All language subtitles for Murder.With.Mirrors.1985.WEB-DL.1080p.WEBRip.x264.AAC-[YTS.BZ]

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Thank you.

Mr. Gulbrandsen, Miss Jane Marple is here

for her appointment.

Jane. How good of you to come.

I'm in London once a month
anyway to do a little shopping.

Well, come in, please. The latch report?

It hasn't arrived yet, Mr. Gulbrandsen.

Alright, thanks.

That's all, Miss Valentine.

Well, please, sit down.

You look marvelous, Jane. Not a day older.

It's only 4 or 5 years since
you saw me last at Stonygates.

I'm afraid it's been more like 13.

It's been 13 years? That's terrible.

How is my dear Carrie Louise?

You know my stepmother.

Still living in her own little world.

Ah, there is Carrie Louise.

Yes, that was taken last year.

And that's her new husband with her?

Not new, they've been
married for over 10 years now.

But that's him... Louis Seracote.

I've heard very nice things about him.

Yes, well, I must say he
simply worships Carrie Louise.

Well, he'd be a fool not to.

Jane...

That's my half-sister,
Mildred, but you know that.

Yes, of course I know Mildred.

Christian, what is it?

You've been wanting to say something to me,

but, for some reason or
other, you're not saying it.

Do you have time for a stroll?

Point is, I thought I'd have
certain information by now,

and I'm afraid I don't.

Is it concerned with Carrie Louise?

She's alright, isn't she?

That's it, you see. I'm not sure she is.

Could you spare a few
days to pay her a visit?

I really think that just now she
could use an old friend about.

And you can't tell me any more than that?

Not until I'm absolutely sure.

If you could take a morning train,

I'll be down myself tomorrow evening,

and I'll explain it all to you then.

You're getting me very worried.

Oh, I suppose I must
be, and I'm worried, too,

more than you can imagine.

My stepmother is very dear to me.

I'll take the next train home
and call her from there.

I can be at Stonygates by
early afternoon tomorrow.

That's marvelous, and if you would,

say you had this sudden whim to see her.

I don't want to alarm her in any way.

It's something very serious, isn't it?

Yes, I'm afraid it is.

Are you miss Marple? Miss Jane Marple?

I'm Edgar Lawson.

I'm Mr. Seracote's assistant.

I've come to fetch you.

I'm very pleased to meet you.

If you'll just follow me, I've
got a van 'round the back.

Thank goodness!

I was so afraid I was gonna be late.

How was your train trip?
Absolutely wretched?

Did you have something
to eat? You must be starved.

Actually, I had some
fruit and cheese with me,

thank you for asking, but I
don't think I know you, do I?

I know you, and you're just
as adorable as I remember.

I'm Gina.

Gina? Gina! Pippa's daughter!

Of course!

I didn't recognize you,

but, actually, you were 9
years old when I saw you last.

I remember, at my parents' funeral.

From the moment I
heard of that terrible crash,

I've refused to ride in an airplane.

Don't worry. I'm driving you to Stonygates.

Hold on, Gina. I'm supposed
to be driving miss Marple.

It's all been arranged.

Well, consider it rearranged, Edgar.

You just take miss Marple's luggage.

Well, go on.

I don't think Mr. Lawson is too pleased.

Perhaps I was a little hard on him,

but Edgar's such a pompous little twit.

Pippa's daughter.

I should have known you straightaway.

You're like your mother at your age.

She was so beautiful, even as a child.

You knew her way back then?

I'm from way back then, and I knew Pippa

practically from the day that Carrie Louise

and Eric picked her up at the orphanage.

It's funny the way
things turn out, isn't it?

They adopted my mother because they thought

they couldn't have children of their own,

and the very next year,
they had aunt Mildred.

Mildred married a vicar, didn't she?

Yes, but he died of cancer last year,

so she's moved back to Stonygates.

Mostly hangs about
looking like a rain cloud.

Well... here we go.

We're going rather fast, aren't we?

Yes. Don't you love it?

You remind me of a little girl back home.

Always rode her bicycle
as fast as ever she could.

Oh, I did, too.

And after the accident,

she even joined the county wheelchair race.

Bless her, she came in fourth.

It's been so long since
you visited Stonygates,

you'll hardly recognize the place.

Louis has turned Stonygates into a prison.

Oh, not really a prison,

sort of a rehabilitation center

for juvenile delinquents.

Like that boy at the station?

He said he was Mr. Seracote's assistant.

Oh, Edgar?

He hasn't the brains for that.

You know why they put
him away in the first place?

He used to go around claiming his father

was sir Laurence Olivier,
or Paul McCartney,

or just anyone.

Anyway, Louis likes to make them feel

like they're all part of a family,

so they're given these little jobs to do.

Do you think that's sensible?

I-I suppose...

I think we'll probably all be murdered

in our beds one night.

Gina!

You idiot!

What was I saying before
those silly sheep got in the way?

Oh, um... you were telling me

about life at Stonygates.

Oh, well, yes.

It's frightfully boring, of course,

except the theater part.

Steven's got me helping
out, as a matter of fact.

Steven Restorick, a
young repertory director

Louis hired about seven or eight years ago

to do the theater business.

Grandmother sort of adopted him.

How is your grandmother?

I'm afraid you'll be
shocked when you see her.

I'm concerned there may
be something wrong with her,

but she's such a dear, even
sent me to school in America.

Growing a lot older, but she still

gets herself made up
like the belle of the ball.

But lately, she's had a touch of flu.

Oh, dear. Did you enjoy America?

Oh, well, I'm not sure really.

See, that's where I met Wally.

Wally?

My husband.

Oh.

Yes, who is it?

It's me, obviously.

Come ahead, Mrs. Marcum.

They have a gate guard?

Yes, until midnight.

That's Jerome Davis.

Caught exposing himself in St. Paul's.

I suppose we all worship in our own way.

Oh, aunt Jane, I'm so glad you're here.

Ah! I think I saw grandmother just now

down by the lake with Mildred.

Go and say hello while
I pull the car around.

I'll see you at tea.

Yes, of course, of course,

and thank you for the ride.

It was, uh... Unique.

I'll take you out tomorrow,
and we'll really open her up.

Mother, don't you think you've had

enough exercise for this afternoon?

This is the same walk we take every day.

Mildred, dear, miss Belever knows

my limitations better than you do.

Young man, you don't
want to lose an eye, do you?

There are so many wonderful things to see

in this world.

Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am.

Carrie Louise!

Oh, Jane!

Dear! You look wonderful!

Come, come, Jane. I'm an old lady.

You are not, and I'm not either!

We're still the same silly young ladies

we were 45 years ago.

You remember my
daughter, Mildred, of course.

