Original subtitles

Subtitling made possible by RLJ Entertainment

MAN: The Heart of Fire.

VAN ALDIN: So it is.

Got a light?

VAN ALDIN: Sure.

[Grunting]

[ Down-tempo jazz plays ]

[Music continues]

LADY TAMPLIN: Have you seen this?

Corky!

Corks!

Where's Corks?

LENOX: I thought you wanted me to call him Daddy.

Don't be facetious. Read that.

[ Needle scratches, music stops ]

[Birds chirping]

Some woman who was poor is now rich.

- What of it? - Katherine Grey!

She's my cousin! My first cousin!

Never heard of her.

No. Well, we never had a tremendous amount in common.

Why can't someone die and leave me half a million quid?

I'd spend it properly.

And all the right tradesmen would be rewarded and fulfilled.

And it'd all be lovely.

Darling Mummy.

You're always thinking of other people.

I think I should invite Katherine to come and stay.

Some Riviera sunshine might cheer her up.

If anyone asks me what I get from my mother,

I'll say shamelessness.

Pull your weight, darling, or that really will be all you get.

[Music resumes]

Good morning, madam. Take your bags?

Thank you, madam.

WOMAN: [American accent] Is that him?

Oh, my God. That's him.

M. Poirot?

I'm really going to faint. [Laughs]

My daughter, you see, is a tremendous fan of yours.

Merci.

Mr. Poirot, Rufus Van Aldin.

I'm in oil-- figuratively speaking.

Monsieur.

And I'm Ruth.

Or the Honorable Mrs. Derek Kettering

if I'm trying to book a table for lunch.

- You know the English. - Madame.

But I sincerely am a great admirer of your achievements.

So, today is my birthday.

Félicitations, madame.

I'm having a party tonight here.

Say you'll come or the evening will be ruined.

I'll kill myself. It'll be your fault.

Alas, madame, tonight I am busy.

Would you deny a girl a favor on her birthday?

Please!

You know it makes sense.

[ Mid-tempo jazz Playing ]

[ Indistinct conversations ]

WOMAN: And of course a raging lesbian.

But Americans are famously maladroit

in their choice of wives.

I mean, look at Rufus Van Aldin.

Married some singer,

who promptly drank away her figure

and what little brain she possessed.

She clung on through the birth of the child--

this one dancing--

and then bolted home to Buenos Aires.

Never heard of again.

Of course, received wisdom is... Van Aldin had her bumped off.

[Applause]

As I say that, he's looking straight at me.

[Music continues]

Mesdames.

Isn't she fabulous?

Oh. M. Van Aldin.

VAN ALDIN: Look at her go.

POIROT: I see that you adore her.

To the brink of dementia, where she tends to keep me.

And to purchase for her a jewel of such magnificence

as the Heart of Fire.

Sharper than diamond, redder than blood.

I'm impressed. You clearly know your stones.

No. Centuries of passion and duplicity attend this stone.

Betrayal, murder.

Alors, it is a celebrity.

VAN ALDIN: Getting the thing was certainly entertaining.

Drink for you, sir?

Merci.

Yes. Thank you.

There is something about that gentleman that displeases you?

I see no gentleman.

I see Derek goddamn Kettering.

My goddamn gold-digging son-of-a-bitch son-in-law.

You know I'm crazy about you, Ruth.

We're all crazy about you.

Some of us are just crazy.

You're embarrassing me.

You're aristocracy now, darling.

You don't get embarrassed.

You set the tone.

[ Inhales sharply]

[Music continues]

VAN ALDIN: Why do women do it, Poirot?

Leave their damned brains in neutral

when the bad guys start to sweet talk?

Why couldn't she have married

some straight-up-and-down dullard

who'd take care of her, for God's sake?

Like Knighton.

Knighton?

Ah. My secretary, Major Knighton.

This is Poirot.

M. Poirot.

What a pleasure it is to meet you.

And you, Major.

Gentlemen, if you will excuse me.

I called you dull, Knighton. I apologize.

I was just trying to make a point.

Oh, I've been called worse, sir.

Usually by you.

MAN: Card.

Card.

Can't you hear me, damn you?

Loud and clear, old boy. I'm just anxious on your behalf.

You do owe me rather a lot of money.

Are you going to furnish me with the required bloody card

or aren't you?

Thank you! Bust! Sod it!

Another hand.

It may be your style

to kick a fellow when he's down, Kettering, but it isn't mine.

I've never heard such bum-faced donkeyness in all my life.

Of course it's your style.

Deal the cards.

You're drunk.

My dear Count,

to sit gazing at you for any length of time,

drunkenness is absolutely mandatory.

Deal the bloody cards.

[Cards shuffling]

Merci.

Merci.

[ Cork pops ]

[Wine pouring]

Uh, please, do excuse me.

Mademoiselle, may I congratulate you

on a choice most excellent of the Bourgogne.

Whenever dine here, I choose this.

Oh!

Bon.

Merci.

Please do forgive me.

That was presumptuous in the extreme.

Not at all.

It's obvious that I'm grotesquely out of place here.

Au contraire, mademoiselle.

You fit this surrounding but to perfection.

Permit me to introduce myself.

Hercule Poirot.

Katherine Grey.

Mademoiselle.

[Music continues]

[ Door closes ]

KETTERING: Mm.

Well, this is nice.

Derek, tomorrow morning,

my daughter's going to file for divorce.

Is Ruth at all aware that this is what she's going to do?

Because I'm not sure she'd be entirely thrilled.

I'll pay you £100,000.

[ Whistles ]

Is that your best offer?

That's my only offer.

Well, old boy...

I'll tell you what.

Why don't you take your loose change

and shove it up your dreary colonial arse?

[Grunts]

Well, this has all been frightfully amusing.

But my wife will be wondering where I've got to.

[ Door opens]

She's off to Nice, did you know?

Might be an idea for me to tag along.

Could, uh, perk up the old nuptials.

If you contest the action, I warn you now,

I can get documentary evidence of infidelity.

Hers, undoubtedly.

Not mine.

I'm afraid the old chap's been hors de combat

ever since I started drinking scotch for breakfast.

And that was a long time ago.

Get the hell out of here!

Willingly.

Oh!

Marvelous party.

One day, there I was in the back of beyond,

looking after a cantankerous rich old lady.

Next day, I'm one myself.

