All language subtitles for Agatha.Christies.Poirot.s02e08.The Kidnapped Prime Minister.1990.Bluray.720p.HEVC.x265.sharpysword

No sign of him yet.

We just lost sight

of the prime minister's car
for two minutes.

No, 20 seconds.

There was a bend in the road
just this side of Datchet.

Yes.

No. Nobody knows at all.
We've kept it quiet.

Of course we searched!

Eventually we came on here.
What else could we have done?

Wait a minute. Here's the
prime minister's car now.

I'll call you back.

Call the Yard.
Tell them he's safe.

Then report back to me.

We expected you
an hour ago, sir.

What happened?

I'm quite all right.

Commander Daniels
will tell you about it.

I... I have to get some rest.

Good night, sir.

Someone tried to hijack us.

But we only lost sight of you
for a few seconds.

Oh, they got it all worked out.

Diverted us down a lane.
Gang of thugs waiting.

If it hadn't been
for Egan there,

I don't know
what would have happened.

What did happen?

One or two of them had guns.
They were right across the road.

As soon as Egan saw them,

he just put his foot down
on the accelerator.

Drove straight at them.

They had to jump for it.
I can tell you.

-Well done, Egan.
-Thank you, sir.

Unfortunately, one of them
let his gun off at us

as we passed.

Bullet just grazed
the prime minister's cheek.

-Good God.
-It's all right.

I got it bandaged
at the hospital.

Well done, Commander Daniels.

Well done.

I wonder what they can have been
after, these ruffians, Hastings.

-Who can they have been?
-It doesn't say.

Just calls them ruffians.

In the next paragraph,
it says "thugs."

Another half-inch on the waist,
M. Poirot.

No, no, no, no, M. Fingler.

I am exactly the same size
as I was last year.

It is your equipment
that is at fault.

My equipment is at fault?

A person could go crazy.

Every year he tells me
my tape shrinks.

Shrinks!

-Continue, Hastings.
-No, no. That's all there is.

You want to try Savile Row,
try Savile Row.

I trained those boys.

-Finished.
-Bon.

First fitting -- Wednesday.

And then we shall see
if my equipment is faulty.

M. Fingler,
should I tell you something?

Tell me, M. Poirot. Tell me.
I'm on shpilkes.

You must learn not to kvetch.

I kvetch?

Hey! Clear off!

I see, Marmaduke!

Clear off, Montmorency!

I don't know why you don't go
to Savile Row, Poirot.

M. Fingler is an artist,
Hastings.

But like all artists, he must
be treated with a firm hand.

No, no, Hastings.

One cannot take this
as a serious attempt

at assassination.

A bunch of ruffians.

A chance shot with a revolver.
No, no.

Mon ami, this is
mere enfantillage.

A gentleman called
while you were out, Mr. Poirot.

Oh?
Thank you, Miss Lemon.

Sir Bernard Dodge.

Hastings, this is
indeed an honor.

-Is it?
-Oh, oui.

Sir Bernard Dodge, he is

permanent undersecretary
of state at the Foreign Office.

He'd like you to call on him
at 12:00.

Thank you, Miss Lemon.

Au revoir.

M. Poirot.

Good of you to come.

It is a pleasure to meet you,
Sir Bernard.

And you, too, of course,
Lord Estair.

Our business is absolutely
secret, you understand.

Well, the whole of England
will know soon enough, anyway.

We simply have to move
as quickly as possible.

Very well.

It concerns the prime minister.

We are in a grave predicament.

The injury, it is serious, then.

No, no. Fortunately,
that attempt failed.

I wish I could say as much
for the second attempt.

-There was a second attempt?
-Yes. But of a different nature.

The prime minister
has been kidnapped.

Kidnapped?

But how is this possible?

If we knew that,
we'd know everything.

Yes, of course.

You said just now, monsieur,
that time is of the essence.

The prime minister's absence

from the League of Nations
Disarmament Conference in Paris

could be disastrous.

His is the one voice
that can unify Europe

and perhaps
stop Germany rearming.

I see.

Well, perhaps this kidnapping
is a direct attempt

to bring about
this disastrous outcome.

Exactly.

There are people who want
Germany to go on rearming.

That is a possibility.

He was on his way to Paris
when it happened.

