All language subtitles for 05. The Disappearance of Mr. Davenheim

Bye.

Mr. Davenine's back, madam.

Thank you, Walter. I won't be needing
the car over the weekend.

Well, thank you, mother.

You look tired.

Darling, it's okay.

How was your meeting this morning?

Well, so -so.

They must refer back to Wall Street, so
it'll be a few days yet.

Oh, by the way, Lohan rang.

He said he would be catching the earlier
train, after all. Oh.

I don't know why you agreed to see him
anyway.

You keep saying how much you detest the
man.

It wasn't quite that easy. He's a shark
and he's very slippery.

He's angling for a directorship at the
bank.

Has been for months now.

But you'd sooner die.

Gerald Lohan, a seat on your own bank.

Oh, he wants to make life as
uncomfortable for me as he can, and that

him just the power base to set about it.

Unfortunately, he does hold a bit of a
trump card this time.

Five percent stake in cave girl, which
she knows we're desperate to get hold of

it puts him in a rather strong
bargaining position. I'm afraid All

right, yes, I'm fine Well,

maybe he's on the 445 Could be here
pretty shortly

Really ought to go through one two of
these papers before he gets here

I don't know

Look, I just want to catch the last
post. I think I'll take a wander into

village. Lone or just beginning in, I
can meet him off the train.

Right. Anyway, spot a fresh air and do
me good.

Matthew.

The girl was no longer inside the
chrysalis when it vanished. There was a

secret. It battled even Poirot for a
full ten seconds.

The key, of course, lies in the costume
of the girl.

Inside, there is shown a network of very
fine steel wires.

Well, the human beings are made of flesh
and blood, no? To make them vanish into

the air?

It's impossible.

You think so?

I take it you haven't heard, then, about
the strange business of Mr. Matthew

Davenheim.

And we are talking about Mr. Davenheim
of Davenheim and Semmel.

Ah, the big banking firm. Of which
Matthew Davenheim was the senior

And a very wealthy man, too, if his
house is anything to go by.

Incidentally, my dear Chief Inspector,
you will have a little something to warm

you before you leave.

Well, seeing as I'm not on duty.

Yes, it's a rare old puzzle, all told.

Friday afternoon, he told his wife he
was off to the village to post some

letters. Walks out the front gate.
Hasn't been seen or heard of since.

And at what time precisely did Mr.
Davenham leave?

We gather around 4 .40.

He was expecting a business colleague to
arrive by train that afternoon to talk

over some financial deal or other.

Mr. Gerald Lowen.

A gentleman to see Mr. Davenham, madam.

Gerald Lowen.

How do you do?

Mr. Lowen.

You drove here, then. I didn't hear the
car.

No, I came by train, but we were a
little early, so I thought I'd walk up

the station.

But my husband was walking down to meet
you. How maddening. You must have passed

each other in the lane.

I don't think so.

Oh, but you must have.

He left here not far... Mrs. Davini, I
couldn't possibly have passed your

husband. The fact is...

That didn't pass anybody.

There wasn't another soul in the lane
all the way.

Please make yourself comfortable in
here.

I'm sure you won't be very long.

Good. Mrs. Davenheim showed Lowen into
her husband's study, and there he

And waited.

And waited.

Well, over an hour goes by.

Still, Davenheim doesn't return.

Gerald Lowen, his patience exhausted,
takes his leave.

This is the way your husband treats
important business clients, isn't it?

But I'm... I'm quite at a loss. I'm so
sorry. Yes.

I'm very sorry too, Mrs. Davenheim.

Very sorry indeed.

Inquiries are made throughout the
village. Nothing.

For all intents and purposes, Matthew
Davenheim has vanished off the face of

earth.

It seems everyone saw Lowen.

Nobody saw Davenheim.

Lowen. Why does that name ring a bell?

Certainly. It is most obscure, my dear
Chief Inspector.

Which gives me the great hopes of
solving it.

I'm afraid I can't see it myself.

Ah, but I do not see one in me.

I shut my eyes and I think.

One must always seek the truth from
within.

If you've told me that once, you've told
me a thousand times.

All right then, Poirot.

Here's a challenge for you.

