Original subtitles

Isn't it bracing, Poirot?

Bracing, Hastings?

The weather.

No, it is cold and wet.

Did you know, Hastings,

that the earth is cooling at a rate of 3 degrees

every 12,000 years?

No, I didn't know that. No.

Ah.

Still, beautiful fountain, isn't it?

It's feeble, Hastings.

Fountains used to be more vigorous.

Artistic, too.

I don't know what's wrong with you today, Poirot.

Nothing seems good enough for you.

I am finished, Hastings.

-Finished? -Yes.

I shall retire, I think.

But you're at the height of your powers, Poirot.

You are being kind, Hastings.

No, I'm not.

And you've got a nice home, devoted friends,

a brilliant career.

No, no, no, no, mon ami.

I am nothing.

I have nothing.

Poirot is finished.

A penny for the guy, miss?

It's only the beginning of October.

You want to avoid the seasonal rush, don't you?

Where's the guy, anyway?

Out the front.

Come and have a look if you don't believe us.

The old basket downstairs won't let us in with the guy.

-Go on! -Stop already!

You get off! If I catch you in here again...

As soon as your back's turned.

You got them out of a penny.

Oh, a good thing, too.

You don't want to go wasting your money encouraging them.

Oh, I shan't, Mr. Dicker.

Well, I've got a lot of work to do.

You know, I don't know what their parents

can be thinking about.

Oh, indeed.

Well, duty calls, Mr. Dicker.

Yes.

Well, if you have any trouble, you just come to me.

I'm worried about Poirot, Miss Lemon.

He's talking about retirement.

That's because he hasn't had an interesting case for 5 minutes.

I must have had my keys to let myself in.

Is that all it is?

That and the fact someone said he was middle-aged.

Trouble is Mr. Dicker kept talking.

Well, he's always been middle-aged.

Have you seen that photograph of him at his christening?

I know.

He looks as though he's about to address a board meeting.

Who looks as if he's about to address a board meeting?

Oh, uh, this fellow I know.

Funny chap.

Well, not funny. Quite serious, really.

-Company director. -Hastings.

-As a matter of fact -- -Hastings.

Right.

I'm going to take you to the seaside, Hastings.

Your little gray cells are exhausted.

You are in need of the complete overhaul.

Miss Lemon, my tisane, if you please.

Merci.

Ah, this is very nice, Poirot.

I wonder where the links are.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

Hastings, you are not yet well enough for games.

I shall tell you when you are.

Strange that it's called the Midland Hotel

when it's in the north, Poirot.

Whitcomb is the place for health.

Phillip, I've got some more shells.

I do hope you're feeling better, Hastings.

Well, we've only been here half an hour.

Ah, yes, but the air here is renowned.

Look at the horses.

Coats of the highest gloss.

Reminds me of a horse I backed in the Cheltenham Gold Cup.

Started at 5 to 1. Came in at quarter past 2:00.

Huh.

Oh, that is not very good, surely.

No. No, it's a joke, Poirot.

Good, Hastings. You see?

Already you begin to make the jokes, hmm?

Sometime you must explain to me this joke.

Yes.

I say, look at that.

"My greatest cases.

A lecture by the renowned Chief Inspector James Japp

of Scotland Yard."

Well, we are not interested, Hastings.

We have other fowl to fry, huh?

No, I'd like to hear that.

-"Admission, 1 shilling." -Oh, mon Dieu.

That is a lot of money to hear the Chief Inspector Japp.

Hmm.

"Women's Institute, Sandringham Street,

Thursday, 8:30."

Fancy old Japp being up here.

There you are, madam.

That's very reasonable.

Windermere for 1 and 6.

Reasonable if one wants to go to Windermere.

-Ticket to Windermere, please. -It's very pretty there.

Why don't we give it a go?

I've heard there's a pleasant hotel, nice bed and breakfast.

At what time does the train leave?

I don't think it's a train.

A bus, Hastings?

No, no, no, no, no.

Poirot does not travel on buses.

Oh, come on, Poirot. It'll be fun.