No, no, no, no, no. I dispute "old."

[Laughs]

But it is curious, monsieur.

When someone who's never had much money

and never much cared suddenly comes into a lot,

then crowds of relatives one's never been particularly aware of

all start being terrifically hospitable.

No. You do yourself the grave disservice to say such a thing.

I'm serious.

Lady Tamplin, a cousin of mine

I've met once, I think, in my adult life,

has invited me to stay at her house on the Riviera.

Ah.

Hence all this.

I thought I'd better have a day or two in London to mug up,

wear a dress I didn't actually make myself,

dine here, for instance,

and learn how to use the knives and forks

so I don't disgrace myself at table.

I mean, look at me with the wine waiter.

- I was pathetic. - No.

Mademoiselle, all one ever needs are the good manners.

The rest is just silliness and snobbery valued only by bores.

[Laughs]

[ Door opens]

[ Clattering ]

[Murmuring]

POIROT: [ Chuckles ]

So, you travel by what, the Blue Train?

Oh. Yes, I do. Tomorrow.

So do I.

- No. - Mais oui.

Oh, you know, it is beyond delightful, mademoiselle,

that I may have en route the pleasure of your conversation.

You can steer me through all the knives and forks.

I shall be your avuncular.

Oh, yes. An avuncular.

Oh, that's exactly what I need.

Alors.

Papa Poirot, he is at your disposal.

[Laughs]

Come on. Come on.

[ Music, indistinct conversations in distance]

[ Door closes ]

Oh, mon petit ange, mon coeur.

Without you, my darling... my life is meaningless.

RUTH: Mm. Then you'll have to have me.

And you shall.

On the train.

It shall be an honor to travel third-class.

But do not think that my passion will be sated by a single night.

In Nice...

In Nice, you must find a way to escape to be with me.

No. Not in Nice.

Well, one understands, of course that you retain

some kind of withered stump of affection for your husband.

- But frankly-- - No. It's not Derek.

It's, uh, someone else.

Someone I have to meet on my own.

Darling, don't look so stricken.

You have no reason to be jealous.

[Music continues]

That looks painful.

Should have seen the other chap.

Can I, um...

No, no, no.

How very kind of you.

No, no. I'm-- I'm fine.

It's old news. No discomfort.

Gently Bentley will usually arrive.

[Music continues]

Miss Milesi.

Tomorrow afternoon, you and I are going to fly to Paris

and open an account for Kettering.

I remember what it's like to worry about money, Knighton.

Pretending you don't give a damn about it is one thing,

but having it in your hands, another.

It may do the trick.

No. I am going to bed.

[Laughs]

Good night.

Good night.

[ Indistinct shouting ]

Mm.

[Laughs]

Are stoles being worn vertically this season?

Good party, madam?

RUTH: Wonderful. Thank you, Mason.

Really wonderful, Daddy.

Thank you so much.

You're a wonderful girl.

You're not taking this with you, are you, on the train?

What do you think I am, crazy?

Never travel with anything you couldn't stand to lose.

Who's been telling me that, I wonder,

since I was, uh, 4 years old?

I'll get my people to talk to Derek's lawyers.

He has to go, honey.

By the time you get back, it'll all be over.

Sleep tight, little bear.

Mm.

Better put that somewhere safe, Mason.

Yes, madam.

Will we be taking it with us or leaving it?

- Taking it. - [ Bell chimes, doors open ]

[Whistle blows]

[ Indistinct conversations ]

Thank you.

Mm-hmm.

Anybody who is anybody.

- [ Knock on door] - KATHERINE: M. Poirot?

Entrez, mademoiselle.

I'm so sorry to disturb you.

But I was wondering-- In the case of the artichokes,

is it the fork like this... o-or like this?

It was a joke, monsieur.

I'm teasing you.

Hold that bloody train!

[ Man shouting in French]

What extraordinary people there are in France.

Oui. I do not think that we shall be bored.

[ Shouting continues]

Cases! Quickly!

Tickets! Tickets! Tickets!

[Whistle blowing ]

Darling, what a business!

Sorry?

That poor old bat popping her clogs in the bath

and you being the one to find her.

It's Rosie Tamplin.

Don't you recognize me, darling? It has been a while.

One lived in hope that you might pop down to see us in Nice.

But one quite understands

how frantically busy you must have been down in Surrey.

- Hampshire. - Absolutely.

Anyway, Corky and I thought

we simply must make the most of you

now we've managed to drag you to the continent.

So why not surprise you on the train?

Voila!

Do you speak French at all?

Don't give it a moment's thought.

All the right people speak English.

Ah! Here they are at last.

Katherine, my daughter, Lenox.

And this infant is my husband, Corky.

- He's not my father, obviously. - Lord, no!

That would be the astonishment of science.

I'm, uh-- What am I, darling? I'm husband number four.

Give or take a brace.

Katherine, tell you what.

We're having a knees-up in your honor tomorrow.

Toute Nice will be there. It should be a scream.

Have you ever played bunnies?

- It's terribly easy. - Now, look.

The poor girl's not ready to be Tamplinated.

She's come in here to read her book.

So let's give her 10 minutes' peace.

Come on. Shoo. Let her get her train legs.

We can yak over dinner.

- Which compartment are you in? - Um, number seven.

Oh! Excellent! Bang next door to Lenox.

You two can have a good old chin-wag through the wall

all the way to Nice.

Come on, troops.

Following wind. She's a bit of a cracker.

Don't get too comfortable.

We're not here to enjoy ourselves.

[Whistle blows]

Monsieur.

Well...

That's that.

Do you think I'm doing the wrong thing?

Paying off Kettering?

Not necessarily, sir.

But it's-- it's damnably annoying.

MAN: Monsieur.

VAN ALDIN: Oh.

I need a long bath to wash this dirty business off of me.

Then I'm going to go to sleep.

I don't yet need anyone to help me with any of the above,

so I'll say good night.

If you're sure, sir.

Well, sure, I'm sure.

You kick the gong around, Richard.

Tab's on me. This is Paris.

Somebody's got to have a good time.

Excuse me. Is this seat taken?

Oh, I'm sorry. I was expecting someone.

Well, as soon as you see him, holler and I'll budge.

I like to get my postcards written

before the vacation starts, you know?

God, I'm bored.

Of course you're bored, darling. It's your hormones.

[Laughs]

Corky, why don't you go and find a little friend to play with?

