All language subtitles for 01 A Pocket Full of Rye

Oh, Gladys.

How do I look, Miss Marple?

I so want to make an impression. I have
no doubt you'll do that.

Chalet maid, imagine.

Yes. And who knows where it might lead?

A stepping stone to stardom.

I read that in a magazine.

You mustn't believe everything he'll
read.

Now, you will be careful, won't you,
Gladys? Yes, Miss.

Especially of the young men.

Yes, Miss.

You've been ever so good to me, Miss
Marple. Now, now. You have, really.

God bless.

Good morning, Consolidated. In bed, Miss
Charles?

Of course.

Oh, no.

What was it this time, Tilly?

The Blue Shepardess, Miss Markle.

You'll see, Mr. Portkey.

You're a very, very bad boy.

Aren't I just?

I'm afraid that's quite impossible.

Mr. Fortescue's in conference.

We could try him after luncheon.

Well, good morning, and thank you for
calling Consolidated Investments.

Do you really think they'll like me?

Well, the old man certainly will.

He's very impressed, I hope to hear. The
aristocratic riffraff.

Pinstripes and Ebola.

It's not really me, is it? You look
utterly adorable.

Oh, thought of England.

Still, since the old man's come round,
we have to take advantage.

And then the next time we pass through
Paris, it'll be the Ritz.

It's strange, you know.

Even though Dad's always had it in for
me,

I'm still quite fond of the old
bathroom.

Mr.

Fortescue?

Are you Paulie?

How the hell did you put in there? Thank
you.

I didn't do it, Inspector.

I'm very pleased to hear that, Miss
Grover.

Do you always make Mr Fortescue's tea?

Always, Inspector.

He has a special pot and a special cup
and saucer. And I'm the only person

allowed to handle them.

And are you the only person allowed to
handle the kettle as well?

No. But I refilled it myself from the
cloakroom tap.

And what about the tea itself, Miss
Grover?

That's special too.

It's from China.

I understand this must be terribly
upsetting for you.

Thank you, Inspector.

Oh, dear.

He will be all right, won't he?

He's dead.

When? Five minutes ago.

Poor chap never stood a chance.

Sergeant Pickford's going through his
belongings now, speaking unofficially.

Poison? Well, of course it was poison.

But between you and me, and strictly off
the record, I'd be prepared to bet that

it was cat cream.

Never heard of it.

Quite. Most unusual.

You get it from yewberries.

Yewberries? From a yew tree.

Oh, that's interesting.

Is it?

Name of his house, Yew Tree Lodge.

That could explain it. Easy to harvest,
and more importantly, easy to

administer. Really? How? Well, the poor
fellow mentioned something about his

tea, but the stuff couldn't possibly
work that fast.

Only a cyanide would do that.

in which case he would have been dead
before the ambulance arrived.

So, tell me, Prof, how long does taxine
take to work?

An hour or two.

Maybe three if he'd had a big breakfast.

So if the taxine was administered at
breakfast, that lets Miss Grosvenor and

office staff off the hook.

One thing that's odd, sir. What's that,
Bigfoot?

The suit he was wearing. I checked
through his pockets.

One of them had cereal in it. Cereal?

Yes, sir. It's a bit peculiar, isn't it?

You mean like cornflakes?

No, sir. I mean like... Grain.

Rye, it looked like to me.

Inspector Neil, Sergeant Pickford.

I believe you're expecting us.

Inspector.

Mary Dove, housekeeper.

Do come in.

Adele is Mr Fortescue's second wife.

Considerably younger than him.

She was a manicurist from Brighton.

And, um, did they have children?

He had three from his first marriage.

Two sons and a daughter.

And are they married?

The sons, yes, not the daughters.

I'm afraid they're not here.

Adele's playing golf, but I'm not sure
where. I do happen to know who she's

playing with.

Her personal instructor, I should
imagine.

A gentleman by the name of Vivienne
Dubois.

And the children?

Percival's away on business.

The older son and a partner in the firm.
When did he go away? The day before

yesterday.

I have tried to contact him, but I
expect he'll be back by this evening.

He lives here with his wife, Jennifer.

Oh, where's she?