A fiver of my money that says you can't
solve this little mystery without

leaving the house.

We'll give you seven days.

Of course, if it's beyond even your
magical powers.

Yeah, seven days, huh?

Well, provided the facts are placed
before me and that you will allow

here to furnish me with such information
as I require, the solution, it becomes

inevitable.

I accept.

Good night, Poirot.

Thanks for the drink.

Like robbing a baby.

Now, that's the way to walk to the
village, sir. About five minutes on

During which time he must have passed
low and coming from the station.

Can I just ask, what's down there?

That takes you right into Brooklyn, the
big motor racing venue.

A little way down there is a boating
lake. Now, we've checked with the

He swears Davenheim never passed with
us.

Captain Haytham, Chief Inspector.

Beg your pardon, sir?

What colour were they, if you can
remember?

It's the lowest prosa, sir.

Well, I know it's a rather odd question,
but a rather odd person would like to

know.

Kind of a light colour, I suppose you'd
say they were.

Light grey.

Very smartly turned out he was, apart
from that stupid moustache.

It goes back a long way.

There's a rivalry between them.

Lohan lost out to my husband in a big
deal over some shipping company shares.

The poor man was nearly wiped out.

That was a few years ago now, but he's
never stopped hounding Matthew ever

since.

I believe he came here to barter some
South African stock or something in

exchange for a position on the bank.

Did a lot of business in South Africa,
did he, your husband?

He was over in Johannesburg all last
winter. Must have been three months.

He brought me back the most wonderful
diamond earrings.

He always brought me back jewellery of
one kind or another, whenever he went

away.

Do you believe in a sixth sense, Chief
Inspector?

I had it the day my mother died.

I had it again on Friday.

All day, the certain knowledge that
something like this was going to happen.

And now it has, hasn't it?

I wonder if I might have a word now with
your maid.

I think I might have a word now with
your mistress.

Are you still here, Mr. Poirot?

I thought you'd be out on the Davenheim
case.

Ah, well, Miss Lemon.

The Chief Inspector, Jacques, has bet me
five pounds that I cannot solve this

mystery without leaving my apartment.

And I accept his bet.

Oh, are you sure that was wise?

Perhaps not, Miss Lemon.

On reflection, ten pounds would be a
much rounder sum.

I just told all I know to that police
inspector. I ain't got time to tell that

all again.

No, quite.

I can see you're a very busy man, Mr
Merritt.

Boatman's work's never done.

Yes. On Friday afternoon, Mr Merritt.

Oh.

I remember it all plain enough.

Friday afternoon's one of my busiest
times.

I remember looking at my watch. That
said, 4 .55.

Couple of vagrants come by.

Then this girl on a bike.

One of them was blind.

Ugly -looking pair, all told.

Looked as if they'd been drinking.

That were all that afternoon.

There weren't no one else come by. I'd
remember, wouldn't I?

Yes. Well, I'd better be getting along.

Wouldn't want to keep you from all your
work, Mr Merritt.

Don't you worry about that.

As soon as that paint's dry on that
bench, I'll be right up and give him

same coat.

Ah, light grey, you say?

That may be significant.

I'd still like to know what the colour
of Lowen's trousers has got to do with

anything.

Well, that is obvious, isn't it?

Monsieur Lowen says that he did not pass
Monsieur Davenheim in the lines, right?

Now, is he lying, Hastings?

Or did he in fact kill Monsieur
Davenheim?

A messy scuffle in a country road, the
disposal of a body in a muddy field, and

still he manages to turn up to the house
minutes later so immaculately dressed?

Ah.

Seemed rather trivial.

No, Hastings. Nothing is trivial in the
matter of murder.

I commend also for your attention...

The fact that before he leaves the room,
Monsieur Davenheim puts onto the

gramophone a record of the 1812
Overture.

Well, that was highly significant, too,
was it?

Well, we may as yet be on the wrong
track, but at least it is suggestive.

Track? That was it. Gerald Lowen.
Comment?

Gerald Lowen.

Racing the couple of Bugattis. Just
beginning to make a name for himself on

circuit. I bet.

Same show.

Ah, the racing of the cars, eh?

Round and around in the circles.