Mildred.

Glad you could come.

This is our housekeeper, miss Belever,

who insists upon treating me

like a delicate piece of glass.

She doesn't know I'm
just a silly young lady.

How was your trip?

Well, the train trip was quiet enough,

but the drive with Gina from the station...

I know. I know.

But they make a beautiful
couple, don't they?

Wally. That's her husband's name, isn't it?

Yes, Wally Marcum, but that is not he.

That is Steven Restorick.

There's Wally.

Hey, that's my wife!

What do you think you're
doing? Now leave her alone.

Mr. Marcum's an American.

Steven, are you alright?

Jane, I want you to meet my husband.

He's quite a marvelous man.

Come, come.

Terry Joseph, a very conscientious worker,

and I'm sure you'll find

his business skills first-rate.

Come in.

Oh, hello, darling.

I'm sending his academic transcripts

under separate cover.

Yours sincerely, Louis Seracote.

Well, you have to be Jane Marple.

I can't tell you how delighted
I am to finally meet you.

And I might say the same.

Just trying to place
another of our little family.

Max here feels the more
we treat the boys as family,

the more likely they are to
start assuming responsibility.

I want you to meet Dr. Hargrove, Jane.

Max, may I introduce Miss Jane Marple?

How do you do?

Brilliant psychologist
and the resident genius

of our little program here.

You're being far too modest, Mr. Seracote.

Without you, there wouldn't
be a Stonygates institute.

Nonsense. It's all your show.

I just try to refine
the boys' talents a bit.

I suppose you don't mean like safe-cracking.

Nothing so exciting. No, no.

We try to teach them the basics...

typing, accounting, computer language.

We've hundreds of our
boys in firms all over England.

That sounds very admirable.

A pebble in the quarry so
far, I'm afraid, but it's a start.

If you'll excuse me, I
have a staff meeting.

Pleasure to meet you, miss Marple.

See you later at tea, I hope.

Max, don't be too hard on
Timmy Wellcroft for stealing.

Boys at that age just get hungry.

I'll tell him you've advised mercy.

Well, you like your room?

I'm afraid she's not seen it as yet.

Oh, I'll take you upstairs then.

Darling, no sense in your overdoing it.

I suppose not. Thank you, darling.

Come along, Jane.

Oh, this is lovely. Quite.

Miss Marple...

May I have a word with you?

Is anything wrong?

Yes, yes, I'm afraid there is.

I wonder if this is what Christian meant.

You talked to Christian?

Actually, that's why I'm here.

He told me Carrie Louise
needs a friend right now.

Did he say why?

He told me he'd explain
when he arrives tonight.

You know Carrie Louise well, don't you?

She's found some secret,

enchanted place in this world

where nothing ugly ever seems to reach her.

She may be out of touch with
the reality that you and I know,

but I happen to love her very much,

and I wouldn't change her for anything.

If she knew what I'm about to tell you,

she'd be completely shattered.

But Christian was right.
She does need a friend.

Someone who can help her,

and who can help me look after her.

As you saw, she isn't terribly well.

I'll do everything I can.

Carrie Louise is a very special person.

She is, and I have reason to believe

that someone is trying
to poison her to death.

So, Mr. Seracote convinced
Christian gulbrandsen

that an experiment like ours

could serve as a pilot program

for a whole new theory of juvenile reform.

This is just the beginning.

Then the original concept
was yours, Dr. Hargrove?

Essentially, yes.

The basic theory is to let the boys

develop their self-respect and confidence

by treating them as members of a community

rather then outcast someone.

Except, all they are is a
bunch of teenage hoods.

I'm afraid Mr. Marcum
represents the prejudices

of most of the outsiders.

Outsider Dr. Hargrove?
I've been here over a year.

Yes, and you don't seem
to have learned a thing.

I suggest you back off, okay?

Mildred, is your mother going to join us?

I thought it best she lie
down for a bit before supper.

Better bring her medicine.

I already did.

I prefer she receive it
at the proper intervals.

Well, aren't we the jolliest group?

A most peculiar young man.

He reminds me of somebody at home,

but I can't think who it is.

Just another nut case.

Most of us were a little mad,

but, actually, Edgar
Lawson is quite bright.

He was very good in
that production of yours

of "the mousetrap" last year.

Yes, I was sorry to lose him,

but he thought there
was some plot against him

when he couldn't get
to play Richard the third.

Like I said, another nut case.

If you'll excuse me,

I'm going to take a little walk.

Going snooping, aunt Jane?

Oh, these? No, I'm afraid I'm just

an old-fashioned bird-watcher.

I've heard there are some bearded reedlings

in this part of the country.

Oh, aunt Jane, aunt Jane.

That boy out there clipping the hedge.

He spent six months in borstal

for coshing old ladies
and stealing their purses.

Oh! Oh, you gave me quite a start.

You've been watching me.

What?

Don't lie. You've been watching
since you got off the train.

Have I?

You're planning something
against me, aren't you?

Of course, not.

You think I don't know
they want me outta the way.

Who? Who wants you out of the way?

How do I know I can trust you?

Don't I look like someone you can trust?

What are they for?

Bearded reedlings.

I've been betrayed.

Betrayed by whom?

By the one person in the world I trusted.

One who wants to get rid of me.

Who's he?

My father.

The orphanage falsified the records

so I wouldn't guess the
truth, but I know now.

Who is your father, Mr. Lawson?

You'd like to know, wouldn't
you, so you could warn him?

Of course not.

Well, you won't get away with it.

None of you.

I think it best to get some outside advice.

Yes, I suppose so.

I only wish I hadn't been
able to confirm all this.

It's Carrie Louise we have to consider now.

Yes. Well, we'd better get in.

I'll go up and change.

We'll talk more after dinner.

Jane... I'm so glad you're here.

You've seen my stepmother?

Of course.

How does she seem? Her health, I mean.

She's had a bout with
the flu, but except for that...

but what about her heart?

It's alright, I suppose.

Christian, Louis told me...

Christian!

Darling. You look wonderful.

Well, I'm delighted you think so.

Well, it's true.

If you have a moment,
Max, I'd like you to look

at those staff recommendations.

Be happy to.

Very encouraging, I think.

You simply must tell me what's going on.

I wanna get a letter off tonight.

May I send one of the
boys into town with it?

Certainly.

I'll be half an hour at the most.

There's nothing to worry about.

What's the old boy doing here anyway?

He doesn't show up for six months at times,

and here he is twice in a fortnight.

Foundation business with Louis, I suppose.

Gulbrandsen's a real marvel, isn't he?

Always looks just like
a millionaire should.

And how is that?

Perfectly immaculate and just a touch smug.

I'm working on the look.