And the conference
is to be held when?

Half past 8:00 tomorrow evening.

It is now a quarter past 12:00.

32 hours.

And a quarter.

Do not forget the quarter,
monsieur.

It may come in useful.

The prime minister
and his secretary

crossed over to France in the
early hours of this morning.

An embassy car
met them at Boulogne.

They never arrived in Paris.

And that was the last
anyone saw of it

or any of its occupants.

It was a bogus embassy car.

I must know everything,
Sir Bernard.

I must know also
about this shooting affair.

Last night, the prime minister,

accompanied by
Commander Daniels --

one of his secretaries --

motored down to Windsor
for an audience with the king.

This is the main road
from Windsor to Datchet?

Uh, that's right.

The car with the prime minister
is forced down that lane

from this main road here,
you say.

Apparently so.

-How was it forced?
-We don't know.

There was a barrier
across the road.

You received this information

from the secretary
of the prime minister?

Commander Daniels, yes.

-Who is this Commander Daniels?
-Oh, good man.

Served with distinction
in the Royal Navy.

His father was a minister
in Mr. Asquith's cabinet

until they had a row
over home rule.

The car
following the prime minister --

the car
containing the detectives --

did they see this barrier?

No. The road was clear
by the time we arrived.

Mr. MacAdam is very impatient

at any efforts to
protect his person.

The car carrying
the plainclothes detectives

has to follow
at a discreet distance.

They lost sight of him
in that bend.

Of course, the barrier could
have been removed in seconds.

The thugs are strung out
across the road.

The chauffeur sees them.
He sees their guns.

He accelerates towards them,
scattering them.

Yes.

One of them fires his revolver.

The bullet grazes the cheek
of the prime minister.

Yes.

Just think --

One of them is good as runs
the Foreign Office.

The other one
guards the prime minister.

Why should England tremble, eh?

There's a destroyer
waiting at Dover, M. Poirot,

to take us to France.

And this destroyer, it will wait
for how long, Sir Bernard?

Well, long as necessary,
of course, but...

Bon.

Yes, I know.

Well, it appears
he takes his time, sir.

Yes.
Yes, I know, sir.

Uh, we have done all this,
you know, Poirot.

No blood.
No bullet hole.

Does it not strike you
as strange, Chief Inspector,

that there is no bullet hole?

But the bullet
hit the prime minister.

No, no, Hastings.

The bullet grazed
the prime minister.

Why was there no bullet
in the car?

Where did it go
after it grazed his cheek?

No, no.

Mr. MacAdam's head was outside
the car when he was shot at.

When the car slowed down,

he looked out of the window
to see what was wrong.

Eh bien.

The car is in the lane.

The ruffians
are barring the way.

M. MacAdam realizes
that something is wrong.

He opens the window.

He puts his head out of the
window to see what is happening.

A shot rings out.

Bah!

I don't know why we're wasting
time on all this, Poirot.

The attempt didn't succeed,
the kidnapping did,

and that was in France.

Now look here, Poirot.

-The driver Egan, monsieur.
-Yes, sir?

I want to speak with him.

I spoke to him last night
at Charing Cross.

He is the only witness
that we have, Chief Inspector.

He's off till Thursday.

His home address, if you please.

He didn't come in at all
last night.

Wasn't I waiting up for him
until after 1:00 in the morning?

Is he usually regular
in his habits?

As clockwork.

Is M. Egan a fellow countryman
of yours, Mme. Dennison?

Sure. He's from County Clare
like myself.

He was fortunate, indeed,
to find such a comfortable abode

and with such
a charming landlady.

How long has he lodged with you?

Six months next Sunday
it is, sir.

M. Egan keeps his address book
in a place most convenient, eh?

He has his own methods,
Sir Bernard.

I don't want method.
I want action.

I've never known him
to fail yet.

The prime minister disappears.

The Commander Daniels
disappears.

M. Egan disappears.

At any moment, I fully expect
the entire Cabinet to disappear.

You all right, Poirot?

Yes.
Yes, mon ami.

There was a small hotel
back there.

It looked quite comfortable.

But the ship's waiting for us.

Ah.

Left, right, left, right,
left, right, left.

Where's he off to now?

Well, I think he doesn't want to
go on the destroyer.