Hmm?

[Laughs]

Give the American girl five minutes, then muscle in.

You're making me into such a prostitute.

Darling, that would be simple.

I'm helping you make nice friends, which is much harder.

RUTH: He's my man.

I love him.

And no, he is not my husband.

Listen, I-I saw you coming out of number seven.

Do you think you might possibly do me the most enormous favor?

Would you trade with me? You don't have to do a thing.

My maid would move all your stuff.

It's just that number seven is more conveniently placed.

That end of the carriage...

it's closer to him.

I ask you this for love.

Real love.

Of course.

I-I'm sure that'll be fine.

Thank you.

Thank God you're a woman of the world.

[Laughs]

Oh, steward.

Miss Van Aldin.

Could you please give this to my maid?

I know.

The name does tend to just crash into the room

and roll around like a grenade,

everybody wondering whether or not

they can decently ask about my mother.

I wasn't going to.

Do I remember her, and so forth.

The truth, which I never tell the press, is no.

I don't remember her at all.

I close my eyes and think about her, and there's nothing.

Just... a big, empty space

I've carried around my whole life.

Désolé, monsieur. Un moment. Mademoiselle.

Monsieur.

Ignite me.

Monsieur, excusez-moi.

Merci.

[ Lighter clicks]

Un cassis, s'il vous plait.

Merci.

- M. Poirot. - Madame.

I didn't know you were on this train.

Mais oui.

And you're traveling with this lady?

I have that honor, oui.

Then this must be your seat.

Merci, madame.

The words "horse" and "dark" somehow spring to mind.

I am avuncular to Mlle. Grey.

Oh. How nice for her.

No wonder her complexion is so fresh.

[Laughs]

Perhaps I should circulate the notion that you're my bodyguard.

The solicitors said I shouldn't even travel

as far as the pillar-box at the end of the road

without having made my will.

POIROT: For once, the solicitors are probably correct.

KATHERINE: It's perverse of me, I know.

But after a lifetime

of effectively domestic service,

I still don't like being told what to do.

I shall do it, of course.

As soon as I get back to England.

But five to one, I don't think I'll be murdered

in the course of the next few days.

By the standards of my fellow passengers, I'm still poor.

Five to one?

That is a calculation that I cannot support.

Why? What's wrong with it?

Because the numbers, they are odd,

and I prefer them to be even.

The odd numbers, they make me...

M. Poirot.

I'm so glad you're here.

LADY TAMPLIN: Did I hear the name Poirot?

Madame.

This is so thrilling, I can hardly breathe.

Tell me, monsieur, have you taken rooms in a hotel?

You absolutely must cancel them.

All French hotels are intolerable,

especially the expensive ones.

No, no.

You are staying with us.

[ Indistinct conversations ]

[ Knock on door]

Just a minute.

[ Door opens]

- MASON: Mrs. Kettering, sir-- - Mr. Kettering heard.

He's already had the privilege of seeing his wife's neck naked.

I can manage.

[Clicking]

Well, that's why you're here, isn't it?

Amazingly, no.

I had an idea.

I thought that, free of your father

and other benign influences,

we might have a chance to patch things up.

You really are a piece of work.

But I discovered that the benignest influence of them all

is actually on the bloody train!

Have a care, Ruthie.

He's not what he seems.

Yet another way in which he is remarkably unlike you.

La Roche is a card sharp.

He's a confidence trickster!

I want a divorce.

[ Chuckles ]

No, Ruthie.

You don't.

I want a divorce, Derek.

And do you know what? That scares the hell out of you.

It makes you sick to your handmade boots

because it's goodbye to the Yankee milch cow,

hello, bankruptcy.

Well, I've never in my darkest hour thought of you as a cow.

A horse, possibly, in a betting sense.

So you'd better take what's going while you still can, huh?

Actually...

...it's not enough.

You are insufferable.

I've never lied to you, Ruthie.

Not once.

KATHERINE: Who is it?

It is I, Hercule Poirot.

Our table, it is prepared.

[ Hinges creak]

[ Sobs]

You see, mademoiselle...

...what such a picture, it does not show

is that the man is even happier than the child.

To know that the daughter whom he adores

loves him with all her heart.

Mon Dieu. This moment, it is immortal.

Yes.

That's what I used to think.

Then Daddy killed himself.

What?

At the time this picture was taken,

he employed almost 1,000 men and women.

- No! - Knew them all by name.

[Train rattles]

When Van Aldin Oil moved to buy him out,

he agreed on the strict understanding

that they would retain the entire workforce.

Within a week of taking control, they sacked everybody.

"How can I look them in the eye?" my father said.

"I've betrayed them all."

Tonight when she was talking, I wanted my father so much,

I thought I was going to die.

Oh.

Where are we?

We seem to keep stopping and starting.

Well, at the moment,

we-- we travel around Paris on the Ceinture.

The suburbs through which we must creep.

It is frustratingly slow.

Um, I think I might give the knives and forks a miss tonight.

I'm feeling a bit washed out.

Do you mind awfully?

No, no, no. Not at all.

I am at your service, Mlle. Grey.

MAN: Très bien, Miss Van Aldin.

I'll have Chef prepare a late supper

for you to take in your compartment.

10:00, madame?

[ Indistinct conversations ]

LADY TAMPLIN: Playing cards?

Corky, listen to me.

If you don't show for dinner, that is time wasted.

Bunny, a bloke's got to be free to play a game of cards.

I don't think you fully appreciate the gravity--

I appreciate the hell out of it, old girl.

I'm--

What?

[ Indistinct conversations ]

Is Katherine awfully unwell?

How frantically boring for her.

Please. Don't get up.

Just wish her a good night's sleep from all of us.

[ Sobs]

Well, that's me, girls. I'm out.

Stakes are getting a bit hairy for the Corker.

But don't let me put the brakes on you fellows.

You, um, you crack on.

I think this gentleman's had enough.

KETTERING: Deal the cards.

Mais je me demande,

how when the cards fall cruelly for Mr. Kettering yet again,

will he possibly be able to pay me?

Unless, of course,

he finds very quickly a more favorable combination.

Deal.

MAN: Miss Van Aldin?

[Whistle blows]

[Train rattles]

I wasn't asleep.

[ Brakes screech ]

[ Steam hisses ]

[ Glass shatters ]

[ Indistinct shouting ]

MAN: Hold the bloody train!

