All language subtitles for 08. The Incredible Theft

Mayfield. Heard George.

Show me.

Better be good.

Some say too good for his majesty's
government, if you ask me. Too much the

defense committee, Mayfield.

So this is it at last, is it?

A Mayfield Kestrel.

Until we can think of a better name?

Petroleum jelly, Hastings.

That is the secret.

You rub it well in, and it will prevent
the cracking, yes?

How do you work out cubic, what do you
call them?

Como?

Cubic thingamies. How do you work them
out?

I mean, this ceiling is, what, ten feet
up, yes?

So do you multiply ten... Hastings, I am
trying to instruct you in the care of

patent leather.

Something that will be of use to you in
later life.

Well, so will cubic watsit.

Suppose I had to survey something or
something.

You do not deceive me, Hastings. You are
having these eccentric thoughts because

of this girl of yours, eh?

The student of architecture.

Well, we never seem to have anything to
talk about.

I tried reading a book about Bernini.

She's very keen on Bernini.

I couldn't make head or tail of it. No,
no, no, no, no, no.

Hastings, women do not wish to talk
about Bernini and cubic thingamies.

I don't know that she wants to talk
about anything.

She's never in when I call round to see
her.

I end up having tea with her mother
every day.

more maneuverable got a turning circle
of 800 feet visibility is better too

fuel injection no pity pm's very keen on
fuel injection he's right but

we just haven't got a reliable system
yet

This lady keeps telephoning, Mr. Poirot.

Sarkai. What a terrible circumstance.

There's no need to be sarcastic, Mr.
Poirot.

I was going on to say that I didn't put
her through to you because she wouldn't

give her name.

I told you don't take anonymous phone
calls.

But I do, Miss Lemont.

Sometimes I think anonymous telephone
calls are the only ones worth taking.

But how will I know where to file her if
I haven't got a name?

Life first, Miss Lemont.

Filing second.

Very well, then.

Next time she calls, I'll let her talk
to you.

And on your own head, be it.

You shouldn't tease her, Poirot.

She makes it irresistible.

It's like a solid wall of lead, two feet
square, coming straight at you.

The main spire must be tremendously
strong to withstand the G -force of

turning circle. And the recoil from the
guns.

It's built up in layers, so the whole
thing acts like a giant leaf spring.

And we're still improving on it, too.

But I can't go on pouring my own money
into the Kestrel forever.

You seem not to understand the position
that the Defence Committee is in,

Mayfield. They like you. Most of them
are 100 % behind you. But that Japanese

business only brought the government
down.

One more scandal like that... There are
no more scandals like that. You're

saying they don't trust me. It's not a
question of trust. You're kidding.

Very well, then.

If they want me to prove to them that
they can trust me, that's what I'll do.

How do you mean?

How will you do that?

I've invited Mrs. Vandalin down for the
weekend.

Mrs. Vandalin? You mad?

You've invited her down here?

And before the weekend is out, I promise
you I'll have hooked Mrs.

Vandalin, reeled her in, and gaffed her.
How?

By using the plans of the Kestrel as a
bait.

You idiot!

You can't go using top -secret papers
like that!

Mrs. Vandalin!

Hercule Poirot's residence?

Yes.

What name is it, please?

Hold on one moment, please.

It's your anonymous telephone caller
again.

She's calling herself Miss Miss this
time, but it's fine.

Put her through, Miss Lemmon. Yes, Mr
Poirot.

Are you there?

Mr. Poirot will speak to you now.

Hello. Mr. Poirot?

Yes, Miss Smith.

I need to meet you, Mr. Poirot. This is
a national emergency.

No, no, no, I can't come there.
Somewhere where nobody will know us.

I'm sure that can be arranged,
mademoiselle.

Where do you suggest?

You are not Miss Smith?

Yes, I am.

Where's your green carnation?

I wanted time to study.

I was carrying my time.

These arrangements, once made, should be
adhered to Miss Smith.

My husband.