I say.

What a rude fellow.

He rather interested me.

Well, if sheer bad manners interests you.

He interested me because he was growing a mustache

and has yet...

You do notice the most extraordinary things, Poirot.

But a growing of the mustache is an art, Hastings.

I have sympathy with all who attempt it.

We were very lucky to get these, you know.

There.

Oh.

Twelve miniatures of Napoleon's marshals

by Jean-Baptiste Jacques Augustin.

They're beautiful.

Each one has a lock of the subject's hair in the back

and his name written on the ivory.

Isn't that strange?

Now, you're certain you know what to do?

Of course I am.

It'll be all right.

The box will be locked in my suitcase all the way,

and nobody will even see it.

Till the appropriate time, of course.

Of course.

You don't need to worry, you know.

I know, my dear, but this is your first big commission.

That silver tea service was quite big.

There was a lot of it.

I was quite worried

that you wouldn't be able to carry it all.

And I have to be so careful these days.

Well, I'm all packed.

Shall I put the box in my suitcase?

Oh, no. No, no. Leave it here till the morning.

What time does your coach leave?

Half past 9:00.

Don't worry.

Thank you very much.

Telegraph, please.

Certainly, sir.

Thank you.

Reception.

Japp.

Ah, hello, Captain Hastings.

This is a pleasant surprise.

I see you're giving a lecture here tomorrow.

Hmm. Tonight, too, in Fleetwood.

Friday, Barrow-in-Furness for the Benevolent Fund, you know.

Good morning, Hastings.

Well, well.

Prepared for the northern climate, eh, Poirot?

Good morning, Chief Inspector.

Hastings, the coach leaves in 5 minutes.

What's got into him?

I'll be at Redburn at 12:40.

I don't want to have to hang about, but...

No. I know.

I know you've got the more difficult job.

We'll make it.

Don't worry.

I'll wait for you where we arranged.

Just so long as there isn't any fuss.

No.

Look, I've got to go now or I'll miss the bus.

Yes.

You too.

Anything else, ma'am?

Why were you so beastly to Japp, Poirot?

Beastly, Hastings?

It's not these lectures he's giving, is it?

Lectures?

Where can we put our luggage, please?

Luggage around the back.

Ohh.

Oh. Sorry again.

You blind or something?

What a rude man.

Bonjour, mademoiselle.

Oh, bonjour.

Morning. May I?

Uh... thank you.

That's all right. It wasn't heavy.

All aboard now. All aboard.

So you work for your aunt, Miss Durrant.

Yes.

We specialize in beautiful, quality antiques.

Of course, I'm still only learning the business.

I'm sure mademoiselle will be very successful.

Some of them are worth an awful lot of money.

I was surprised.

My aunt's got clients all over the world.

Ah, so she travels a great deal, huh?

Oh, no, not at all.

If someone wants a particular period table or chair

or a certain piece of china,

they write to her and she gets it for them.

That's what's happened in this case.

How do you mean?

Well, my aunt got a very valuable set of miniatures

for an American collector.

He's over here on a buying trip.

He's staying in a hotel in Windermere.

And if he likes them, then he'll buy them?

I hope so.

I'll have to be ever so careful on the return journey.

I'll have �1,500 in my bag, in cash.

Excuse me.

Thank you. Sorry.

They have no tisane, Hastings?

Uh, no. No. They usually do, but...

You did not ask, Hastings, did you?

I couldn't, Poirot.

Never will he ask for the tisane for me.

I don't know what a tisane is.

It's a sort of horrible herb tea.

There's such a scrum out there.

They've only got one chap serving.

Excuse me.

Where has she hurried off to, the little one?

Oh, some women's thing, I expect.

Ah.

Grand girl, isn't she?

Yes, she is very nice, Hastings.

I noticed her eyes. A very unusual color.

Oh, most unusual, Hastings.

It is called blue, I think.

Hastings, why do those people keep staring at me

and push each other and laugh?

I don't think they've ever seen

anyone quite like you before, Poirot.

Ah.

Ohh.

