Original subtitles

Community Chest.

"You've won second prize in a beauty contest.

Collect �10."

Thank you very much, Hastings.

It would appear that skill

plays but a little part in this game, huh?

It's all about skill -- what to buy and when...

where to put your property.

My name is Wu Ling.

Han Wu Ling. I have a reservation.

Ah, yes.

Mr. Wu Ling, uh, Room 306.

You have a box of matches, please?

Certainly, sir.

If you wouldn't mind, sir.

I will build a hotel on Fenchurch Street.

You can't build a hotel on a railway station.

Do not be absurd, Hastings.

There are plenty of hotels at railway stations.

But... that's not in the rules.

Well, then, Hastings, the rules are wrong!

Houses and hotels cannot be mortgaged?

"All buildings at the site must be sold back to the bank

before the property can be mortgaged.

The bank will pay one-half of what was paid for them."

That is insane, quite insane.

Oh, the signs had been there in the markets for months.

A fool could have seen it coming.

I'm not surprised they went under.

Another tragedy on the Serpentine?

Another suicide, Mr. Poirot.

The Imperial Trust collapse.

It's hardly been out of the news.

Big investment company.

Promised its shareholders 100% dividend.

They took a straight nosedive.

A lot of folk have been completely wiped out.

Well, if you put your head in the mouth of a lion,

you cannot complain if one day he bites it off, huh?

I say -- R.T. Zebs at 7 and 6.

Do you think I should switch now or hold tight a little longer?

Well, my view is that they're --

I am off now to the bank.

I shall return at lunchtime.

Never made a speculative investment in his life.

And I still have my head, Hastings.

-Good morning. -Good morning.

-Glad you could make it. -Not at all.

Hello. How's the boy?

-Well, good. -Fine, thank you.

Have Mr. Wu Ling sent straight up here when he arrives.

Thank you.

Oh, there's a gentleman called 'round to see you, sir.

He's in the lounge.

Thank you.

Perhaps we should telephone his hotel.

Right.

St. James Hotel.

-Can I have my key, please? -Yes?

Mr. Wu Ling?

Thank you.

Yes, he was around here a moment ago.

If you'd like to hold on, I'll go and have a look.

-My bill, please. -One moment, sir.

Sir.

-Bonjour. -Sir.

My name is Poirot.

I would like to ascertain, if you please,

the exact balance in my account.

Here is my number.

All right. Certainly, sir. One moment, please.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Mais non! C'est impossible!

How can I be �50 overdrawn?

It is a point of principle that I always keep my balance

at �444, 4 shillings, and 4 pence.

A point of principle.

I shall check it once more, sir.

It's all right, sir. He's here.

Wilkins is bringing him up now.

Oh, well, thank goodness for that.

No. I -- No, this isn't Mr. Wu Ling.

I'm most dreadfully sorry.

There's been a misunderstanding.

I do apologize. It's our fault.

I've rechecked the figures, sir, and it's a mistake.

-You're not overdrawn by �50. -Ah.

I'm afraid you're overdrawn by �60.

There's no doubt this time, I'm afraid, sir. It's --

Mon Dieu! This is an outrage!

I shall take this to the highest level!

Do you hear me?

Nobody makes Poirot look a fool where money is concerned!

�100.

�200.

�300.

�400.

�500.

�600.

Not your night tonight, old man.

Perhaps it is because I do not huff and puff all over the dice

like the wheezing grandpas.

-Mr. Poirot? -Yes?

You have a visitor.

A visitor? At this hour?

It's Lord Pearson... from your bank.

Lord Pearson? My bank?

Ah!

My bank!

Mr. Poirot, I-I can't apologize enough.

I am very pleased to hear you say so personally.

Oh, uh, yes, uh, I realize it's a little late, but you see --

Not at all, not at all, Lord Pearson.

It is better late than never, as you English say.

Please do take a seat, huh?

And may I offer you a drink?

Oh, dry sherry. Thank you. You see --

Hastings, a little something for you, my friend?