Up in town for the day.

And Elaine, the daughter, she's a
vegetarian.

She'll probably have her nose buried in
some dusty old tome. And what about the

other son?

Lancelot. He's in Kenya.

Oh, I see. With his wife, the widow of
Lord Anstead.

Oh, the racing chap. That's right.

The one who blew his brains out.

Why is he in Kenya? He moved there after
a disagreement with his father, some

small matter of a forged cheque, I
gather.

He's lived there for years. And have you
managed to contact him?

I'm afraid I haven't. I'm not having
much luck, am I?

Sadly not, Inspector.

So, Mr Ford accused death.

Case of food poisoning, was it?

That dining room has been just as it
should be. I only want a few samples

breakfast, Mrs Crump. Yeah, I'll give
you samples, shall I?

A bit of marmalade, some ham, coffee.

There's never been any bad food served
on my watch.

And as for the coffee, we finished that
off at elevensies. I don't see none of

us cropping like flies.

You lot come round here like you own the
place.

Apart from the Crumps, there's Gladys.

Gladys? What does Gladys do?

She's the parlour maid, and very nearly
half -witted.

So those are the only people living in
the house?

Yes.

You know, Inspector, I wouldn't be at
all surprised if Mr Fortescue hadn't

planning some sort of reconciliation
with Lancelot.

What makes you think that?

Well, Percival, you see, has always been
very much in his father's confidence,

but recently they haven't been getting
along so well.

His father had been doing things that
Percival, ever prudent when it comes to

money, thought unwise.

You appear most well informed, Miss
Duff.

Well, it's hardly a secret.

Always the same.

Stupid boy.

Ridiculous.

Ridiculous imagination.

That's your problem. We could lose
thousands.

All the business acumen of a chimpanzee.
Fatherless. My God, I wish Lance was

here. Lance. At least he's got guts.

Oh, thank you, Miss Duff. You've been
most helpful.

Oh, by the way, can you give me any idea
as to why Mr Fortescue would be

carrying grain in his pocket?

Grain, Inspector?

Does that suggest anything to you?

Nothing at all, I'm afraid.

Oh, well.

I didn't do it, you know.

But then I suppose everybody says that,
don't they?

I didn't do it, though. I didn't really.

You are allowed to sit down, Gladys.

I don't know anything about it, sir,
honest.

How long have you worked here, Gladys?

About four months, sir.

And before that?

I was a chalet maid at Tooley's Holiday
Camp.

Tooley's Holiday Camp?

Yes, sir, in Gravesend.

And how long were you at Tooley's
Holiday Camp?

Not very long, sir. Not very long at
all. Why was that?

Well, it... Mm -hm? I suppose I didn't
like it very much.

Sir, I suppose I'm more at home in
private service.

See, I used to work for a lovely old
lady.

Miss Marple, her name was.

She was ever so good to me.

Then why did you leave?

I wanted a change. I wanted to see the
world.

In Gravesend.

Did you used to look after Mr
Fortescue's clothes, Gladys?

Well, it's supposed to be Mr Crump's
job, but half the time he makes me do

Have you ever found any grain in his
pockets?

How do you mean, sir? Cereal.

Gladys, rye, to be exact.

Rye? Yes.

There was some found on his jacket
today.

Any idea how he might have got that?

I couldn't say, sir. I never saw any.

It's really true, then, is it?

He's really dead.

Dead as a dodo, Fred.

Dead?

Heavens above.

And my husband's away on business.

These things happen at the most
inconvenient moment, don't they?

His death was very sudden.

You mean he was murdered?

Now, why would you think that, madam?

Well, people are sometimes.

You said sudden. Aren't you a policeman?

Have you seen her about it? Her, madam?

His wife, Adele.

Awful creature.

I always told Percival his father was
crazy to go marrying a woman years

than himself, but as they say, there's
no fool like an old fool, and now look

what's happened.

What was it, last week? The cause of
death is yet to be ascertained.

But you know already, don't you? Your
tea is in the library, Mrs Fortescue.

Thank you, Miss Dove.

I'm panting for a cuppa.

Dead. I'm very sorry, Mrs Fortescue.

Poor Rex.