[Whistle blows]

[Train chugging]

[ Indistinct conversations ]

[Whistle blows]

[Woman screams]

My dear Lady Tamplin.

Don't. Don't. I think I'm going to be sick.

What ever is the matter, Lady Tamplin?

Oh, God. Katherine.

What has happened to Mlle. Grey?

She...

Oh, my God.

I shouldn't have to look at all that blood.

[Sighs]

[ Screaming ]

- Oh! - Oh.

I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting.

I couldn't find my silly comb.

Compartment number seven.

[ Footsteps approaching ]

Miss Van Aldin, sir.

But who can tell, mon ami?

Who can tell?

Tell to me what you see, Inspector.

[ Indistinct conversations in distance]

A bottle of champagne. Smashed.

Mirror. Smashed.

The strong box has been opened. Not forced.

Whatever was hanging from that necklace is now gone.

The Heart of Fire.

Her face.

Well, there isn't one.

She's been hit so many times, there's nothing left.

Death within the last...

...nine hours.

[Whistle blows]

No. Poirot, he left the dining car at 10:00.

And he saw Mme. Kettering receive from the steward

her tray.

At 4:00 in the morning, he heard the smash of glass...

...and saw a man hastening down the corridor.

CAUX: Renvoyez le gargon au cabine.

I think she had a man in here.

The woman had a servant of some description?

A maid.

But she has gone.

Hm.

Missing jewels. Missing maid.

No. She left the train at Paris, at the Gare de Lyon.

To clear the way for lover boy, yes?

Coffee.

The brain doesn't work without coffee.

KETTERING: The trouble with abroad

is it's full of bloody foreigners!

Ah.

Sorry to despoil communion with Mecca and all that,

but I'm looking for a copper.

Do you speak English?

Yes, M. Kettering.

Who is that under there?

Oh, my dear God.

Ruth.

My darling Ruth.

[ Down-tempo music plays ]

[Vehicles passing ]

What a dreadful thing this is.

Did you know the woman?

Um, n-no.

I-I mean...

No. Not really. No.

Monsieur.

Mademoiselle?

[Sighs]

What we all need is a bloody stiff drink.

Hear, hear. I'll get them.

POIROT: No, no, no, no. If you please. If you please.

I'm afraid the drink, it will have to wait.

The inspector wishes all passengers to remain here

- for interview. - Oh, what rot.

Fellow can wish all he likes.

We're British citizens.

Isn't there something in the passport about

"His Majesty requests and requires

we don't have to fanny about with foreign policemen"?

Non.

Oh, God.

How grim.

VAN ALDIN: Get out of my way, God damn it!

Ruth!

Non, monsieur. Non.Non.Non.

Calmez-vous. Calmez-vous, monsieur.

Mlle. Mason, could you explain to me, please,

how it was that you came to leave the train in Paris?

It is important that you speak freely.

Yes.

I...

I was dressing Madam for dinner

when there was a knock on the door.

And she says, "Wait."

But the door opens, and it's Mr. Kettering.

So I went off and made myself scarce.

Booked a table for dinner, and...

And-- And when I came back, the door was locked.

And I could hear Madam speaking French to someone.

And I thought...

..."Well, who's that, then?"

Because Mr. Kettering doesn't speak French.

And then...

she puts her head 'round the door and she says,

"Change of plan, Mason.

Get a taxi to the George V,

and I'll send you a wire telling you what to do."

I knew something wasn't right, Mr. V.

And I tried to call you, but they-- they couldn't find you.

VAN ALDIN: It's okay, Mason.

You did your best.

[ Sobs]

Thank you, mademoiselle. That will be all.

CAUX: I think she's lying.

KNIGHTON: She was there, actually.

What?

Mason. I-I saw her.

At the George, after you turned in.

I didn't think she saw me.

But it was definitely her.

I should have said hello, but...

I didn't awfully want the company.

[Whistle blows in distance]

[ Indistinct conversations ]

Oui, monsieur. A I'intérieur.

a Va?

Toujours aussi raffinée, hm?

Et douce, une femme bien élevée.

POIROT: You are most welcome, M. Kettering.

Do continue, but in English, if you please.

Of what use are concealments? We are all men of the world.

It is true--

I was on the same train as my beloved.

But for reasons of discretion, I traveled third class.

At her invitation, I was to... visit her compartment.

You slimy little sewer rat.

Oh! There is no shame in love.

My beloved had arranged an exchange of premises

in order to facilitate our assignation.

She finds such things amusing.

Yes. If I-I could just interrupt proceedings for a minute.

I've-- I've got something

I've been meaning to give you, La Roche.

Ah. Ah, yes. Here we go.

[ Grunts] Animal!

You could have given me a black eye!

Match your fingernails and your heart.

Gentlemen!

Do you want the inspector to put you in the cells?

You hear the way he speaks about my wife?

Possessing her?

You had her alive. You will not have her dead!

In what sense "dead"?

In the sense that someone has smashed her face in

with a hammer.

I thought you were investigating a theft.

Is that really what you thought?

You crook.

You'd have the nipple off your mother's tit.

How could I possibly have stolen anything, you imbecile,

when I spent the entire evening marinating in your company?

This is true?

You were together all of the time?

Yes.

We were playing cards with some unfeasibly gormless idiot.

Corky Tamplin.

Apart from for five minutes.

And I might as well say this before Mason squeals on me,

if she hasn't already.

I knocked on Ruth's door and had a blazing row with her.

Ah.

Alors.

You must celebrate.

Order the champagne.

What are you talking about?

M. Van Aldin has informed me that your wife,

she made no will.

You are richer by £2 million.

That is the amount settled on her by her father.

Your wife, she dies intestate. So the money, it is yours.

[Hinges squeak]

Je vous félicité.

[ Door closes ]

MAN: Excusez-moi, madame.

Par ici.

[ Indistinct conversations ]

Ah, signora.

I will be brief.

All I must discover at this moment

is which of the passengers is known to you personally.

MIRELLE: I know nobody.

So you're not acquainted with M. Derek Kettering?

I know nobody.

I travel alone, and I do not make acquaintances.

Le Comte de la Roche?

M. Corky Tamplin?

[Laughs]

Men always believe that sheer persistence

will get them what they think they want.

It has no dignity, and it does not work.

Ruth Kettering?

