All language subtitles for S07E02.1080p.BluRay.x265.CV-YELLOWBiRD

Go, get some water
and wash this filthy witness from your hand.

Why did you bring these daggers
from the place?

They must lie there.

Go, carry them, and smear
the sleepy grooms with blood.

I'll go no more.

I am afraid to think what I have done.

Give me the daggers.

The sleeping and the dead
are but as pictures.

'Tis the eye of childhood
That fears a painted devil.

If he do bleed,

I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal,

for it must seem their guilt.

Father!

How could you do it?

How could you embarrass me on my
first night in front of all those people?

Embarrassed?
Who was embarrassed?

I was the one who had to sit there and watch
my wife cavorting in the arms of another man.

It's a play, George.
It's William Shakespeare.

It's nothing but an excuse,
an excuse for bestial behaviour,

and a chance to humiliate me in public.

And with a man like Brian Martin!

It's obvious you're having an affair!

Don't be ridiculous, George.
We were acting.

God, what a fool I was!

I should never have married you!

So you admit it was a mistake?

Well, I agree.

So why don't we end this misery now?
Please, George, I want a divorce.

You think I'll give you a divorce?
Absolutely not.

But...why not?

Because I'm George Alfred St Vincent Marsh.
Fourth Baron Edgware.

That's why not. You are my wife.

And that is how you will remain!

No, no, no.

Cases solved, 1928-9.

A-N. Poisons.

That should be with the others over there.

1929-1933...

Good morning, Mr Poirot.

Bonjour, Miss Lemon.

The last of the cases, they have arrived?

They're just bringing them in,
but in quite the wrong order.

I'm afraid I'm going to have to overhaul
the entire system. And the post has come.

Bon.

Let us see what we have.

How many more of these?
Don't even ask!

There. Come on, take another one.

What have we here?

An invitation to an evening
with Miss Carlotta Adams.

The actress.

I do not know this name.

I read about her in the papers.
She's American, comedy actress.

She does impersonations.

Impersonations?

No, no, no, no.

This is not for Poirot.

- Why they invite me, even, I cannot imagine.
- Careful!

We have a telegram.

Mon Dieu!
It is from the good Captain Hastings.

- All the way from Argentina?
- No, no, no, Miss Lemon.

This is sent from Paris.

He writes that he is in transit
from Buenos Aires to London.

And the aeroplane, it arrives...

..in just one hour from now.

- What about his wife?
- Of course, she will be with him.

Come, Miss Lemon, vite, vite!
They must already be here.

Don't worry, Mr Poirot.

- He won't have passed through customs yet.
- Excuse me!

- The flight from Paris, sir?
- Oui.

It landed about 20 minutes ago.

If you please, can you tell me if there was
a passenger called Captain Arthur Hastings?

One moment, sir.

Mr Poirot. There he is now.

Hastings!

Poirot, my dear chap!

Mon cher Hastings, it was beyond
all my expectations to see you again so soon.

- Welcome home, Captain Hastings.
- Miss Lemon.

All these baggages?

- Well, they're all mine.
- You intend to remain here for some time?

Well, er...yes.

And Madame Hastings?

Everything was going fine
until I made a foolish mistake.

I invested in the Pampas de Fernandez
Consolidated Railway.

Well, they weren't consolidated.
They didn't have a railway.

And there's a huge mountain range
between the two places.

I lost just about everything.

Poor Bella stayed behind to sell the ranch.

I've come over here
to find somewhere for us to live.

Not that she's said a word against me.
She's such a wonderful person.

We're still as much in love as the day we met.

When, if I remember correctly, you thought her
guilty of murder, n'est-ce pas?

Yes, well, since then, I think I've learned
what makes women tick.

Ah, yes.

The ticking of the women.

It has always been a mystery to Poirot.

Where will you stay while you're in London,
Captain Hastings?

I'm booked into the Palace.

The Piccadilly Palace Hotel.
I'll start looking for a flat as soon as possible.

If I can afford London prices.

Poor Captain Hastings.

You need taking out of yourself.

I know...

why don't you take him to that show?

Show?

Carlotta Adams. It's on tonight
and everyone says she's most amusing.

I'm sure you'll both enjoy it.

No, Miss Lemon,
I'm sure it would be of no interest at all.

Well, actually, it might be
just what the doctor ordered.

I haven't any other plans.

- Leave me alone, Brian, just leave me alone!
- You invited me, do you remember?

I thought we could still be friends.

Your husband was right.
You are completely heartless.

That's not fair.

Jane, if we are going
to be seen together in public,

we may as well at least put on an act.

- Who is that, Hastings?
- That's Jane Wilkinson, the actress.

What a beautiful woman, Poirot!

Yes, indeed. But also, I am thinking,
the unhappy one.

Pour me a gin and tonic, Godfrey,
and make it a large one.

I've been in America, you know.

I haven't had a drink in 13 years.

You're really very good!

President Roosevelt is ending Prohibition.

I don't believe it. What's the man doing?

He must be drunk.

Meanwhile, in Berlin,

the new Chancellor is prohibiting everything.

I say zis to you today.

I vill prohibit the artists.

I vill prohibit the writers.

If you don't agree with me, I vill prohibit you!

Good grief!

Someone has shot Herr Hitler.

So...

Whom do we call in?

Ah! Regarde.

Zere is a dead body on ze floor.

I will now'ave to use my little grey cells.

But why 'as Monsieur 'itler been assassinated?

Was it, perhaps, his polltics?

Non.

I think it was, instead,

because of his ridiculous...

moustache.

Well, thank you, Poirot. I really enjoyed that.

I must say, I thought the impressions
were absolutely spot on.

You thought so, Hastings? For me,
they were something of an exaggeration.

- Mr Poirot...
- Madame.

My name is Jane Wilkinson, and er...

I know this isn't really the place,
but I noticed you were here and...

I wonder...

I very much need your help.

Jane!

Hey! And the real Hercule Poirot!

I didn't know you two were friends.

Carlotta.

Mademoiselle.

I'm really glad you came to the show, Mr Poirot.
It's just great for the publicity.

Why don't you come over for a drink?

Well, er...

I would be content to join you, mademoiselle.

Great!

Look who I just found.

Mr Poirot, this is my very best friend in London,
Penny Driver,

who makes the most wonderful hats.

How do you do, Mr Poirot?

Mademoiselle.

You must know Brian Martin.

Monsieur Martin.

And this is Ronald Marsh.

- I'm a theatrical producer, Mr Poirot.
- Monsieur Marsh.

Trying to sign on Carlotta.
How did you enjoy the show?

Well, it was most...educational.

I thought it was splendid.

Well, please sit down. Join us.

Waiter, more champagne.

So, what were you doing
sneaking off to see Mr Poirot, Jane?

No, don't tell us.

You are hiring him to help you bump off
that ghastly husband of yours.

- Don't be absurd, Carlotta.
- Why not?

Mr Poirot solves lots of crimes.
Committing one would be a cinch.

The bumping off of husbands
is not one of my specialities, mademoiselle.

But she's got a point, you know. Getting rid
of Lord Edgware would do us all a favour.

Why does he have to be
so horrible and unreasonable?

I almost think I could kill him sometimes.

But you shouldn't talk like that, Carlotta,
you're embarrassing Mr Poirot.

Well, you know us Americans,
we speak as we think.

Here's to you, Carlotta, darling.

As deadly accurate as always.

The deadly Carlotta Adams.

- Carlotta.
- Carlotta.

We didn't get much entertainment in Argentina.

Horse shows and cattle shows,
but no actual shows, if you know what I mean.

Mr Poirot!

Madame?

I'm sorry. I couldn't talk to you back there,
but I really do need your help.

It is a matter that concerns
your husband, madame?

Well, he's not really my husband any more.
We live quite separate lives, but...

Well, you see, he refuses to give me a divorce.

It is perhaps because
he still has feelings for you.

Oh, no, I don't think so.

I don't think George has feelings for anyone.
He's a queer man.

His first wife ran away from him, you know.

She died in complete poverty.

And now...

...he enjoys tormenting me, Mr Poirot.