You know how seasick he gets.

Seasick.

I shall lose my pension
if he carries on like this.

When they suggested him,
they asked my opinion.

"Oh, yes," I said.
"Just the man," I said.

What is he doing?

What is he doing now?

Hmm?

-He's thinking.
-Thinking?

What on earth
is he doing that for?

Europe is in crisis!

The one man
who might avert a tragedy,

the prime minister
of this country,

has been kidnapped!

We're not paying your Mr. Poirot
to think.

Well --

Be so good as to keep
out of this, Chief Inspector.

He's a detective.

And we're paying him --

and paying him handsomely,
I may say -- to detect.

What do you expect him to do?

God's teeth.
Do I have to teach him his job?

Blood stains, fingerprints.

He's done all that.

When?
I haven't seen him.

I haven't seen him so much as
look through a magnifying glass.

Poirot is ready.

Do you have that list I asked
you for, Chief Inspector?

-Excellent.
-Back to the docks.

Back to Datchet.

Don't lose sight of him,
Sergeant.

We don't want anybody else
getting kidnapped.

Right, sir.

He wasn't the one
who went through

that awful divorce last year,
was he?

-Who wasn't, Hastings?
-This Commander Daniels.

Mrs. Daniels' countersuit

was utterly malicious
and without foundation.

Ah, I remember.
It was in the newspapers.

It was all over the newspapers.

Now what?

I know what he's doing.

I just don't know
why he's doing it.

Well, you're one up on me.

I got him a list
of all the hospitals

between Datchet and London.

He's trying to find out
which one

they took the prime minister to
to get his face bandaged.

Not this one.

Onwards, driver, if you please,
to... Feltham.

Yes, sir.

There's a cottage
hospital marked here, Poirot,

but it's a bit off
the beaten track.

And the driver was missing?

Right. We can get back to Dover
in an hour.

We'll be in Boulogne by dawn.

-They found the car in France.
-The bogus embassy car?

At an abandoned farmhouse
near Cr�cy.

Was there anyone inside the car?

Commander Daniels.
Bound and gagged.

With a head injury from where
they knocked him out.

They've flown him
back to London.

And no sign of the prime
minister? Not even his body?

No. Nothing.

So I suggest that we now
get over to France

and join the search proper.

It is strange, is it not,

that having tried to shoot
the prime minister last evening,

they should now take
so much trouble

in order to keep him alive?

Commander Daniels
will appreciate

some visitors, I think.

Bang goes my pension.

We've come to see
Commander Daniels.

Sir Bernard Dodge and some
gentlemen to see you, Commander.

Show them in, Shi Mong.

Then take my bag and unpack it,
will you?

Yes, sir.

Gentlemen, please.

Thank you.

Good to see you, Daniels.

Bad show, this.

And I don't come out of it very
well, I'm afraid, Sir Bernard.

Nonsense, my dear chap.
What could you do?

You know Chief Inspector Japp,
I believe.

We met last night.

And this is Mr. Hercule Poirot

and his colleague,
Captain Hastings.

How do you do?

We are full of the apologies,
Commander,

but this is a matter
of the greatest import.

Of course.
Sit down, please.

If you would be kind enough,
Commander,

to tell us what happened
when you arrived at Boulogne.

Well, Mr. MacAdam had managed

to get some sleep
on the crossing,

but he was still shaken.

I could tell.

There was a staff car
waiting for us on the quay.

Tell me about the driver.

I didn't take much notice
of him.

-One doesn't, I'm afraid.
-Of course.

We started off for Paris.

We passed through
Nampont-Saint-Martin

just as the sun was coming up.

It was about 6:00.

And then?

The last thing I remember
was passing through Vron.

I looked at my watch.
It was 10 past 6:00.

Then... nothing.

Well, nothing until
four hours later

when I woke up in the car
in a spinny,

very efficiently tied up
and gagged.

No sign of the prime minister.

-Or the driver.
-Or the driver.

I managed to get the door open
with my feet,

but that's as far as I'd got
when a little girl found me.

I must have frightened
the life out of her.

There was blood
all over my face.

Anyway, she got
the local gendarme.

So you remember nothing
of the abduction.

I'm afraid not.

Well, this frequently happens,
Commander,

as a result of a trauma.