Mlle. Katherine Grey?

I was in bed --all night.

If you seek corroboration, interrogate my pillow.

Am I free to go?

For the present, signora, we are all free.

Excuse me.

LADY TAMPLIN: On the contrary-- It would be ghastly

not to be interrogated when it's so fashionable.

Mind you, I can't see the point.

We weren't careering about the train murdering strange women.

We were in bed.

CORKY: I wasn't.

No. You were playing cards with your little chums.

All of the night, you played the cards?

That's right.

I didn't bet. Much.

- And there you remained? - That's right.

No, M. Corky. That is wrong.

Because at Marseilles, you almost gave to Poirot

the heart attack by rushing past his window

as the train, it was about to depart.

So I did.

I got off to stretch the legs and the billowy portions.

Almost missed the ruddy train.

Was it Marseilles?

It was.

Right.

Well, I wouldn't set much store

by information emanating from me.

[ Door closes ]

Famously stuck for gray matter, eh?

Everyone knows that Corky's got a few pages glued together.

But it was also at Marseilles that the murder was committed.

Oh, hell. I've goofed.

No, M. Corky.

You have goofed only if the murder, it was committed by you.

And this, Poirot is not, at the present time...

[ Door closes ]

...disposed to believe.

[ Up-tempo music plays]

[ Engine turns over]

[ Laughter]

[Music continues]

[ Laughter]

Goodness, Rosaline. What a glorious place.

It is rather splendid, in a shabby sort of way.

We're revoltingly happy here.

[ Chuckles ]

Now, Katherine, monsieur.

There are only two rules at the Villa Marguerite.

You shall be comfortable and you shall not be hungry.

Or thirsty, by God.

POIROT: That is most kind, monsieur.

Uh, would it be possible for me to use the telephone?

I have one more person to question.

Open up, Corks. Chop-chop.

Mr. P. wants the blower.

Ah! Merci.

M. Van Aldin, you knew that I wished to interview you,

and yet you disappeared.

I was upset.

I apologize. What do you want to know?

You flew to Nice from Paris.

- Yes. - Why?

It was a surprise.

For whom?

For my daughter. Spur of the moment.

I took a plane from Paris to Nice.

Oh, come on. You can talk to the pilot.

Oh, are you going to say that someone as wealthy as me

could have bribed the pilot?

Could you not?

Of course I could!

I could bribe the damned president of the United States

to dance naked on the White House steps!

I was not on the train, Poirot.

Take it or leave it.

Dear Mr. Van Aldin, you poor, poor thing.

I absolutely insist you stay with us tonight.

You need company. You need distraction.

You're at the Villa Marguerite now, Mr. Van Aldin.

Things here are as right as rain.

You'll see.

[ Down-tempo jazz plays ]

[ Insects chirping ]

[Music continues]

Can you tell I'm wearing suspenders under this?

Yes.

Excellent.

The party doesn't start for half an hour.

You're like a little puppy, really, aren't you?

Down. I'm cross with you.

Why?

Did I forget something?

Married three years, eh?

That's, um, that's lino, isn't it?

Bakelite?

So where's my present?

In my pocket.

Hand it over.

Get it yourself, you lazy tart!

[ Both laughing]

Better be something down here apart from the usual nonsense.

- Hm. - [Laughs]

I love you, Rosie.

[ Paper rustling ]

[Laughs]

[ Up-tempo jazz playing ]

[ Laughter, indistinct conversations ]

Whoa!

[Music continues]

- Ah!

Here. Poirot.

This is local.

We call it the Infuriator.

This'll put lead into your little propelling pencil.

N-Non, merci.

Mm-hmm.

Merci.

Mm. I must circulate before I drink it all myself.

Look here!

I accuse you of being my wife!

And I demand the right to be kissed.

[ Smooches, laughs ]

[Music continues]

[ Laughter, indistinct conversations ]

Oh!

Oh, clever Corky.

Mummy thought he'd forgotten her anniversary.

But he clearly hasn't. He's got her something.

I just hope to God for his sake

it didn't cost a lot of her money.

But if money is in short supply, this rekindled friendship

with Mlle. Grey might be most convenient.

Well, that's why she's here.

I mean, it must be crystal clear to Katherine.

Mummy's incorrigible!

She can't just have a party. She has to have a sensation!

It's that air of helpless ruin. It is desperately attractive.

He may well be a killer, too, of course.

That's a bit worrying.

Maybe that's what's attractive. I don't know.

Oh, God!

She's only gone and invited him as well!

Oh, Mummy.

Not one to let a tiresome brutal murder cramp her style.

[Laughs]

[Music continues]

[ Insects chirping ]

[Music continues]

Lady Tamplin hasn't changed.

You clearly know each other.

Oh, she ran a sort of hospital here during the war.

Looked after me when I got my, um, souvenir of Flanders.

Look, I'm glad to have caught you on your own, Miss Grey.

I, um...

I wanted to say...

Uh...

Actually, I haven't got the faintest idea

what I wanted to say.

Some sort of half-baked offer to be of service.

It's very kind of you.

It's perfectly tedious.

I mean, you're eminently capable.

No, really.

It's very generous of you to be concerned for me

after this awful thing has happened.

I appreciate it.

MASON: Oh! Oh, God, Major!

Oh, I'm so sorry.

Oh, God. They're all gone now.

Oh, I told Mr. V that I don't do silver service.

Mason-- Mason, I-it's all right.

Now, you've...

you've done us all a favor chucking this muck on the floor

rather than making us drink it.

It doesn't matter.

Look after Mr. Van Aldin for me. Much more important.

See if there's anything he needs.

Off you go.

KATHERINE: Have you seen, Major,

that Lady Tamplin has invited the murderer?

She's a very thoughtful hostess.

La Roche is not the murderer.

Oh?

How do you, um...

Oh, order and method.

These are the elements of Poirot.

Oh. I, um, I should probably...

[Music continues]

[ Rattling ]

Et enfin, ça commence.

The bell tolls. But for whom?

- [ Grunts ] - [ Breathing heavily]

No. No, no.

Good evening, Mirelle.

How dare you keep that from me!

From me!

[ Birds, insects chirping]

[Opera music playing]

[Bell tolling]

[Vehicle approaches ]

[Engine idling]

[Bell tolling]

VAN ALDIN: Sister Rosalia, please forgive me.

I know I said 7:00.