What is it that you wish me to do, madame?

Could you talk to him for me?

I know it sounds strange,
but there really is no-one else I can turn to.

If you could just tell him that you'd met me
and let him know what he's doing to me,

maybe, coming from you,
it might mean something.

- Your husband, Lord Edgware...
- He has a house at Regent Gate.

He travels a lot,
but he's in England at the moment.

I really have to go back.

Will you do it for me, Mr Poirot?

It's killing me...this whole business.

I don't know how much more I can bear.

I will visit your husband, madame,

and see what I can do.

Thank you.

Thank you.

I was so glad when I saw you here tonight.

Tell me, Hastings,
what is your opinion of this Jane Wilkinson?

Very attractive.

Yes, indeed.

But it is the psychology
that is of interest to Poirot.

Monsieur Poirot and Captain Hastings,
My Lord.

I can't give you a lot of time, Mr Poirot.

I'm leaving for Paris tomorrow morning.

There's a painting I wish to acquire.

Has the bank sent round those francs yet, Alton?

I don't believe so, my lord.

Well, ring them and tell them to get a move on.

Very well, my lord.

Now, in this er...

note you sent me,

- you said you were acting for my wife.
- That is so.

I thought you were something to do with crimes.

What do you want with me?

Lady Edgware has asked me to approach you
on the matter of your divorce.

Yes?

It was her suggestion
that you and I should discuss it.

There's nothing to discuss.

So you refuse?

What are you talking about?

I agreed to the divorce a month ago.

Why are you wasting my time?

But...I do not understand.

It's very simple. When I last saw her,
it's true I objected to the divorce.

But then, thinking it over, I changed my mind.

- So why haven't you told her?
- I have told her. I wrote hera letter.

I told her I'd decided
she could start proceedings after all.

And as far as I was concerned,
the sooner the better.

It is very curious.

I do not understand this at all.

Is this about money?

Because if it is, you can tell her from me
she's not getting any.

Now, if you don't mind.

One further question,
if you please, Lord Edgware.

This letter that you wrote,
to where was it sent?

To the stage door of the Regency Theatre.

At the time, I had no other address.

And you posted it yourself?

I have a secretary to do that for me, Mr Poirot.
I'm a busy man.

Too busy, in fact,
to offer you any more of my time.

My lord.

You mean you've managed it? Just like that?

Oh, dear Mr Poirot, you're wonderful.
You've saved my life.

That is... most kind of you, madame.

But in this instance, I have done nothing.

What do you mean?

Well, Lord Edgware told us that he wrote to you
a month ago at the Regency Theatre

agreeing to a divorce.

I never got any letter.

Tell me, would there have been anyone
in the theatre with access to your post?

Letters for me would be held at the stage door.

Brian sometimes got them for me.

You're not saying someone stole it, are you?

It is a possibility, madame.

Well, what does it matter, anyway?

I was going completely mad,

and then I met you,
and somehow everything's come out all right.

Alice.

I was invited out tonight, but I said no.

But with what you've told me,
I feel a need to celebrate.

I am content
the results are to your liking, madame.

- Yes, ma'am?
- I've decided to go out this evening afterall.

- Could you call Lady Corner and let her know?
- Yes, ma'am.

And lay out something bright.

The new Schiaparelli, you know, the pink satin.

Mr Poirot.

Madame.

I don't suppose
you'd care to come with me tonight?

Er...

Alas, madame, but for me,
tonight it is not possible.

- Another time, perhaps.
- Oui.

I am at your service, madame.

I say, Poirot! You were going it a bit up there,
weren't you?

But there is a quality in Lady Edgware that is
most attractive, do you not think, Hastings?

- Don't tell me you're falling for her?
- No, Hastings.

Poirot, he does not fall. He observes merely.

Hmm.

Well, er, I'd better be getting back to the hotel.

Yes, indeed. Oh, Hastings,
the reason that I said I was occupied tonight,

it is that I hope you will dine with me.

Oh, that's very kind of you, Poirot.

Come at 7:30, mon ami. And please, Hastings,
I beg of you, do not be late.

Where are you going,
dressed up like a dog's dinner?

I'm going to the opera.
Don Giovanni with the Dortheimers.

- Urgh! Ghastly nouveau riche.
- Father...

You could choose your friends
with a little more discretion.

- At least I have friends.
- Miss Carroll!

I'm working tonight and leaving early tomorrow,
so try not to disturb me.

- You called, sir?
- Yes, I'd like to dictate a letter. Do you mind?

It would be a pleasure, sir.

So, how do I look?

You look lovely, ma'am.

What a lovely evening.

I can't believe everything's going my way!

That smells good, Mr Poirot. What is it?

Une tourte de filet de boeuf aux rognons.

Oh.

Is that another recipe
from your aunt in Belgium?

No, no, no, Miss Lemon.

This is an invention of my own.

A dish that I discovered during my retirement.

The pudding of the steak with the kidneys.

Bon.

- The table, it is laid?
- Four places.

There's the first guest.

Ah.

- Chief lnspector.
- Very nice to see you again, Miss Lemon.

Come in.

Mmm, something smells good.
Poirot cooking?

Steak and kidney pudding.

Ah!

Then this is just what you'll need.

Sir.

- Captain Hastings? Your taxi's ready.
- Oh, right. Thank you.

Oh, excuse me.

- Room 174.
- Certainly, Mrs Van Dusen.

Thank you, Thompson. That is excellent.

- Monty?
- My dear?

The table.

It's set for 13.

Is it?

- Oh, yes. Well, that's Lady Edgware, isn't it?
- Is it?

She cancelled,
so I invited young Ross to join us.

He accepted. Now she says she's coming.

So that makes 13.

But it's bad luck, isn't it?

I should say it's rather good luck.

I've been wanting to meet her.
She's very glamorous.

Ah, our first guests, Eleanor.

- Thank you, Miss Carroll.
- Can I get you anything, sir?

- What?
- I was going to have a drink, and I wondered...

What are you talking about, woman? Are you
suggesting I'd want to have a drink with you?

- Well, sir, I...
- You're getting airs above your station.

Maybe you should start looking for another job.

Now get out.

There's nothing like marriage,
that's the truth of it.

The day I met Bella,

it was as if I'd found myself.

Ever since,
I've been a completely different man.

Hmm, different man, yes.
Could say the same about me, I suppose.

But you're happily married, Chief lnspector.

I don't know about that, Miss Lemon.

You see, my Emily,
she just doesn't understand my work.

She never lets me talk about murder
at the dinner table.

And her tidying!
It just gets worse and worse.

Sometimes, I wonder how I've lived with her
these 27-and-a-half years.

It's a shame you've never
considered marriage, Mr Poirot.

There were occasions, Miss Lemon,
when I did have la tentation.

The temptation. But now, alas,
I think it is too late.

Oh, I wouldn't say that, Poirot.

If the right woman came along...
Jane Wilkinson, for example?

Will you have some wine, Chief Inspector?

A fine Pauillac?

No, thanks, Poirot, I'll stick to my stout.

Donald Ross is a name
that will shortly be known to everyone.

Just as soon as he finishes his play
on the great war of Troy.

I started right at the beginning.

I'm going all the way
to the Trojan Horse and beyond.

It's going to be a bit like Sophocles.

An epic.

But for a modern '30s audience.

Lady Edgware,
you have a telephone call, ma'am.

For me?

Excuse me.

Hello?

- Brian!
- I had to see you.

You're Alton, aren't you?
Is my husband in?

Yes, ma'am.

It's all right, Alton. I know the way.

Yes, ma'am.

- The Dortheimers?
- They're still in their seats.

Then let's go.

Right. Thank you very much, Poirot.

Nice bit of steak and kidney, I must say.

Thank you, Chief Inspector.

It's funny, you know.

Here we are, the four of us, all together again.
But, of course, there's one thing missing.

- What's that?
- The body. That's how we normally meet.

No, but it is true.

Oh, well, never mind, Poirot. As soon as word
gets round you're back, I'm sure one will turn up.

- Morning, Poirot, Captain Hastings.
- Chief Inspector.

