So whodunnit? I’m not telling.
Agatha Christie’s The Mousetrap is still going strong, well into its sixty-fifth year of continuous running, and its forty-third at the St Martin’s Theatre. One of the cornerstones of the West End, proven by its blue plaque and ringing endorsements displayed on the theatre’s exterior, the play unashamedly retains its original 1950s charm – and it is no clearer now than you imagine it would have been to those in attendance on the opening night who the murderer is in the midst of the troubled Monkswell Manor Guest House.
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