Where's Miss Durrant?

Hope she doesn't miss the coach.

Why, she is silly, but perhaps not that silly.

Silly?

Well, to tell two perfect strangers

that she will shortly be carrying �1,500 in her bag

is not the height of sagacity, mon ami.

I'm so sorry, rushing off like that.

I was worried about the miniatures.

I thought I saw a man taking my suitcase out of the coach.

I went flying after him, and it turned out to be his own.

I felt such a fool.

So your case is all right?

Oh, yes. It's still in the boot.

His is exactly like mine, though.

What man was it, mademoiselle?

It was that man who was so rude.

You know, the one with a sort of mustache.

That is quite curious.

Why did he want his suitcase?

He's staying here in Redburn.

More curious and more curious.

He was happy to pay the full fare to Windermere.

I happened to see his ticket when he presented it.

Poirot loves a mystery even when there isn't one.

It used to be my profession, Hastings.

You have heard of me perhaps, mademoiselle?

You're not that conjurer, are you?

Perhaps I am.

No.

I'm at Redburn.

No, no.

It's all going according to plan at my end.

No trouble at all.

Well, just as soon as you can, for God's sake.

The sooner we're out of the area, the better.

No. It's all right.

I'll take that.

Right.

No, no. Just someone wanted to take my case.

Yes. Don't be long.

Captain Hastings.

Captain Hastings!

Oh, I'm sorry.

The most awful thing's happened.

What?

They've gone.

The miniatures?

Come and look.

I opened my suitcase.

The miniatures were in this dispatch case inside.

Look. The lock's just smashed.

Was it like this when you opened it?

Yes.

I don't know what to do.

Poirot.

Don't worry, Miss Durrant.

You stay here. We'll sort things out.

What are we gonna do?

Mon ami, I am Hercule Poirot, detective retired.

I cannot help you, I'm afraid.

I had to stay here all night.

I've looked everywhere.

You haven't got spare keys?

Of course I haven't.

I thought you might have a passkey.

No, no. Not me.

You'd get accusations, wouldn't you? Suspicions.

You'll have to change the locks.

Oh, I can't.

Mr. Poirot would never forgive me

if he found out I'd lost the keys.

I can't stay here another night.

Hmm.

And these miniature pictures

are worth, like, �1,500, you say?

Yes, at least.

The thief's getting away while we waste time.

He won't get far, miss. Don't you fret.

It's brains and cunning that counts in this job,

not brute speed.

I've just spoken to Mr. Wood, the American.

A woman called on him two hours ago, I'm afraid.

Mr. Wood was delighted with the miniatures

and paid her for them.

But that's before we arrived here.

Well, a fast car from Redburn

would have got here long before us.

Oh, it's all my fault.

Look, Miss Durrant, you can leave this with me.

You get on back to Whitcomb and explain things to your aunt.

Right.

And, uh, PC Flagg and I will go and interview Mr. J. Baker Wood.

I'll have to talk to the sergeant first, sir.

Time, gentlemen.

Come on. Drink up.

You look terrific.

I scarcely recognized you in that getup.

That's the idea, just in case they got wind of us.

It's wonderful to see you.

I thought we'd never make it.

Did you have any trouble getting away?

None at all, as it happens.

Just walked out the door, put the case in the car,

and drove off.

I was shaking.

I expected to hear a shout at any moment.

We've done it.

So far.

You're the cleverest girl in the world,

as well as the most beautiful.

She's gonna cop it from her auntie, that girl.

Sounds a bright one, she does,

leaving all that stuff on the bus

while she goes off and has her dinner.

Well, it was in the boot of the coach, actually.

One or two interesting points about this case, you know.

Oh, yes?

Well, why was the dispatch case forced open, for instance?

Well, to get these here little pictures out.

But why?

Surely, it would have been simpler

to open Miss Durrant's suitcase,

transfer the dispatch case unopened to his own suitcase,

and get away rather than waste time forcing the lock.

Well, she'd have noticed the difference in weight

as soon as she took the suitcase out the boot, wouldn't she?