You got my message, then?

Yes, Chief Inspector.
We came immediately.

Looks like we spoke too soon last night.

Stabbed in the neck, round about ten o'clock.

- Have you discovered any money?
- Money?

When we were last here,

Lord Edgware had commanded from his bank
a sum of money in francs.

- That's right. He was just about to go to Paris.
- We haven't found any money.

But I'd be interested to know what you two
were doing here? Had he asked for your help?

Non. No, Chief Inspector.

It was Lady Edgware who had asked for me
to intercede on her behalf.

She wanted her husband to give her a divorce.

So that's the motive, then, is it?

The motive, Chief Inspector?

I already know it was her.
I just want to find out why.

Now, then, Alton. I want you to tell my friends
here exactly what you told me.

Yes, sir.

I answered the door just after half past nine.

I'd heard the clock sound the half hour,
that's how I'm sure of the time.

It was Lady Edgware.

She said she wanted to see her husband
and that she could find her own way.

You saw her enter the study?

No, sir, but as I left,

she was approaching the door.

Was it you who discovered the body?

Yes, sir.

This morning at eight.

I entered the study to open the curtains.

That's when I called the police.

Could you tell me, Monsieur Alton,

what happened to the francs
your master demanded yesterday?

They came in the afternoon. I imagine
he would have placed them in the safe.

Lord Edgware's solicitor
will have a combination.

You have worked here for how long,
Monsieur Alton?

One month, sir.

And how many times
have you met Lady Edgware?

Only once, sir,
but I could have sworn it was her.

It was her!

I'd know her anywhere.

And I saw her quite clearly.

I heard her speaking with Alton.

Then she crossed the hall
and went in through there.

Could you tell me, mademoiselle,
what she was wearing?

She was wearing black.

A black dress and lace sleeves. And a hat.

And this hat, it was also black?

Yes. Very modern, with a slanting brim.

I see.

And after she went into the study?

Sorry?

- You heard nothing? No sound of any kind?
- No, I told you. I went to bed.

Who else was in the house last night,
Miss Carroll, apart from you and Alton?

Only Geraldine, Lord Edgware's daughter.
She's in her room now.

I didn't love my father.

I suppose I could lie to you, but why should I?

I hated him.

And if someone's gone and killed him, I'm glad.

There you are.

I wonder if you could tell us your movements
last night, Miss Marsh?

If you insist.

I went to the opera.
Don Giovanni at Covent Garden.

I left at around seven
and I wasn't back until well after midnight.

When I got home, I went straight to bed.

Satisfied?

- Did you enter the study of your father?
- No.

There was a light on under the door,
but I didn't want to see him.

I never wanted to see him.

I don't suppose there's anyone
who can corroborate your story?

You could talk to my cousin, if you like.

Ronald Marsh. He was at the opera.

In fact, we had a drink together in the interval.

But why are you wasting your time
interrogating me?

Why aren't you talking to Jane?

- Lady Edgware?
- Well, she was here, wasn't she?

Miss Carroll saw her, and Alton.

It seems to me
you've got an open-and-shut case.

Murdered?

Oui, madame.

Well...

I suppose...

..I can't say I'm surprised.

He wasn't a kind man.

Or a good one.

But it's still horrible.

Nobody deserves to die like that.

But why are you here?

Mr Poirot, you can't think...

Can you tell us your movements
last night, Lady Edgware?

I told you, I changed my mind.

I was going to stay in, but in the end
I went to that dinner in Holborn.

To the house of Sir Montagu Corner?

Yes. There were at least a dozen people there.

You can ask him.

And there was a young writer, Donald Ross.

He's writing a play about Troy.
He was sitting opposite me.

Bon. If you please, madame,

could you relate to the Chief Inspector
your movements for the evening in its entirety?

Certainly.

I left here at about seven.

And I went first to the Piccadilly Palace Hotel.

Oh, that's where I'm staying.

Sorry.

I had a meeting with an American lady.

A Mrs Van Dusen.

She's written a play. Not a very good one.

And we talked about it for about 20 minutes.

At 7:30, I left and took a cab to Holborn.

I was at dinner with the Corners
until after midnight,

and then I came straight home.

Did you leave the table at any time?

Yes.

Once.

I received a telephone call
at about half past nine.

Who was that from?

That was the funny thing.

A voice said, "Is that Lady Edgware?"

And when I said it was,
they laughed and rang off.

I thought it must be some sort of a hoax.

This voice, madame,

it was of a man or a woman?

A woman, I think.

So you're telling me that apart from
that one time, you never left the room?

That's right.

Chief Inspector, I was the last person
to want my husband dead.

Not after what Mr Poirot had told me.

He was nothing to me any more.

Nothing.

So, Chief Inspector,

now it all begins to make sense.

- Not to me, it doesn't.
- Oh, yes.

Yesterday evening, Lady Edgware
had intended to remain on her own in her flat.

She had already announced she would
not be attending the dinner at Holborn.

So, in other words,
everyone knew she had no alibi.

Oui. C'est ça.

But it was only at the last minute
that she changed her mind

and so disrupted the plans of the true killer.

Are you suggesting that someone went round
to Regent Gate pretending to be Lady Edgware?

It was an attempt most deliberate
to incriminate her, yes.

- So it's lucky she went to that dinner after all.
- Well, let's just be sure she did first.

Oh, yes. She was certainly
at our little dinner party.

She was quite the life and soul
of the evening, Monsieur Poirot.

She'd had some good news.

Something to do with her divorce.

I think it was the fact
that her husband had agreed to one.

- You were present also, Monsieur Ross?
- I was sitting opposite her.

Did she talk much about herself, Mr Ross?

To be honest,
I was the one who did most of the talking.

Yes, but she was very cheerful.

And with good reason.
With the divorce agreed,

I imagine she was looking forward
to stepping out with...

I think you know who.

No, monsieur, I do not know who.

The Duke of Merton.

He's one of the richest men in England.

He has properties all over London.
My wife would dearly love to have him to dinner.

And they have known each other for some time,
Lady Edgware and the Duke?

- No, I believe they met only recently.
- Must have been love at first sight.

Is it true that Lady Edgware took
a telephone call while she was here?

Yes. Now, when was it?

About half past nine.

But she was only out of the room
for a couple of minutes, no longer than that.

She was the first to leave the table.

I'm sorry, Lady Corner?

I mentioned it to my husband,
just before the guests arrived.

There were 13 of us to dinner.
And you know the old superstition.

Yes, the first person to leave the table...

Nobody believes that.

We had 13 to dinner,
and she was the first to get up.

It means she's going to die.

I've got the money. L500.

It's all here, walting for you.

If you don't believe me,
you only have to come round.

- Ronald.
- Gerry, my dear.

So, how does it feel?

- What?
- To be the new Lord Edgware?

No more creditors, for a start.
It's splendid.

Have you spoken to the police yet?

Yes. They were at the house this morning.

A Chief Inspector
and this weird, little French detective.

Oh, that'll be Hercule Poirot.

So he's on the case?

Did you tell him where you were last night?

Yes. I said I was at the opera.

That's right.

Anyway, they weren't interested in me.

It's Jane they want to see.

Poor Jane.

She's starring in my new play, you know.

Or she was.

Of course, if they arrest her...

You can always recast.

Oh, look, Captain Hastings.

There's a basement flat here
on the Talgarth Road.

- Oh.

I wonder who that can be.

It is perhaps Lady Edgware.

Do you think so?

With the Chief Inspector, as you say, Hastings,
breathing down the neck,

she will be in need most assuredly
of my assistance.

You sound almost hopeful, Poirot.

Mr Poirot!

Monsieur Martin.

I hope you don't mind my coming, Mr Poirot,

but I was wondering, there's something
I was hoping you'd take on for me?

If you please to sit, monsieur.

Well, the thing is, you see, I er...

I have a friend, a lady friend,

and she's being followed.

And this lady friend of yours,
she calls herself...?

I can't tell you her name. Not yet.

But I was with her the other day,

and I actually saw the chap.

Well, he's an ugly-looking fellow.
He's clean-shaven. He has glasses.

