Original subtitles

Mr. Go Branson, Miss Jane Marple is here for her appointment.

Jane. Christian. How good of you to come.

Oh, no trouble at all.

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

Well, come in, please.

That report. It hasn't arrived yet, Mr.

Branson. All right.

Thanks. That's all, Miss Valentine.

Well, please, sit down.

You look marvelous, Jane.

Not a day older.

It's only four or five years since you saw me last at Stonygate.

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?

Oh, not really new.

They've been married for over 10 years now.

Yes, but that's him.

Lewis Cerricold. 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. Well, that's

my half-sister Mildred, but of course you know that.

Yes, of course I know Mildred.

Yes. Christian, what is it?

What? 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?

The point is, I thought I'd have certain information by now, and I'm afraid

I don't. Is it a concern with Carrie Louise?

She's all right, isn't she?

Well, that's it, you see.

I'm not sure she is.

Jane, is there any way you could spare a few days to pay a little visit?

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

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

Not until I'm absolutely sure.

I'm sorry, but if you could take a morning train, I'll be down myself tomorrow

evening, and I'll be able to explain it all to you then.

You're forgetting me.

Very worried. Oh, I suppose I must be.

And I'm worried too, more than you can imagine.

My stepmother's very dear to me.

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

I can be at Stony Gate by early afternoon tomorrow.

Oh, that's marvelous.

And if you would, could you just say you had this sudden whim to sear?

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

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

Yes. I'm afraid it is.

I'm afraid it is.

Miss Marpley, it's Jane Marple.

That's right. I'll make galous.

I'll miss the Syraculter system.

I can't affect you.

I'm very pleased to meet you, Mr.

Hoss. Yeah, if you just follow me, I've got a van round the back.

Thank goodness. I was so afraid I was going to be late.

I wish your train trip absolutely red -sheeted had to be.

Would you have something to eat?

You must be starved.

Well, actually, I had some fruit and cheese with me.

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

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

I'm Gina. Gina?

Gina! Pimple's daughter!

Of course! I didn't recognize you, but actually, you were nine years

old when I saw you last.

I remember. 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 Stony Gates.

Oh, 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.

Oh, go on.

I don't think Mr.

Lawson is too pleased.

Well, perhaps I was a little hard on him, but Edgar's such a pompous little twit.

Pimple's daughter! I should have known you straight away.

You're just exactly 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 Pimple 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 Miltree.

Oh, Miltree married a bicker of somebody, didn't she?

Yes, but he died of cancer last year, so she's moved back to Stony Gates.

Mostly hangs about looking like a rain cloud, I'm afraid.

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.

But after the accident, she even joined the county wheelchairs.

Still race.

Blessed she came in four.

You know, it's been so long since you visited Stony Gates.

You'll hardly recognize the place.

Louis has turned Stony Gates into a prison.

Oh, well not really a prison.

Sort of a rehabilitation center for juvenile delinquents.

Like that boy at the station.

He said he was Mr.

Seracle's assistant. Oh, Edgar.

Oh, he has it the brains for that.

Do you know where they put him away in the first place?

He used to go around claiming his father was Sir Lawrence Olivier or Paul McCartney

or just anyone.

And anyway, Louis likes to make them feel like they're all part of a family.

So they're given these little jobs to do and that sort of thing.

Do you think that's sensible?

I don't think we'll probably all be murdered in our beds one night.

Kia! You

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

Um, you were telling me about life at Stony Gates.

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? Steven Restrick, a young Repertory Director who was hired about seven or

eight years ago to do the theater business.

The grandmother sort of adopted him.

How is your grandmother?

Well, I'm afraid to be shocked when you see her.

I'm really 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, I'm afraid, but she still gets herself made up like the bell

of the ball.

But lately she's had a touch of flu or something.

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.

Malcolm. They

have a gate guard?

Oh yes, until midnight.

That's Jerome Davis.

Court exposing himself in St.