You've got the smug part down cold.

Are you being surly again, old man?

Well, I suppose it's what
you colonials do best.

Aren't you supposed to be at the theater

watching your little
gangsters play dress up?

A bit later, yes. More fun than
watching my wife support me.

You know I'm going back to get my degree.

When? When Gina's money runs out?

I don't have to take this garbage.

You look... get your hand outta the way...

if you two want to dance,
don't let me stop you.

The boys are just being boys.

Someday, they might even grow into men.

Excuse me, Mrs. Seracote.

Must I? I suppose I must.

Darling! Darling, I, uh...

I don't think you should take this tonight.

Why ever not?

Well, I'm not sure it
really agrees with you.

The prescription says four times a day.

Yes, well, she won't
miss it for one evening.

That stupid circuit.

It must have overloaded somewhere.

I'll put another fuse in it.

Wally's very clever with electrical things.

That's about all he does do.

There you are!

Oh, of course I'm here.
What's the matter with you?

You betrayed me. You been spying on me.

Edgar, now please, calm down.

You're upset. You don't
know what you're talking about.

I know I'm saying right enough.

You've been plotting to get rid of me.

Come on. Come along!

Now, we'll just talk this
thing out, hmm? You and me.

I'll take him to the dormitory.
Give him a sedative.

It's alright, Max. He just needs to talk.

Step through here.

He had something in
his pocket. Edgar, I mean.

In a film, it would be a gun.

I think, you know, it was a gun.

You are my father!

That's simply not true.

You stole my name, my birthright.

Put that gun away!

He'll kill him! He's crazy.

Edgar loves Louis. He won't hurt him.

It's locked.

I'll get my keys.

We can't talk while you're
pointing that gun at me.

You'd come after me.

It was outside. A car
backfiring, or something.

Edgar! This is Dr. Hargrove! Open the door!

It's alright, Max, I can handle it.

Are you sure?

Edgar's not stupid. He'll listen to reason.

You're not stupid, are you?

You must think I am if you
imagine I'm gonna put this away.

What good would shooting me do?

Oh, my god!

Edgar, please, let us in.

Let me in! Edgar!

Oh, Louis, darling!

It's alright, my dear.

What the hell's going on?

That maniac tried to kill Louis.

I'll telephone the police.

There's no need for that, miss Belever.

Are you alright, dear?

Max, come here, will you?

I didn't mean to shoot.
Something came over me.

You stole this out of my room.

I don't remember.

Better lock it up for safekeeping.

Come on, lad. Let's get back to your room.

I'll give you a little
something to help you sleep.

I telephoned the police.

They'll be here in a few minutes.

I told you not to do that.

This young man's not a criminal.

Believe what you want,
but someone around here is.

What are you saying?

I'm sorry, ma'am,

but Mr. Gulbrandsen's been killed.

Somebody shot him in the head.

Christian!

I'm sorry, my darling.

I know how much you cared for him.

I wish to god you could
have been spared this.

Nobody could spare anybody anything.

Things just have to be faced.

According to what we know so far,

Mr. Gulbrandsen was killed at short-range,

probably by a shot
from a .38-caliber pistol.

What you thought might have
been a car backfiring at the time

was almost certainly the fatal shot.

At that moment, Mr. Seracote
was in that room there

being threatened by a young man

named Edgar Lawson.

And with the exceptions

of Mr. Marcum and miss Belever,

you were all in this room here
until the body was discovered.

Somebody care to add anything to all that?

Just that we appreciate
you allowing Mrs. Seracote

these few moments to herself.

I'll take that as a "no," miss Marple.

Now, miss Belever,

what made you call in on Mr. Gulbrandsen?

Well, after Mr. Seracote
was almost murdered,

I thought I ought to explain all the noise

to Mr. Gulbrandsen.

I told you, Edgar didn't
try to murder anyone.

The gun going off was an accident.

Begging your pardon, sir,

he did put two rather nasty holes

in your book collection.

But not in me.

That could have been an accident.

And by the way, Mr. Restorick,

you were playing the
piano. Did you continue?

Did I accompany that
little scene in the den

with a gentle obbligato

to the inevitability of death?

No. I stopped when the shouting started.

Too much competition.

And now, I'm late for rehearsal.

If you need me, I'll
be down at the theater.

What the hell are you asking
us all these questions for?

I mean, what, we have
over 200 delinquent punks

that live right next door,

and they're all crazy as bedbugs.

He's right, you know.

We have an outside door
that leads to the hallway.

It's never locked except when we retire.

Anyone could sneak in.

We will check everything. Rest assured.

Meanwhile, I would like

to question you all individually.

By the way, is there a room I can use?

You can use my study.

Most obliging of you, sir.

I think we'll begin with miss Marple.

Inspector, I think it's important

that you should talk to me first.

In good time, Mr. Seracote. Please.

It's so hard to imagine, isn't it?

The idea of murder, I mean.

A person taking the life of another person,

but I suppose it happens all the time.

Though not often as the films
or television would've us believe.

Although, on the other hand,

the newspapers are full of such stories,

and they don't lie about things like that.

One wonders it they
don't make up some of it

just in case their readers

are tired of reading about Princess Diana,

or Belfast, or even soccer matches.

I like Liverpool's chances
this year. Do you?

I think you can drop the act, miss Marple.

Act? What act?

Pretending to be this dithering

little old lady from
St. Mary Mead, isn't it?

But I do dither... that's my nature...

and I am small, I suppose,

and old, too, I'm afraid,

but I've known people smaller and older,

and I don't see what that has to do...

how do you know I come from St. Mary Mead?

Sit down, miss Marple, please.

I believe you know an old
friend of mine that lives there...

inspector blacker...

he speaks about you a great deal.

He uses words like

"meddlesome," "obstinate," "infuriating."

I assure you, inspector...

on the other hand,

he also says that you're intuitive,

instinctive, and bloody useful,

if you'll forgive the expression.

But what I'm getting at

is that this is an official investigation,

and I will not tolerate any meddling.

I will be on my best behavior. I promise.

Blacker also employed the phrase

"deceptively cooperative."

Now then, what can you tell me

about this unpleasant business?

Well, for one thing,

I noticed there wasn't any paper.

In the typewriter.

He was sitting at the table
as though he had been typing,

and there wasn't any paper in the machine.

I thought that a bit odd,

especially since miss Belever
told me there was a paper

when she found the body,

but I do think Mr. Seracote was right.

What about?

That you should speak to him immediately.

He might be able to
tell you about the paper.

Mr. Seracote, would you step in here

for a moment, please?

What is this thing, by the way?

A dream, I'm afraid.

A rather utopian youth center...

a completely self-contained community.

Well... perhaps one day.