Oh, and he has a gold tooth.

You spoke to this man?

No, he was there one minute,
gone the next.

And I wish I could tell you more.

But if the lady were to agree,
do you think you could possibly look into it?

Oui, bien sur.
I find the whole story most interesting.

That is a relief.

I was very pleased
to run into you the other night, Mr Poirot.

- Do you remember, with Jane Wilkinson?
- Yes, indeed.

I was thinking about her, you know,
and about her husband.

It was just such an extraordinary thing for her
to say, that she'd thought about killing him.

Do you think she had it in her to commit murder?

I'm sure of it.

I know her, you see.
She's terribly sweet on the surface.

But she would kill as easily
as drink her morning tea. Believe me.

Perhaps you are not aware
that the husband of Lady Edgware...

he was indeed murdered last night.

What?

Murdered?

You're not being serious?

It is not a subject about which
I have the habit to joke, monsieur.

No, but that's... Oh, my God!

What I was saying just now,
I didn't mean...

Therefore, by necesslty, this matter of yours,
the man with the gold tooth...

Yes, of course. That will have to wait.

Oui.

You will speak nonetheless
to this lady friend of yours,

and if she wishes for me
to investigate on her behalf, then...

Thank you very much, Mr Poirot.
I'm very grateful for your time.

Monsieur.

- Miss Lemon.
- Mr Poirot.

This way, Mr Martin.

So tell me, Hastings.
What is your opinion of all this?

It seems strange that he comes to you
for your advice and yet tells you so very little.

The same thought also had occurred to me.

I didn't know you knew Brian Martin, Mr Poirot.

He's a wonderful actor.

We met him at the Gaiety Theatre
the other night. That cabaret. Carlotta Adams.

- The impressionist.
- Mon Dieu!

- How could I have been so blind?
- Mr Poirot?

Telephone to the Gaiety Theatre at once.
Ask for the address of Carlotta Adams.

Tout de sulte! Every minute is of value.

- What's the matter? I don't understand.
- Hastings, do you not see?

But I have been so slow!

Imbécile!

- How much, driver?
- One and five.

I only hope we are in time. Vite! Vite, mon ami!

Yes?

Mademoiselle...

- You are the maid of Miss Carlotta Adams?
- Yes.

We must speak most urgently to your mistress.

She's still in bed. She always gets up late
when there's a performance.

So, you have spoken with her today?

- No, she's asleep.
- Quick, mademoiselle, we must see her.

Miss Adams!

Miss Adams!

It's locked!

You must call at once for the police,
mademoiselle.

Hastings.

Mademoiselle?

We're too late.

Sounds like an overdose to me, Poirot.

- Veronal, or something of the sort.
- The sleeping draught?

- Of course, it could have been accidental.
- No, I think not.

So you're saying that Carlotta Adams went
to Regent Gate disguised as Lady Edgware?

And then had to be silenced to make sure
the identlty of her employer remained secret.

So the idea was to frame Lady Edgware
from the very start?

Yes, Chief Inspector.

To ensure that she was hanged
fo ra murder she did not commit.

I don't see it, Poirot.

Non.

Then let me show you.

The wig, Chief Inspector.

That's the same colour and style as...

Lady Edgware, yes.

And now, Chief Inspector...
Excuse me, Hastings.

The shoes.

Designed to increase the height.

The make-up of a theatrical variety.

And these.

Pince-nez.

With the lenses very strong.

- But these were not part of the disguise.
- If there was a disguise.

She was a performer, Poirot.
All this could be part of her act.

And this?

Veronal. Just like I thought.

"CA from P.

Sweet dreams,

November 10th."

November?

That's seven months ago.

There we are, then.
That proves she was taking the stuff.

Perhaps.

And yet...

Let's talk to the maid.

Mademoiselle Alice, can you relate to us

the movements of your mistress
yesterday evening?

Well, she got here at about six o'clock.

I don't know where she'd been.

Yes, go on.

She spent some time writing a letter.

Then she got changed,
and left here at about seven o'clock.

Did you know her destination?

She didn't say.

Did she go to the theatre?

No, sir, there was no performance last night.

And how was she dressed, mademoiselle?

She was in black, sir.

With a new hat.

With a brim that was...slanting?

Yes.

She only bought it last week.

From her friend, Miss Driver.

Oh, Miss Penny Driver?

We met her at the Gaiety Theatre.

Oui.

She got back around midnight.

She said she was very tired.

But not upset or distressed?

No, she seemed more...

pleased about something.

Anyway, then she went straight to bed.

And this letter of which you spoke?

It was to her sister, sir.

Lucie Adams. She's over on a visit.

Miss Carlotta took it with her when she left.

She was going to post it, I suppose.

Then she forgot. She was always doing that.

And...where is this letter now?

It's gone, I'm afraid, sir.

I posted it myself this morning.

She left it on the table.

Then once again we are too late.

Do you really think that
somebody paid Carlotta to imitate me?

To go to the house, dressed like me?

That is how it would appear, madame.

But...she didn't kill my husband?

No, no, no. It was enough
that she was seen there.

No, somebody believed that you had a motive
to be rid of Lord Edgware.

They believed also
that you would be at home, on your own.

With no alibi.

They wanted to see me hang.

Madame.

Which is why I must ask you,

who is it, you think, who would wish you ill?

You're asking who would want to see me dead.

It's horrible to think there could be anyone.

Do I really have to name names, Mr Poirot?

If I am to protect you, oui.

Well...

I suppose Geraldine never liked me.

After all, her father left her mother to marry me,

and you know her mother later died.

It hasn't been easy for her.

Tell me...

what of Monsieur Brian Martin?

Why do you mention him?

We were lovers, Mr Poirot.

For a short while, after I knew
my marriage had fallen apart.

I was so unhappy and I turned to him.

And then you met someone else?

That's always been my trouble.

I fall in love too easily.

First, George, and that was a horrible mistake.

Then Brian.

And now Percy.

The Duke of Merton?

But this time, I know I've got it right.

He really is so sweet and kind
and he needs someone to look after him.

He and I plan to marry as soon as we can.

And you'll be invited.

Ah, the grand wedding.

At Westminster, yes.

That's what he's always wanted.

I just fear all of this business will frighten him off.

He so hates scandal.

Mr Poirot...

will you talk to him?

Will you tell him
that everything's going to be all right?

Once again,
you make of Poirot the ambassador.

He's coming to my apartment later.

You could meet him there.

Oui.

I knew I could trust you the moment I met you.

You really are my guardian angel.

I should be afraid.

But I'm not.

Not while you're here.

Do not be anxious, madam.

All will be arranged.

You have my word.

These are some of our latest models,
just in from Paris.

Oh, lovely.

Dorothy, show Mrs Lester
the Rose Descartes model.

Excuse me.

- What are you doing here?
- It's not working out as we thought it would.

- What do you mean?
- I've just seen Jane.

- She hasn't been arrested?
- She was in the park, with Poirot.

What?

The way they were walking together,
you could imagine...

She's got him lapping at her feet.

So I think you can take it
she's more or less off the suspects list.

It's all right, Brian.

It's early days.

She's going to get what she deserves
and she's not going to hurt us again.

I'm sorry, Chief Inspector,
Mr Poirot went out first thing this morning.

Don't tell me he's still got this bee
in his bonnet about Lady Edgware?

That somebody deliberately set out
to frame her for her husband's murder?

Well, it is still a possibility.

I don't know how, but it seems
she's got him round her little finger.

- Maybe that's the sort of woman she is.
- I wouldn't say that.

I've never thought of women as the manipulative
sex. Certainly not in my experience.

Anyway, Chief Inspector,
aren't you forgetting something?

Lady Edgware was at dinner
when the murder was being committed.

No, I haven't forgotten that, Miss Lemon.
It looks like she's off the hook.

However, you can drive from Holborn
to Regent's Gate in five minutes.

I've just done it myself.

So if she had the car waiting outside...

Donald Ross said she wasn't away
from the table for more than a few minutes.

Well, maybe he lost track of the time.