Paul's. I suppose we all

worship in our own way.

Oh, Aunt Jade, I'm so glad you're here.

I think I saw their mother just now, down by the lake with Mildred.

Oh, would you go and say hello while I pull the car around?

Oh yes. I'll see you later at tea.

Yes, of course, of course.

And thank you for the ride.

It was unique.

I'll take you out tomorrow and we'll rarely open a rob.

Mother, don't you think you've had enough exercise for this afternoon?

This is the same walk we take every day.

Still, Mildred dear.

This fellow 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.

Karen Louise!

Oh, Jane.

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.

Oh, oh, you remember my daughter Mildred, of course.

Mildred, I'm glad you could come.

And this is our housekeeper, Miss Berver, 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 was,

you know, 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 Markham.

But that is not he.

That is Stephen Resturick.

There's Wally.

Hey, that's my wife.

I think you're doing it.

Leave her alone.

Hold it! Wally, stop it!

Mr. Markham's an American.

Stephen, do you fight?

I want you to meet my husband.

He's quite a marvelous man.

Come, come here.

Teddy 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 terms.

I'm going to cover your sincerely Lewis -Surrick hood.

Well, you have to be Jane Marple, no?

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?

A brilliant psychologist and the resident genius of our little program here.

No, you're being far too modest, Mr.

Seracolle. Without you there wouldn't even be a Stenegate's Institute.

Nonsense! It's all your show.

I just try to refine the boys' talents of their...

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, that sort of thing.

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.

Oh, Max, don't be too hard on young Timmy Welcroft for stealing those biscuits.

Boys at that age just get hungry.

I'll tell him you've advised Master.

Well, do 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 on, baby.

Oh, this is lovely.

Quite. Nice.

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, uh, talk 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 it to me when he arrives tonight.

You know Carrie Louise's world, don't you?

She's found some secret, enchanted place in this world where nothing ugly ever

seems to reach her.

She made me 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. Saragold convinced Christian Goldbertson 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 the community rather than outcasts from one.

Except all they are is a bunch of teenage hoods.

I'm afraid Mr.

Markham 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 learnt a thing.

I suggest you back off, okay?

Margaret, is your mother going to join us?

I hope it does she lie down for a bit before supper.

Then I'd better bring up 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 nutcase.

Most of us are a little mad, Mr.

Markham. 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 kind of dastardly plot against him when he couldn't

get to play Richard III.

Like I said, another nutcase.

If you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a little walk.

Well, going snooping aren't you?

Oh, these, no.

I'm afraid I'm just an old-fashioned bird watcher.

I've heard there are some bearded readlings in this part of the country.

Oh, Aunt Jane.

Aunt Jane. That boy out there, clipping the hedge.

He spent six months in Bolstoff for cushing old ladies and stealing their purses.

Here. Oh,

you gave me quite a start.

You've been watching me.

What? Don't lie.

You've been watching me 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 what's going on?

They want me out of 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 readlings. I've been betrayed.

Betrayed by whom?

By the one person in the world I trusted.

The one who wants to get rid of me will he won't get away with it.

Who's he?

My father. The orphanage falsified the record, so I wouldn't guess the truth, but

I know now I'll throw his lies in his face.

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's best to get some outside advice.

Yes, I suppose so.

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

It's Carrier Louise who had to consider an hour.

Yes. Well, we'd better get in.

I'll go out and change.

We'll talk more after dinner.

Jay, I'm so glad you're here.

You've seen my stepmother.

Of course. How does she seem?

Her health, I mean.

Oh, she's had a bout with a flu, except for them.

What about her heart?

Well, I don't know.

It's all right, I suppose.

Christian, Lewis told me.

Yes, sir. Darling.

You look wonderful.

Well, I'm delighted you think so.

Well, it's true.

If you'll have a moment, Max.

I'd like you to look at those staff recommendations.

I'll be happy to.

They're very encouraging, I think.

Christian, you simply must tell me what's going on.