Miss Marple thinks that you might've

some information for me.
Thank you, miss Marple.

Please, no. Don't go on my account.

You already know most
of what I'm going to say.

Oh, very well.

What are you going to say, sir?

Christian gulbrandsen was murdered because

he must've known who has been trying,

slowly and coldbloodedly,
to poison my wife.

Poison your wife?

Yes. He was here two weeks ago,

and he noticed that my wife's

physical condition had been deteriorating.

What we all assumed to
be some form of influenza...

the muscle cramps, abdominal pain...

he suspected might be
symptoms of arsenic poisoning.

Arsenic?

Did he tell you this at the time?

No. He called me a few days ago.

He must have taken away
some evidence to check...

a glass, some food... I'm not sure.

When he arrived this evening,

he told me that his suspicions
had been definitely confirmed.

That's true.

I happened to overhear
part of the discussion

between Mr. Gulbrandsen and Mr. Seracote.

You were talking right under my window.

Excuse me!

Did Mr. Gulbrandsen say who he suspected?

No, and I'm not sure he knew,

but the murderer must've
thought that he knew.

And you've no idea what evidence he had?

No, but the only thing my wife ingests

that the rest of us don't is her medicine.

I managed to stop her taking some of this

earlier this evening.

I'll have sergeant lake
take this to be analyzed.

You'd better have this, too.

It's the letter that Christian was typing

when he was killed.

I took it out of the typewriter.

Well, unless miss Belever was lying,

he was the only one
who had the opportunity.

Who is Dr. Galbreath?

Bishop of Cromwell.

He's a friend of Christian's and my wife's,

also one of the foundation trustees.

"Dear Dr. Galbreath, I beg you to come

"to Stonygates once you
receive this. A crisis has arisen.

"I am at a loss how to deal with
it, and I don't know how much

"our dear Carrie Louise must be told.

"Not to beat about the
bush, I have reason to believe

"that that sweet and innocent lady

"is being slowly poisoned.

I first suspected this when"...

it stops there.

When he was shot, I imagine.

Why would the murderer
leave this in the typewriter?

No idea!

Perhaps he didn't realize
what Christian was writing,

or perhaps he didn't have time to check.

He heard someone coming,

and just had time to make his escape.

But I beg of you, inspector,

not to let my wife know
anything about this.

But, for her own safety,
she should be warned.

That may well be.

As miss Marple will confirm,

she will be devastated to learn

that someone near and
dear was trying to kill her.

"Near and dear"?

You've got 200 juvenile delinquents

within spitting distance.

Inspector, I'm obviously not an expert

on these matters, but
wouldn't a slow-poisoner

have to be someone
living within the family?

There are outsiders.

Yes. Steven Restorick, Dr. Hargrove,

and some servants,

but what motive would they have?

Who are the beneficiaries
of Carrie Louise's will?

Miss Marple, please!

Oh, sorry.

Yes.

Who are the beneficiaries
of Mrs. Seracote's will?

Just about everybody, I'm afraid.

Even Belever and Restorick
are given sizable bequests.

Stonygates would revert to the foundation.

But you as her husband
would benefit the most.

No, you see, four years ago,

Carrie Louise signed over

a third of her personal estate to me.

That way, I'm no longer one of her heirs.

I see. So, with the exception of yourself

and miss Marple here, everyone in the house

has a motive for killing your wife.

Nay, let them go. A couple of quiet ones.

Went they not quickly, I
should die with laughing.

Of all mad matches, never was the like.

Mistress, what is your
opinion of your sister?

That being mad herself, she's madly mated.

Ronnie, you're playing a young woman,

not a whistle only spaniels can hear.

That being mad herself,

she's madly mated.

I warrant him, Petruchio is Kated.

Though bride and bridegroom wants

for to supply the places at the table,

you know there wants
no junkets at the feast.

Lucentio, you shall supply
the bridegroom's place,

and let Bianca take her sister's room.

Shall sweet Bianca
practice how to bride it?

She shall, lucentio.
Come, gentlemen, let's go.

Alright, that's good enough for now.

I'll see you tomorrow night at 7:00 sharp.

Talking of madly mated, look who's here.

Ronnie told me he doesn't
wanna wear his dress anymore.

Bianca has to wear a dress.

Blast Ronnie and Bianca.

One of the boys may come back.

They should learn how grown-ups kiss.

I'm sure they already know,

but you could certainly teach
them some of the finer points.

Thanks for the recommendation,

but don't tell your neanderthal husband.

Afraid he'll knock you down again?

More than that.

Somebody around here kills people.

Come on. Wally has a bit of a temper,

but he could never kill anybody.

But you can't really be sure, can you?

Anyway, it won't last, you know?

What do you mean?

You and Wally.

You can't pretend you're
suited to each other.

The man's a walking sulk.

I know, but he used to be so much fun.

Really a dreadful change.

I haven't changed, have I?

Fortunately, you are just the same.

Remember how I used to
tag after you every holiday?

I used to think you were just
another bratty little teenager.

I was.

Well, the tables are
turned now, aren't they?

You've got me just where you want me.

Mmm... I know... and I love it.

See you later at the house.

Mr. Restorick.

I came to tell you that inspector curry

wants to talk to you, to everybody, really.

Oh... oh, it's just like a real theater.

Louis had this built about eight years ago.

Very good acoustics.

I've always felt that a great deal

of juvenile crime is due to exhibitionism.

The boys needing to feel like heroes.

Acting in plays can channel those needs

in a constructive direction.

What I'd really like is to start
up my own facility in London,

but I'm afraid that's a
rather costly ambition.

I used to do some work
with the St. Mary Mead

garden and theater club.

I was amazed at the way

it brought some people out of their shells.

Our only problem was
when Mrs. Forks-Moncrieff

ran off with one of the volunteer ushers.

Who's there?

I'll be right back, miss Marple.

Could be one of the lads
with vandalism on his mind.

Out, out, damn spot.

Out, I say.

One, two, why then, 'tis time to do it.

Hell is murky.

Fie, my lord, fie! A soldier and afeard?

What need we fear that knows it

when none can call our power to account?

Yet who would have
thought the old man to have

so much blood in him?

The quality of mercy is not strained.

It droppeth as the
gentle rain from heaven...

Upon the place beneath.

At the time of this attempt
on miss Marple's life,

Mr. Seracote was with me,

and Mrs. Seracote had already retired,

so, I will need to know
where everyone else was

at roughly 10:30 P.M.

I was in the library reading.

Alone?

One usually reads alone, inspector.

Yes, I'm sorry if all this offends you,

but there is obviously
a killer running around.

But this business could've
been an accident, you know?

The equipment here isn't exactly west-end.