Yes?

My husband has invited a woman to stay
this weekend at our house.

No, Miss Smith, go no further.

Poirot does not handle this type of
work.

No, no, you don't understand. This is a
dangerous woman.

I know that a man as distinguished in
his field as you are wouldn't handle

of domestic cases.

There's more at stake here.

I see.

My name is not really Miss Smith.

I am astounded.

My name is Mayfield, Lady Margaret
Mayfield.

And who is Lord Mayfield?

There isn't one. I'm only Mrs Mayfield,
really.

But my father was an earl.

And who is this dangerous woman you talk
about?

Mrs Joanna Vandalin.

Mrs Vandalin is rumoured to have pro
-German sympathies.

There was a scandal two years ago with
young Marcus of Lowestoft.

He shot himself.

Yes, I remember.

Mrs. Vandalin was involved?

Yes. It was thought that he'd passed on
to her certain secret information.

I did not know that.

He's kept hushed up as much as possible.

His regiment has been involved in
testing the Galahad town.

And you think... My husband is engaged
in a lot of projects that are crucial to

the future of this country. If an
enemy...

He should gain access.

Surely you do not suspect your husband
of treachery? No, of course not.

But the government has treated him very
badly ever since that Japanese business.

You must have read about it.

Even though his name was clear, they
still don't give him the backing he

Bitterness may make him less careful
than he should be.

Please help me, Monsieur Poirot.

There is so much at stake for England.

Good evening, Lady Carrington.

Hello, Dawson.

Where is everybody?

On the lower terrace, Lady Carrington.

We can only put our trust in the League
of Nations.

Pray for peace.

Isn't that a rather peculiar thing for
an arms manufacturer to do, sir?

What is it Beverly Nichols calls you?

Merchants of death.

Mr Mayfield is an armaments
manufacturer, Reggie, because this

can only be played from strength. Quite
right, Sir George.

Oh, sorry, Dad.

Didn't realize it was all a game.

Where has the fabled Mrs. Vanderling got
to, I wonder?

Heaven the foggiest. She arrived hours
ago.

You've met her before?

Not since I was a child.

Please. Yes, she's the daughter of H .K.
Griffin.

Man, he's the American ambassador over
here.

Apparently, we all have to be very nice
to the Americans these days.

Ready for when the war starts.

Huh?

Mother's finally arrived.

All these exciting people.

I wasn't warned it was going to be a
rout.

Isabelle, I'm so glad you could come.
I'm just sorry I'm so unforgivably late.

Will I be completely detroit if I don't
change?

You'll be the talk of steeplebums. Oh,
God, I wouldn't want that.

Good journey, darling.

Lovely, George. The A11 is particularly
enthralling at this time of year. Hello,

Tommy.

May I introduce Monsieur Hercule Poirot.

How nice to meet you.

Foreign, yes.

You'll soon pick up our little ways.

Talking quick.

Oh, how English.

How very, very English.

We've got some very American dry
martinis mixed, if you'd like one.

Oh, that would be wonderful.

Trouble with the foreign offices is very
long on protocol.

Whether the Prime Minister of Timbuktu
should take precedence over the King of

Ungo -Bongo.

Very short on what Winnie describes as
intestinal fortitude.

I'm sure that's not true of your foreign
secretary.

I must bow to your superior knowledge,
Mrs. Vanderlyn.

I'm sure you know Mr.

Eden a great deal better than us.

Humble selves, eh? I wouldn't say that.

But when I had lunch with him yesterday,
he was saying more or less the same as

you about the Foreign Office's passion
for protocol.

No, thank you.

I refuse to let Matt waste that time
drinking pork on this bridge to be

Sir George?

I'll tell you.

You see what sort of a woman she is.

The sort of woman Mrs. Van Der Linn is
does not make a matter of national

importance.

I do hope you're right, Monsieur Poirot.

Actually, the whole European situation
is rather like a bridge game at the

moment.