Miss Bellover, I want to 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?

I mean, doesn't show up for six months at a time.

And here he is, twice in a fortnight.

Foundation business with lured flesh, I suppose.

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

Always looks just like a millionaire's shirt.

And how is that?

Perfectly immaculate and just a touch smug.

I'm working on the look.

You've got the smoke part down gold.

You being surly again, old man?

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

Aren't you supposed to be at the theatre watching your little gangster's play

dresser? A bit later, yes.

A lot more fun than just sitting around watching my wife support me.

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

Oh, where? When Gina's money runs out.

I don't have to take this garbage.

Get your hand in the way.

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

The boys are just being boys.

Someday they might even groin to men.

Excuse me, Mrs.

Seracow. Master,

I suppose I must...

Dolly! Mrs. Dolly, I, uh...

I don't think you should take this tonight.

Why are you then not?

Well, I'm not, uh, sure.

It really agrees with you.

Really, Mr. Seracow, the prescription says four times a day.

Yes, well, she won't listen to one evening.

That stupid circuit, it must have overloaded somewhere.

I'll put another fuse in it.

One is very clever with electrical things.

That's about all he does, do.

There you are.

Oh, go, Sania.

What's the matter with you?

You betrayed me.

You inspired me.

Thank you. Now, please calm down, eh?

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

I know I'm saying right enough.

He's been planning to get rid of me.

Come on. Come along.

Now, we'll just talk this thing out, hm?

Just you and me.

I'll take him back to the dormitory.

Give him a sip.

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.

That's a lie.

That all lies.

You are my father.

That's simply not true.

You've taken away my name, my birthright, everything.

Put that gun away.

You're killing me.

It's crazy.

Edgar loves Lewis.

He won't hurt him.

It's locked. I'll get my keys.

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

And if I put it away, you'd come after me, wouldn't you?

It was outside.

A car, backfiring or something.

Edgar, this is Dr.

Nagro. Now, open the door.

It's all right, Max.

I can handle it.

You sure? Of course I'm sure.

Edgar's not stupid.

He'll listen to reason.

You're not stupid, are you?

No, but you must think I am if you imagine I'm going to put this gun

away. What good would shooting me do?

This much good.

Oh, my God.

Edgar, please. Let's it in.

Edgar, please.

Edgar! Lewis,

darling. It's all right, my dear.

What the hell's going on?

That man tried to kill Lewis.

I'll telephone the police.

There's no need for that, Miss Belliver.

That's all right, darling.

Max, come here, Edgar.

It didn't mean to shoot.

Something just came over.

It's my gun.

You stole this out of my room.

I don't remember.

You better lock it up.

Save keeping.

Come on, Ed.

Let's get back to your room.

Give me 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.

Grubransen's been killed.

Somebody shot him in the head.

Chris. I'm sorry, my darling.

I know how much you cared for it.

I wish to God you would have been spared this.

Nobody can spare anybody anything.

Things just have to be faced.

According to what we know so far, Mr.

Grubransen was killed at short range.

Probably by a shot from a .38 caliber pistol.

What you thought might have been the car backfiring at the time was almost certainly

the fatal shot.

At that moment, Mr.

Serical was in that room there.

In threatened by a young man named Edward Lawson.

And with the exception of Mr.

Malcolm and Miss Belliver, you were all in this room here until the body was

discovered. Somebody care to add anything to all that?

Just that we appreciate your allowing Mrs.

Serical these few moments to herself.

I'll take that as a no, Miss Marvel.

The Miss Belliver, what made you call in on Mr.

Grubransen? Well, after Mr.

Serical was almost murdered, I thought I ought to explain all the noise to

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

The gun going off was an accident.

Oh, begging your pardon, sir.

It did put two rather nasty hoes in your book collection.

But not in me.

That could have been the accident.

By the way, Mr.

Restorek, you were playing the piano.

How long did you continue?

You mean did I accompany that little scene in a den with a gentle obligato 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 theatre.