Leaves a lot less time to make his escape.

Oh.

Well... yes.

There is that.

Of course I didn't suspect anything.

Why should I?

She said she came from Elizabeth Penn.

She had the miniatures.

May we see the miniatures, please, Mr. Wood?

I guess so.

We'll need a description of this woman, too, sir.

Description?

Was she young, pretty?

No, sir.

She most certainly was not young or pretty.

She was tall and elderly.

Gray hair.

She had a blotchy complexion and a budding mustache.

A siren? Not on your life.

How did she arrive at the hotel, Mr. Wood?

On a hotel ferry.

-There. -Ah.

Yes.

I see.

Very nice.

Well, it's $7,000 for 12 of those beauties.

I'll tell you. That's some bargain.

I'll be taking that, sir.

What do you mean?

Evidence of a crime, sir.

Well, hey, you got to be kidding.

You'll get a receipt.

Denzel?

We have to assure ourselves who the rightful owner is.

What do you mean rightful owner? I'm the rightful owner.

I'm $7,000 worth the rightful owner!

That's not for me to say, sir.

Then don't say it. I'll say it for you.

Those are my goddamn miniatures!

That's for the court to decide, sir.

You mean you have to come from the railway station

by boat?

The station's on the other side of the lake.

-There. -Oh, I see.

Now, mind the step.

Ah. Good.

-Good day. -Morning.

Mr. Arkwright?

Aye, sir.

Did you bring an elderly lady to the lake hotel today?

I bring lots of old ladies, sir.

Tall, gray hair, bit of a mustache?

Oh, I picked her up at station at 12 minutes past 1:00.

How are you so sure of the time?

Because the Lancaster 10:00 gets in at 1:00,

and it arrived at 10 past.

Does that train stop at Redburn?

Redburn? No.

That's on Moatbrook Line. "Stop at Redburn?"

Mary Durrant arrived at Redburn at about 10 past 12:00.

I mean, we know that. We were with her.

An hour later, an old lady is here in Windermere

with the miniatures

and on her way to Wood's hotel.

Now, I'm sure it was the fellow

with a bit of a mustache

dressed up.

He could have got from Redburn to Windermere in an hour

in a fast car.

But the old lady didn't arrive by car.

She got off a train,

and a train that doesn't go near Redburn at that.

Hastings...

why do you not grow the mustache?

What?

I did not achieve true facial symmetry

until I grew the mustache.

It caused me great unhappiness as a young man.

I don't want facial symmetry. I want help.

Oh, well, I am retired, Hastings.

Such puzzles no longer interest me.

I think I will go back to Whitcomb in the morning.

Oh, all right.

Hastings?

Hmm?

The fact that the ferryman picked her up at the station

does not necessarily mean that she got off a train.

If she didn't come on a train, how did she come?

Who knows?

Hastings, you have done well.

But you will be on this case a long time, I think.

Don't I know it.

Right.

I'm going back to Redburn in the morning.

Reconstruct the crime. That's the thing.

Start from the beginning.

Start of a new life.

I don't think much can go wrong now.

I'll wait for you in the car.

There you are, sir.

There's your change.

Thanks.

Come back and see us again, won't you?

So, as I see it, it started here.

This fellow with a bit of a mustache

had an accomplice with a fast car who drove him to Windermere

while he got dressed up as a woman in the back seat.

Need to be a pretty sporty car to do that journey in the time.

Well, something like that, you mean?

It's him!

Stop!

Don't stop!

Come on. Get in!

This is a patrol car, not a chase car.

Get in!

Come on! Come on! Get out of the way!

Move over!

Go on! Out! Out of the way!

There's nowhere they can turn off for a bit,

not till they get to Beckersdale.

They have turned.

Well, I'm blessed.

Won't get them very far. It's a dead end, that is.

Only goes to Henry's Gate, doesn't it?

I hope we don't meet anyone coming the other way.

My God.

-Come on. -Come on, Sarge.

-Right. -Come on, lad.

-Come along, madam. -Out you come.

Why can't you leave me alone?