Was it a stroke?

No, it wasn't. Then what was it?

I'm afraid he might have been poisoned.

Poisoned? So it would seem.

Incredible. We need to find out exactly
what Mr Fortescue had to eat and drink

before leaving for the office this
morning. Oh, you mean food poisoning?

What did you think I meant, Mrs
Fortescue?

But the rest of it has been all right.

And you can speak for the whole family,
can you?

Well, no, of course I can't, but this
is... Such a dreadful shock.

Would you like a brandy? No, I don't
want a brandy. I want my Rex.

Poor Rexie.

Poor little Rex. Shh, there now. There,
there. I realise this must be very

distressing for you. Yes, it blatantly
well is.

You've got a lot of you round the house,
haven't you, Mrs Fortescue?

What, you mean me?

No, I mean you. I mean trees.

Bushes. That's probably why it's called
Yew Tree Lodge.

There's no possibility, I suppose, of
the berries or leaves getting mixed up

anything. Oh, Vivienne, I can't bear to
talk about this any longer. I want to

lie down. I'll tell you one more thing,
Mrs. Waterskew. Can't you see she's

upset? There was a quantity of grain in
your husband's pocket.

Any idea why it was there?

I don't know what you're talking about.

Oh, Vivienne.

I've got McDuff to help you upstairs.

Mr. Dubois. What?

Where can I get in touch with you should
I need to?

I'm resident at the Baden -Heath Golf
Hotel.

I have to excuse us.

Officiously.

Thank you.

Yes, yes, I have it.

Goodbye.

It's a telegram from Paris.

For Rex Fortescue.

So, the prodigal returns.

At last.

Sorry.

Where on earth have you been? I came
home as quickly as I could.

What a day.

Oh, you can say that again.

I feel quite under siege.

There seem to be horrid little
constables where everyone turns.

Yes, well, I suppose there would be,
wouldn't there?

It's too distressing.

Well, I'm sure you'll get over it.

Home wanted downstairs.

Oh, Christ!

Is it true?

What? That Father's dead.

Are you Elaine?

Ah, right.

Well, then, yes, I'm afraid it is true.

Poor Daddy.

He was such a ghastly man.

And his death makes everything all
right.

Now I can do everything I ever wanted.

I must find Gerald.

Oh, I didn't.

It would seem so, yes.

Well, have you any idea how... Who might
have rather... Early days for that,

sir. Yes, I suppose so.

All the same, it would be most helpful
if you could give me any idea of your

father's testamentary dispositions.

Yes, well, my father made a new will on
the occasion of his marriage two years

ago. He left £100 ,000 to his wife and
£50 ,000 to my sister, Elaine.

I am his residuary legatee and am, of
course, already a partner in the firm.

And your brother received no bequest?

There is an estrangement of long
-standing between him and my father.

So, as the will stands, the three people
who gain are Mrs Fortescue, your

sister, and yourself.

Well, I don't think I'd be much of a
gainer with death duties, and, uh...

my father has of late been, um... How
shall I put it? Highly injudicious in

financial dealings.

You haven't seen eye to eye with him
recently.

Well, I put forth my point of view.
Rather forcibly, I gather.

In fact, didn't you have quite a row
about it?

I'd hardly say that.

Can you tell me what this means, Mr.
Corson?

A telegram from your brother, saying
he's arriving tomorrow at your father's

invitation.

I don't understand.

Didn't your father mention it? No, he
most certainly did not. Why would he

done such a thing? Because he's
completely crazy.

What's completely crazy?

You never know what's around the corner,
do you, Inspector?

Goodbye. Thank you.

Thank you.

Goodbye.

Mr. Wolf, thank you so much. Goodbye.

The quantity of grain believed to be rye
was found in one of his pockets.

Now that is interesting.

Fantastic.

It's quite fantastic.

It's one thing to hear your father's
dead, but then to hear that he's been

poisoned... I don't suppose you happen
to know who might have done it.

Well, how would I? I've lived abroad for
years.

I understand from your brother there had
been an estrangement between you and

your father. Yes, that's right.

So I'm wondering, sir, what brought you
back?