Do you have no other suspects,
Chief Inspector?

Oh, I've got plenty of suspects, Miss Lemon.

Ronald Marsh, for example,
Lord Edgware's nephew.

Atheatrical producer, heavily in debt.

He needed the money, not to mention the title.

Well, there you are, then.
Money's the oldest motive in the book.

Then there's Geraldine Marsh, the daughter,

whose mother died
after Lord Edgware abandoned her.

She told us to our face
how much she disliked her father.

So it could have been either of them.

Yes.

But who was the real target?

That's what beats me.

Lord Edgware...

or Lady Edgware?

Can I take your hat, sir?

Thank you, Alice.

Jane, darling.

Mr Poirot, it's a pleasure to meet you.

- Monsieur le Duc.
- Jane has spoken a lot about you.

- Would you like a drink, darling? Tea or coffee?
- No, I can't stay long.

This business, the death of Lord Edgware,
it really is the most terrible thing.

That Jane should be involved.

You know I'm relying on you?

We're both relying on you to sort it out.

And if there's anything I can do to help...

You could perhaps tell to me
how it was that the two of you met?

It was at the theatre.

Macbeth. A wonderful performance.

Quite wonderful.

Lord Edgware was there that night,

and I saw how he behaved.

He was a brute of a man.

Despicable.

I can't help but think
that he deserved what he got...

although that's a terrible thing to say.

I won't lie to you, Mr Poirot.

I'm glad at the way things worked out.

And as soon as there's been a decent interval,

Jane and I plan to be married.

If she'll have me.

Of course I will.

I wish to you both...

much happiness.

I hope we'll see you at the cathedral, Mr Poirot.

I know how you've taken Jane's side.

And I want you to know
how much I appreciate it.

Monsieur, madame.

Alton, what are you doing?

What does it look like?

Come on, Joyce. Why don't you
come down off your high horse for once?

The master is dead,

and you and me, we'll soon be for the hook.

Everything will continue as before.

Mr Ronald will move in.

He's the new Lord Edgware now.

Will you fancy him
as much as you did the old one?

I will not listen to this.

Have they arrested her yet?

Lady Edgware?

Apparently, the police don't believe it was her.

What?

They think there might have been
quite a different motive for the murder.

Oh, hell.

Alton?

Alton!

- Has he said anything?
- No, Captain Hastings.

I think you'd better go and talk to him.

I've never seen him like this.

Poirot?

Are you all right?

Oui. Ça va, ça va.

She really has rather got to you, hasn't she?

You reach a certain age,
you think romance has passed you by.

When it does finally hit you,

it really bowls you over.

What is it of which you speak?

Well, Jane Wilkinson.

Hastings...

..I think of the murder of Lord Edgware and
the questions to which there remain no answers.

I think of the letter from Carlotta Adams
to her sister

and the pince-nez we found in her bag.

But absolutely not
do I think of Jane Wilkinson.

Very well. If you say so.

Mr Poirot!

That was Chief Inspector Japp.

There's been a development.

Mr Trabshaw, the solicitor,
unlocked it this morning.

No-one else had the combination.

I felt I should call you straight away.

The French francs,
they are nowhere to be found?

How many francs are we talking about?

Well, a considerable amount.

Lord Edgware was about to leave for Paris.

He told the butler, Alton, to call the bank.

And where is Alton?

Well, that's why I called you, Chief Inspector.

He seemed very agitated yesterday
when I told him you hadn't yet made an arrest.

And this morning, he's failed to appear for work.

I've been to his room and it's empty.

He's gone.

It's one and six, please, madam.

Thank you, madam.

Yes?

I'm here to see Carlotta.

I'm sorry?

She's expectating me.

I'm Lucie Adams. I'm her sister.

Haven't you heard?

What?

Thank you, Hastings.

Mademoiselle Driver.

I didn't know if I should call you, Mr Poirot.

But Lucie insisted,
when she heard you were on the case.

- Where is she now, mademoiselle?
- Upstairs. She had a terrible shock.

Well, perhaps she came to you
because you were the friend of her sister?

Yes. Carlotta was one of my first customers.
She bought all her hats here.

I understand that you sold to her
a hat with a brim that is slanting?

Well, similar to this one.

Yes, she bought one very like it last week.

Mademoiselle,
did you ever make to her a present?

A little box for the sleeping drug?

- I'm sorry?
- You will see...

"CA from P.

Sweet dreams. November 10th."

The CA is Carlotta.
We wondered if the P might be Penny.

Well, it's not.

I've never seen that before.

Merci. There is only one other question
I wish to ask you, mademoiselle.

How well acquainted are you
with Jane Wilkinson?

Jane?

Why do you want to know about her?

There was a man I was very close to,

and she took him away from me.

And when she finished with him,
she threw him over.

There's nothing good
I can say about Jane Wilkinson.

But I thought it was Lucie Adams
you'd come to see.

And if you don't mind, she's waiting upstairs.

It couldn't have been an overdose.
Carlotta never took drugs. She hated them.

- It's all right.
- Mademoiselle...

Can you explain to me
the reason for your visit to England?

Well, I came to see Carlotta.

She invited me.

The show was doing well
and she was so full of hope.

I wanted to see a bit of the country
before I joined her in London.

Since your arrival in England, mademoiselle,

have you received a letter from your sister?

Yes.

I have it here. It arrived this morning.

Ah!

You permit that we read this letter,
mademoiselle?

Yes, of course.

"Dear little sister,

I'm sorry this is so scrappy
but things have been rather busy.

The show is a success. Notices splendid.
Box office good."

The whole of the first page is about the show.

Oh, yes, it continues here.

"I met Ronald Marsh the other night.

He's a theatre producer. He tried to persuade
me to come in on one of his new shows.

I don't know, though. He drinks quite heavily
and has no money of his own,

although it turns out
he's the nephew of Lord Edgware,

who sounds no beauty, I can tell you.

Anyway, Ronald loved my revue

and he asked me if I'd be interested
in earning some money

for a practical joke that would prove
just how good I was.

I laughed and said, 'How much?'

Lucie, darling, the answer
fairly took my breath away. $2,000.

After that, we laid our heads together
and got down to details.

I'll tell you how it went when you get to London.

I can't wait to see you, little sister mine. Yours..."

Carlotta.

There, there.

I don't understand.

Why would Ronald Marsh pay Carlotta
that sort of money?

And where would he get it from?
I mean, everyone knew he was virtually broke.

That is indeed the question.

Mademoiselle...

..you will allow us to guard
this letter for a little while?

Yes.

If it will help, Mr Poirot.

Merci.

Courage, mademoiselle.

I will return this letter to you and, with it,
the truth concerning the death of your sister.

- You have the word of Poirot.
- Thank you.

Well, this is it, Poirot.

The proof of the pudding.
It was Ronald Marsh all the time.

You no longer suspect Alton the butler?

No, no. He's obviously up to no good,
but he's no killer.

No, no, it's all here.

Ronald Marsh hired Carlotta Adams to go
to Regent Gate disguised as Lady Edgware.

Later on, he killed Lord Edgware,
making us think that she'd done it.

Then, of course, Carlotta had to die
to stop her talking.

But, of course, at the time of the first murder,

Monsieur Ronald Marsh was at the opera.

According to Geraldine Marsh, yes.

But there's something you don't know, Poirot.

I was thinking about
Ronald Marsh's so-called alibi.

- And then I had an idea.
- I congratulate you, Chief Inspector.

Thank you.

It occurred to me that Regent Gate is
less than a mile away from Covent Garden.

- Do you get my drift?
- He could have left in an interval?

Yes, and been back in time for the next act.

Ah, yes. Now, that, I believe,
is the same technique you used

to demonstrate the possible guilt
of Jane Wilkinson.

That's right. I've been talking
to quite a few of the taxi drivers in this area,

and this time I came up trumps.

Ronald Marsh and the young lady left Covent
Garden between the second and the third act.

The driver took them to Regent Gate
and waited for them outside.

Good Lord.

Where is Monsieur Marsh?

In here.

All right.

Yes.

I did go to the house during the interval.