Don't you know what it's like to love a man?

Well, uh... no. Uh, not exactly.

Sergeant?

Come along. No trouble.

Oh, it's you again, is it?

I might have known.

Come along, sir.

Why should I help you?

Because that way we might get your money back.

I'm gonna get my money back, all right.

My attorney's on his way up here from London.

-Look, if we could just -- -All right.

Can we just get on with it?

Ready.

Well?

No.

Right.

Ready.

Take your hat off.

Well?

No.

Don't hurry.

I mean, take a good look.

I mean, imagine him dressed up as a woman --

hat, skirt, all that sort of thing.

It's not him.

But he's got a mustache.

You said she had a mustache.

The woman who showed me the miniatures

was nothing like that.

She didn't have a mole like that.

Like what?

Well, that mole on his forehead, for God sake.

Couldn't hide that.

Oh.

Wait a minute.

Oh, no.

That's... Lady Amanda Manderley.

Who?

Well, don't you guys read the papers?

I mean, she's eloping with that novelist.

Um... Norton Kane.

Are you Norton Kane?

So good of you to come with me, Mr. Poirot.

No, no, no. Not at all, my dear.

How could I possibly leave such a charming young lady

in so great distress?

But perhaps now that I am here,

I can help you to explain this delicate matter to your aunt.

Oh, thank you so much.

Mary? Is that you?

How did it go?

I've got Mr. Poirot with me, Aunt Elizabeth.

We came back to Whitcomb on the bus together.

Mr. Poirot's a famous detective.

Do you think I don't know that?

Oh, you are too kind.

But something terrible's happened, Aunt Elizabeth.

I don't really know how to tell you.

I regret to inform you that your miniatures...

they have been stolen.

Stolen?

But how could they be stolen?

Where were they stolen from?

They were stolen from the bus

when we stopped for lunch at Redburn.

But have no fear.

It will not be long before the miscreants are apprehended.

Don't give us away to my father, will you?

Oh, no, of course not.

Whereabouts are you headed?

Can't tell you.

Cheer up, Captain Hastings.

Oh, yes.

I'm sure you'll catch your robber.

Yes, well...

with our one and only suspect gone,

I'm damned if I know how we're gonna catch him,

eh, Captain Hastings?

I think I'll start with the fish soup

followed by the haddock.

Try and shake up the old gray cells a bit.

You see, what I can't understand is,

if Norton Kane wasn't the woman with the mustache, who was?

You have done your best, Hastings.

The renowned Chief Inspector Japp

would have given up long ago.

Thank you.

You're not jealous, Poirot, are you?

Japp being asked to give these lectures?

Jealous?

Nom de Dieu.

Of what interest is it to Poirot,

the Whitcomb Institution for Women, hein?

If it was a Royal Society, now, ah,

but then I hardly think that Chief Inspector Japp

would be invited by the Royal Society.

No, no, no.

It is only the Institution for Women at Whitcomb

and such places

that they will listen to the Chief Inspector Japp

claiming the cases of Hercule Poirot for his own.

Oh, I'm sure Japp wouldn't do that.

Hastings, can we please talk of something else?

The renowned Chief Inspector Japp is of no interest.

No, thank you.

I'm gonna see Mary Durrant tomorrow.

Here we are.

Perhaps you should bring Mlle. Durrant and her aunt

and M. J. Baker Wood face � face, huh,

and discuss this thing.

No, I don't see what good that'll do.

I don't know what I'm gonna say to her and her aunt, anyway.

Sleep is the thing, Hastings.

For myself, I fully intend to get to bed

immediately after dinner,

and I strongly advise you to do the same.

Ready to order, sir?

Have a light?

Evening, sir.

Good evening, Constable.

"Don't Put Your Daughter on the Stage, Mrs. Worthington."

A fine song by Mr. Noel Coward.

And the same holds true for the police force...

Pardon.

...the detection business

because detection is a darned lonely business,

and detectives are perhaps inclined to be lone wolves,

if you'll pardon the expression.