Never will I understand the passion for
such a pointless pastime. Oh, you've got

to experience it, Poirot. The sheer
exhilaration, flying round by the seat

your pants.

Yes, well, Hastings, perhaps you should
try cleaning them first.

Oh, God.

It's my husband.

You might just as well admit it, Mr.
Poirot. You can't... Stand being cooped

here on your own, away from all the
action.

Miss Lemon, he becomes denser by the
minute, eh?

If his body had been discovered in the
lake, eh bien, a simple murder problem

an intriguing suicide. But his clothes
are no Monsieur Davenheim, eh?

We are dealing here, Miss Lemon, with a
body of evidence requiring the most

skillful dissection.

Well, in that case, why don't you call
off this stupid bet and get out there,

ferret him for yourself?

Get out there ferreting, Miss Delon.

We are not hunting the jackrabbits.

This is a delicate exercise in the skill
of... Miss Delon, the door, if you

please. Mr. Poirot.

Only, sir, I've got a parrot with Mr.
Poirot.

No, no, no.

Poirot. It is pronounced Poirot.

I beg your pardon, Governor.

I've got a poirot with Mr Poirot.

But I heard nothing from the Commander
Wallis. He promised me faithfully he was

going to clear it with you first.

It's just that he had to dash away to
Scotland for a few days and there was no

one else who could look after it for
him.

Anyway, be a bit of extra company for
you as you're stuck inside the office

a week.

You do like birds, don't you, Mr.
Poirot?

Miss Lemon, small animals have no part
to play in the home life of a private

detective from Belgium.

Hello!

Except, of course, as a source of
nourishment.

I'm looking for Mr. Gerald Lowen. Well,
that was him.

He'll come back into the paddock next
time around.

You're interested in the car?

I'll say. Never seen a Bugatti fly like
that before. Best time we've ever done.

Really? Yes, we can meet him by the
ship.

So you altered the fuel system?

Oh, yeah, we took out the dual -belt
drive 224 as well. I'll mark you back,

The compression ratio.

Oh, yes, operating the supercharger,
sir. Brilliant. Don't you get a

HP for your rev rate? This is the
gentleman who's interested in the car.

Captain Hastings. You're Gerald Lowen.

Hastings?

Well, you'd better take it for a spin.

Really? That's terribly kind of you.

You sure?

Well, you want to get the whole picture?
Well, of course.

Mr. Lowen?

to be displayed during practice.

I'm sorry to trouble you, Mr. Lowen, but
I'm from Scotland Yard.

I wonder if you wouldn't mind answering
a question.

Colonel Brighton, Mr. Lowen. Mr.
Gentleman, I was telling you that.

Who's interested in buying the car?

Brighton.

Hastings.

Captain Hastings.

Chief Inspector.

I think the police have had quite enough
of my time, Chief Inspector.

Just one moment, please, Mr Lowen.

How many more times do you want me to
tell you?

I didn't pass Davenheim in that lane.

But we fell down a rabbit hole.

And good riddance.

I gather he'd given you a bit of a
hiding on the markets once or twice, Mr.

Lohan. Scored a few major coups at your
personal expense.

Davenheim's wealth was accumulated at
many people's expense.

I don't imagine I'm the only financier
in the city who bore him a grudge.

Well, you know what it's like.

Oh? What is it like, Mr. Lohan?

Dog -eat -dog in the city?

High -powered money men going for each
other's throats?

Look, if you're suggesting that I killed
Davenheim... And then tossed his damn

clothes away into that lake. Clothes in
the lake, Mr. Lyon.

I don't think we've officially announced
that yet.

Must have heard it on the exchange.

Good God, you don't think you can keep a
thing like that secret, surely?

Thank you, Mr. Lyon.

Good day.

He sounds quite unbearably vain, this
man Hastings.

How did he know about the clothes in the
lake?

In the city, they would know what we had
for breakfast if it was important to

the share prices.

Where does that leave us, then?

You think Davenheim's been kidnapped?

Where is the ransom note?

What a demand.

A murder, then?

Where is the cop?