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

I mean what, we have over 200 delinquent punks.

They 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 could use?

You can use my study.

Most plighting, obviously.

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.

Settler-Kell. Please.

So hard to imagine, isn't it?

The ideal murderer, I mean.

A person taking the life of another person.

But I suppose it happens all the time.

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

Although on the other hand the newspapers are full of such stories, and they don't

lie about things like that.

Although one wonders sometimes if 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'd rather 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, uh, 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 no friend of mine, Mr.

Lipsaya. Inspector Blacker, he speaks about you a great deal.

Oh? Yes, 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.

You see, 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 Beliver told me there was a paper

when she found the body.

But I do think Mr.

Seracold was right.

What about? That you should speak to him immediately.

He might be able to tell you about the paper.

Mr. Seracold, would you step in here for a moment, please?

What is this thing, by the way?

A dream, I'm afraid.

Or rather, utopian youth center.

Completely self-contained community.

Well, perhaps one day.

Miss Marple thinks that you might have some information for me.

Thank you, Miss Marple.

Oh, please, no, don't go on my card.

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

Oh, very well.

But what are you going to say?

Christian Galbranson was murdered because he must have known who has been trying

slowly and co-bloodily 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.

Now, what, we'd all assumed to be some form of influenza, the muscle cramps, the

occasional 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.

I think he must have taken away some evidence to check in London.

Glass, some food, I'm not sure.

Anyway, 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.

Galbranson and Mr.

Seracold. Well, you were talking right under my...

Excuse me.

Did Mr. Galbranson say who he suspected?

No, and I'm not sure he knew.

But the murderer must have thought that he knew.

And you have no idea what evidence he had.

No, but, um, 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.

Well, perhaps Sergeant Lake, take this into town 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 Bellever was lying, he was the only one who had the opportunity.

Who is Dr.

Galbraith? The Bishop of Cromer.

He's a little friend of Christian's under my wife's, also one of the foundation

trustees. Dear Dr.

Galbraith, if at all possible, I beg you to come to Stoney Gate as soon as

you receive this.

A serious 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 it was shot, I imagine.

Why would the murderer leave this in the typewriter?

I have no idea.

Perhaps he didn't realize what Christian was writing.

Perhaps he didn't have time to check.

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 surely for her own sake she should be warned.

That may well be.

But as Miss Markle will confirm, she will be devastated to learn that someone near

and dear to her 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, Stephen Restrick, Dr Hargrove and some servants.

But what motive would they have?

Who are the beneficiaries of Carrie Louise's will?

Miss Markle, please.

Oh, sorry.

Yes. Who are the

beneficiaries of Mrs Seticle's will?

Well, just about everybody, I'm afraid.

Even Miss Bellever and young Restrick are given sizeable requests.

Stereo gets, of course, for divert 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, therefore I'm no longer one of her heirs.

I see.

So, the exception of yourself and Miss Markle here, everyone in the house has a

motive for killing your wife.

No. No, let

them go. A couple of quiet ones.

When they looked quickly, she died with laughing.

Of all mad matches, never was the life.

Mistress, what is your opinion of your sister?

The being mad herself, she's madly mated.

Ronnie, you're playing a young woman.

Not a whistle any Spaniards can hear.

The being mad herself, she's madly mated.

I want him.

The tutor is catered.

Neighbours and friends have brought him white groom once, for to supply the places

at the table.

You know they want us to know junkets at the feast.

Lucidio, use your supply of white groom's place and let Bianca take my sister's room.

Shall we Bianca practice how to bride it?

She shall, Lucidio.

Come, gentlemen. Let's go.

All right, boys, that's good enough for now.

I'll see you tomorrow night at 7.

Good night.

Oh, come on, eat.

Oh, come on.

Oh, come on.

Talking of madly mated, look who's here.

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

Bianca has to wear a dress.

Last 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 please, don't tell your Neanderthal husband.

Oh, afraid I'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.

