WEBSTER. I had no intention of pretending to be deaf.

LAVINNIA. So this man is blind, then?

WEBSTER. HOLD IT!

ABIGAIL. Could you please sort this out for us, we’re fairly confused because, apparently, we’ve got a murder on our hands.

WEBSTER. Yes, at last.

LAVINNIA. Dear Captain White! (Sobs)

PENNY. (Weeps)

ABIGAIL. Oh Uncle! (Sobs)

FRANK. (Weeps)

(WEBSTER, having looked at each in turn, looks at RICHARD amid the din of lamentation)

RICHARD. (shouting above the noise) BET YOU WISH YOU WERE DEAF NOW, EH?

WEBSTER. All right! Now hear me—I understand this is a delicate moment, but there’s been foul play here and I intend to get to the bottom of it. Let me spell this out for you. As I said a moment ago, the Honorable Captain Joseph White lies dead in his bedroom above us, the apparent victim of a cold-blooded murder. The coroner has been sent for, and for the moment I’m placing everyone under house arrest.

SUSPECTS. House arrest?

LAVINNIA. What do you mean? Arrest the house?

WEBSTER. That’s very literal, but in a manner of speaking, yes. I mean no one may leave the premises without my authorization.

ABIGAIL. Surely an elderly relative of the deceased might retire to another venue—

WEBSTER. Not likely, Pikely.

ABIGAIL. Don’t call me “Pikely”.

LAVINNIA. Don’t call me “elderly”.

WEBSTER & ABIGAIL. Sorry—

WEBSTER. —as a matter of fact, by the end of the evening I expect one or more individuals here will retire to a venue bordered by bars and known as a jail cell!

LAVINNIA. How very gauche.

FRANK. One of us?

WEBSTER. All five of you, possibly.

SUSPECTS. Well!

WEBSTER. And gauche or no, I’m confining each of you to this overstuffed room until I’ve had a chance to question you individually.

LAVINNIA. Oh!—overstuffed!

FRANK. Question us?

WEBSTER. Yes.

ABIGAIL. About what?

PENNY. Yes, about what, and when do you start spelling?

WEBSTER. …

FRANK. Oh, you said you were going to spell out—

WEBSTER. I got it.

PENNY. I’m looking forward to the spelling. …S-P-L…

WEBSTER. I don’t know what to say to that.

RICHARD. Why don’t you tell us why you’re here, “Senator-Webster-disguised-as-Simple-Simon.”

ABIGAIL. It’s most curious.

WEBSTER. I expected you’d want to know that, and that’s why I have an answer for you. In brief, two days ago I received an urgent post from the late Captain’s solicitor—(SUSPECTS sniffle)—courage!—stating that the Captain’s last will and testament had been stolen from the Asiatic Bank.

SUSPECTS. Stolen from the Asiatic Bank!

WEBSTER. That’s right, Asiatic: A-S-Z-… Stolen. S-T-O-L-E-N; let the spelling begin. I continue: as the Captain is—was—(SUSPECTS sniffle)—courage—both rich and ruthless, he was no doubt the subject of a vicious scheme to pilfer his worldly assets.

PENNY. Worldly “assets”?

WEBSTER. … “Worldly assets.” I do not think that means what you think it means. I resume: whoever stole the Captain’s will plans to steal his estate. And I believe that someone (or someones) may be here tonight, hoping to machinate unobserved.

FRANK. Machinate?

WEBSTER. Machinate: M-A-S-H… Plot: p-l-o-t. I rally: and that’s why I’m here. To keep watch, because without a will a man’s fortune and his future are at considerable risk.

ABIGAIL. Is that so?

WEBSTER. It is. I like to say “Where there’s a will there’s a way; and where there’s none, there’s a war.” (HE enjoys his remark)

ABIGAIL. Brilliant.

RICHARD. Clear as mud.

FRANK. Huh?

PENNY. Ooo!

LAVINNIA. Balderdash and complete rubbish. Deaf or no, this is hardly a time for mangling perfectly good aphorisms—

WEBSTER. Mangling?

LAVINNIA. —nor for displaying your own undernourished wit.

WEBSTER. “Undernourished wit”—that’s a surprising usage—LISTEN LADY!—(SUSPECTS leap up)—just checking, just checking for a pulse. (SUSPECTS resettle) Fairly quick to action, I see, all of you are.

PENNY. Well, can you blame us?—after all, we’re a bit on edge.