Oh, fine. Thank you.

This is a matter of such vital concern to us all

that I don't think that I or any of the bank's directors

will sleep easily in our beds until it's been sorted out.

Well, I must admit that I had not seen it in quite that light,

but, um, yes, Lord Pearson, I have to agree with you.

It is certainly most vital.

Oh, you, uh...

You know about the disappearance of Mr. Wu Ling, then?

M. Wu Ling?

Ah.

Hastings, be so kind as to pour me a little brandy, hmm?

Do you have any idea what this is, Mr. Poirot?

Some kind of mineral ore?

Not much to look at,

but smelt this down and burn off the lead impurities,

and you're left holding a nugget of top-grade 24-karat silver.

Indeed.

And this came from where?

About 200 miles inland from Rangoon,

deep in the Burmese mountains.

There's an old mine.

The Chinese worked it for 300 years, until 1878.

Then it collapsed, became lost to view.

For half a century, men have died,

gone mad trying to find it again to seize its riches.

So far it's eluded them all.

And this M. Ling, he has some bearing on this lost mine?

It appears there's a map.

Of the mine's location?

It was handed down to Wu Ling through his family.

This week he came here to sell it to us.

Arrangements were made for him to meet the board this morning

to discuss a price.

And he did not appear as planned, huh?

Exactly.

And yet we know he arrived off the boat at Southampton.

He got to the hotel all right,

and we know he left there this morning around 10:00.

Since then -- I've checked -- he hasn't been seen or heard of.

Something's gone wrong, Mr. Poirot.

I know something's gone wrong.

Hey, good time, Johnny?

Hey! Sailor!

Sailor Johnny.

I give you a good time.

Sailor, wait for me.

I'm nice girl.

I give you good time.

Come to my house.

Come to my house. Come on, Johnny.

You like me.

I'm nice girl.

It's him, all right.

Han Wu Ling, businessman from Rangoon.

That was the name in his wallet.

How can you be sure it is him, Chief Inspector?

Burmese authorities wired this photo over.

There was no sign of your map on him, I'm afraid.

I see.

And he was stabbed in the back, you say?

At least three times.

The wounds were rather peculiar --

consistent with some sort of curved Oriental knife

being used.

Ah, Lord Pearson.

I'm sorry to have called you away from your engagement, sir.

But Mr. Poirot here says you might be able to help us

with Mr. Ling's death.

You may rely on the Chief Inspector Japp, Lord Pearson.

He is the soul of discretion.

How well did you know this gentleman, sir?

Well, we've... never actually met.

Of course, we'd corresponded on a regular --

My God, I...

I just can't believe he's dead.

Do you suspect some kind of Chinese ritual killing?

Let's just say we're in treacherous waters here, Poirot,

very treacherous waters, indeed.

He seemed a quiet, well-behaved sort of gentleman.

Oriental, of course.

I see.

And this room's not been cleaned up

since the morning he left the hotel?

Well, there's been a lot to do.

-We've been short of staff -- -No, no.

It is all the better for the investigations

of the chief inspector.

Doesn't look hopeful.

Must have taken the map with him.

There's nothing more that I can --

Hello.

Hmm.

It's in Chinese, most of it.

Very sinister.

Ah, there's a name here in English.

Charles Lester.

Business associate, maybe.

There's nothing else for us in this room.

Come on, Poirot.

Uh, forgive me, but, uh, did you not say

that upon the day of his arrival,

M. Wu Ling asked you for a box of matches?

Yes, to light his cigarette.

That is most curious...

as he already had a full box in his suitcase.

Off you go.

Things are on the move, Poirot.

You've got a moment to come and see

some modern police work in action?

I think you'll find this interesting, Poirot.

It's a good deal more sophisticated

than anything they've got on the continent.

This is where it's all coordinated

with military precision.

The days of the bobby on the bicycle

are long gone, I'm afraid.

My dear Japp, this is truly most impressive.

Message understood.

Report as necessary. Out.

What are they doing?

Surveillance, Poirot.