Even in the west end
theater, a cut rope is a cut rope,

and this rope was definitely cut.

I was afraid it might have been.

It must have been one of those young thugs.

Which one of us would
want to kill aunt Jane?

Why would any of us
want to kill your brother?

Mr. Restorick, you were
on the premises, I believe.

Not really.

I thought I heard somebody backstage,

but I didn't see anyone so I went on out.

You know, maybe somebody lurking about.

I dashed back in when I heard the crash.

You didn't see anyone going in or out?

No, but there are two
other doors backstage.

And nobody saw you dashing in or out?

No. No one.

Inspector, I was in my office

in the school.

I'm afraid no one saw me either.

Do you know where Edgar Lawson was?

Asleep in his room, I think.

I gave him rather heavy
sedation after that gun non-sense.

Mr. Marcum, where were you?

Walking down by the lake.

Alone, I'm sure.

Yes.

I was in our room alone.

It's not very helpful, all this, is it?

I don't believe any of us
thought we'd need an alibi.

Oh, one of you might have.

You haven't asked,

but I was with Mrs. Seracote in her room.

Was she awake?

Not all of the time.

Yes, well, that will be all for the moment.

I'll be back tomorrow morning.

I suggest you all get a good night's sleep.

Oh, there's one more thing.

I don't wish to sound
melodramatic about this,

but I would strongly recommend
that you all lock your doors.

You amaze me, Jane.

Almost killed last night,

and bright as a button this morning.

I think not being killed
raises one's spirits.

I think that inspector

should get Wally and
force the truth out of him.

Mildred!

That's quite an accusation, my dear.

I'm sorry, but that's how I feel.

Why?

He's the only real stranger amongst us.

Gina only brought him over last summer,

and secondly, he's American.

So many of them have
that streak of violence.

I suppose it's watching all
those dreadful television shows.

And then, look at the way he behaves.

He can't stand the sight of any of us.

And anyway, he's got all those guns.

Just a couple of target weapons.

What reason could he possibly have

to kill your brother?

Perhaps Christian found out something

murky about his past.

He came from Chicago, didn't he?

Well, that's where all gangsters are.

I must say he hasn't
exactly fitted in here at all.

He seems to have no sympathy or interest

in anything we try to do.

Excuse me, Mrs. Seracote.

This was just delivered for you.

Oh, thank you. A box of chocolates.

I just love presents.

Oh, from Steven. How sweet.

Jane?

Good morning.

Oh, Steven.

Carrie Louise would like to thank you

for the chocolates.

Chocolates? What chocolates?

These. They came with your card.

It looks a little like my handwriting,

but I'm afraid I wasn't that thoughtful.

Has anyone seen
inspector curry this morning?

He's with Dr. Hargrove in the library.

I think I'll take these with me.

You'd think there was a bomb

in that box of chocolates.

I suppose with all that's been happening,

Louis wants to be extra careful.

I can't see playing a game at this time.

It's disgusting,

and not even a black armband between you.

I shouldn't think anyone
brought anything like that.

They couldn't possibly have known.

Christian is my brother.
He's my half brother.

You'd think some respect would be paid.

No offense, aunt Mildred.

I cared a great deal for uncle Christian,

but I hate wearing black.

It may be alright

for housekeepers and receptionists, but...

well, I'd expect that
attitude from you, but...

now, it's not that important, is it?

Yes, it is.

My brother's dead, and
nobody seems to care.

And you! You always take their side.

I'm always in the
wrong, and I'm sick of it!

So, almost anyone

had the opportunity to poison the medicine

and put a bullet into gulbrandsen.

We might do better to
concentrate on motive.

Who really needs money
from Carrie Louise's estate?

They all do.

I know that Steven would
like to start up in London.

Juliet Belever would have enough

for her retirement cottage.

She has been looking after
the medicine, hasn't she?

As for the Marcums, they don't
have any money to speak of,

and she has expensive tastes, that one.

And he might be happy to have enough money

to get his wife away from here

before she forms another attachment.

And the delightful Mildred, of course,

would get the lion's share
of her mother's inheritance,

and then she wouldn't have to play

assistant nursemaid anymore, would she?

Hmm... do you know what puzzles me?

I know what puzzles me. Who
sent those poisoned chocolates?

Oh, they were poisoned, by the way.

I assumed so.

What puzzles me is how
lucky our murderer was.

If Edgar Lawson hadn't
lost his wits like that,

we wouldn't have been
focusing our attention

on the scene in there,

and might have noticed
someone slipping off.

Yes, I think our young Mr. Lawson

knows a great deal more, perhaps,

than he's letting on.

One of our suspects could've paid him

to create that little diversion.

What do you think?

I think I'm going to do
a little bird-watching.

I beg your pardon?

Just now, flying by the window,

I think I saw a silver-throated dasher.

Did you?

I'll see you later.

A silver-throated dasher?

It's alright.

I rather fancy this spot.

I had a devil of a time getting away.

I had to get all those lights put back up.

Why this cloak-and-dagger,
middle of the maze business?

You know what?

There's no sense getting
the wind up till we go public.

Do you really think we've
got reputations left to protect?

What I wanna know is,
when are you gonna tell Wally

you're divorcing him and marrying me?

Do you think you can afford me?

I'll find ways.

Then what if Wally doesn't want a divorce?

That's his problem.

Every woman should make one mistake.

It's a stage, like puberty.

Your husband may be very
intense, which women adore.

But intensity is terribly tedious

in the home, isn't it?

Believe me, Gina darling, with me

you will find life a constant surprise.

Well, I... I shall have
to think about it a little.

Of course, but just a little.

I really adore you,

and you won't find a better offer.

You can come out now, aunt Jane.

Oh, I know you're there.

So, were you entertained?

I couldn't help overhearing.

Couldn't help?! You were eavesdropping.

Just like at the theater last night.

Steven told me you overheard every word.

I happened to be watching a rehearsal.

Just like you happened to be in the maze?

I'm sorry, Gina.

So, what's the verdict?

Jezebel, strumpet, trollop, what?

I'm not going to judge you.

I only know that you have a
husband who worships you.

He puts me on some stupid pedestal.

Do you think that's what I want?

I don't know what you want. Do you?

Maybe I want it all,
just like everybody else.

Maybe, maybe I want every man I meet

to fall in love with me.

Maybe I want my freedom
and enough money to enjoy it.

And how do you propose to get all that?

I'll poison grandmother
for her inheritance.

Gina!

I'm not a child any more, aunt Jane.

All that business with Louis
taking the medicine away

and the box of chocolates...

it was all so obvious that I
know what you're thinking.

That I could actually be capable

of doing such a thing...
and I am, you know.