Talk to Geraldine.

- And she was in the cab with you?
- Yes.

But she had nothing to do with it, either.

Why did you return to the house?

I needed money.

I met Geraldine at the opera
and, bless her, she agreed to help.

She offered you financial assistance?

She had some pearls
She said I could pawn them.

It would keep me afloat for a few more weeks.

And you went over to get them
in the middle of the opera?

Needs must, Chief Inspector.
It was urgent.

She had a key, let herself in.
I waited outside.

I don't suppose you saw anything
while you were outside?

No.

Actually, there was something.

Wait.

Just as we got there,
I thought I saw Brian come out.

Brian Martin?

It was dark,
but it certainly looked like him.

You can ask Geraldine. She saw him, too.

That was Brian!

Monsieur Marsh,

when we first met, it was in the presence
of Carlotta Adams, the performer.

You said you were hoping
to engage her in the theatre.

Yes.

Subsequently, you paid to her
the sum of $2,000.

What?

What are you talking about?

- Are you denying it?
- Of course I am.

Where would I have got money like that?
Why should I pay her anything?

Mr Marsh, we have it on record from
Miss Adams herself that you paid her that sum.

Well, if that's what she said, then she was lying.

I never paid her a bean.

Now, if you don't mind,
I should like to go home.

- He's going nowhere.
- Chief Inspector?

Not till I've spoken to Geraldine Marsh.

- Sir!
- Yes?

Ah, it's Alton, the missing butler.

He's been reported buying a ticket
for Buenos Aires, would you believe?

Flight leaving today.

That's the flight I took.
The first leg leaves for Paris at four.

We've just got time to intercept him. Come on.

He's heading for the terminal. Get after him!

- There he is!
- Stay where you are, Alton.

Wait here.

Argh!

We know you've got the money!
You won't get away with it!

Come on! This way!

Give yourself up, Alton.
You don't stand a chance.

After him!

Hold him!

- No!
- Argh!

- Bonjour, Hastings.
- Oh, morning, Poirot.

You had a telephone call earlier
from Ronald Marsh, Mr Poirot.

He rang to invite you today
to what he called a celebratory lunch.

- Japp must have released him already.
- Oui.

Mademoiselle Geraldine
must have corroborated his story.

Perhaps Alton did kill Lord Edgware afterall.

No, no, no, Hastings. I think not.

Well then, who did?

Five questions, Hastings.

That is all.

Five.

The answers to which will reveal to me the truth.

Five questions, Mr Poirot?

Fire away.

We know that Lord Edgware
changed his mind on the subject of divorce

and that he wrote to his wife
to acquaint her of that.

He sent it to the theatre.

Oui, and it was indeed posted by Miss Carroll.

But why was it that this letter
was never received by Lady Edgware?

To whose interest was it
that this letter should not arrive?

What's the second question?

The telephone call that Lady Edgware
received at the dinnerat Holborn.

Assurément, it was to make sure
she was indeed there, but...

..who has made this telephone call and why?

I can't help you there.

What's the third question, Mr Poirot?

The third question, Miss Lemon,
concerns the pince-nez

that we discovered in the handbag
of Carlotta Adams.

Now, neither she nor Lady Edgware
wore spectacles such as these.

So what is their purpose
and to whom do they belong?

That's a good question.

Next, we come to the letter
written by Carlotta Adams

to her sister.

In it, she says quite clearly that it was
Ronald Marsh who paid her $2,000,

but Monsieur Marsh, he denies this.

And it is true...

that he had in his possession
not such an amount.

So, are you saying Carlotta was lying?

No, but it is perhaps that she concealed
the true identity of her employer.

What's the fifth question, Mr Poirot?

Who is P?

You remember the box
given to Carlotta Adams?

"To CA from P"?

Oui.

Who was it that gave to her this box?

This I would like to know most dearly.

What was the first question again, Poirot?

Actually, I may be able to help you, Mr Poirot.

My file on London jewellers.

A specialised piece like that
should be easy enough to track down.

Then, Miss Lemon, this I entrust to you.

Merci.

So, are you going to this lunch, Poirot?
Ronald Marsh?

No, no, no, Hastings.
I have work to do here in my apartment.

No, you must be my eyes and my nose.

- Ears.
- Oui. To see and observe in my place.

Right. You can count on me.

Madam.

- Try Addison's, madam, on the right.
- Thank you very much.

I think you were sweet!

- Oh, Captain Hastings, do sit down.
- Thank you.

- Hello.
- Mr Poirot couldn't make it, then?

No, I'm afraid he has to work.

Captain Hastings, is it true about Alton?

Yes, I'm afraid he died trying to make a run for it.

But the police don't think he was responsible
for Lord Edgware's death.

Well, I wish they'd find out whoever did it.

This whole thing is driving us mad.
It's suffocating us.

Don't worry. Mr Poirot won't give up.

I know he won't.

That's right. You know, he's never failed yet.

I don't suppose you remember me,
Captain Hastings? I'm Donald Ross.

- We met at Sir Montagu's.
- Yes, of course. You're a writer.

A great writer.

I've just finished reading his first play,
The Trojan Wars. It's going to be a smash.

We're all here to celebrate
freedom and independence.

I suppose the toast ought to be to whoever did
kill him. He or she did us all a great favour.

No.

Oh, come on, Jane. You can't say
you weren't pleased to see him go?

No.

But any one of us sitting at this table
could have killed him.

And I won't drink to that.

I simply won't.

Oh, that one. That's just what I want.

- Don't you like it?
- I suppose so.

Oh, good afternoon, madam.

Yes, this is definltely my work.
I recognise the inscription.

It was commissioned only a few weeks ago.

Only a few weeks ago?

But it's meant to be a souvenir
of something that happened in November.

- That's seven months.
- Yes, I wondered about that, too.

Can you tell me who ordered it?

Yes, er...

It was a lady.

Give me a moment.

Ah, here.

A Mrs Van Dusen.

Van Dusen?

Yes, an elderly lady, if I remember rightly.

Dressed in black.

With a fur cape.

Grey hair, I think.

Oh, yes, and she was wearing pince-nez.

Don't get me wrong.
I enjoyed Private Lives as much as anyone.

But Noel Coward is simply a passing fashion.

Light-hearted and instantly forgettable.

So, where do your passions lie, Mr Ross?

Well, at the moment, I have to say,
I am fascinated by the Judgement Of Paris.

But Paris doesn't have any judgement at all
when it comes to fashion.

These days, one has to look to Milan
and New York.

I was referring to the judgement
of the shepherd boy, Paris.

He gave the golden apple to Aphrodite
and so sparked off the war with Troy.

Oh.

That Paris.

Why do we have to talk about theatre
all of the time?

Percy, you must be bored rigid.

No, I could never be bored with you.

Paris...

Mrs Van Dusen?

You are sure of this name, Miss Lemon?

Absolutely, Mr Poirot.

Then this is the same lady
that Jane Wilkinson met here at this hotel

on the night that her husband was murdered.

Here we are, sir. Mrs Van Dusen.

Room 174. She booked in for one night.

One night only?

Yes, sir.

Actually, I do remember her,
now I think about it. An American lady.

Elderly. She wore...

- Pince-nez.
- Yes.

I wouldn't remember her,

only the maid said the bed wasn't slept in,
which seemed odd at the time.

Oh, Poirot.

Ah, Hastings.

- How went the lunch?
- Oh, it went pretty well.

They were all there.
Brian Martin, Penny Driver,

Jane Wilkinson, and even the Duke of Merton.

Oh, and that writer chap,
Donald Ross, was there.

He asked you to telephone him.

Comment?

Yes, he seemed puzzled by something.

- He gave me his card.
- When was this, Hastings?

Half an hour ago.

And he asked me to telephone him
in front of all those people?

Yes.

They have a telephone at the desk, Mr Poirot.

- May I use your telephone, please?
- Of course, sir.

Merci.

This is Donald Ross.

Ah, Mr Poirot. Thank you for calling.

I didn't want to bother you,

but there's something to me that seems
odd in connection with Lord Edgware's death.

It was Paris that set me off.