-Unit 7 to Control. -We're on the trail of a --

7 to Control. Over.

Excuse me.

Control to Unit 7.

Reading you loud and clear.

State your position. Over.

Control to Unit 7.

Subject located at Chowcat Sauna,

Rupert Street, 0900 hours. Over.

Unit 7, stay with him and keep us informed.

Over and out.

It might be a false lead or it might not.

We've been making inquiries around that boat Wu Ling was on.

Found out he was seen in the company of this man.

Reginald Dyer.

Huh. Twice convicted of currency fraud.

And a known associate

of several criminal syndicates in Hong Kong.

Could be just the link we're looking for.

If he is, we'll have him.

There he is.

Unit 7 to Control.

Subject sighted emerging from Chowcat Sauna.

Hailing cab.

Entering vehicle.

I'm awaiting instructions. Over.

Stay on his tail, Unit 7, and report your itinerary.

Unit 8.

Come in, Unit 8. This is Control.

Unit 8 to Control. 8 to Control. Over.

Unit 8, subject heading towards city.

Proceed to rendezvous point. Over.

Message understood. Out.

Unit 8 to Control. 8 to Control.

I can see them now. We're on their tail. Over.

Unit 10. Unit 10.

Join cars 7 and 8.

We'll be one step ahead of him this time, all right.

You know where he's going, then?

No, but I fancy I can guess, Captain Hastings.

Chinatown.

Subjected has alighted and paid off taxi.

Subject seems to be waiting for someone.

Subject being joined by two Orientals, one with a briefcase.

Subject now being handed briefcase.

It's a probable pickup.

Cars 8 and 10...

...are you in position? Over.

Car 8 to Control. In position now, sir. Over.

Car 10 to Control. 10 to Control.

Moving into position. Over.

Subject moving on.

Steady, lads. Wait for it.

Control to units 7, 8, and 10.

Get him!

Reginald Dyer?

I must ask you to accompany me to the police station.

And I must warn you that anything you say

will be taken down and may be used in evidence against you.

We've got him.

Jolly good.

Good work, sir!

Jolly good.

Splendid, sir.

So you reckon this Reggie Dyer killed our Mr. Ling?

I'll know more when I've questioned him.

Are you coming along, Poirot?

The name you discovered in the notebook of M. Ling?

Charles Lester? We've tried him twice this morning. He was out.

Well, it may be of no worth, but --

Be my guest.

For the moment, I've got more important fish to fry.

Well, Hastings, while the chief inspector

is frying his important fish,

let us see what we can catch, huh?

Wu Ling, Wu Ling.

The name is one I recall.

Yes. Rangoon.

Right.

We'd done one or two deals together.

I guess he was just planning to look me up.

It'd be a natural thing to do.

And that's why he had my name written down in his book.

And yet he had not contacted you

since his arrival here in London.

You guys coming in here, this is the first I've heard of it.

Well, I thank you for your time, monsieur,

and we will disturb you no longer.

I really wish I could be more help.

I mean, I know you're like

one of England's top gumshoes, right?

I admire your work greatly.

Thank you.

Oh, you wrote this, Mr. Lester.

Take it. My compliments. You a speculator, too?

Well, I, uh, dabble -- you know, gilts, consoles.

Hastings?

Thank you. I'll study it with interest.

Right, and if you want me to suggest a few schemes,

my number is right on the back -- no obligation.

Good day, M. Lester.

So long, Hercule.

My dear fellow, I don't know anything about a map.

All I did was have a couple of drinks with the chap

on the boat back from Hong Kong.

Does that make me a murderer?

I suppose you won this on the Irish sweepstake.

You've got nothing on me, Japp.

Not a single shred of evidence to keep me here a minute longer.

Listen, Dyer, I'm going to nail your grubby little hide

if it takes from now until --

Mr. Dyer's solicitor, sir.

Don't worry, Mr. Dyer. This won't take long.

Do you recognize anybody in these photographs?

Hmm.

They're not very good quality, are they?

