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Authors: Anthony Horowitz
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your eyesâ¦
The scalpel is close to STYLERâs eyes. He moans. Then FARQUHAR whisks it away.
I want to know about you.
STYLER: What? What do you want to know?
FARQUHAR: Well, you could tell me what brought you here. Why this interest in psychopaths?
STYLER: I told youâ¦
FARQUHAR: You told me nothing. Oh, you gave me some bullshit about the human condition but thatâs a bit like a crack-head saying he takes cocaine because heâs interested in the social history of Peru.
STYLER: If I tell you what you want to know, youâll let me leave?
FARQUHAR: If you tell me the truth, I might.
STYLER: I donât know. I donât know where to start.
FARQUHAR: How about with your mother?
STYLER: No.
FARQUHAR: Victoria Barlow. That was her name, wasnât it. Now thereâs an interesting thought for you. You said you moved to London. Victoria Station. From one Victoria to another.
STYLER: I lived in Vauxhall. It was close to Victoria.
FARQUHAR: Were you close? You and your mum?
STYLER: Youâre not interested.
FARQUHAR: If I wasnât interested, I wouldnât ask.
STYLER: Yes! We were closeâ¦
FARQUHAR: Victoria Barlow. I seem to remember her. Quite a large woman. Large teeth.
STYLER: Yes.
FARQUHAR: She lived at number twenty-nine. Twenty-nine, Sunflower Court. She was my neighbour. And according to what you were telling me earlier, before you left her for the other Victoria, you lived with her.
STYLER: ( Uneasy .) I was there some of the time.
FARQUHAR: Well, we must have run into each other. There was you living with your mother at number twenty-nine. There was me living with mine next door. You must have seen me.
STYLER: I wasnât there much of the time. I was at boarding-school. And then at university.
FARQUHAR: York University?
STYLER: No.
FARQUHAR: No?
STYLER: No.
FARQUHAR: Why not?
STYLER: I didnât get in.
FARQUHAR: That must have been a disappointment.
STYLER: No. Not really.
FARQUHAR: So where did you go?
STYLER: Torquay.
FARQUHAR: Thereâs a university in Torquay?
STYLER: It wasnât exactly a university. It was more of a college.
FARQUHAR: What was your subject?
STYLER: Catering.
FARQUHAR: Catering.
STYLER: Yes.
FARQUHAR: It was a catering college.
STYLER: Yes.
FARQUHAR: You wanted to cook?
STYLER: No. But it was something to fall back on. A day-jobâ¦
FARQUHAR: While you were waiting to become a writer?
STYLER: Yes.
FARQUHAR: So you were away from home a lot?
STYLER: Most of the time.
FARQUHAR: But not all of it?
STYLER: No.
FARQUHAR: You must have come home to visit your mum?
STYLER: I did.
FARQUHAR: And you never saw me? On the other side of the garden wall?
STYLER: It was a fence. There was a wooden fence, covered in wisteria.
FARQUHAR: Yes. I remember it. ( Realising .) My Motherâs Garden . Did you write about the wisteria?
STYLER: Yes.
FARQUHAR: It was in your book. The wisteria between your garden and mine.
STYLER: I mentioned it.
FARQUHAR: Did your mother have any tips about the wisteria. I mean, it must have been growing pretty well anyway, considering all the nutrients I was putting into the soil.
STYLER: I canât remember.
FARQUHAR: There must have been something.
STYLER: ( Remembering .) Chinese wisteria grows anti-clockwise.
FARQUHAR: Iâm sorry?
STYLER: My mother said thatâs how you tell the difference between Chinese and Japanese wisteria. The stems twine in different directions.
FARQUHAR: Is that it?
STYLER: Thatâs all I can remember.
FARQUHAR: Well, I suppose in its own way thatâs quite remarkable.
STYLER: Yes.
FARQUHAR: She must have been a remarkable woman.
STYLER: She was.
FARQUHAR: And yet you never mentioned her, not after I told you who I was. And here you are, face-to-face with the man who killed her, but I donât sense any hatred. Maybeyouâve forgiven me. You said you were going to forgive me. Have you forgiven me?