But your memory,
it will soon return.

Now, if I may use
your telephone?

-Yes. Yes, of course.
-Thank you.

Ah, no, no, no.

My friend, he will have retired
for the night.

Thank you, Commander Daniels.

You have been most helpful.

Well, I wouldn't say that.

I am preparing a report,
Sir Bernard.

Good.
Good show, Daniels.

Ah. Mon Dieu.
I shall forget my own funeral.

Commander, what hospital
did you go to?

Hospital?

To get the head
of the prime minister bandaged.

Oh. Yes.
I don't know the name of it.

I was busy
attending to Mr. MacAdam.

I told the driver
to get us to a hospital,

but I didn't pay much attention,
I'm afraid,

to where we were going.

I understand.
Good night.

-Good night, sir.
-Good night.

Now, look here, Poirot.

When we first met at noon today,

I told you how urgent
this matter was.

Seems to me you've wasted
some 12 hours

meandering aimlessly
about the countryside

100 miles from where
the crime took place,

talking to people who could have
no possible connection with it.

I understand your feelings,
Sir Bernard.

I doubt it.

We've now wasted hours

traveling back to London
to talk to Commander Daniels,

who, as I could have told you,

was able to tell us
precisely nothing.

On the contrary, Sir Bernard.

Now I have to report
to Lord Estair.

What do you mean,
"On the contrary"?

Commander Daniels was able
to tell me

almost everything
I needed to know.

-Chief Inspector?
-Hmm?

I wonder if you'd be kind enough
to do something for me.

If I can.

I want you to check for me
two things --

the record of the driver Egan

and the maiden name
of the former Mme. Daniels.

Mrs. Daniels?

What on earth can that woman
have to do with anything?

Now, look.
This is exactly what I mean.

We've dealt with Egan.
Egan is old news.

Perhaps.

But, you see, the kidnappers,

they always had one flaw
to their plan.

They knew it, and they did
their best to conceal it.

But their best
is not good enough

for Hercule Poirot, perhaps.

Good night, Sir Bernard.

Where are you going?

To bed.

You don't seem to realize,
Poirot,

this is a national emergency.

I do not intend to sleep until
the prime minister is found.

I am sure it will make you feel
very virtuous, Sir Bernard,

but it will not help
the prime minister.

For myself, I need to restore
the little gray cells.

Chief Inspector.

If Monsieur MacAdam
is still alive,

he will be in Paris
in time for the conference.

He never left this country,
you see?

I shall go in alone, Hastings.

You sure about this,
are you, Poirot?

-Quite sure.
-I'm here if you need me.

Yes?
Who are you?

Ah. Bonjour, Mme. Daniels.

I am Hercule Poirot.

The Belgian detective.

Madame is too amiable.

What do you want with me?

Madame, I saw your
former husband last night.

What a treat.

If he sent you here,
you can leave right away.

No, no, no, no.

Madame, Commander Daniels
has no idea that I am here.

But he is in great trouble.

Oh, how wonderful.

The police suspect him
of a grave crime.

The police?

Well, he hasn't murdered me.

That's the only crime
I can imagine Tony

being interested in.

No, madame, it is not murder.

Not yet.

You are being
tiresomely mysterious.

Commander Daniels had the means
to commit a crime.

He had the opportunity
to commit a crime.

But as yet, the police can find
no motive for the crime.

Now, you know him
better than anybody.

Too well.

Perhaps you can help them?

I wish I could.

Would he go to jail?

God, I'd love to see him
go to jail.

You know what that bastard
did to me.

Only what I read
in the newspapers, madame.

Yes.
And didn't they love it?

Madame...

How would you describe
the politics of your ex-husband?

Torpid.

He never had a political thought
in his life.

How was Mrs. Daniels?

Formidable.

I would not wish to be
her enemy, I think.

You must take care, Hastings.

-How do you mean?
-I want you to wait here.

When she comes out,
I want you to follow her.

Do not lose sight of her
for one second.

Telephone me when you can.

Scotland Yard, if you please.

No, sir.

Well, it's not up to me, sir,
is it?

Well, yes.

Well, I thought he was
just the man for the job.

Come in.

-No, sir.
-Thank you.

Well, I couldn't agree
with you there, sir.