Never mind about the quality.

Is this the man who came for Mr. Ling or isn't it?

No.

No, it's definitely not him. Definitely not.

Hmm.

Well, stands to reason, I suppose.

Dyer's too cunning to show himself.

He'd have an accomplice.

Excuse me.

This M. Wu Ling, he spoke with the American accent, yes?

Um...

Yes, I believe he did, now you come to mention it.

Oh.

Thank you.

Shall we go?

American accent?

The Americans always put the month before the date, Hastings.

Ah.

Yes, they're very backward people.

You know, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll just pop back

and have another word with that chap Lester.

One or two of his schemes look quite interesting.

I must just -- Oh, damn.

Excuse me. I think one of you dropped this.

-Oh, thank you. -You're welcome.

Well, I'll be damned.

Something is the matter, monsieur?

It's him. No question about it.

This is the fellow that called to see Mr. Ling.

I, uh...

I guess I panicked. Uh...

When I read about the murder, you see...

This kind of thing, it's, uh, not exactly good for business.

Right now it's not exactly good for you.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay, this guy Ling...

uh, I lied about doing some deals with him before.

The fact is, I'd never met him.

I never heard of him before in my life.

Suddenly he just, uh, calls up out of the blue

and tells me he's just arrived in the country

and he, uh, has something I might be interested in.

And so you go to meet him at his hotel?

We have one drink, and then we go off in a cab somewhere --

some Chinese dive.

Well, uh, halfway through the meal,

he gets up to go use the phone and, uh, he never comes back.

That's the last I ever saw of him.

This Chinese dive -- They can verify your story, I hope.

Well...

I-I-I can't be exactly sure where it was.

The body of M. Ling was found in an alley near to the docks.

No.

No, it was, uh... nowhere near the docks.

I would have remembered.

You have to believe me. I-I didn't kill the guy.

I mean, why would I want to kill him?

Mr. Lester?

Uh, I, uh --

I have to go out now, uh, Miss Boerum.

Uh, I can't say when I'll be back.

Chinatown -- that's the key to this puzzle.

When we get to the root of it, we'll find it's the Tongs.

Ah, the Tongs, oui.

Do you know how many years I've been after those vermin now?

Seven.

Seven long years.

And this time they're not going to slip the leash.

You seem very sure of your ground, Chief Inspector.

Well, it all fits, doesn't it?

Reggie Dyer meets Ling on the boat,

finds out about the lost mine,

sells the information to these Oriental devils,

who then carve him up and make off with the map,

scuttling back to their evil nests down in the east end.

Not sure about this chap Lester.

He's a strange piece of work.

What do you say, Poirot?

In my opinion, there is but one solution --

to build a house on Whitechapel.

Eh?

Whitechapel? That's ambitious stuff, Poirot.

Quite certain?

Quite certain, thank you, Hastings.

Yes, indeed, Chief Inspector.

There are curious features about this case.

Par exemple, the cigarette stubs in the ashtray of M. Wu Ling.

Cigarette stubs?

The color of the ends. You observed it, of course.

Then there is the mystery of the matches in the suitcase.

Why does a man with a full box of matches

ask for another to light his cigarette?

Why does he?

Well, when we know that,

no doubt we will have our solution.

No doubt.

Well, good night, gentlemen.

Good night, Chief Inspector.

Inscrutable folk, the Chinese.

Quite so, Hastings.

Quite so.

Oh, has Chief Inspector Japp gone?

He has left just this second.

There's a phone call for him from a Mrs. Lester.

She sounds quite hysterical.

I will take it in here, Miss Lemon.

Hello? Mme. Lester?

Ma--

Madame, please, try to be calm, huh?

It is Hercule Poirot.

Yes.

You are certain?

Your husband left his office this afternoon by taxi

and he has not returned?

Ah. And to where has he taken this taxi?

I see.

Chinatown.

You're absolutely sure?

Oh, yes. They're peaking now.

But I've heard a whisper they may be riding for a fall.

Right.