SISTER ROSALIA: That's quite all right.

- Someone took my taxi. - Yes.

Your representative-- He warned us you would be a little late.

My representative?

Have you been inside?

Before you, monsieur? Non.

No. That would be discourteous.

Come and meet my wife.

Merci.

VAN ALDIN: Dolores Kay.

I can't tell you how beautiful she was.

How elegant.

She wasn't ever a very happy woman.

When Ruth was born,

she tried to smuggle her home to Argentina in a suitcase.

It almost killed the baby.

And you sent her to this place?

VAN ALDIN: Sister Rosalia promised

that if Ruth ever found out that I lied to her

or ever tried to contact Dolores, she'd call me.

Ah. This is why you flew to Nice.

Your daughter.

She had discovered that her mother was alive, huh?

And you wanted to dissuade her from coming here.

Dissuade her, Poirot. Not slaughter in cold blood.

[ Footsteps approaching ]

Allez, Jeanne.

Viens. Viens.

We don't have scissors, do we?

Please, Sister Dolores.

There's a good girl.

[Bell tolling]

Thank you.

You didn't think I had her committed here

as an inmate, did you?

N-No. Dolores is management.

She's not unhappy here.

She... came to me.

Who came, madame?

Ruth.

A dream.

A dream. She dreams all day.

She brought me flowers.

The flowers, madame, certainly you did not dream.

CAUX: Well, what we actually have is a faceless corpse.

So... all right.

What if... she faked it?

The daughter faked her own death to punish Papa.

Or to escape her husband.

I don't know. Both.

Then she would be the murderer.

[Woman crying ]

POIROT: Oh, mademoiselle!

Oh! Mademoiselle!

Oh, M. Poirot, I'm-- I'm so sorry!

I won't go to prison, will I?

Not at all, mademoiselle. Not at all.

[ Sobs]

Mason thinks she's remembered something.

I don't think. I have!

Mlle. Mason, what is it that you recall?

I saw who it was-- with Madame.

[ Sobs]

This is most important, mademoiselle.

You are absolutely certain?

Yes.

It was him. It was him, all right.

In the compartment.

It was Mr. Kettering.

That's it.

Find the bastard and tell him he's arrested.

M. Van Aldin, if I might have a moment?

No!

God damn it, Poirot! I've had it with your moments!

We have a witness who says she saw Kettering

in my daughter's compartment.

I want the son of a bitch locked up!

[ Door slams]

Got a fag, Poi-rot?

[Vehicles passing, bell tolling in distance]

Couple of doofers, if that's all right.

Doofe rs?

Do for later.

Ah.

Each time we meet, M. Kettering,

I learn something useful.

Well, get on with it, then.

You may have time to waste,

but I've got a busy social schedule.

You went to the compartment of your wife.

Yes, old bean. I told you that.

To steal the Heart of Fire.

No.

But you've got a head of steam up, so press on.

The strong box, it was not forced.

Who knew the combination?

Don't know. Wasn't one of them.

Non, but you thought you could extract the code from your wife,

did you not?

But you failed.

Later you returned,

drunk and desperate to settle your debt to La Roche.

You then compelled your wife, Ruth, to open the box.

And killed her because?

I feel my motive's getting a weeny bit congested here.

The theft complete, you battered your wife to death

because she refused your sexual advances.

If you actually believe any of that,

then I can't talk to you.

Non. You can talk to me.

Well, amusingly enough, you're not entirely wrong.

But it was La Roche who planned to pinch the Heart.

Spanner in the works with Ruth pulling up to the station

with that dirty great safe.

He hadn't banked on that.

Had to think again. [ Chuckles]

Fortunately, there I was.

So he offered me a deal--

the entire debt written off, like that,

in exchange for the combination.

How could I fail to accept?

Easy. I didn't know the code.

I told him to sling his hook.

However, once a chap's got the habit of counting cards,

he finds patterns in everything.

They imprint themselves on the brain

whether he wants them to or not.

And lo, there came a point in the evening

where that pattern was the only asset I possessed.

CORKY: A 4, a 6, a 9, an ace, and a 7?

Well and truly bust, old boy.

What were you thinking?

POIROT: But La Roche knew the combination.

So what went wrong?

Not quite the condition of erotic preparation

in which he expected to find my wife.

[ Breathing heavily]

I was...

...numb.

But he rallied quickly enough.

Pointed out that things wouldn't look exactly ideal

for either of us,

that we should agree there and then

neither of us ever left that compartment.

So, according to La Roche, he ain't your man.

Shame.

I'd borrow good money to see him hanged.

[ Indistinct conversations ]

Mislaid in the compartment of Mme. Kettering.

May Poirot sit, signora?

He wishes to tell to you a little story.

I despise fiction.

Ah.

But this little story, it is true.

It is about M. Rufus Van Aldin.

A man of authority.

Accustomed to acquiring whatever he wants whenever he wants it.

But he is not able to secure the divorce of his daughter, Ruth,

without the evidence of the adultery

of his son-in-law, M. Derek Kettering.

Alors, he learns that his son-in-law

plans to join his daughter, Ruth, on the Blue Train.

I don't know any of these people.

And, you know, he does a thing most extraordinary.

He sends his lover on the train, also,

to offer herself to M. Derek Kettering.

Ignite me.

Et quel cauchemar.

The plan, it fails, no?

M. Kettering proves immune to her powerful charms,

because he has a secret that nobody else knows.

He loves his wife.

C'est ça.

Why did you enter the compartment of Mme. Kettering?

That was weakness.

I wanted to see her things.

But while you were in there, you found and kept

the page of a letter concerning the wife of M. Van Aldin.

And reading it at dinner, it, naturally, upset you.

But you resolved to see the woman for yourself.

I was curious to see what would be my fate

should I ever marry Rufus.

She was convinced that I was her daughter.

[Kissing]

Color-blind as well as mad.

However, it seemed cruel to disabuse her.

Her life has been sufficiently unfortunate.

Well, that was kind.

[ Chuckles ]

I've spent most of my life being kind, monsieur.

Mostly to men of about your age.

And look where it has got me.

Whoring for no pay.

[ Inhales deeply]

Life.

Grossly overrated, I find.

[ Birds, insects chirping]

This is fun.

KATHERINE: What, cleaning your teeth?

No. Having you here.

You should come back when all this nonsense is sorted out.