Now, but you can't really be sure, can you?

Anyway, it won't last, you know.

What do you mean?

Well, you and Wally.

I mean, you certainly can't pretend you're suited to each other.

The man's a walking son.

I know. And he used to be so much fun.

Really a dreadful change.

I haven't changed a thing.

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.

I know. And I love it.

See you later at the house.

Mr. Restorek?

I came to tell you that Inspector Curry wants to talk to you.

To everybody, really.

Oh. Oh, it's just like a real theatre.

Lewis had this field about eight years ago.

Well, very good acoustics.

I've always felt that a great deal of juvenile crime is due to exhibitionism.

Well, you know, the boys needing to feel like heroes and all that.

Well, acting in plays can channel those needs in a constructive direction.

And what I'd really like to do is 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 Meade Garden and Theatre Club.

I was amazed at the way it brought some people out of their shells.

Our only problem was when Mrs.

Forbes' mom, Creief, 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. What ends his time to do it?

Hell is murky.

Fine, my lord, fine.

A soldier in a field?

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 dropper as the gentle rain from heaven.

The permanent place beneath.

At the time of this attempt on Miss Marple's life, Mr.

Cericold was with me and Mrs.

Cericold had already retired, so I will need to know where everyone else was at

roughly 10.30 p.m.

Well, 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 have 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 roof

was definitely cut.

I was afraid it might have been.

It must have been one of those young thugs.

I mean, which one of us would want to kill Aunt Jane?

Well, why would any of us want to kill your brother?

Mr. Ceric, 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 Ed Gilorson was?

He was sleeping in his room, I think.

I gave him rather heavy sedation after that gun nonsense earlier tonight.

Mr. Malcolm, where were you?

Walking down by the lake.

Hello, I'm sure.

Yes. And I was in our room alone.

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

I don't believe any of us actually thought we'd be needing an alibi.

Oh, one of you might have.

You haven't asked, but I was with Mrs.

Ceric-Ode in her room.

Was she awake?

Not all the time.

Yes, well, that'll 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 amazed me, Jane.

Almost killed last night.

And bright as a button this morning.

I think not being killed raises one's spirits.

Well, I think that inspector should get Wally into a room and force the truth out

of him. Milvret!

That's quite an accusation, my dear.

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

Why? Well, firstly, he's the only real stranger amongst us.

I mean, 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 films.

And then look at the way he behaves.

I mean, he can't stand the sight of any of us.

And anyway, he's got all those guns.

He's just a couple of target weapons.

What reason could he possibly have to kill your brother?

Well, perhaps Christian found out something murky about his past.

He came from Chicago, didn't he?

Well, that's where all the gangsters are.

Well, I must say, it hasn't exactly fitted in here at all.

It seems to have no sympathy or interest in anything we're trying to do.

Excuse me, Mrs.

Heracold, this was just a little bit for you.

Oh, thank you.

A box of chocolates.

Oh, I just love presents.

Oh, from Stephen how sweet.

Jane? Good

morning. Oh, Stephen, Callie Louise would like to thank

you for the chocolates.

Chocolates. What chocolates?

These. They came with your cards.

Well, it looks a little like my handwriting.

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

Has anyone seen Inspector Cully this morning?

I think it's with Dr.

Hargrove in the library.

I think I'll take this with me.

You'd think there was a bomb in that box of chocolates.

Well, I suppose with all that's been happening, Lewis wants to be extra careful.

Fancy playing a game at this time.

It's disgusting. And not even a black-armed band between you.

Well, I shouldn't think anyone brought anything like that with them.

After all, they couldn't possibly have known.

Christian is my brother, at least my half -brother.

You think some respect would be paid.

No offence, Aunt Audrey.

I cared a great deal for a Christian, but I hate wearing black.

I mean, it may be all right for housekeepers and receptionists, but...

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

No, no, no, no.

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 in

Tybald Branson. We might do better to concentrate on motive.

Who really needs money from Kerry Louise's estate?

