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| Daniel Maclise, “The Play Scene in ‘Hamlet’,” 1842. Tate, London. Public domain. |
Find Hamlet first. He lies on the floor at Ophelia’s feet, watching his uncle’s face rather than the actors. Then find the king, Claudius, recoiling as his own crime is played out in front of the whole court.
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“The play’s the thing / Wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the king.”
William Shakespeare, Hamlet, about 1600
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Christie’s story is simpler, and set in her own century. A snowstorm traps a group of strangers in a country guesthouse called Monkswell Manor. The radio brings news of a murder in London. And one of the guests is a killer.
It ran at the Ambassadors for more than twenty-one years. Then, in March 1974, it moved next door to the St Martin’s Theatre, where it still plays tonight. This is its home.
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| The Mousetrap at St Martin’s Theatre, West Street, London, 2006. Public domain. |
The St Martin’s opened in 1916 and seats about 550 people. It is a small house for a giant record.
By 1957, The Mousetrap was already the longest-running straight play in the West End, and the playwright Noël Coward sent Christie a telegram of congratulations. On 12 April 1958, it became the longest-running play in the world. It has held the title ever since.
The numbers keep climbing. By 2022, about ten million people had seen it in London. On 19 March 2025, it gave its 30,000th performance.
Only one thing has ever stopped it. On 16 March 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic closed every theatre in London. The Mousetrap reopened on 17 May 2021, and it is now booking into the summer of 2027.
Every year the cast changes, so hundreds of actors have played these parts. Yet the play itself never changes… and neither does its strangest tradition.
At the end of every performance, the audience is asked not to reveal who did it. In other words, millions of strangers have kept the same secret, on their honour, for more than seventy years.
Here is Christie herself in 1950, two years before the first night, with her second husband, the archaeologist Max Mallowan.
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| Agatha Christie and Max Mallowan at their home, Winterbrook House, 1950. Photographer unknown. National Portrait Gallery, London. |
She made one more unusual decision. Before the play opened, she gave the rights to her grandson, Mathew Prichard, as a present for his ninth birthday. She had no idea what she was giving away.
And in 1956, the producer Peter Saunders sold the film rights with a shrewd condition. No film could be released until six months after the London run ends. So there has never been a film.
The first time I saw it, I was in London for meetings and had one free evening. I was sure I had solved it by the interval. Of course, I had not. Afterwards I walked out into West Street with a dozen strangers, all of us grinning, and none of us saying a word.
For a glimpse behind the scenes, the Victoria and Albert Museum holds the original prompt book, covered in the stage managers’ doodles of mice: 65 Years of The Mousetrap →
Christie guessed eight months. Seventy-three years later, the curtain still rises… and the secret is still safe.
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