It suddenly got me thinking.

Just a moment.

Stabbed in the neck.
Same as Lord Edgware.

And it actually happened while he
was talking to you on the telephone?

Oui. But before he had time to explain
to me what he wished to say.

This is all my fault, Poirot.
If only I'd stayed with him.

Not at all, Hastings.

The fate of Monsieur Donald Ross, it was
settled the moment he spoke my name.

Someone at that lunch
must have overheard him,

followed him back here and then...

Yes, but which one of them was it?
And why?

I mean, this chap was just a writer.
A nobody.

How would he know anything about anything?

He managed to mention only...
the name of Paris.

Paris?

I think it must have triggered a memory
which until then had remained hidden.

Wasn't Lord Edgware going to Paris?

Didn't he say he was going to buy a painting?

Tell me, Hastings,

at that luncheon, who was the first to leave?

Er, Brian Martin...

and Penny Driver,

then Jane Wilkinson and the Duke of Merton.

No, wait a minute,
it was actually the other way round.

Sacré!

Oh, Hastings!

I have been so foolish.

And yet, it is so simple.

The five questions?

Yes?

The answers, Hastings,

they fall into place at last.

I'm afraid Lady Edgware isn't in, sir.

But it is not Lady Edgware
I have come to see, Mademoiselle Alice.

It is you.

I have here a letter,

and it would be of great interest to me
to know if you recognise the writing?

- I'll just need to fetch my glasses.
- You will permit me, mademoiselle?

Ah!

Oh, thank you, sir.

No, sir. I don't know this writing.
What made you think I would?

Vraiment, mademoiselle,
I knew that with certainty you would not.

And so, we return to where we began.

It was here,
during an evening of entertainment,

that I first met many of you,
who gather here again today.

But little did I know that that very same night,

a murder most ingenious, it was being planned.

Are you saying you know who killed him,
Mr Poirot?

Was it one of us?

Ah.

Each person here had the reason
to wish the death of Lord Edgware.

For Monsieur Ronald Marsh,
it was a question of money.

For Mademoiselle Geraldine, it was a chance
to be rid of a father that she loathed.

The Duke of Merton also knew
that the death of Lord Edgware

would allow him to marry the lady that he loved.

- Well, I had no reason to kill him.
- Au contraire, Monsieur Martin.

It is my belief that you had
the greatest reason of all.

You were in love with Jane Wilkinson,
were you not?

- I don't really see that...
- It wasn't love!

It was infatuation.

Brian feels nothing for her now.

And you believe that
his feelings now are for you alone?

We're in love, yes.

We have been since the day we met.

And yet Jane Wilkinson stole him from you.
Ah, yes, mademoiselle.

Even now, you cannot speak
her name without the anger.

She is a woman you would be
glad to see hanged.

To murder Lord Edgware and then to
frame Jane Wilkinson for his death,

that would be revenge indeed.

No. I never thought of that.

Yes, you did!

Why else come to me with a cock-and-bull
story about a man with a gold tooth?

- What? It wasn't true?
- No, Hastings.

It was like something from the cinema.
I saw that at once.

But the real reason that you came to me,

that followed very soon.

Do you think she had it in her to commit murder?

I'm sure of it. I know her, you see.

I mean, she's terribly sweet on the surface.

But she would kill as easily
as drink her morning tea. Believe me.

You came to me to poison my mind
against Jane Wilkinson,

to impress upon me
the fact that she was a killer.

But you already knew Lord Edgware was dead.

And how did you know this, monsieur?

- Because you had killed him the night before.
- No, you've got it wrong.

Why must you lie to me?
You were seen leaving the house.

Wait!

It was just before ten o'clock that
you were seen by Mr Ronald Marsh,

who had returned from the opera with
Mademoiselle Geraldine to retrieve a necklace.

That was Brian.

No, you've got it wrong. It wasn't me.
For God's sake!

Enough.

You deny that you lied to me?

No.

All right, all that stuff about the gold tooth...

You're right about that.
I was trying to incriminate her.

What?

You're heartless, Jane. She is as cold as ice.

I loved you,

and you threw me over
without so much as a second thought.

Yes, I wanted to see her hang.

And in order to achieve that end, monsieur,
you attempted to deceive Hercule Poirot.

But I didn't kill him.

I never went near the house that night.

I heard the news the next day.

And that's when I had the idea.

I must have been mad.

Yes, indeed.

And for the attempt to deceive Hercule Poirot,

you have now been punished.

What? You mean, you know it wasn't me?

The person seen by Monsieur Ronald Marsh
was, I think, the butler Alton,

leaving with the French francs, and...

oui, there is a resemblance.

- He was hooking it with the money?
- Exactement, Chief Inspector.

I also believe he discovered the body
the night before,

and not the following morning,
as he told to us.

He took the opportunlty to steal the money

and was leaving the house
in orderto place it somewhere safe.

He thought Lady Edgware
would be arrested for the murder.

Précisément, Hastings.

It was only when it was discovered that
Lady Edgware, she had the alibi parfait,

that he panicked.

You mean he realised
we'd be looking for another motive?

Oui.

The theft of the money.

So you knew all along that it wasn't Brian, then?

Oui, mademoiselle.

But Monsieur Martin was not alone
in his dislike for Lady Edgware.

You, Miss Carroll.

When I asked you the identity of the woman
you saw entering the hall of Regent Gate...

It was her. I'd know her anywhere.

And I saw her quite clearly.

But you were standing
high up on the landing.

It's all right, Alton, I know the way.

The person who entered that night
wore a hat with a slanting brim.

From where you were standing,

it would have been impossible to see the face.

- I saw her.
- Non, mademoiselle.

You saw, I think, what you wished to see.

The woman who had wronged the man
you had well served.

It's true.

She never deserved him.

It would have been impossible for
Jane Wilkinson to have committed the murder.

Because as we now know,

Jane Wilkinson changed her mind
and attended the dinner at Holborn.

But from the beginning,

I have been perplexed...

..by five questions.

One:

What happened to the letter

written by Lord Edgware informing his wife
that he had agreed to the divorce?

Two:

Who is this letter P
on the little gold medicine box?

Three:

Who made the telephone call
to Jane Wilkinson at the dinner at Holborn?

Four:.

How did a pair of pince-nez come to be
discovered in the handbag of Carlotta Adams?

And five...

Why did the letter of Carlotta Adams
state quite clearly

that it was Ronald Marsh
who paid to her the sum of $2,000

when it was impossible
he could have afforded that sum?

Do you have the answers?

Of course Mr Poirot has the answers.
That's why you're here.

Merci beaucoup, Miss Lemon.

So let us begin
with the little gold medicine box.

From the start, I felt
that there was something strange.

Because the inscription inside
referred to a date seven months before.

But the jeweller told me
the box was brand new.

Oui. C'est ça.

You see, I do not believe
that there existed this P,

that there was no meeting in November.

We are in the world of the theatre.

And this little gold box,
it was used merely as a prop.

To make us think
that Carlotta was taking Veronal?

Oui.

But now let us turn our attention
to the pince-nez.

They were also found
in the handbag of Carlotta Adams.

But they were left there, I believe, by accident.

But who by?

By the woman who collected
the gold box from the jeweliery shop.

This was the same woman who took a room
for the night at the Piccadilly Palace Hotel.

It was an American woman
by the name of Mrs Van Dusen.

Certainly, Mrs Van Dusen.

I met her. She was a writer.
She wanted me to have a look at her play.

Non, non, madame, that was not
Mrs Van Dusen who you met,

because Mrs Van Dusen, she does not exist.

What?

Then who was she?

Ah, well, that is indeed the question.

You know, with the thick lenses,
the pince-nez are a disguise. Very simple.

But with a wig that is grey
and the cape of fur wrapped high...

Well, she had me completely fooled.

Are you saying she was part of all this?

Oh, yes. Yes, madame.

Mrs Van Dusen, yes,
she was very much a part of this.

She was the creation of a killer
who was cunning and cold-blooded.

Also, the creation...

..of an actress formidable.

Yes, madame.

All is known to Hercule Poirot.