They all do.

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

Juliet Bellover would have enough for a retirement cottage.

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

As for the Markham's, 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.

You know what puzzles me.

You 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, and he's letting on.

One of our suspects could have paid him to create that little diversion.

What do you think?

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

I'll take your part.

Just now, flying by the window, I think I saw a silver-throated

dasher. Did you?

I'll see you later.

Silver-throated dasher.

It's all right.

I rather fancy this spot.

I don't have the time getting away.

I have to get all those lights put back out of the boot.

Why all this?

I'm not sure.

You're a cloak and dagger, middle of the maze business.

Well, you know why.

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

Oh, do you really think we've got reputations left to protect?

Look, what I want to know is when you're going to tell Wally you're divorcing him

and marrying me.

Do you think you can afford me?

Oh, I'll find ways.

Then what if Wally doesn't want a divorce?

Well, that's his problem.

But every woman should make one mistake matrimonially.

It's a stage, like puberty.

Your husband may be very intense, which I know 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.

I'll be right back.

You could come out now, aren't you, Jane?

Oh, I know you're there.

Oh, so, were you entertained?

I couldn't help overhearing.

I couldn't help.

You were eavesdropping.

Just like at the theatre last night.

Oh, well, Stephen told me you probably overheard every word we said.

Well, I just happened to be watching a rehearsal.

It's just like you happen to be in the maze.

I'm sorry, Gina.

So, what's the verdict?

Jess, you're not going to be able to hear me.

Is it visible?

Strumpe it? Troll or what?

I'm not going to judge you.

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

Oh, it 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?

Oh, I don't know.

Perhaps I'll poison grandmother for her inheritance.

Gina! Not a child anymore, Aunt Jane.

All that business with Louis taking the medicine away in the box of chocolates was

all so obvious, and I know what you're thinking.

What? What could I 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, of course.

Well, everybody was concentrating on that tweet Edgar and his stupid threats against

Louis. I could have 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.

It's just one problem, isn't it?

Nobody will ever be able to prove it.

The You're quite good at that.

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 and that old guy got nailed.

It was my gun that the kid had.

And besides all that, I'm an American.

I 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, Miss Marple.

Not exactly high society.

Doesn't seem to bother 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.

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.

It's always off with Mr.

Archie Crassie.

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 think I know how to

do that better than you.

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

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

I'm sorry, Miss Marple.

Oh! Oh, Archie.

I'm sorry.

Seltman's told me I could 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. Yes, well, 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.

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 that I could do what I could to make his last years more

comfortable. Still at all?

Don't you know what it feels like to be needed?

I mean, 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 is in the kitchen.

Somehow the answer is 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.

Beliver and Markham were out of the room.

Either of them, a possible murderer.

Resturant was at the piano.

Mrs. Markham 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 know?

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 Markham.

Did you know that her mother was adopted?

Yes, Pippa. Yes, but did you know who her mother was?

Pippa's mother, I mean.

Francis Ellsworth.

The...the actress.

Who poisoned her husband with arsenic.

And was hanged for it in 1943.

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

Gina Markham's grandmother was a convicted arsenic, a poisoner.

Quite a family.

We got queer tasting music, all right.

Chostakovich, Tchaikovsky, Rachmaninov, all the ruskies.

Oh, please, Sergeant.

Oh, it's more like it.

And it was Largo.

Claire DeLune.

I know a lovely girl.

Inspector, over here, sir.

Stephen Restrick was sitting there.

It could have been put there later.

Or it could have meant to take it away earlier.

Let's ask him.

Sergeant. Oh,

excuse me. Miss Bellaver.

Have you seen Mr.

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

What do you mean he's no longer here?

I mean that 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 Stephen running away...

you knew about this chain?

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.

I'll be right back.

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.

House lights dim.

Curtain up.

Noise is off.

Entrance is here.

Exits there.

Conflict. Action. Climax.

Curtain down. Thunderous applause.