[Water runs ]

The police, Mummy trying to hoodoo you

into believing she's your best friend

so she can touch you for a few quid.

Lenox!

She's my mother. I love her.

I'm allowed to point out the obvious.

I'm just saying you should come back at a less hectic time.

Bring your admirer.

Major Knighton.

Oh, come on.

He's this perfectly normal human being.

And then you come in and he turns into an absolute sheep,

You must have noticed.

- Lenox. - What?

Shh.

LENOX: Actually, it's bloody hot tonight.

[Hinges squeak]

[ Insects chirping ]

That's better.

[ Screams ]

LENOX: No! No! No!

No! No! No!

Help!

No! No!

[ Screams ]

[Grunts]

What's the matter with you?

You can dole it out, but you can't take it, eh?

From a couple of girls?

Mademoiselle, it is all right. It is all right.

Sit down. Sit down. You are safe now.

You are safe.

Well! [Laughs]

That was thrilling.

[ Exhales deeply]

[Bell tolling]

I'm so sorry.

It's all right.

There's really--

There's really no need for me to be lying in bed.

I feel fine.

[ Knock on door]

Come in.

KNIGHTON: Um...

Six sugars.

Absolutely disgusting, of course.

But it's good for... you know.

Thank you.

And, um...

How lovely.

Monsieur, sorry, but do you have any idea

why Miss Grey was attacked?

I mean, there's nothing to connect her and Mrs. Kettering.

Is there?

There is the possibility most dreadful...

...that the death of Mme. Kettering

was not what the murderer intended.

You mean he came for me?

Oh, God.

Um, so he didn't know that Ruth and I had swapped compartments?

No. It's-- It's a possibility only.

No. It's all right. Um...

I just thought of something. Shout me down if I'm wrong.

We are assuming the murderer got off the train with us at Nice,

aren't we?

What's to stop him disappearing before he got to here?

I don't know.

Dropping off somewhere in the dark?

Mlle. Grey, you must excuse me.

Major Knighton, au revoir.

I am become overcautious.

Mlle. Grey, she will explain.

Excuse me.

[ Door closes ]

[ Indistinct conversations ]

Oh, mon Dieu. I could not understand Paris.

But then Paris did not exist to be understood.

In the concealment of a crime, it is a phenomenon most curious

when one fact, it supports another fact

and neither of them are facts at all.

S'il vous plait.

Merci.

You must go to the Villa Marguerite at once, eh?

[ Paper rips]

C'est très urgent.

Très urgent!

[ Insects chirping ]

The theft of the Heart of Fire.

The murder of Mme. Ruth Kettering.

The attempted murder of Mlle. Katherine Grey.

All of this is the work of an intelligence formidable.

And it moves amongst us now.

Signora Milesi.

You are 40 years of age,

so it is not unreasonable that you should wish

that M. Rufus Van Aldin should formalize your relations.

You could yet provide him with an heir.

Now, look here, God damn it!

S'il vous plait.

This mauvais moment for you all can only be prolonged

by interruption.

I advise against it.

And yet he makes no move to do so,

because he already has an heiress--

his daughter,

to whom he is devoted most extravagantly.

I think we can agree I'm not short on motive.

POIROT: Or opportunity.

By your own admission,

you entered the compartment of Mme. Ruth Kettering,

and rifled through her possessions.

Oh, you had the desire, signora, and the passion nécessaire,

to commit a crime of such atrocity.

Et ça, c'est la vérité.

Nevertheless, I did not do it.

Finished with the lady, Poirot?

Feel like picking on someone your own size?

POIROT: D'accord.

The conduct of your daughter, monsieur--

It humiliates you, huh?

Her marriage catastrophique.

Her liaison ridiculous with La Roche.

How simple it would have been

for you to board the train in Paris

to mete out punishment to your daughter,

so that the two women in your life who had let you down,

your wife and your child, should never be reunited.

And then to steal the Heart of Fire,

for you are the one man on earth

to whom its value means completely nothing.

And then what?

To simply throw it out of the window,

to disguise your crime that was most barbarous as mere thievery.

KETTERING: Will you please stop buggering about

and just say which one of us is the bad egg?

For God's sake, man, we all know it was me.

Then how did you manage to attack me?

You were locked up.

It wasn't you, and we know it wasn't you.

So will you stop showing off

and let M. Poirot finish what he has to say?

My turn.

Forgive me, Mademoiselle Grey.

You told to Poirot

the story most tragic of your childhood, huh?

And of the man whose empire most evil

trampled into the grave your father-- M. Rufus Van Aldin.

But you can never make him know

the agony of the loss that you have known,

because he has no father.

But he has a daughter.

KNIGHTON: That's enough, monsieur.

We appreciate the democratic nature of the exercise.

We all get a pasting.

But Miss Grey clearly didn't attack herself,

and I think you should desist.

Ah.

The gallant Major Knighton, whose loyalty knows no bounds.

Not strictly true, monsieur.

I'm not really in the business

of slaughtering my employer's offspring.

On anybody's orders.

You know, on the principle that the least likely suspect

is most probably guilty, your stock is high.

He was at the hotel in Paris.

[Sighs]

But of course.

You know, even the memory of Poirot,

it needs refreshing.

Lady Tamplin.

Our consummate hostess.

Alas for you that you are embarrassed financially.

How dare you?

Is it possible that you dispatched the wrong woman?

What are you driveling about?

Surely you meant to kill Mlle. Katherine Grey.

Well, should she die

before her return to England to make her will,

you would be the rightful inheritor of the estate.

Rot! And bloody cheeky, if you don't mind my saying so.

And, Mademoiselle Lenox, instructed by your mother

to make the great friendship with Mlle. Grey.

We're broke.

And yet you travel in the Pullman car of the Blue Train.

The bill for that is on my desk.

I can't pay it.

Royally buggered.

But I was planning to touch her for a check, monsieur,

not murder her for her inheritance.

Does this make things awkward between us?

Oh, no, not at all.

Oh, I am glad.

You're really rather fun.

I wouldn't want you to feel you couldn't come again.

[ Laughter]

A suffit!

Please don't.

Monsieur Corky, would you tell to Poirot...

how this came to be in your possession?

[ Gasps ]

I skipped off the train for a fresh bowl.

I was just about to get back on, when, blow me, there it was,

just sitting there on the rail, all sparkly.