So sell the --

Miss Lemon?

Not one telephone call this morning?

No.

This letter came second post.

Thank you.

So, what about the United Gold?

Well, that's a pretty solid blue chip.

In fact, you could do a lot worse than convert --

This is intolerable.

My check to the telephone company --

It has been returned by the bank.

They are threatening to cut us off.

Miss Lemon, get me the chairman of the telephone company

on the phone this instant.

I just do not understand it, Hastings.

My financial affairs have always been beyond reproach.

�444, 4 shillings, and 4 pence.

It is a point of principle, and now this?

Is my name to be dragged through the mud?

Good morning. Is Mr. Poirot in?

Yes, uh, it's Mrs...

Lester. Mrs. Charles Lester.

Car 1 to Control. Car 1 to Control.

Proceeding to Chinatown district

to interview a Mr. Ho, known associate of Reginald Dyer.

-Hey? -Mm-hmm.

Afternoon, gents.

Sorry to break up the fun,

but there's one or two questions we'd like to ask you.

We know Reggie Dyer's a friend of yours.

We know you've done business with him.

So let me put it this way, Mr. Ho.

You will be wanting your license for this place renewed?

Okay. Okay.

I'll tell you what I know about Mr. Dyer.

I just want him back, Mr. Poirot.

He's not an evil man.

I just wish I knew what was going on.

All I ask, madame, is that you tell me the truth

no matter how bad it may seem for your husband.

Well...

he's been a changed man for some months now.

Such different moods.

One moment so calm and relaxed, and then suddenly --

Oh, God, if you could see him!

And then... yesterday morning,

I was going through the wardrobe, and I found...

Yes, madame, what is it that you found?

His dark-blue suit.

The trousers were damp at the bottom, caked with dirt.

And then...

...this fell out of his jacket.

The passport of M. Wu Ling.

You said the truth, Mr. Poirot.

Yes, madame.

Come on, lads.

'Round the back.

Police.

Come on.

You wish to play, Chief Inspector?

No, thank you.

Over here, sir.

Excuse me.

What's this?

What did our friend across the road tell us, Jameson?

"The red eye," I think he said.

It's just a cellar, sir.

Storage facilities.

Really?

Oh, blimey.

What is it, sir?

Opium, Sergeant.

Passport to paradise.

Chow Feng, how's business?

Hello, Reggie.

Well, now, Reggie.

This is what I'd call being caught in the act.

Look.

There's been some mistake.

Brought back one or two holiday souvenirs

from the Far East, I see.

You're gonna need more than a clever Dick lawyer

to save your skin this time, my boy.

Sir.

Don't we know him?

Yes.

His name's Lester.

It would appear from this telegram

that Dyer has now been arrested for the smuggling of opium,

and Lester also has been found in the den.

That wraps it up, then.

Lester's already lied to us once,

and what his wife told us confirms it.

He murdered Ling and stole the map.

Case closed.

Yes.

�450, if you please, Hastings.

Of course, he's still in a deep coma.

They will not be able to question him for several hours.

Thank you.

Just one good throw -- That's all I need.

Ah.

A double.

Chance.

"Go to jail."

Wonderful.

You are right, Hastings. It is indeed wonderful.

Suddenly the whole thing has become perfectly clear.

Bien.

Where are we going now?

Officer.

Mr. Poirot?

Mr. Poirot!

Ah, Lord Pearson.

You have received my message.

Of course.

I came as soon as I could. What's happened?

There have been one or two developments, sir,

which I think you may be able to help us with.

For certain, anything I can.

Do we have him at last?

Do we have the killer?

Oh, yes.

We have the killer, mon ami.

This man is Mr. Charles Lester,

former business contact of Wu Ling

and part-time opium addict.

A couple of hours ago, we searched his office,

and we came up with this map,

which I'm sure you'll be able to identify for us

as the map to the lost silver mine.

Well, my Chinese isn't very good, Chief Inspector,

but, uh, whatever this is, it isn't the map to the mine.

It's more like some page from an atlas or something.