Anything I want, I usually get.

I could have killed uncle Christian, too.

While everybody was concentrating

on that twit, Edgar,
and his stupid threats,

I could've slipped out, shot the old man,

and been back before
anyone knew I was gone.

Gina, you mustn't talk like that.

But it's all true, and you know it.

There's just one problem, isn't there?

Nobody will ever be able to prove it.

You're quite good at that.

If that cop finds out, he'll
probably clap me in irons,

or whatever they do over here.

I'm the number-one suspect anyhow.

Did inspector curry tell you that?

He didn't have to. It's obvious.

I blew the fuse, I was out of the room

when that old guy got nailed,

it was my gun that the kid had,

and, besides all that, I'm an American.

You know what they're like.

Mildred thinks you may be a gangster.

Yeah? Well, maybe I am.

I don't believe it.

I visited Chicago once.
Met some very nice people.

I'm sure you didn't meet my family.

Not exactly high society.

It doesn't seem to have bothered Gina.

Not then, but now everything seems to.

Since we came here...

She's like a whole different person.

Why didn't you go back to the states

and finish medical school?

I suppose I should have...

But she just seemed to
want to stay here so much.

I just... I don't know.

I just went along with it.

That might have been a mistake.

You're telling me? I hardly
even see her anymore.

Always off with Mr. Artsy-craftsy.

Like right now.

I won't have you interfering.

Interfering? She's my mother!

It is my responsibility
to take care of her,

and I know how to do that better than you.

The only thing you know is
how to be arrogant and rude!

It's time for her walk.
If you'll excuse me.

Oh!

Oh, aunt Jane.

I-I'm sorry.

Someone told me I can
find some tea in here.

I hate that woman.

She does seem... rather officious.

And mother just lets her
lead her around by the nose.

Oh, I'm sorry. I better pick it up.

Mildred, I'm sorry we haven't had

a chance for a talk.

It hasn't exactly been the situation

for little chats.

No, that's true.

I'm terribly sorry about your brother.

Apparently, you're the only one who is.

Nobody seems to even care who murdered him.

O-Oh, I just heard that you
lost your husband recently.

I didn't know.

Yes, well, he'd been ill for several years.

That must have been very hard for you.

Hard? Not at all.

He was a wonderful man. I
was glad I could do what I could

to make his last years more comfortable.

You know what it feels like
to be needed, really needed?

I never knew until I was married.

I was always just...
here sitting in corners,

being ignored, just as I am now!

Your mother cares for
you more than you know.

And that's why she
brings in all these strays,

and practically cuts me out of her life.

That's not fair, Mildred.

The tea's in the kitchen.

Somehow, the answer's in this room.

I know it.

Nothing else you can
remember about last night?

Just what I told you.

Then, we'll go through it all again.

Belever and Marcum were out of the room.

Either of them a possible murderer.

Restorick was at the piano.
Mrs. Marcum was over there.

Either one of them could have sneaked out.

And what about daughter Mildred?

Oh, I doubt she'd kill her own brother.

Oh, do you now?

Did you know there was some doubt

about the way her husband died?

I thought it was cancer.

Some people last for years with cancer,

but when the vicar died,

there was no attending physician,

and she had him cremated the very next day.

You really suspect her?!

I suspect everybody in this bloody house.

Take your spirited young
friend, Gina Marcum.

Did you know that her mother was adopted?

Yes, Pippa.

Yes, but did you know who her mother was?

Pippa's mother, I mean. Frances Ellsworth.

The, the actress...

Who poisoned her husband with arsenic?

And was hanged for it in 1943.

Don't you find it more
than a passing interest?

That Gina Marcum's grandmother

was a convicted arsenic-poisoner?

Quite a family.

They got quite a taste in music alright.

Shostakovich, Tschaikowsky,

Rachmaninoff. All the russkies.

Oh, please, sergeant.

Oh, it's more like it. Handel's "largo,"

"Clair de lune."

♪ I know a lovely girl... ♪

Inspector... over here, sir.

Steven Restorick was sitting there.

It could have been put there later.

Or he could have meant
to take it away earlier.

Let's ask him.

Sergeant.

Oh, excuse me.

Miss belever... have
you seen Mr. Restorick?

Oh, I'm afraid he's no longer here.

What do you mean he's no longer here?

I mean, he packed his bags,
and he left about an hour ago.

He didn't say where he was going.

I can't believe it.

Somebody trying to poison me?

I tried to keep it from
you as long as I could,

but now, with all that's happened,

and Steven running away...

you knew about this, Jane?

I'm afraid so.

It's just not true. Any of it.

I suppose I've been living outside reality

for some time now.

I think I'd like to go to my room alone,

if you don't mind.

Oh, inspector, come here.

What does it look like? The room.

Oh... old, stuffy... rich.

But think of it as a stage set

with a large, star-studded cast.

Some on stage, some in the wings,

props at the ready, houselights dim,

curtain up, noises off,

entrances here, exits there,

conflict, action, climax, curtain down,

thunderous applause... what do you think?

If you'll forgive me for saying so,

you're beginning to sound as bonkers

as everybody else in this place.

I came to tell you that London

have picked up Steven Restorick

getting off the train
at Paddington station.

They're sending him straight back here.

Did he give any excuse for running away?

He claims he wasn't running away at all.

He claims he was just tired of this place

and decided to move back to London.

Not a very plausible story, is it?

It's a bloody lie, is what it is.

You think Steven is our murderer?

I hope so. I really do hope so.

You're really jealous
of Steven, aren't you?

Don't I have a reason to be?

It's the theater.

I get a lot of satisfaction
out of my work there.

Out of your work? Are you sure that's all?

That's an ugly thing to say.

Yeah? The only reason that you're here now

instead of that stupid theater

is because Steven pulled
his little disappearing act.

We're together all the time.

Oh, excuse me.

No, come in. No, I need
somebody to hear this.

I need a witness in case there's a divorce.

Somebody to testify how he talks to me.

Come on, Gina.

Are you ashamed of
whatever it is you have to say?

We'll talk later.

You say whatever you want
now, or don't say it. I mean that.

Oh, don't worry about aunt Jane.

I doubt there's anything you
can say she doesn't already know.

Alright. Okay.

What I was going to say

is that I am fed up with it here,

and I am fed up with you.

Are you really?

Yeah, really.

We didn't know that much about one another.

I mean, about each other's background.

The only thing that counted

was how much we loved each other

and all the great times that we had,

and you can't tell me that we didn't.

They were alright.

They were a hell of a
lot better than "alright,"

and you know it. Until we got here,

and then everything started falling apart.

I mean, suddenly, everybody treats me

like I'm the village leper.

You're being ridiculous.