WEBSTER. Edge?

ABIGAIL. Emotional, I believe is the point.

WEBSTER. Point?

FRANK. Look, to be blunt—

WEBSTER. Blunt?

LAVINNIA. Cease and desist!

WEBSTER. (Pointing to ceiling) ALREADY BEEN DONE, THANK YOU!

RICHARD. Yes, so you say, Senator. You say that our generous host lies murdered in his own bed. But none of us has seen the corpse—(SUSPECTS sniffle)—courage—and so we only have your word for it. “Murdered.” But is he dead? And just how dead is he? Was he strangled? Smothered? Or might he instead have died of anguished but natural causes, one hand on his foot, say, the other on his heart, gasping like a fish—

WEBSTER. Well done, Mister—Crowninshield, is it?

RICHARD. That’s right.

WEBSTER. I had hoped to catch you on some detail still hidden from view.

RICHARD. Obviously.

WEBSTER. But I see you’re far too slippery for that.

RICHARD. Only when wet. But let me press you further. You said that without a will, the Captain’s fortune and his future were both at stake—

WEBSTER. “Stake”?

RICHARD. “Risk” was the gentler way you put it.

WEBSTER. Kind of you to notice.

RICHARD. Oh, I noticed, too, Senator, that while you were pouring whiskey and passing out macaroons, the Captain was being BRUTALLY MURDERED UNDER YOUR VERY NOSE!

SUSPECTS. OH!

FRANK. He’s right!

ABIGAIL. Horrible!

LAVINNIA. You oaf!

PENNY. He IS undernourished!

WEBSTER. (To LAVINNIA and FRANK) Well, don’t forget, I’m deaf, so I couldn’t really hear anything.

SUSPECTS. Oh, right.

WEBSTER. (to RICHARD) That’s a very irritating remark, Mr. Crowninshield, and I’ll thank you never to make it again!

RICHARD. Touchy.

WEBSTER. No I’m not.

ABIGAIL. Let’s get to it—you have questions, ask them.

WEBSTER. Right you are, thank you. For starters, I’d like to establish who each of you is and why you’re here. Starting with you: what is your name, madam?

PENNY. I thought you’d never ask—my name’s Penelope, but my intimates call me Penny.

WEBSTER. Last name Penelope?

PENNY. No, last name Muchmore.

WEBSTER. “Much more”?

PENNY. Exactly.

WEBSTER. “Penelope Muchmore”—how apropos. Relationship to the Captain?

PENNY. Yes.

WEBSTER. So you knew each other?—I’ll rephrase: you were acquainted with each other?

PENNY. Quite well, Whiskeyman.

WEBSTER. Call me Senator, and what is your business here tonight?

PENNY. Pleasure, and call me Penny.

WEBSTER. This is going swimmingly. (To RICHARD) You, sir, please state your full name.

RICHARD. Richard George Crowninshield, but my intimates call me “Captain Killer.”

LAVINNIA. Oh, I knew it!

WEBSTER. Stay calm, ma’am, he may be the killer. And what is your line of business?

RICHARD. That’s none of yours.

WEBSTER. That’s correct, I’m a senator, and you are?

RICHARD. Not.

WEBSTER. Correct again. Two nothing, you, Mr. Crowninshield, but did you know the Captain?

RICHARD. Only to be a generous and highly principled man, Senator Webster. Beyond that—nothing.

WEBSTER. Well done, Mr. Crowninshield. First round to you, but beware: I’m not left handed. (Tosses pencil behind back off stage left-handedly; then, to ABIGAIL) As for you Miss—

ABIGAIL. Mrs. Knapp.

WEBSTER. Beg pardon, Mrs.—

ABIGAIL. Abigail Knapp. Grand niece to the Captain. My mother; my husband, Frank.

WEBSTER. (to FRANK & LAVINNIA) A pleasure. (to ABIGAIL) Where do you reside, Mrs. Knapp?

FRANK. We live in Wenham—

(WEBSTER silences/slightly strangles FRANK using The Force, à la Obi-Wan.)

WEBSTER. (to ABIGAIL) You were saying?

ABIGAIL. I wasn’t.

WEBSTER. Correct as usual—I see you have a keen intellect.

ABIGAIL. Only compared with some.

WEBSTER. I may take offense at that remark, but first, do you live here?

ABIGAIL. I live in Wenham.

WEBSTER. Yes—with mommy and hubby?