I mean, if the train had gone off again,

it would have been smashed to pieces.

So I, uh... I reached down and I got it.

And you gave it to me?

I thought it was lovely.

I thought you'd like it. You-- You did like it.

But, darling...

Even you, in your indestructible innocence,

must have wondered what it was doing there.

No?

You didn't ask yourself?

Oh, Corky, I do love you, but you are hopeless.

VAN ALDIN: It's a fake.

I can smell a phony through a brick wall.

This isn't the Heart of Fire.

It's a COPY-

Justement.

The replica.

Enfin, Monsieur le Comte.

The long game, huh?

It was to relieve Mme. Kettering of her jewel, no?

You would make the substitution,

and by the time it was discovered, you would be gone.

I absolutely must protest.

Well, of course, that is your prerogative, monsieur.

But far better for Poirot to expose you

as a thief and charlatan than as a murderer.

Do not speak.

Let Poirot tell.

Vraiment, it is simpler.

Having successfully extracted

the combination of the strong box from M. Kettering,

you hastened to the compartment of his wife,

taking the champagne.

You fled the compartment

to dictate your alibi to M. Kettering,

pausing only to rid yourself of the incriminating forgery.

Nevertheless, the true Heart of Fire, it was gone.

Alors, messieurs et dames,

what had truly taken place in that compartment?

Let us address ourselves to the elements of this case

that are not human, for they cannot dissemble.

The broken mirror, par exemple.

- It was beneath the dinner tray. - MAN: Miss Van Aldin?

The dinner tray, therefore, must have entered the compartment

after the murder.

But then, who ordered the dinner tray?

Not Ruth Kettering,

but someone pretending to be her,

behind whom Ruth already lay dead

and faceless on the floor.

Oh, we see those around us.

And we think we know them.

But we know nothing at all.

Oh, my God!

Bloody hell! I don't have to put up with being manhandled!

Poirot, he marveled at the strength and audacity

of this thief and murderer.

Of any adversary Poirot had ever known,

oh, this killer was twice the man.

But do you know, Poirot did not realize

how literally this was true.

For, mes amis, this murderer is not one person, but two persons,

working together, sharing the same passion,

the same sickness.

I talk, of course, of Ada Mason.

But also... of the man who is her lover.

And this man, he thinks he can escape Poirot.

Not so.

For he made one little mistake

from which emanated a myriad of others.

He fell in love.

And for his partner, this was unendurable,

for jealousy, as it so often does,

throws open the door to murder.

[ Screams ]

LENOX: No! No! No!

[ Screams ]

POIROT: And then the affair of the Heart of Fire,

it began to unravel.

Poirot discovered a newspaper cutting.

It reported of a jewel theft

that took place shortly after the Great War.

[ Glass shatters, women gasp ]

That hurt you, did it not, Major Knighton? And why?

Because after you left the hospital,

at the Villa Marguerite, in 1918,

taking the jewels of Lady Tamplin with you--

for this was the first theft in your career--

your leg, it was completely healed.

But this you told to no one.

Because then, as now,

the misplaced sympathy and trust of others, it delights you.

And so you charm your way

to sit at the right hand of M. Rufus Van Aldin.

You employ your partner to become maid to his daughter,

et voilé.

The target, it is surrounded.

As the train, it traveled slowly around Paris,

you climbed aboard.

Mason admitted you to the compartment.

RUTH: Who is it?

Me, madam.

RUTH: Just a minute.

POIROT: She had the combination.

She could have taken the jewel at any time.

But what you craved, both of you,

was the savagery of murder, for it aroused you.

[ Gasps, screams ]

POIROT: And even when Mme. Kettering was dead,

the violence, it did not end.

You, Knighton, destroyed the face of the poor woman,

so that doubt should be cast on her identity.

And then somewhere in the darkness,

you dropped from the train.

In your pocket was the Heart of Fire.

As the train approached the Gare de Lyon,

the steward knocked at the compartment door,

and it was opened.

Would Mme. Kettering be dining?

Non. She would prefer the dinner tray.

And for the maid, nothing.

She would be putting her off at the next stop.

Your disguise, Ada Mason, it was good.

And even Poirot, until he compared the hair

of the woman who was murdered with the hair torn from the wig,

even Poirot, he was deceived.

For, although you made certain I observed you

at the Gare de Lyons, you did not leave the train.

Non. You reboarded it.

You did not leave until Marseilles.

You stayed on board thus far to receive the dinner tray

in the guise of your employer.

But now there was sufficient distance

from the time and place of the murder.

You could leave the corpse to be discovered.

Facts.

The night in question, Ada Mason stays at the George V Hotel.

Who says so?

Major Knighton.

But neither of you were there,

because you were here, on the Blue Train

murdering Madame Ruth Kettering.

Were you not?

KATHERINE: Monsieur Poirot.

He has something at my throat.

A razor blade, I think.

We're leaving now.

Let them go. Let them go.

Please...

Please don't let him kill me.

Please!

KNIGHTON: No closer!

[ Breathing heavily]

Shall you forgive me?

What?

[ Screaming ]

Run!

Kill her!

- KATHERINE: [Gasps] - MASON: Kill her!

[Grunts]

[ Sobs]

[ Insects chirping ]

[Train whistle blows]

[ Men shouting, train approaching ]

A tight spot, Katherine.

[ Gasps ]

[ Rattling ]

But I've known worse.

POIROT: Knighton!

Knighton!

Knighton. Knighton.

Let her go.

The greatest jewel thief in living memory, by all means.

But do not be the mere lunatic.

Sharper than a diamond, Katherine.

Redder than blood.

[Train approaching]

[ Screams ]

[ Sobs]

[ Birds, insects chirping]

M. Poirot.

Mlle. Grey.

Oh, do you leave the Riviera?

I think it's probably time.

When do you depart?

The train doesn't go until this afternoon.

Et bien.

Immédiatement, Poirot will go

and pack his meager possessions and join you.

Actually, I'm not planning to go back to London just yet.

It's peculiar, really, given everything that's happened,

but I've discovered I rather like travel.

So I'm going to keep going a bit.

Oh, but of course. Oui.

I'm going to go to Vienna.

I'm picking up the Orient Express.

The idea thrills me.

But I expect you've been on it millions of times.

Not once.

But I must.

You've been so very kind to me, monsieur.

You're a very dear man.

A first-class avuncular.

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