No. He's not slow.
He's thorough.

Yes, well, most of our men
are already in France, sir.

Guess who he was talking about.

Modesty forbids,
Chief Inspector.

Little gray cells rested,
are they?

Indeed. Thank you.

You have the information
I asked you for?

Ah. Yes.

Much good it will do you.

"John Patrick Egan."

Born Milltown, County Clare,
1901.

Van driver for removals firm

until he came over to England
a couple of years ago.

Joined Ministry of Works
as a driver-mechanic

six months later.

Good references.
Good worker.

And Mme. Daniels?

Maiden name -- Donahue.

Is that not also
a name of Ireland?

Well, sort of.

She's the third daughter
of the Earl of Connemara.

I don't understand
what you're after, Poirot.

Chief Inspector,
did you ever read about

the divorce
of Commander Daniels?

I should say I did.

Very juicy.

Hmm.

After such a divorce,

having been dragged
through the courts,

humiliated in the newspapers,

do you think the husband
would keep on his desk

a framed photograph
of his ex-wife?

How well do you know John Egan?

John Egan?

He drove you and the
prime minister to Windsor.

Oh, Egan.

Know him?
He's a driver.

There are three or four on call
for Downing Street.

But you see, Commander,
he has not been seen

since he drove back the car
to the garage that night.

Really?

Yeah, he did not return
to his lodgings.

I'm sorry.

Ah, well.
'Tis no matter.

I'm sorry.

To have disturbed
your breakfast.

Erin Go Bragh.

All that we can do
is to wait, Chief Inspector.

Miss Lemon, has Captain Hastings
telephoned yet?

No, Mr. Poirot.

Alors.

This is all very fine and large,
Poirot,

but what if Mrs. Daniels
doesn't leave?

Oh, she will have left already,
Chief Inspector,

or I am the Dutchman.

Hello? Yes.

Ah. Yes.

Japp. Yes, Cantwell.
What's happening?

-They what?
-Thank you, Miss Lemon.

Why?

Oh.

What time was this?

Nothing since?

Right.

They've arrested a vagrant
in some unpronounceable village.

A vagrant suspected of abducting
the prime minister?

When in doubt, arrest a vagrant.

They let him go again.

-Hello?
-Poirot?

Yes, Hastings!
Where are you?

I'm afraid
I've lost her, Poirot.

You've lost her?

He's lost her.

But where are you?

Between Basingstoke and Andover.

Let me get a map, Hastings.

The map, if you please,
Miss Lemon.

Between Basingstoke and Andover.

She turned off the main road,

and we went through a village
called Spratling.

She must've seen me
just after that.

I wonder if the Daniels have
any local connection, Hastings.

Go back to the village

and ask if Commander Daniels
has a house in the neighborhood.

Or you could try the name
of Donahue.

What?

That is the maiden name
of Mme. Daniels.

-Lady Imogen Donahue.
-And you think --

Yes, Hastings, and call me back
when you have done that.

Goodbye.

I'll get onto the Yard,

tell them them to contact
the Basingstoke police.

She's the daughter of the
Earl of Connemara, isn't she?

You English. You are all experts
in the aristocracy.

No, only it was in the papers
a year ago.

No.
Nearly two years ago.

-What was, Miss Lemon?
-There was a big fire.

I can see the headline now --
"Earl's mansion destroyed."

There was a picture of him.
Fine-looking man, Mr. Poirot.

Of that I have no doubt,
Miss Lemon.

But where was the house?

It was in... Berkshire.

Good. Good.

It was in, uh, oh...

Try, Miss Lemon.

It was called something Hall
in a village called...

We can find that out.

Cantwell, can you find out
the name of the house

that belonged to
the Earl of Connemara

that burnt down
a couple of years ago?

Oh, the hall was
the same name as the village.

It was a name like -- Batleigh.

Batleigh?

Like Batleigh.

Catleigh?

Datleigh?

Fatleigh?

Gatleigh?

Hatleigh?

Summerscote Hall.

Yes.

Tell that to Captain Hastings
when he telephones.

I hope this isn't
a wild-goose chase, Poirot.

No, no, no, mon ami.

The only wild-goose chase

they intended us to be on
was in France.

And they have been planning this
for years.