On the one hand, we have the diminutive
Fuhrer. On the other hand, Signor

Mussolini, the bullfrog of the Pontine
Marshes.

In the end, they'll both need taking
down a peg or two.

And what about the Emperor Hirohito,
sir?

Will he need taking down a peg?

What did he say?

Has he said something nasty again?

He's such a little snot, aren't you,
darling?

Tommy's working too hard.

He believes we're on the brink of war.

That he can stop it single -handed?

Something like that.

The truth is, of course, he can do more
than most people.

A little slam, I think.

Congratulations, Potter.

Aren't you going to give us our revert?
George and I have work to do, I'm

afraid. The plans are ready for you,
sir.

We'll join you in a minute. Come along,
George, if you'll excuse us.

We'll take a promenade in the garden.

Before turning in.

It will clear my brain.

You might have done that before we
played cards.

Madame is too agreeable.

Good night.

There you are, my friend.

Why can't I stay at the house? That's
what I want to know.

Number one, Hastings, you are not
invited.

A pure oversight.

Number two, I need you at this stage
incognito and very nearby.

Well, my incognito's gone for a start.

Why? Why is this?

Well, the pub's so crowded, I'm having
to share a room, and you'll never guess

who with.

No, Hastings, I will not.

Jap.

With the Chief Inspector Japp?

And the room has only got one bed.

I wonder why the Chief Inspector Japp is
here.

You're not very sympathetic.

We all have our troubles, Hastings.

I would rather share a bed with the
Chief Inspector Japp and three of his

sergeants than to be partnered at a
bridge with the Lady Carrington.

Yes, I've been hearing about her from
the chauffeur.

Apparently Sir George is trying to get
her to give up cards altogether.

Yes, well, I'm very pleased to hear it,
mon ami. She plays abominably.

No, but she loses a lot of money at it.

She's heavily in hock to moneylenders.

Really?

Hastings, try to find out for me, if you
please, who asked the chief inspector

to be here.

That is most interesting.

What do you

think

of this idea of detecting aircraft by
radio echoes?

How do you?

Feasible. We put a certain amount of
money into research.

How much money?

I'm not going to tell you that.

Oh, hello.

I just came in to fetch my bag.

Don't mind us.

Good night again.

Good night.

Having that woman here is a mistake,
Mayfield. No matter what your intentions

are, do you no good. Do me a great deal
of good when I get her put into Holloway

Prison. It's all nonsense. All this talk
of trapping her.

What was that? What?

Someone ran across the terrace there.

I didn't see anything.

Anyway, how do you intend to travel?

Sure I saw something.

Why do politicians treat everyone else
like idiots?

Probably because they voted for us in
the first place.

I've laid everything out on the desk.

Will you want me any more tonight?

No, we'll probably be late. You might as
well turn in.

I'll lock these away myself.

Right.

Good night, Mr Mayfield, Sir George.

Just a minute.

You've forgotten the most important
paper.

I don't think so, sir.

Sheet number three, the mathematics for
the aluminium strepping.

I put it on the top.

Well, it isn't here.

I don't understand. I put it here. I
know I did.

Oh, you must have made a mistake.

It must still be in the safe.

No, I put it there.

I looked for it particularly and put it
on the top.

Do you mean to tell me it's gone?

Who's been in this room?

No one at all.

Well, it can't just have vanished into
thin air. Someone must have taken it.

Can Poirot be of assistance?

Finding the lost property is something
of a profession of mine.

What is missing?

This is a matter of national security.

I think we should alert Inspector Japp.
Telephone him at the three crowds, would

you, Mr. Carlisle?

Where does that door lead?

meant to happen.

But it was. You said... Not like this.

She's turned the tables on us.

Oh, my God, I knew it.

I knew it.

I told you not to play with fire.

What am I going to tell the pier?

Nothing for the moment.

We mustn't panic.

I'm damned if that woman's going to get
away with it.

Mr. Mayfield, forgive me. I do not wish
to delve into the secrets.