A pause. STYLER says
The scalpel is close to STYLERâs eyes. He moans. Then FARQUHAR whisks it away.
I want to know about you.
STYLER: What? What do you want to know?
FARQUHAR: Well, you could tell me what brought you here. Why this interest in psychopaths?
STYLER: I told youâ¦
FARQUHAR: You told me nothing. Oh, you gave me some bullshit about the human condition but thatâs a bit like a crack-head saying he takes cocaine because heâs interested in the social history of Peru.
STYLER: If I tell you what you want to know, youâll let me leave?
FARQUHAR: If you tell me the truth, I might.
STYLER: I donât know. I donât know where to start.
FARQUHAR: How about with your mother?
STYLER: No.
FARQUHAR: Victoria Barlow. That was her name, wasnât it. Now thereâs an interesting thought for you. You said you moved to London. Victoria Station. From one Victoria to another.
STYLER: I lived in Vauxhall. It was close to Victoria.
FARQUHAR: Were you close? You and your mum?
STYLER: Youâre not interested.
FARQUHAR: If I wasnât interested, I wouldnât ask.
STYLER: Yes! We were closeâ¦
FARQUHAR: Victoria Barlow. I seem to remember her. Quite a large woman. Large teeth.
STYLER: Yes.
FARQUHAR: She lived at number twenty-nine. Twenty-nine, Sunflower Court. She was my neighbour. And according to what you were telling me earlier, before you left her for the other Victoria, you lived with her.
STYLER: ( Uneasy .) I was there some of the time.
FARQUHAR: Well, we must have run into each other. There was you living with your mother at number twenty-nine. There was me living with mine next door. You must have seen me.
STYLER: I wasnât there much of the time. I was at boarding-school. And then at university.
FARQUHAR: York University?
STYLER: No.
FARQUHAR: No?
STYLER: No.
FARQUHAR: Why not?
STYLER: I didnât get in.
FARQUHAR: That must have been a disappointment.
STYLER: No. Not really.
FARQUHAR: So where did you go?
STYLER: Torquay.
FARQUHAR: Thereâs a university in Torquay?
STYLER: It wasnât exactly a university. It was more of a college.
FARQUHAR: What was your subject?
STYLER: Catering.
FARQUHAR: Catering.
STYLER: Yes.
FARQUHAR: It was a catering college.
STYLER: Yes.
FARQUHAR: You wanted to cook?
STYLER: No. But it was something to fall back on. A day-jobâ¦
FARQUHAR: While you were waiting to become a writer?
STYLER: Yes.
FARQUHAR: So you were away from home a lot?
STYLER: Most of the time.
FARQUHAR: But not all of it?
STYLER: No.
FARQUHAR: You must have come home to visit your mum?
STYLER: I did.
FARQUHAR: And you never saw me? On the other side of the garden wall?
STYLER: It was a fence. There was a wooden fence, covered in wisteria.
FARQUHAR: Yes. I remember it. ( Realising .) My Motherâs Garden . Did you write about the wisteria?
STYLER: Yes.
FARQUHAR: It was in your book. The wisteria between your garden and mine.
STYLER: I mentioned it.
FARQUHAR: Did your mother have any tips about the wisteria. I mean, it must have been growing pretty well anyway, considering all the nutrients I was putting into the soil.
STYLER: I canât remember.
FARQUHAR: There must have been something.
STYLER: ( Remembering .) Chinese wisteria grows anti-clockwise.
FARQUHAR: Iâm sorry?
STYLER: My mother said thatâs how you tell the difference between Chinese and Japanese wisteria. The stems twine in different directions.
FARQUHAR: Is that it?
STYLER: Thatâs all I can remember.
FARQUHAR: Well, I suppose in its own way thatâs quite remarkable.
STYLER: Yes.
FARQUHAR: She must have been a remarkable woman.
STYLER: She was.
FARQUHAR: And yet you never mentioned her, not after I told you who I was. And here you are, face-to-face with the man who killed her, but I donât sense any hatred. Maybeyouâve forgiven me. You said you were going to forgive me. Have you forgiven me?
A pause. STYLER says
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