It was only when they could get

somebody sympathetic
to their cause

into the position of one of the
drivers for the prime minister

was the abduction possible.

But what is their cause?
German rearmament?

Indirectly.

There is a strong element
in Ireland

that does not care
if Germany rearms

so long as it causes hurt
for England.

But how did Daniels
get involved?

I understand about his wife.

Seems she was always
a bit of a rebel.

The father
of Commander Daniels

was violently opposed
to Lord Asquith

in the
1914 Irish Home Rule Bill.

That was the end
of his career in politics.

I think that this has festered
inside Commander Daniels

all of his life.

He did not take
so much persuading.

Just a few hours more.

In four hours,
they'll have voted in Paris,

and it'll be too late
for the prime minister

to do a thing about it.

Anyway, what's it got to do
with Britain if Germany rearms?

We're just coming
into Summerscote now, sir.

Right.

There's a turning on the left,

just on the other side
of the village.

Sir.

I thought this place was
Summerscote, not the Somme.

All right, lads.
Keep the noise down.

They're all ready.

-Very well, Major.
-Thank you, sir.

Carry on.

Left, turn.

I'm sure I heard something.

Maybe it's your husband.

No.
Must have been the wind.

From here we can see everything.

Seems I may owe you
an apology, M. Poirot.

No, no, Sir Bernard.
You were cleverly misled.

How did you get onto it?

Whenever the occasion arises,
Sir Bernard,

to look into
someone's address book,

always first look
under the letter "X"

because that is where
the secrets are kept.

In the address book of M. Egan
which I found under his pillow,

under the letter "X,"
there was only one number.

No name.
Just "X."

It was a Mayfair number,
which I thought strange.

But when I pretended to use the
telephone of Commander Daniels,

I noticed that his number

was the same as that
in the address book.

Oh, no.

My friend, he will have retired
for the night.

An interesting connection,
n'est-ce pas?

Excuse me, sir.

-All in place now.
-Go easy, Major.

We don't want
anybody getting hurt.

What's that?

There is somebody out there.

Poirot!

We caught him trying
to get through the cordon.

What is all this, Daniels?
Have you gone mad?

Let me go to Imogen.

You're a traitor, Daniels!
A disgrace!

Let me go to Imogen.

Police. Police everywhere.

And soldiers. They've sent
the army out for us.

Jack, I'm not going,
but you must.

I'll create a diversion for you.

Come out!

One by one!

With your hands in the air!

-What will you do?
-There's no way out!

-I don't know.
-Give yourselves up!

Perhaps there's still useful
things I can do for Ireland.

You don't stand a chance!

Give me the gun.

Come on. It'll be worse
if they take you with it.

Good luck.

I'm going to count to 5!

1!

2!

3!

4!

5!

On the tower!

It's Mrs. Daniels.

Here! Come back!

-Watch out!
-Stop him!

Erin Go Bragh!

Don't!

Yes.

Erin Go Bragh.

"Ireland forever."

Sir!
There's the prime minister!

Go help him!

The only thing
I don't understand

is how you knew it was a double
they sent to France.

When I ascertained
that the net result

of the supposed
assassination attempt

was that the prime minister
went to France

with his face bound up,

it was then
that I began to comprehend.

But the man who impersonated
the prime minister

was seen by everyone.

No, no, Hastings.

He was not seen by anyone
who knew him intimately.

And with his face bandaged?
No.

But now, mon ami,
a far more difficult case --

a fitting with M. Fingler.

So the Daniels' divorce
was just a smokescreen.

The purest theater, Hastings,

to ensure that the last thing
anyone could suspect

was collusion between those two.

They loved each other, yes.

But they were willing
to sacrifice that

and everything else
for their cause.

You know, Hastings,
the worst kind of fanatic

is the quiet,
unobtrusive fanatic.

And the worst kind of customer

is the customer
who can't keep still.

M. Fingler, this jacket,
it is too tight.

Oh, it is too tight, is it?

Yes. I shall scarcely be able
to button it up.

Do you know why
it is too tight?

-Because you made it too small.
-No, no, no.

Because you have grown too big.

This jacket has been made
by last year's measurements.

Now, are we having a fitting
or what?!

A fitting, by all means,
M. Fingler.