And what sort of murder is it?

where the killer removes the clothes of
his victim and throws them into the

lake. Well, those two vagrants could
have attacked him, robbed him of his

clothes, then, panicking, in case the
clothes identified them as the man's

killer, tossed them into the water and
made a run for it.

Well, the boatman said he saw nothing.

Then he spent most of his time asleep
anyway.

Bravo, Hastings.

You begin to use your little grass
cells, huh?

Of course, your reasoning is fallacious
in every respect.

Your common sneak thieves are very
rarely the murderers, Hastings.

And unless also he is a member of the
Magic Circle and has constructed a

trapdoor somewhere in the lane, how has
he made the body

disappear?

And please,

Do not fraternize with that creature. I
am still training him.

It's only a parrot.

I was talking to the parrot.

Our money bag is

still missing it.

I think it's in Rio by now.

And you are certain that the lock, it
had been forced?

Nobody knows when.

Could have been like that since Friday.

Everything has gone, including the gems.

The gems?

All those expensive jewels he kept
bringing back.

Cleaned out the lot.

Ah, things are now moving in a very
definite direction.

You cannot fail to see the threat.

All the same, there are still certain
litmus tests to be carried out before we

can be absolutely sure.

Ah, ah, ah!

Where are you going?

Oui. Unless, of course, you've changed
your mind.

Certainly not. A wager is a wager.

Hastings, you are not busy this
afternoon?

Well... I want you to help me in a
little experiment.

I don't know why we're all standing
around here talking while he's out there

going scot -free.

Well, we have questions, Mr. Lone Maven,
but at the moment we don't actually

have any.

Would you mind awfully if I went to get
a glass of water? Oh, please, let... No,

no, no, no, I'll go myself.

The man was determined to ruin my
husband, we know that.

And he was on his own, right there in
the study for well over an hour.

We don't know for sure it was broken
into on Friday afternoon.

I locked it up myself, Chief Inspector,
just as Matthew was returning home.

We couldn't have been burgled since
then.

Just conducting a little experiment
that...

It's a wonder Jack didn't lock me up for
breaking and entering.

But he thinks you performed
magnificently.

I don't see what it proves.

Except that you need a strong hand to
get that thing open.

Lowen is exactly a weakling. Ah, our old
friend Monsieur Lowen, huh?

He has suffered so badly at the hands of
Monsieur Davenheim that he vows to

exact revenge on the demon banker.

So first he kills his adversary, and
then he turns up at the house in order

ransack the safe and make off with the
family jewels, huh?

What's the only explanation that fits?

Like the round hole into the square peg.

The opening of the safe door, Hastings.

How did he force open such a lock
without being overheard?

As you yourself so expertly
demonstrated.

It is quite impossible.

Well, you've only got three days to go.

This is quite tasty.

It's a recipe of my own hastings.

Nuthusks, birdseed and the ground
cuttlefish.

What do you think then?

Is Davenheim dead or what?

I think he seems that there is much more
to the disappearance of Monsieur

Davenheim than at first appears.

But you tell me, my ami, you are my eyes
and ears.

What is our next move?

and the final meeting of an exciting
season brings out the fastest of the

cars. With the biggest rules of the day
during the big race, the gold star

handicap over a distance of 20 miles.

A keen crowd of enthusiastic spectators
takes advantage of the unusually mild

autumn weather to rally at the famous
track.

The drivers go round and round and come
out here.

Or at least this one does.

At its speed, the crowd has come to see
and General Lowen, number three,

obliges.

He took that one a bit fine.

Lowen, cut up beer as Bugatti there on
the inside like nobody's business.

Man's certainly got a ruthless streak in
him, and no mistake.

Our ruthless remains to be seen.

We've had him under close surveillance
for four days now, hoping he might point

us towards a body.

All he's pointed us towards so far are
cartels and carburettors.

Blimey! Old shuttleware's got some juice
in that Alfa Romeo.

Must be averaging one -fourth, I think,
at least.

Right then.

thinking aloud.

Sergeant, cop it.

Billy Kellett, my God. Some people never
give up. Friend of yours, Sergeant? We

put him inside for three months. Same
game, lifting wallets in the crowd.

Looks like mine was the first of the
day.

Hello.

Well, now.

How very interesting.

What is it?