What do you think?

If you'll forgive me for saying so.

I think you're beginning to sound as bonkers as everybody else in this place.

I came to tell you that London have picked up Stephen Restorick.

Getting off the train at Paddington station.

They're sending him straight back here.

Thought you'd like to know.

Did he give any excuse for running away?

He claimed he wasn't running away at all.

He claimed 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 Stephen is our murderer?

I hope so.

I really do hope so.

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

Don't I have a reason to be?

It's a theatre, don't you understand?

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 reason that you're here now instead of that stupid theatre is because

Stephen pulls a little disappearing act.

That's ridiculous. We're together all the time.

Oh, excuse me.

No, come in.

No, I haven't seen you.

No, I need somebody to hear this.

What? I need to witness in case there's a divorce.

Somebody to testify while we talk to you.

Come on, Gina.

What's the matter?

Are you ashamed of what everybody's going to say?

We'll talk about this later.

No, we won't.

You say whatever you want right now, or don't say it at all.

I mean that.

Oh, don't worry about Aunt Jane.

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

All right. 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 when we first got married, did we?

I mean about each other's background and everything.

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 all right.

All right? They were a hell of a lot better than all right.

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.

I'm leaving, and I'm going back to the States next week.

I'm going to finish up med school, and I'm going to start my own practice somewhere.

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 in the first place, 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 in the first place.

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

And it's your loss.

I'm sorry, Wally.

I have to see Gary Louise.

Oh, Mother. Oh, I didn't know you were busy.

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

Well, I suppose I just want to apologize for acting.

Acting the way I did?

Well, that's quite all right.

Is there anything I can get you?

Some tea or something?

No, thank you, dear.

Miss Deverevers tending to that.

Oh, yes, of course she is.

All right, then.

Oh, dear. I wish she could be happier.

Mildred reminds me of Mary Alice Runaker 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.

Well, 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?

Well, just a story.

By the way, do you have any nail scissors,

Andy? Nail scissors?

What's there before?

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?

Well, as I understand it, a chemical analysis of Carrie Louise's fingernails

would determine what kind of poison she was given.

How are 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.

All right, you meddling old witch.

How much do you know?

I've got better way to go.

Oh, I see a trap.

All right, out of my way.

Come on, both of you, round here.

Come on, move.

Don't move, or I'll kill her.

And don't forget what.

Stay there!

Come across the clock.

Prime stop him at the gate.

Are you all right?

I've been better, thank you.

Come on.

Okay, open the gates.

Open the gates!

Now get out.

Stay where you are!

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

Will. I've stopped

it. Not quite.

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

Resturant still won't explain why I ran away.

He claims he doesn't know a thing about that gun and the pianist, too.

But what I want to know is what would you want to Dr.

Hardwell? I suddenly remembered who Edgar reminded me of.

Not really the answer I was looking for.

What? What are you doing, you bloody young hooligan?

Hardly the Stonygate spirit.

The Stonygate spirit is beginning to nauseate me.

When are you going to call London?

No, the Robinson office should be open now.

We really need to know what Christian was up to.

It's a question of motive.

Hardly? 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, you know.

Didn't he also say, bloody useful?

All right, I'll have Sergeant Lake bring young Edgar across the question.

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

through some things about, and then I sat down to think about what it was I

really wanted.

Your husband? He's been 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. He did yesterday.

I guess that's why I must have turned down Stephen's proposal.

When did you do that?

Well, 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?

Well, kids are much nicer role than Jezebel.

You're so greedy, honestly.

Yes, I see.

Four years ago.

Yes, I understand.

Oh, it certainly needs a copy, yes.

All right, I'll do that.

And thank you very much indeed.

What'd you expect it?

More or less.

I'm beginning to see what you were after.

Ah, Mr. Lawson!

Sit down.

Got some questions for you, left?

I already told everybody.

Didn't mean to do it.

Somebody just came over me.

No more lies, boy.

Just tell us who put you up to it.