And at the conclusion of a case,

there are always other parties not of the police force

who will claim to have solved it.

I refer, of course, to that bane of the policeman's life,

the amateur sleuth,

or worse still, the professional private detective.

The professional private detective, ladies and gentlemen,

is not the glamorous figure of fiction.

He is a man who, failing in more worthy walks of life

and being of meddlesome and troublemaking disposition,

finally comes to rest in a dingy office over the chip shop,

where he plies for hire

in the sordid world of petty crime and divorce.

Except, I have to say, for one.

I have been fortunate in my career

in that many, indeed, perhaps most of my cases,

have been shared

with that most extraordinary of private detectives.

And if I may borrow a word from his own native tongue,

that doyen of the Belgian police force,

M. Hercule Poirot.

I think I may say without fear of contradiction

that Hercule Poirot has one of the most original minds

of the 20th century.

Intelligent, brave,

sensitive, devastatingly quick,

Hercule Poirot stands head and shoulders

above any other detective of my considerable experience.

I say, Miss Lemon,

I'm fearfully worried about the keys.

Order and method, Miss Lemon.

Order and method.

The Lagonda's got a hole in it, Miss Lemon.

The filly's on fire, and the keys are bent.

The little gray cells, Miss Lemon.

Reconstruct the scene of the crime, mon amie.

Come up to door.

Take keys out of bag.

Unlock door.

Penny for the guy, miss?

-I come in. -You get off!

Dicker follows, still talking.

"Shouldn't encourage them, wasting all your money."

Oh.

Oh, it works.

It really works.

Come, now, Hastings.

Tell me where you stand in this case

and Poirot will do his humble best to assist you.

No. It's no good.

I don't stand anywhere with the case, really.

Anyway, I'm the one who's got to face the music.

Well...

Captain Hastings.

Hello, Miss Durrant.

Have you got some news?

Well, uh, no, not really.

No, I understand.

Hello, M. Poirot.

Mademoiselle.

I haven't given up yet.

The shop of your aunt is beautiful, mademoiselle.

Well, she'd love to see you if you can spare a moment.

We would be delighted.

M. Poirot's here, Aunt Elizabeth,

and Captain Hastings.

Oh, how nice.

Have you managed to retrieve our miniatures for us, M. Poirot?

Pardon, mademoiselle.

It is Captain Hastings who is in charge of this affair.

And he hasn't, I'm afraid.

Well, we've found them, all right,

but we can't retrieve them.

Mr. Wood says he bought them in good faith, so they're his.

So he's still got them.

No, the police have taken them.

Well, I'll get them back in due course.

That depends on what the court decides.

It would help if we could catch the thief.

Oh, my God.

What is it, Captain Hastings?

I've got it.

I've got it! I've got it!

Miss Penn, I can get your miniatures back.

You may be able to help, too.

Excuse me.

Hastings, wait.

Come on, Poirot!

What on earth are you playing at, Hastings?

I've got it, Poirot!

What? What have you got?

The answer to this case.

It must have been the haddock!

I feel wonderful!

Hastings!

I'll see you in the hotel later.

Oh!

As soon as I said it, I knew.

Who knew Miss Durrant was on her way with the miniatures?

Who could have found out

she'd be stopping at Redburn at lunchtime,

and who had a fast car to get into Windermere?

I don't know. Who?

J. Baker Wood himself, of course.

Really?

I don't believe any woman ever came to see him.

I think he went to Redburn and stole the miniatures himself.

Hmm. What about the ferryman?

Well, all he said was he'd picked up a woman at the station

and taken her to the lake hotel.

I imagine he takes a dozen women a day to the lake hotel.

All right.

But I don't know what you're going to do.

Well, it's quite simple, really.

You see, Wood has never met Miss Penn or Miss Durrant.

I've asked him to come over from Windermere.

Now, when he sees this beautiful young girl

and her aunt in a wheelchair...

What?

Well, he's gonna feel pretty damn small, I can tell you.

Really?

Oh, yes.

I mean, even a hardened criminal like him

isn't entirely without a heart, Japp.