Am I? Yes!

Well, I'm leaving,

and I'm going back to the states next week.

I'm gonna finish up med school,

and I'm going to start my
own practice somewhere,

and I'm going to start my own life.

Well, you can just buy one ticket

because I don't care if
I never see you again.

I was a stupid little
fool ever to marry you,

and I'll get a divorce as soon as I can.

And I hope when you get home,

you find some boring,
miserable, little frump

who makes you realize how
lucky you were to have me!

Fine! Great! Now we
know just where we stand.

And it's your loss.

I'm sorry, Wally.

I have to see Carrie Louise.

Oh, mother...

oh, I didn't know you were busy.

Well, we're not really busy, are we, Jane?

Well, I-I suppose I
just wanted to apologize

for acting the way I did.

Oh, that's quite alright.

Is there anything I can get
you? Some tea or something?

No, thank you, dear.

Miss Belever's tending to that.

Oh, yes, of course she is.

Alright, then.

Oh, dear.

I wish she could be happier.

Mildred reminds me of Mary Alice Runacre

back in St. Mary Mead.

Tended her invalid father for 20 years,

and when he finally died, everybody said,

"oh, finally, Mary Alice is free,

and can make a life for herself."

And she did mean to travel,

but her first trip was to visit
an elderly aunt in Cornwall.

Unfortunately, the aunt
had recently been bedridden,

so Mary Alice offered to
stay a while and help out.

That was five years ago. As
far as I know, she's still there.

Really?

Yes.

You see, taking care of
people was what she did best,

and what gave her the most pleasure.

Some people are like that.

You told me that story for a reason.

Didn't you, Jane?

It was just a story.

By the way,

uh... do you have any nail scissors handy?

Nail scissors? Whatever for?

I know it sounds ridiculous,

but could you give me some nail clippings?

What do you expect me to do with these?

Analyze them.

You do have some sort of dispensary

or laboratory here, don't you?

Yes. What's the point?

A chemical analysis of Carrie Louise's

fingernails would determine

what kind of poison she was given.

If I were you, miss Marple,
I wouldn't waste my time.

Oh, I have lots of time, doctor.

Well, I haven't,

not for foolishness like this.

You know very well it
isn't foolishness, don't you?

First thing in the morning, then.

Thank you.

Alright, you meddling old witch!

How much do you know?

I'd put that away, doctor.

Oh, I see, a trap.

Alright, outta my way!

Come on, both of you,
around here. Come on, move!

Now, don't move, or I'll kill her,

and don't think I won't.

Stay there!

Cut across the park.

Try and stop him at the gate!

Are you alright?

I've been better, thank you.

Come on.

Okay, open the gates. Open the gates!

Now, get out! Get out!

Stay where you are!

He's a goner, I'm afraid, sir.

Well, that's that, then.

Not quite.

I'm afraid we still have
a murderer in our midst.

Restorick still won't explain

why he ran away.

He claimed he doesn't
know a thing about that gun.

But what I want to know is,
what put you onto Dr. Hargrove?

I suddenly remembered
who Edgar reminded me of.

Not really the answer I was looking for.

Watch what you're doing,

you bloody young hooligan!

Hardly the Stonygates spirit.

The Stonygates spirit

is beginning to nauseate me.

When are you going to call London?

The gulbrandsen offices should be open now.

We really need to know
what Christian was up to.

It's a question of motive.

Of hargrove?

Partly. It's very complicated.

It's just possible I may
be able to understand.

Soon, I promise,

but Edgar is the key to the whole thing.

Obstinate, infuriating...

inspector blacker was right about you.

Didn't he also say, "bloody useful"?

Alright, I'll have sergeant lake

bring young Edgar across for questioning.

You look surprised.

I suppose I am.

Me, too, actually.

I can't even explain how it happened.

After our little screaming match yesterday,

I went up to our room, slammed some doors,

threw some things about,

then I sat down to think about
what it was I really wanted.

Your husband?

Isn't it amazing?

I mean, I married him because I loved it

that he was so strong,

so committed to all the
things he wanted to do.

And then, when we got here,

he became so... I don't know...

ineffectual... until yesterday.

I guess that's why

I must have turned down Steven's proposal.

When did you do that?

Yesterday morning.

Even before Wally told me off like that.

I mean, wasn't he wonderful?

Like the hero out of some old cowboy movie.

Or a Shakespeare play.

Was I really being a shrew?

Kate's a much nicer role than Jezebel.

Oh!

Yes, I see.

Four years ago.

Yes, I understand.

Oh, certainly need a copy. Yes.

Alright, I'll do that, and
thank you very much indeed.

What you expected?

More or less.

I'm beginning to see what you were after.

Ah! Mr. Lawson. Sit down.

I've got some questions for you, lad.

I've already told everybody.

I didn't mean to do it.
Something came over me.

No more lies, boy.

Just tell us who put you up to it.

Nobody put me up to nothing.

Oh, come off it!

Somebody gave you that gun

and told you to threaten
Mr. Seracote with it.

And we know who it was! The
one who killed Mr. Gulbrandsen.

No.

You're an accessory to murder, boy.

Just tell me the truth, and
we might go easy on you.

I don't know anything.

Twenty years to life!
That's what you're facing.

The same as if you
pulled the trigger yourself!

Now, tell us the truth!

Boy! Come back here!

Lawson!

Lawson!

Come back here, Lawson!

Lawson, stop!

Stop, I said!

Come back!

Sergeant, get round to the other side!

Hurry!

Edgar!

That boat's rotten. It will sink!

Edgar!

Aaah!

Help! Can't swim!

Sergeant! Come back here!

No, no, sir, please! We
don't wanna lose you as well.

I need a hand with the boat.

I can't swim!

Sergeant!

I can't swim!

Help!

Help me, please!

Help!

I can't find him, sir!

Keep looking! Keep looking!

No, sir, it's no good!

I can't see a thing. It's too muddy!

We'll get a crew down to drag the bottom.

I'm sorry, Mr. Seracote.

Well... what now?

According to you, that lad
was the key to everything.

He was.

That key is never going
to unlock anything now.

We'll just have to do
it ourselves, won't we?

And, I must say, I had my
doubts when she told me.

However, we've done some checking,

and her theory seems to
hold up very well indeed.

But, as it's her show,

there's no reason why
she shouldn't take the stage.

Miss Marple.

Oh.

Well, that's what it's all about, isn't it?

The stage, the theater, illusion,

like a magician using
mirrors to fool the audience.

But first, one small detail.

Steven, you bolted because
Gina had turned you down,

and you wanted to be
some place away from here

to lick your wounds, isn't that right?

But we still have the problem

of someone trying to poison
our dear Carrie Louise.