The entire plan by which
you did indeed murder your husband.

Wait a minute, what are you saying?

So I was right?
It was her, after all.

But, Poirot, that's impossible.
You said as much yourself.

Not impossible, mon ami.

Let me explain to you...

..how it occurred.

Thank you, Alice.

At seven o'clock in the evehing, Jane
Wilkinson leaves for the Piccadilly Palace Hotel.

On the way there, she makes a stop.

For, when she arrives,
her appearance, it has changed.

Now, there is the grey wig, the pince-nez.

Room 174.

She takes her room using
the identity of an elderly American woman.

But the moment she is inside this room,
she removes her disguise...

..and awaits the arrival of a person she has
arranged to meet there that very same hight.

Carlotta, darling.

It's wonderful to see you.

So, are you sure about all this?

Are you really game?

You bet I am!

Tonight, I'm going to prove to you

just how good I really am.

And now the moment
for the second disguise,

it has arrived.

As arranged previously,
the two women exchange their clothes.

There, what do you think?

It's amazing. You're me.

For tohight, Carlotta Adams is
about to play the great practical joke.

This evehing, she will become Lady Edgware.

- Could I have a taxi, please?
- Certainly, Lady Edgware.

You know, all the time it had been so simple.

And yet still, I did not see.

Until a chance remark was made by my good
friend and colleague, Captain Hastings.

"It was actually the other way round."

Those were your very words,
n'est-ce pas, mon ami?

- Yes, but...
- And suddenly, all became clear.

Always, I had assumed

that Carlotta Adams had been paid
to act the role of Jane Wilkinson

while the real Jane Wilkinson
attended the dinner at Holborn.

But actually...

..it was the other way round.

It was Carlotta
who went to the dinner in Holborn.

That's impossible.
Someone would have recognised her.

No, I do not think so, mademoiselle.

There was the wig, the clothes,

and Carlotta Adams was
a performer most accomplished.

The dining-room was lit only by candlelight

and you must also remember that no-one
at the table had met the real Lady Edgware

on more than one or two occasions.

But it was still a risk most grave.

It was essential

that Lady Edgware should ascertain
whether this deception had been a success.

And it was for this reason

that she made the telephone call
to the dinnerat Holborn.

It's gone like a dream.

Nobody suspects a thing.

That's wonderful, darling.
I knew you could do it.

Bye.

You're Alton, aren't you? Is my husband in?

Yes, ma'am.

The butler had only been employed
there for one month, so he hardly knew her.

And if he did express his doubts,
it would only be his word against hers.

And so,

having prepared her way,

she strikes.

But Carlotta Adams must not be allowed
to relate her tale.

So Lady Edgware arranged
to meet her again in the room at the hotel.

Perhaps they will have some wine

to celebrate the success.
of this great practical joke.

And the little gold medicine box which was
placed into her handbag and later found by us,

will make us believe Carlotta Adams was
a woman always in the habit of using this drug.

Lady Edgware learns
all the details she must know

if she is to pretend that
she did indeed attend the dinner at Holborn.

I was sitting opposite this young playwright.

Scottish.

His name was Donald Ross.

Carlotta Adams sips her wine.

..on and on about this play of his.

One hour later,
when she has returned home,

the Veronal will have taken its effect.

It was all about the war at Troy.

You made two mistakes, madame.

The pince-nez that you used
for the disguise of Mrs Van Dusen,

you took from your maidservant, Alice.

In all of the exchanges of costume, madame,

you left the pince-nez
in the handbag of Carlotta Adams

instead of your own.

Did I?

Yes, you did.

But more serious was your encounter
with the young writer, Monsieur Donald Ross.

I am fascinated by the judgement of Paris.

But Paris doesn't have any judgement at all
when it comes to fashion.

It was indeed a social gaffe to show
such ignorance on the judgement of Paris.

But only a few days earlier, he had
explained to you his play, the war of Troy.

It was inconceivable

that a woman, who had known then
of which he spoke, could be so ignorant now.

Paris...

- So he saw through her?
- Oui.

Malheureusement, Monsieur Donald Ross
expressed his suspicions

in the presence of Lady Edgware.

And it was at once that she knew
that he also had to be silenced.

So...

It was her all along.

But wait a minute, Poirot.
In that letter that Carlotta Adams wrote,

she definltely said she'd been hired by a man.

Ah, yes.

Oh, yes. That was most cunning, that.

Carlotta Adams did indeed
leave the house with a letter,

but she had neglected to post it.

And in the exchange of handbags,

it was discovered by Lady Edgware,
who decided to use it for her own ends.

Carlotta Adams wrote first
of her meeting with Monsieur Ronald Marsh

and then ofthe person
who gave to her the money.

But what if there was
between these two descriptions...

..an entire page that was missing?

A page removed by Lady Edgware.

A page missing? How do you know that?.

Because, as she was writing,
there was left an indentation on the third page.

Here are some words you can see
from the page before.

But these very same words,

they do not appear on these pages that remain.

But the third page begins with "He asked".

She was writing about a man.

Oui, but you will notice, Hastings,

that on the top of this third page,
there is a little tear.

Now, always I had assumed
that this was made by accident,

but in fact, it was done on purpose.

To change "she" into "he".

Oui.

It was of Lady Edgware
that Carlotta Adams was writing.

And from Lady Edgware
did she receive the money.

Ah, madame.

You are a woman most remarkable.

Eh, parbleu,

to pull over my eyes the cotton wool.

The letter, the disguise.

Et surtout, to send me to your husband,

to turn me into a witness
that you had no motive for murder.

Ma foi!

You made of me,
Hercule Poirot, your cat's-paw.

But it's true, Mr Poirot, there was no motive,
if she was going to get a divorce.

A divorce would have been
of no use to her.

Which is why she pretended never to have got
the letter from her husband.

Monsieur le Duc,
you are of the religion catholique, n'est-ce pas?

Yes, I am. How did you know?

Jane Wilkinson told me you intended
to get married at Westminster.

Et naturellement,
I assumed that she meant the Abbey.

But later, you invited me to the Cathedral.

Westminster Cathedral.

Et voila. It was then that I knew
that you must be catholique.

And he couldn't marry a divorced woman.

- Oui.
- So that's why Lord Edgware had to die.

My God, Jane. Tell me it isn't true.

I'm sorry, Percy.

I really thought I'd get away with it, you know.

I thought I had you,

ze great detective,

round my little finger.

I've always had that, you know.

A power over men.

I wished only to protect you, madame.

But I could not protect you from yourself.

Jane!

Oh, I'm not going to deny it, Percy.

Why should I?

After all...

..I've actually enjoyed it.

All of it.

Even being caught.

I mean...

..it does put me centre stage.

And who knows?

Maybe they'll put me in Madame Tussaud's.

Poirot, I came as soon as I got your message.
What is it?

It is this, mon ami. It arrived for you today.

Oh.

Oh, it's a cheque made out to me for...

Good Lord!

- From the Duke of Merton, I understand?
- Well, yes, but...

After the arrest of Lady Edgware, Hastings,

the Duke, he made contact with me.

For him, it was a lucky escape.

He felt it deserved, as he said,
a reward most substantial.

But shouldn't this be made out to you?

Non, non, pas de tout, mon ami.
It was you who provided the clue that was vital.

"The other way round."

Précisément, Chief Inspector.

And therefore it is to you, Hastings,

that the reward rightfully belongs.

I thought we ought to celebrate.

It should be sufficient, mon ami,
for you to purchase an apartment in London.

Oh, I don't know, Mr Poirot.

I saw an interesting investment opportunity
in the financial pages this morning.

- Oh, yes?
- The Northern England Railway Corporation.

They're building a line from Liverpool to Carlisle.

Oh, yes, I read about that. They say you could
double that cheque in a couple of weeks.

- Do you really think so?
- Absolument, mon ami.

Of course, they will have to construct a bridge
over six miles of water.

They've got to get across
the Cumbrian mountains.

The Scaffel Pike's only 3,000 feet high.

You know, I think I'll put this in the bank.

- Santé.
- Santé.