Probably put me up to nothing.

Oh, come off it!

Somebody gave me that gun and told me to threaten Mr.

Cereco. That's a lie!

And we know who it was, the one who killed Mr.

Gulbranson. No. You're an accessory to murder, boy.

Now just tell me the truth and we might go easy on you.

I don't know anything.

Twenty years to lie.

That's what you're facing.

The same as if you're pulling the trigger yourself.

Now tell us the truth!

Hey! Come back here!

Lawson! Lawson!

Come back here, Lawson!

Lawson, stop!

Stop, boy, say!

Stop, boy, say!

Come back! Patrick, come back the other side!

Hurry! Edgar, that most rotten little

sink! Edgar!

Ow! You're done.

Son of a gun, come back here!

No, no, sir, please, no.

I need a hand with the boat.

Come on, swim!

Son of a gun!

Come on, swim!

Help! Help me, please!

Help! Dad!

We can't find him, sir!

Well, keep looking, keep looking!

Hey! Bones,

I smell good.

I can't see a thing, it's too muddy.

We've got a crew down to drag the bottom.

I'm sorry, Mr.

Seracode. Well,

what now?

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

He was.

Well, that key is never going to unlock anything now.

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

Well, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

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.

It's Marvel.

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

The stage, the theatre, 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 someplace,

anyplace 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.

I mean, who would try to poison mother?

Well, there was evidence, you see.

Firstly, Mrs. Seraculz-Zimnes, the symptoms could have been the result of slow, arsenic

poisoning. In fact, Mr.

Seraculz said that Mr.

Branson had told him that's exactly what they were.

And then, of course, there was the letter in Mr.

Branson's typewriter, telling how he discovered the poisoning plot.

In fact, poison was discovered in Mrs.

Seraculz's medicine and in the chocolates, which were delivered to her.

Some pretty solid evidence.

But is it?

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? Ah, yes.

Well, earlier today I rang Mr.

Branson's office and found that on the afternoon before he arrived here, he

had received a preliminary audit of Stony Gates 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.

Branson on behalf of the Foundation had turned down a plan by Dr.

Hargrove to establish a fully self -contained youth centre.

The model of it is still in Mr.

Seracot'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 Gold Branson Foundation to set up this centre independently.

That's damn unfair.

You're slaughtering a dead man.

Please, Mr. Seracot, Miss Marple has a few more enlightening things to tell us.

Dr. Hargrove must have thought that youth centre would bring him international fame

as a psychologist.

People do strange things pursuing a dream of glory.

But I still can't believe that you could actually kill people.

Oh, I could.

He tried to kill me twice.

He dropped those lights on me at the theatre.

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

And then he tried again when you bought him those nail clippings.

Persistent devil, wasn't he?

He knew that an analysis of Kerry Wheeze's nails would prove that she'd never been

subjected to any kind of poison.

And if there wasn't a poisoner, then we would be on to 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 Lewis 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 centre 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. Seracult.

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.

Seracult. 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 Wiley, 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, of course.

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 when anybody with good sense would know what was going to happen.

All the patients went to another dentist, Mr.

Wiley. 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.

Cerakold. We all know that Edgar belonged

to the theatre group here 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, Mr.

Cerakold. There's no way Edgar Lawson could have missed you if you'd been sitting

behind the desk.

And I'd rather say a thorough search of the house would probably turn up a pair

of gloves you used with power marks on them, or possibly your fingerprints on Mr.

Gulbranson'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 the study.

Hurry up. Don't worry, Inspector.

He won't try to escape.

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

Don't come in, sir.

Please. 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.

I know.

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 Bellova 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 all assumed was the reality.

And once I had accepted the idea that you were not being poisoned, then

it all fell into place.

Ready to go, Aunt Jane?

It's all right.

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 on, Jane.

I will miss your train.

You know, there's someone else in St.

Mary Meade 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.

Huh? These are for you.

Because you remind me of my old mum.