Come on.

If you'd like to follow me,

there's a table for two over by the window.

-How lovely. -Thank you.

I hope they're not gonna be late.

The timing's absolutely crucial.

Since I am not going to be told

what is going on in this case of yours, Hastings,

I can make no intelligent contribution

to any discussion of it.

It was your idea you didn't want anything to do with it.

It was my idea also to bring together these three people --

M. Wood, Mlle. Durrant, and Mlle. Penn.

Oh, I don't remember that.

Now, now.

Here you are.

Thanks.

We could have another plate of them sandwiches.

You should have made them last.

I thought the property was coming later.

Ready?

Right. Steady, steady, now.

Here we go, Sarge.

-What? -They've arrived.

The old one in the wheelchair, like you said.

I should be sitting there.

It's no good, me sitting here. I can't see nothing.

How good of you to come, Miss Penn.

Do sit down, Miss Durrant.

What a handsome room.

This is Chief Inspector Japp of Scotland Yard.

How exciting.

How do you do?

Why don't you sit next to M. Poirot, Miss Penn?

Mademoiselle.

Aunt Elizabeth was so hoping you'd have good news for us.

Well, I hope so, too.

Is that all?

Just hope?

It's all right, Mary, dear.

Oh, the dear child.

She's so protective on my behalf.

Mlle. Penn, may I offer you something to eat

or a cup of tea?

I'd love a cup of tea.

What's happening now?

Nothing.

Just gabbing.

One learns patience sitting in a wheelchair, M. Poirot.

I am sure that is true, mademoiselle.

The captain's standing up.

Oh, it's the Yank.

He's arrived.

It's very good of you to come.

You have the miniatures?

All in good time.

You said I'd get them back.

It is the guest of Captain Hastings.

If I've driven all this way on a wild-goose chase...

I can assure you if you'll just bear with me.

I thought this hotel was going to spoil the coastline,

but at certain times, seen through the mist or at sunset,

it really --

Mlle. Penn, the mist is beginning to clear, I think.

I don't think you've met Miss Durrant.

How do you do?

I feel unwell, Mary.

And Miss Penn.

Look, this is all very nice, but I didn't --

No, I've never met Mr. Wood. We've only...

Mr. Wood?

Come along, Mary.

My aunt isn't feeling well.

Hold on, hold on.

Mlle. Penn.

How did you know it was M. Wood, Mlle. Penn?

Nobody has mentioned his name.

Well, I didn't. I just...

You could not possibly have known him,

not unless it was you who took the �1,500 from him

for the miniatures.

Why, it was her.

Made up to look like a frump,

but it was her.

No. Made up to make everybody else think

that it was a man dressed as a woman.

N'est-ce pas, Mlle. Penn?

You thought that you would keep the money

and get back the miniatures as stolen property.

Wait a minute. She would --

Nice work if you can get it.

So, Miss Penn, what do you say to all this?

-She's off, Sarge! -Stop her!

All right, that's you!

Take her away, Sergeant.

And now, mademoiselle.

You.

And her!

Not so fast, miss.

Lock them both up.

But she...

I didn't...

I mean...

Hastings couldn't see it at first.

He was trying to work out

how the miniatures got from Redburn to Windermere.

Quite. Exactly.

Then he realized they'd never even been in Redburn.

Masterly, Hastings,

you diagnosed the true nature of the crime.

Oh. Well.

Unfortunate, of course,

that you set a trap for quite the wrong culprit.

Excuse me.

Merci.

Excuse me, sir.

You forgot your receipt.

Ah, merci beaucoup.

I hope you enjoyed your stay.

Yes, indeed.

Gentlemen.

Allow me, Poirot.

There's something about you here, Japp.

"Chief Inspector Japp to speak in North Country lecture tour."

You knew.

That's why you dragged me all the way up here.

No, no.

It was the other side I was interested in.

I did not know that --

"Learn to Speak French Like a Frenchman"?

In Belgium, Hastings, it is considered quite bad form

to read another person's newspaper cuttings.

Thank you.