Hello?

Ah, Poirot.

Haven't caught you at a bad moment, I
hope.

Believe me, my dear Chief Inspector,
sir.

If you had caught me at a bad moment, I
should certainly have told you.

Just thought you'd like to hear the
news.

We found the signet ring of Matthew
Davenport.

Three months inside last time, not
enough for you.

Get homesick for prison, did we?

See the charming houseguests we get in
here?

They never learn, of course, this type.

Must have an happy time for prison food.

I'll ask you once more, Killett.

Where did you get this ring?

The wrong answer.

And your next port of call could be the
gallows, laddy.

Well... I was with me mate, Frankie.
Frankie Marchionneau.

And we was going down the racetrack.

Down from France.

You want to be careful on that flight,
mate?

I come back on my own about.

Seven o 'clock. I did a little bit of a
drink, you know.

So I sit down by the side of the road
for a little rest.

I was just about doors and off when I
heard this sound

of something dropping into the leaves by
the side.

the history?

What's the word?

Someone had thrown the ring over the
hedge. I looks up and sees this geezer

walking away.

Knobby gent with a light grey suit and a
poncy moustache.

So tell me, my dear Chief Inspector, do
you not find it the most remarkable

coincidence that the man who stole your
wallet should also turn out to

be the most important witness in the
case of Mr.

Dardenheim?

Rather an unfortunate coincidence from
his point of view.

Yes, but sometimes the most simple
coincidence is not all that he appears.

train of reasoning.

No.

Good.

And since there is at stake five pounds,
you would not wish me to elaborate

further.

And of course, he denies all knowledge.

Still, we're planning to test Kellett's
story with an identity parade.

It can't be ruled out that he's telling
the truth.

No, but I find it improbable that having
removed the ring

from off the finger of his victim,

M. Lawrence should suddenly decide to
toss it away into the ditch.

Of course, he... One had to ask her.

Why bother to remove the ring at all?

Valuable piece of merchandise.

Well, not easy to pawn, though, surely.
Far too easy to recognize.

Well, that's probably why I took it off.

What is it, Poirot?

Don't tell me you've sorted it all out.

Perhaps.

But first, I will need the answer to two
questions.

What was in the bathroom cabinet of
Bishop Davenheim on the day that he

disappeared?

And did he and his wife sleep together
or in their separate bed chambers?

A gentleman, be you madam.

I'm most dreadfully sorry to trouble you
again, Mrs. Davenheim.

Yes, Captain Hayden.

Good morning, Mr. Poirot.

That's a devil of a day out there.

I can hardly see your hand in front of
your face.

How true, Miss Lemon.

There are days when none of us can see
the hand in front of our face. When even

I, Hercule Poirot, cannot see what is
staring plainly at me between the eyes.

I think you've lost me again.

Mr. Perelman, Miss Lemon.

It is very easy to lose a person,
Madame.

Sometimes, because you do not know who
it is you are trying to find.

Analysis and synthesis, Miss Lemon.

There lies the key to the art of
deduction.

To strip apart the evidence, detail by
detail, with

various essentials, until miraculously
all the pieces fall into place

and we have the complete picture of
everything that happened.

Hastings, what news do you have for me?
The mystery it is told, yes?

You know, Poirot, I sometimes wonder if
you don't set me these little tasks just

to find out how much embarrassment I can
take in any one day.

The fact, Hastings, this is of critical
importance.

Charlotte and Matthew Davonhyde have
occupied separate bedrooms since the

spring. Ah, and it is now the middle of
October.

Bon. And the bathroom cabinet?

You sure you want to hear all this?

Hastings, do you think I play the games?

Two toothbrushes, one hairbrush, one pot
of skin cream, one bottle of liver

pills, one tube of toothpaste, one
shaving brush, one packet of razor

bottle of sleeping pills, one nasal
spray, one bottle of eye drops. Thank

Hastings. I have heard enough.

There's another two pages. Yes, sir. The
evidence, it is complete.

Now, Hastings, Miss Lemon, I trust you
have no monies deposited in the bank of

Davenheim and Summon?

None. None.

No, nor me. Why?

Because I should advise you to withdraw
it all, mon ami, before it is too late.