But please, can you give me some idea of
what is on the paper?

I don't know how closely you follow
international events, Mr. Poirot, but

Germany has just announced that she has
parity with this country in the air.

And so I understand.

What that means is that that piece of
paper is perhaps our only chance of

keeping our civilian population safe
from aerial attack.

Am I exaggerating?

Not a job.

So the technical breakthrough, huh?

And worth a considerable amount of
money.

Oh, money doesn't enter into it. Well,
it might be some people, and in certain

quarters.

Trade, as you mean?

Indeed.

But anyone, me included, could knock on
the door of the German embassy, and when

I come out, I could be a rich man if I
had these papers? Certainly.

Monsieur Carlyle, before I went for my
promenade in the garden, you volunteered

to get the papers ready in here?

Yes. And shortly after that, everyone
else went upstairs to prepare for the

I presume so. I don't know.

Yes, they did.

Mrs. Vanderlyn came down again.

Indeed. That's right.

She'd forgotten her bag.

Ah, the old gasp. Oh, no. Vado.

the old wheeze, to return for something
you say you have forgotten.

Quite.

Monsieur Carlyle, after you had opened
the safe and got out the papers,

did you leave the study again even for a
moment?

No, not for a second.

So, everyone else was upstairs preparing
for the bed, except Mrs. Vandalin, who

came down for her bag, and yet...

The plans are stolen.

Monsieur Carlyle, do you still want to
say you did not leave the study?

I don't know what all this is about,
Poirot.

Carlyle has been my confidential
secretary for nine years.

He has access to all my private papers.

He could have made a copy of that sheet
any time he liked with no one being any

the wiser.

Why would he need to stage a rather
clumsy robbery?

Thank you, Mr. Mayfield.

If Monsieur Poirot has any suspicions, I
should like all my belongings searched.

No, no, no, no, no, Monsieur Carlyle. I
cast not the aspersions.

It is a small problem merely, but a
problem that will agitate the

little grey cells most adequately.

on guard all the time. I don't see how
anyone can get into that room.

Yes, well, it is no use running to
conclusions, Mr. Mayfield.

It was from there that you saw Mrs.
Vanderlin in here.

A little further back, I think.

From where I was in the garden, I could
see that the dining room was in

darkness.

But it would have been quite possible
for someone to use those doors to get

onto the terrace and from there into...

The study.

I told you I thought I saw something.

Right, George, you did. There.

Across the lawn to a waiting car.

He'll be miles away by now.

No, no, no, no, no, no. The one way
through the garden would have taken him

directly past me.

Uh, what's going on?

Get back to bed, Reggie.

So, an interesting situation.

The only person who could possibly have
stolen those most important papers is

one of us.

Poor Mrs. Vanderlyn.

Here, Mr. Mayfield, Sir George, fire
out.

What's all this then about a theft?

A very important secret paper has been
stolen from my study, Chief Inspector.

Right, lads, fan out. Whittaker, take
the north end of the house. Dobson, the

upstairs landing.

Beals, the servants' quarters.

It is not perhaps as simple as that, mon
ami.

Whoever stole this paper will not leave
it lying around where we will find it.

Leave this to the professionals, Poirot.

Missing documents are an everyday
occurrence to my lads.

I'll bet.

And who might you be?

His son.

Thought I told you to go to bed.

Sorry, Chief Inspector.

It's all perfectly simple, really.

You see, we know who stole those papers.

Indeed. George, I don't think we
should... A guest in this house.

A Mrs.

Vandalin. Really?

Well... So I suggest we get straight up
there and... Pardon me for asking, sir,

but how precisely do we know this Mrs...
Vandalin?

Can't go into details now. A matter of
national security.

All you've got to do... George, I don't
know that this is the right idea.

Sorry, Mayfield.

I know it's your house and all that sort
of thing, but it's my pigeon, now.

Come on, Jack.

Mrs. Vanderlyn?

What is it?