Well, I got a letter from my father
about six months ago now, hinting that

like to let bygones be bygones. He
suggested that I come home and join the

So I came over last August to see him,
and he made me, I must say, a very

advantageous offer, and I flew back to
Kenya, talked to him with Pat, and,

the upshot was that I decided to accept.

Your coming back was quite a surprise
for your brother.

Oh, yeah, I don't think Percy knew a
thing about it. He was on holiday when I

popped back.

If you ask me, the old man planned it
very carefully. You see, he and Percy

had a blazing row about what, I have no
idea, but Dad was furious.

And how long were you back for?

Only an hour or two at the house.

The whole idea, I'm sure, was a kind of
secret offensive behind Percy's back.

I don't think Dad even wanted the
servants to know about it.

Did you encounter any other members of
your family?

My stepmother.

She and the old man were the only people
I saw.

And that was the first time you'd met
her?

Yes, it was.

I must say, the old boy certainly knew
how to pick them.

Do you resent your father remarrying?

No, why should I? My mother died when I
was 11. In fact, I was surprised he took

so long to get hitched again.

It's rather a risk, sir, don't you
think, of marrying a woman much younger

yourself? You sound like my brother,
Inspector.

So, my stepmother is the prime suspect,
is she?

Oh, early days, sir. Early days.

Oh, well. I suppose I'd better get down,
then.

Now, I want you to stay up in town for
now.

No, darling, I want to come with you.
No, I'd really rather you didn't.

I don't know what kind of welcome I'm
going to get.

And anyway, I don't want you in a house
where there's a poisoner at large.

Hey, Inspector.

Yes? Vivian?

I told you.

Oh, at last.

Where are you speaking from?

The house.

Are the police still around?

No, they've gone for the moment.

Vivian, it's been awful.

Listen, we've got to be careful.

Of course, darling.

Don't call me darling.

Vivian! You mustn't phone me. It isn't
safe.

Just for the moment, all right?

All right.

I tell those letters I wrote you, you
did burn them, didn't you?

You did, didn't you? Of course I did.

Honestly, Vivian.

You still there?

Have you served tea yet, Gladys?

It's not half past four yet, miss.

It's 20 minutes to buy, Gladys.

Who wrote that on the telephone? Wrong
number, miss.

Where in heaven's name are you being?

Sorry, Mrs Crump. That bell's been
ringing like the snow tomorrow night.

that seat, sir.

Good girl.

Crump's not going to know what's hitting
when he gets back.

I've taken the day off with Mr
Lancelot's coming home.

Far too much to do without going off and
getting a bath.

Where is everybody this afternoon?

Miss Waterskew came in some time ago,
and I think Mrs Percival's writing

letters. That woman never stops writing
letters.

I'll tell her he is ready.

Gosh, it's freezing.

Oh, I didn't realise you'd been out.
Yeah?

I was just in the garden getting a
breath of air, but... Too cold.

Tea is served.

Aren't we ever going to have anything to
eat?

Yes, of course.

Mr Lancelot? Your luggage?

It's all right. I've paid off the taxi.

Oh, I thought perhaps you'd walked.

Is your wife not with you? No, no.

Now, listen here, Gladys, I says to her.
You'll have to manage alone tonight.

And she says, yes, Mrs Crump, good as
gold.

Then the minute my back's turned, out
she slips, without a whisper.

We'll manage.

What, you're going to wait at table?

If she doesn't come back?

Of course she won't be back.

She's out gallivanting.

She's got a young man now, miss.

You wouldn't think it to look at her.

Oh.

It was very good to see you. Little
Ellie.

Poor Daddy.

Yes, I know, I know.

I'm Jennifer.

How do you do?

Percival's in town, I'm afraid.

He's having to deal with everything, as
usual.

You've no idea what we're all going
through.

Of course.

You don't know Adele, do you?

Oh, yes, I do.

Sit down next to me, Lance.

I'm so glad you're here. We could do
with another man about the house.

Oh, it's been awful.

Just awful. The place has been swarming
with police.

They met me at the airport.

What did they say?

They told me what had happened.

Look, they think it's been poisoned.

Not food poisoning.

Real poison.

And I'm convinced they think it's one of
us.