ABIGAIL. Only with my husband, Senator. Where I can devote myself entirely to him.

WEBSTER. That’s a seemingly inconsequential remark, Mrs. Knapp; I may choose to ignore it. (to FRANK) You sir, Mr. Frank Knapp.

FRANK. Yes, and I apologize.

WEBSTER. For murdering the Captain?

FRANK. No!

WEBSTER. You don’t apologize for murdering the Captain?

FRANK. No no!

WEBSTER. You must bear him a great grudge to be so unrepentant.

FRANK. Well I, I—

WEBSTER. And don’t think I didn’t notice you just said “I” twice in a row.

FRANK. I—

WEBSTER. And that’s three, Franky! Which brings me to you, Mum.

LAVINNIA. I don’t see that it does.

WEBSTER. I bet you don’t see a lot of things.

LAVINNIA. I don’t see why you should see that.

WEBSTER. And I don’t see why you don’t see the reason I should see it!

LAVINNIA. Oh!

WEBSTER. Heh heh. So let me ask you: what is your name and relationship—

LAVINNIA. I am Lavinnia White Beckford. I am the Captain’s only niece.

WEBSTER. And why are you here?

LAVINNIA. My thoughts exactly. I should be resting my poor astonished heart elsewhere.

WEBSTER. Interesting that you should say “heart”—what I’m asking is did you float in like Moses, or—

LAVINNIA. This is my home.

WEBSTER. This is your home?

LAVINNIA. Yes, I reside here. Here is where I reside. Your powers of observation are sadly deficient. I happen to be the mistress of this house.

WEBSTER. (Looking at PENNY) The “mistress”—oh, I thought that position was taken—

PENNY. It is. She’s the housekeeper.

WEBSTER. The housekeeper?

LAVINNIA. The housekeeper, yes.

WEBSTER. Very well. I’ll be questioning you all in greater detail shortly, after the coroner has examined the body. So don’t drink heavily. Call me crazy but I have a sneaking suspicion that the solution to the Captain’s murder is to be found in this very room.

SUSPECTS. YOU’RE CRAZY!

WEBSTER. That’s irritating. Now: I need to speak with the other guests as well, so I’ll need someone to keep an eye on things here while I’m gone—someone imminently reliable, with a trustworthy face and a confidence-inspiring manner. Someone like—(to some guy in audience)—you, sir. What is your name?

(WEBSTER gets name and ad libs with new DEPUTY.)

WEBSTER. [Some Dude], I’m hereby commissioning you as Deputy [Some Dude] of Essex County; congratulations. Deputy, your assignment today is a sober one—sober, Deputy?—and that is to ensure that these five suspects don’t conspire to escape or to molest moi. And beware that they do not entice you into any inappropriate behavior, Deputy.

PENNY. Define “inappropriate.”

WEBSTER. (to DEPUTY) See what I mean, Deputy? Can you define it? Can you spell it?

PENNY. (to DEPUTY) Don’t I know you?

WEBSTER. She “knows” you, Deputy?

PENNY. (ad lib)

WEBSTER. Oh good: find a Penny, pick her up, eh, Deputy? Now while Deputy [Some Dude] keeps an eye on Penny, I’d like to talk with any of the rest of you who may have seen or heard something which might help me solve this crime. Incidentally, I’ve also prepared a tasty selection of bon-bons which you may wish to sample in the parlor as well. None for the Deputy; he’s working. On saving his marriage, ammi right, Mrs. D? (to audience) So, we’ll take an intermission [fade up intermission music] while the Coroner does his business, eat some bon-bons, and if you’ve witnessed anything fishy tonight, please let me know.

(MUSIC begins to swell)

PENNY. Oh, Senator?

(MUSIC dips)

WEBSTER. Yes?

PENNY. I was just hoping I might sample your bon-bons myself…

WEBSTER. Tickle me with a tuna, an innuendo from the escort! Get to work, Deputy (MUSIC swells), that’s the kind of behavior I’m talking about!…

(The SUSPECTS begin exhorting the DEPUTY for this or that, as the light FADE and the MUSIC peaks.)

END OF ACT ONE

(The actors may remain onstage during intermission, and may interact with audience members. They will get a break during the one-on-one interrogations upcoming.)

                 

available script two-act play interactive murder mystery 90-minute play 6 actors one set community theatre regional theatre dinner theatre high school productions hilarious comedy history mystery multiple endings community theater dinner theater regional theater