It's Mr. George Carrington. I have the
police with me.

What do you want?

I'd like you to get dressed, Mrs.
Vanderlyn, and accompany me to the local

police station.

What are you talking about?

If you'd just get dressed, madam.

Damned if I will. What for?

Some papers have been stolen from Mr.
Mayfield's study, Mrs. Vanderlyn.

And? If you could just get dressed, Mrs.
Vanderlyn.

Did you plan this, Mr. Mayfield?

I'll get dressed.

Your joiners at the station, Mr.
Mayfield?

Must be here.

Must be.

Where's she hidden it? Why are you used
to this sort of thing?

She's got it with her. That's what it
is.

They'll find it when they search her.

Let's imagine you're a woman, Poira.

By all means, Sir George, if it will
help you. Right.

You're a woman.

You're in a strange household. You steal
some papers. Where do you hide them?

Sir George, there is one thing in all
this that I do not understand.

Okay.

I demonstrated, quite cautiously, I
think, that of all the people in the

only you, Monsieur Mayfield, Monsieur
Kalala, and myself could possibly have

stolen those papers, yes?

Right. And yet you go on talking as if
Mrs.

Vandaline was without doubt the
miscreant.

Huh?

Oh, yes.

Well, that sort of thing's all very
well, I'm sure, but only theory, isn't

We're practical folk here, Poirot.

Yes.

It's not in her wrong. She hasn't got it
on her either.

This is a disaster, Mayfield.

She must have hidden it somewhere to
collect it later.

Froggy thinks she didn't do it.

Froggy knows she didn't do it.

Anywhere you see the dust being
disturbed, let me know.

Just one sheet of paper we're looking
for, remember?

Could be anywhere.

Well, let's get rid of that.

Poirot, my dear fellow, I promise you,
you've never had anything like it.

You know those boots he wears?

Bang. The other one. Crash.

When he finally gets into bed, it's
worse.

Worse? He talks in his sleep.

Now I've got you, young fellow, my lad.
Jab of the yard. Strikes again. I

thought I'd go mad.

Every time I managed to drop off, he'd
start shouting. Stand back, lad. He's

a blancmange.

Some of the things he would say were
enough to make a cat laugh.

I can't take much more of it, Poirot.

I've been through three days of a Jerry
Barrage.

Where is he now?

Gone back up to the house.

By the way, I found out who asked him
down. It was Sir George.

Not Monsieur Mayfield?

Apparently not.

Just as I thought.

What happened about Mrs. Vanderlyn?

She's leaving this morning in a great
huff, yes?

In fact, the whole house is quite
deserted.

Lady Carrington and Reggie left after
breakfast.

Hastings. I want to ask you something.

Ask away.

Last night at dinner, one of the guests
said something to Monsieur Mayfield

about Japan.

What is it about Japan, Hastings?

Well, this is a few years back, when the
Japs took it into their head to invade

Manchuria. The press got hold of
something about Mayfield Company

with the howitzers they were bombarding
Shanghai with.

Turns out, eventually, that the press
had got hold of the wrong end of the

stick, as per usual.

But by that time, there'd been questions
in Parliament and God knows what.

And a lot of the mud stuck.

Hastings, I must go back to the house.

Well, give me half a second. I'll drive
you.

I want to change the plugs this morning
anyway. I thought I'd do it up there.

No, no, no.

I need to walk.

Mrs. Vanderlyn.

You left it there. Thank you.

Dixon.

Post this for her, will you?

She'll only forget.

Amen.

She's definitely running rich. Here,
let's have a look at the curb.

Hastings! Hastings!

Hastings, no more of the tinkering.

We have to follow Mrs. Vanderlaine. But
I've got the plugs out. It'll take me an

hour to get them back. Oh, no, Matthew!

We are Hastings. Allons -y!

I'm assuming they're heading for the
London Road.

You must not let them see a painting.

Can we get a move on, John?

Yes, ma 'am.

Damn!

What is it?