Poison mother?

What are you talking about?

Perhaps some of you are unaware

that the entire investigation

of Christian's murder

was based on the assumption

that someone was trying
to poison Carrie Louise.

The theory was that Christian

might know the identity of the poisoner,

and was therefore killed to keep him quiet.

But that's nonsense!
Who would poison mother?

There was evidence, you see?

Firstly, Mrs. Seracote's illness.

The symptoms could have been the result

of slow arsenic poisoning.

Mr. Seracote said that Mr. Gulbrandsen

had told him that's exactly what they were.

And then, there was the letter
in Mr. Gulbrandsen's typewriter

telling how he'd discovered
the poisoning plot.

In fact, poison was discovered
in Mrs. Seracote's medicine

and in the chocolates
which were delivered to her.

That's some pretty solid evidence.

Carrie Louise's physical condition could be

exactly what it appears...
the result of a mild flu,

plus the sad toll the
years take on all of us.

And you see, the letter in the typewriter

could have been written

not by Christian, but by the murderer.

And the medicine and the chocolates

could have been doctored later

to give the firm impression

that there was a poisoner afoot.

Then you mean grandmother
wasn't being poisoned?

Exactly. Thank the lord.

But if there wasn't a poisoner,

then what in the world

brought Christian down
here in the first place?

Inspector?

Well, earlier today, I rang
Mr. Gulbrandsen's office

and found that on the
afternoon before he arrived here,

he had received a preliminary audit

of Stonygates finances.

It was obvious that there
had been gross irregularities

and a full accounting was ordered,

which is now in progress.

And at miss Marple's suggestion,

we had them dig a
little further into the files.

We found that four years ago,

Mr. Gulbrandsen, on
behalf of the foundation,

had turned down a plan by Dr. Hargrove

to establish a fully
self-contained youth center.

The model of it is still
in Mr. Seracote's study.

Yes, of course it is.

It's my opinion,

and I'm quite sure that the
accounting will bear me out,

that in the last few years,
tens of thousands of pounds

have been embezzled from
the gulbrandsen foundation

to set up this center independently.

That's damned unfair.

You're slandering a dead man.

Please, Mr. Seracote.

Miss Marple has a few more
enlightening things to tell us.

Dr. Hargrove must have thought

the youth center would
bring him international fame

as a psychologist.

People do strange things
pursuing a dream of glory.

But I still can't believe that
he would actually kill people.

Oh, I could. He tried to kill me twice.

He dropped those lights
on me at the theater.

He thought he'd be safer
with me out of the way.

And then he tried again

when you brought him those nail clippings.

Persistent devil, wasn't he?

He knew that an analysis
of Carrie Louise's nails

would prove that she'd never

been subjected to any kind of poison.

If there wasn't a
poisoner, then we would be

onto the real reason
for Christian's visit...

the embezzlement.

Then hargrove killed uncle Christian

because he discovered the embezzlement?

No, Dr. Hargrove

was in the room when
we heard the first shot.

Yes he was, wasn't he?

And he shouted to Louis through the door.

And you said that you
could cope with Edgar.

I remember.

But then, if Dr. Hargrove
didn't murder my brother,

who did?

Another person to whom

that youth center had become an obsession,

the one who thought of
the whole poison story,

and the one who actually
engineered the embezzlement.

I'm afraid Christian's murderer is you...

Mr. Seracote.

This is insane.

When Christian was killed,

I was in the study
almost being killed myself.

You were all there. You heard it.

Yes, but we didn't see it, did we?

But what's the difference?

Oh, a great deal, Mr. Seracote.

What first put me onto it

was that Edgar kept reminding
me of someone back home,

and I suddenly remembered who it was...

a foolish young man named Leonard Wylie,

a dentist... his father was a dentist, too,

but he got old, and his hand began to shake

so all of the patients preferred the son.

The old man was miserable.
Oh, he moped around.

So, Leonard began to pretend that he drank.

He doused himself with
whiskey, and he staggered about,

and slurred his speech, and all that.

You see, his idea was that the patients

would then go back to the father.

Well, anybody with good sense

would know what was going to happen.

All the patients went to
another dentist, Mr. Reilly.

The irony of it was that I always thought

Leonard was a most unconvincing drunkard.

He always seemed to overdo it,

just as Edgar seemed to overdo everything.

But Edgar was putting on his little act

for the benefit of the one person here

who was the closest he'd
ever had to a real father.

Again, you, Mr. Seracote.

We all know that Edgar
belonged to the theater group

and that he could be counted
on to do his part well enough.

So, while you crept out of the study,

ran around to Christian's room

and killed him,

Dr. Hargrove and Edgar

performed their lines in person

taking their cues from
your tape-recorded voice.

You do use a tape recorder. I've seen it.

And there were the two
bullet holes in your books.

They were exactly where
your head would have been

if you'd been sitting behind the desk.

A thorough search of the
house will probably turn up

a pair of gloves you used
with powder marks on them,

or possibly your fingerprints
on Mr. Gulbrandsen's typewriter.

In any case, a full audit...

where are you going?

Well, um... The game's up, isn't it?

I thought you might like to have the tape

that I used.

It's in the study.

Sergeant lake, be careful.

He's got my gun in his study.

Don't worry, inspector.

He won't try to escape.

He sneaked out of that
room once before, ma'am.

No, no, don't come in, sir.

Please.

I'm afraid when an
idealist becomes a fanatic,

the line between right and wrong

becomes a blur.

But he wasn't a bad man, was he?

What he wanted was good.

And he was ready to risk his own life

to save Edgar Lawson from drowning.

And he did love me very much,

and I loved him.

I always will.

Aunt Jane, I believe I owe
you a debt of gratitude, too,

because mother tells me it's thanks to you

that miss belever was given the sack.

Well, have a good journey.

Jane, how did you figure it all out?

Actually, you were the key to the solution.

Me?

You won't be offended,
but people always say

that you live in this never-never land,

that you're not really
in touch with reality.

I suppose it's true.

No, you were the only one around here

who could separate reality from illusion.

And when you kept insisting

that no one could
possibly try to poison you,

I had to rethink what we'd all assumed

was the reality, and
once I'd accepted the idea

that you were not being poisoned,

then it all fell into place.

Ready to go, aunt Jane?

It's alright.

Gina has promised to drive very slowly.

Maybe I was wrong.

Maybe you're not as in
touch with reality as I thought.

Better come, aunt Jane,
or we'll miss your train.

There's someone else in St. Mary Mead

that you remind me of... Lucy Bond.

No, don't say it.

All these little village parallels.

They've all got a sting in the tail.

You really are wicked, you know.

Oh!

These are for you

because you remind me of my old mum.