An atlas?

Well, it looks like you don't have a shred of evidence

to keep me here, Inspector.

Am I correct?

In which case, I take it I'm free to go?

I think not, monsieur.

If you did not kill M. Wu Ling,

perhaps you can explain...

how your wife came to find this in your jacket pocket?

I don't have any idea.

Look, I-I didn't kill this --

Of course he killed him!

There's your evidence right there -- Wu Ling's passport.

But I did not say it was the passport of M. Wu Ling,

my friend, so how could you possibly have known?

Well, God damn it! I can see what it is from here!

Indeed, but this is not a passport, no.

It is a set of rules for the game of Monopoly.

But you just...

Lord Pearson...

I'm afraid you're under arrest for murder.

You set this whole thing up.

Brought me here to identify the map.

But you already have the map, mon ami.

You stole it from M. Wu Ling on the very day of his arrival

when you had him brutally killed by your Chinese thugs.

Oh, yes.

Lord Pearson knows Chinatown well.

He himself likes to gamble here in the Red Dragon,

where M. Lester is also the frequent visitor

to the casino's opium dens.

Each night you satisfy your passion for gambling,

Lord Pearson, as each night M. Lester

satisfies his craving for the drug.

Here, amidst the smoke and sweat of the Red Dragon,

dark dreams are dreamed and dark thoughts become the reality.

The weakness of the other man begins to fascinate you.

And one evening when you have gambled and lost

even more heavily than usual,

you see how to make use of it.

You devise a plan to frame M. Lester for the crime.

First, you arrange for one of your accomplices

to pose as M. Wu Ling and check in at his hotel.

My name is Wu Ling.

Han Wu Ling.

I have a reservation.

In order to match M. Wu Ling,

he has to blacken the teeth,

and, of course, the color comes off

on the end of the cigarettes.

You have a box of matches, please?

He asks for a box of matches

because, of course, he does not know that he already has one.

Remember, it was not his suitcase.

The name and address of M. Lester

is then carefully planted into the notebook of M. Wu Ling

for the police to find later.

The next day, M. Lester is summoned to the hotel,

believing it to be the business meeting,

and knowing his weakness for opium,

the accomplice lures him to the Red Dragon.

Hopelessly drugged, the poor M. Lester

is dumped beside the body of M. Wu Ling...

...where you place into his pocket

the passport of the victim.

He comes to.

He sees the body.

And what is he to think?

That he has committed murder under the influence of the drug.

You see, my friend, you made one little error early on,

which alerted my suspicion.

You told the security guard at the bank,

"No, this is not M. Wu Ling."

No, this isn't Mr. Wu Ling.

An interesting statement, n'est-ce pas?

From someone who claimed never to have met him in his life.

Well, we've never actually met.

But it is not only here in the Red Dragon

that you like to gamble, Lord Pearson.

Also, I understand, on the stock exchange, yes?

The collapse of the Imperial Trust

must have hit you very hard.

And the sale of the map

would have more than compensated for your losses.

Lord Pearson.

Good morning.

Good morning, Miss Lemon.

You're in the high spirits today.

Yes. My shares are up another 9 1/2 points.

-Isn't it wonderful? -Ah.

I thought I advised you to sell yesterday.

I know, but Mr. Poirot advised me to wait.

Well, lunch is on.

Thank you very much, Miss Lemon.

Oh, Mr. Poirot.

I say...

Yes, Miss Lemon, the tables,

they have been turned around, have they not?

No, no, this envelope.

This is the check from Lord Avebury

for the naval secrets case.

This should have gone into your account 10 days ago.

Miss Lemon, you're in the right.

Ah! This is the reason I am overdrawn.

I think I better pop down to the bank

with this right away, don't you?

So, the bank's figures were right after all, were they?

Usually are, I'm afraid.

Incroyable.

And to think, all this time...

Ah! Rent, Hastings.

�2,000, if you please.

Thank you.

You know, mon ami...

about this game, you were right all the time.

It is the skill that counts in the end.