You think there's trouble looming? I
expect a big crash within the next few

days, Miss Lemon, perhaps sooner.

So, if you please, a note to the Chief
Inspector, Shep.

Advise you to withdraw any monies
deposited with the firm in question.

Still, he will not comprehend.

I'm not sure I comprehend.

Hastings, as I told you at the start,
once all the facts were placed before

me... the solution becomes inevitable.

All right.

How did you know?

Or are you going to tell me it was all
done with mirrors?

You will permit me, my dear Chief
Inspector, one moment longer of the

I have, as I promised, solved this
mystery without leaving my apartment.

Well, so you say, but I'm still pretty
much in the dark.

Very well.

I will simply draw your attention to
three details which, taken together, are

really... Quite conclusive.

One.

What is significant about the period of
time that Monsieur Davenheim spent

during the winter in Johannesburg?

Two.

Why had he and his wife not been
sleeping together in the same bedchamber

that moment on?

And three.

What was in the bathroom cabinet
belonging to Monsieur Davenheim which

never have been there?

I give up.

I give up.

Chief Inspector, this afternoon you are
staging the identity parade for the

scoundrel Kellett to point out Monsieur
Lohan.

I think you will find the results
really, yes, quite surprising.

You will not object if I leave the
confines of my apartment to witness the

conclusion of our wager.

your own time if you would now.

This is him.

He threw the ring into the ditch.

You filthy little liar!

You killed my life!

And now you're going to see it all!

You grubby, filthy little chick!

I'd say Lowen's as good as shopped
himself.

On the contrary, my dear Chief
Inspector.

A mere moment of the hot -headed rage.

Monsieur Gerard Lowen could not be more
innocent in his whole bizarre affair.

Couldn't he?

Well, perhaps it's about time you
explained to us what the hell is going

Mrs.

Charlotte Dudenheim, sir.

Monsieur Poirot.

Madame. I came as soon as I could.

If you've found anything out, then for
God's sake, please... Stop him!

Or are they callous? What's all this
about?

Or perhaps I should ask you that
question.

Mais certainement, my dear Chief
Inspector, I think that this charade has

gone on quite long enough.

Has it not?

Gentlemen, may I present to you the
missing merchant banker, Matthew

Damn you.

You Belgian.

I was intrigued by Monsieur Davenheim
buying of the priceless jury for his

For years, you see, he had been
embezzling vast sums of money from his

draining it to death, as we have seen,
and converting the spoils into the gems

which he stores in the safe.

So he'd always planned to obscure us,
right from the very start.

Having first very cleverly prearranged
with his hated -out rival in the city,

Monsieur Gerald Lowen, to be at his
house on that day.

So that he would become the chief
suspect in this unfortunate affair.

So Davenheim had already forced his own
safe open before he left the house that

day, using the good Monsieur Tchaikovsky
as his accomplice.

Cunningly, he uses the cannon fire in
the music to mask any sound that could

have allotted his wife.

Having made it look as if the safe has
been broken into, he steals his own

and jewels.

Because he believes he has found for
himself, until all has blown over, the

perfect place to hide.

In prison.

You see, during the winter, when he was
supposedly in Johannesburg, Monsieur

Davenheim was in fact creating the
character of Billy Kellett, spending the

three months in jail.

He returns to the racetrack to steal the
wallet, knowing he will be caught and

put once again behind bars. And no one
will suspect a thing.

Of course, he always meant for you to
find in his pocket the ring, so he could

use it to further incriminate Mr. Gerald
Owen.

And the contents of the bathroom
cabinet?

Razorblade fifties.

When resuming his identity, Mr.
Davenheim was forced to wear the false

to share the same bedchamber as his wife
would certainly lead to detection.

In fact, he was still shaving from time
to time in order to become Billy Gallant

again.

Just so no one can say I'm not a man to
honour my work.

Ah.

Mon pauvre chaperon.

Like robbing a baby.

However,

it is small remuneration for the seven
days in forced confinement to my own

home, having to listen to the non -stop
demented squawks and the screechings.

Mais, madame et monsieur, I want you to
observe something very closely.

Ah, well, at least it was worth a try.