They should have turned left on the A11.

Why is that painting?

Because that's the road to London.

Get the map out of the pocket there.

Hold tight.

We're on that road there.

No.

Mean anything to you?

No.

Perhaps where they're going is not the
main road. Look at the villages on

side of the road.

No.

Fellow I knew at the front had a place
for frogging.

Right next door to the German
ambassador's country house.

Hastings.

Oh, my God.

Can we get there before them?

We can have a damn good try.

Where is it? I don't know.

It was...

in the hall. Dawson, put it there. It
seems to have disappeared.

Oh, God! Can nothing go right?

Yes, Hastings, we have seen enough.

Come, my friend.

I

wouldn't

have told you to have hidden them there,
sir.

Have you got any better suggestions,
Constable?

No, sir.

Warhol!

You have to trust me, Margaret.

I'll do as you tell me.

Everything you've worked for is at
stake, though.

It'll be all right.

Who is it?

Bonjour.

What do you want, Mr Poirot?

I have come back to tell you that the
plans have been safely delivered.

Delivered? To the German ambassador. I'm
sure Herr von Eckstorff was very

pleased.

Tommy, what are we going to do?

Also, Lady Margaret, I found this from
one of your guests. It needed to be

posted. Give me that. I don't want to
read it.

The address is probably a little
cigarette shop or a newsagent, Monsieur

Mayfield?

From which you can collect it at your
leisure?

No need to go into that, Mr Poirot. It's
a sleeping dog's life.

No, no, no, Monsieur Mayfield. Between
the husband and the wife, they should be

not the sleepy dogs.

I have no wish to read a letter
belonging to one of my guests.

Really?

Suppose I tell you that this was written
by Mrs. Vanderling and that I could

guarantee that you would not understand
one word of it.

They're in Chinese.

Japanese.

But Tom's signature's at the bottom.

This is the one piece of evidence that
links your husband to the sales of arms

to the Japanese.

Somehow they had fallen into the hands
of the Germans.

It was these two pieces of paper that
Mrs. Vandalin used to blackmail him.

She said, however, she would exchange
them for the plans of the Kestrel.

Oh, Tom.

If he was seen to hand over those plans
to Mrs. Vandalin, he would be ruined

anyway. So it had to look as if somebody
had stolen them.

And although he tried to persuade us
that he saw this mysterious figure on

terrace, it was Monsieur Mayfield
himself who stole those plans. It was

safest way.

And they were securely in his pocket
throughout the whole farce of Mrs.

Vandalin's arrest.

And you keep saying everything's going
to be all right.

It will, darling. Let me pass. Let me
pass. I've had enough of this, Mayfield.

What's going on?

I've been kept totally in the dark.

No, no, no, no, no, Sir George.

The Germans have got a missing pepper.

What?

And you, Monsieur Carlyle, I imagine you
know this as well as anyone.

The German high command now has plans of
our new fighter, on which they'll have

to wait six months of concentrated
effort before they realize they've been

a pup.

Pup?

Pup?

What's a pup?

The little dog, Sir George.

Little dog?

Oh, pup.

Sold a pup. The plans were doctored. The
maths doesn't make any sense.

But it'll take them a lot of work to
find that out.

Good God.

You cunning old devil.

Goes against the grain letting that
vandaline woman go scot -free, huh? She

pay eventually, mon ami.

For the moment, let her enjoy what she
thinks is her triumph.

If you ask me, it just shows the dangers
of meeting anonymous women at the zoo.

In you go, Jack.

Lady Margaret got what she wanted
anyway.

Her and Mayfield are all lovey -dovey
again.

Must be depressing for you when that
sort of thing happens, eh, Poirot?

What sort of thing?

Oh, everything working out for the best.

Some married couple ready for a second
honeymoon?

Orphaned children reunited with their
parents?

Yes, it is hard.

But we must put on it a brave face, huh?

And not allow cheerfulness to keep
breaking through.

Drive on, Hastings.