What a spread.

It's a while since I've got my teeth
into a good old English tea.

Where's your wife?

She's in London.

You haven't brought her with you?

No, Pat's all right, but she is for now.

You're not thinking... What a scrummy
-looking chocolate cake.

Old Mrs Crump knows her way to a chap's
heart, that's for sure.

Who's the woman who let me in?

Wasn't it Crump?

It's his day off.

Then why didn't Gladys let you in? Brown
eyes, soft voice, butter wouldn't melt.

That'd be Mary Dove.

Sort of run things for us.

Does she now?

Should I

switch the lights

on? Thank you.

It gets dark so early, doesn't it?

Tell them you'll be in tomorrow.

The day after.

Next week.

You're your own boss now. I have things
to do.

Things to do?

There are always things to do.

What about me?

I'm sure you'll find something. You
usually do.

I shan't be late.

And then what if you come back and find
me choking to death with a peg on my

nose? I doubt there's much chance of
that.

What are you up to?

Well, just making sure there aren't any
of those irritating little flecks

lurking around, sir.

Now, you're the master, sir. We've got
to make sure you're spitting and

with...

The

mistress of the house, please.

Yes? There's an old woman asking to see
the mistress, ma 'am.

Oh, too bad.

I'm going out.

Very good, ma 'am.

Why don't you tell Mrs. Lance a lot to
deal with her?

Now she's deigned to join us, she might
as well make herself useful.

It's very simple, really. I'm here
because of Gladys Martin.

I knew her, you see, and...

When I read this about the terrible
thing that's happened to her, I felt I

to see if there was anything I could do.

Yes, of course. Nobody seems to know
very much about her, and I doubt I can

of much help.

My husband and I have only recently
returned from Africa, and I've just come

down from London.

Much to his regard.

This Gladys, did she have any relations,
do you know?

No, she didn't. She came to me from the
orphanage, and I trained her for

domestic service.

She was only 17.

Dear me, so young.

Was she a pretty girl?

Oh, no, not at all.

And rather stupid, too, but I was fond
of her.

Maybe even a little sorry for her.

One doesn't really know what to do with
the gladiators of this world.

Oh, God, that she should have been
caught up in all of this.

It was the clothes peg that worried me.

It's mentioned in the article.

Such a contemptuous gesture.

It gave me a kind of picture of the
murderer.

To do a thing like that is really very
wicked indeed.

And so pointless, with no rhyme or
reason.

Oh, no, my dear.

I wouldn't say that.

She was a very silly girl.

Credulous, the sort who'd give her
savings to a swindler.

Not that she ever had any, because she
always spent them on the most unsuitable

clothes. What about men, Miss Marple?
Oh, she badly wanted one of those.

Well, it seems she got one in the end.
Did she, Inspector?

At the holiday camp.

Albert Evans, his name was.

A mining engineer, so she told the cook.

Oh, dear. Well, she'd believe anything.

You don't connect him with this
business, do you, Inspector?

No, I don't think so.

He sent her the odd postcard, but he
never visited her.

Oh, well, I'm glad she had a taste of
romance.

In the nick of time, as it turns out.

You know, you've a look of the young
Errol Flynn about you.

Oh, do you think so?

Yes, I do.

I'm staying at the Baden Heath Golf
Hotel for a day or two.

I wonder, Inspector, would it be a
presumption if I were to offer

some very humble way? You strike me as a
most intelligent and, if I may say so,

impressive young man, but three murders
in two days, well, that's enough to

challenge the strongest metal.

And people do tend to confide in old
ladies.

Don't you find?

Rex Fortescue died of taxine poisoning.

Taxine? You got it from yew trees.

Oh, I know that, Inspector. I was just
thinking how very convenient.

And Mrs. Fortescue?

Potassium cyanide.

She was having tea in the sitting room
with the family.

The last person to leave was her
stepdaughter, Elaine.

And some 20 minutes after that, Miss
Dove, the housekeeper, found her dead.

Had Mrs. Fortescue been eating anything?

They'd had a sumptuous tea.

Cake, I suppose, and scones, perhaps.

And butter and jam, and...

Honey? Yes, all of these things and
more, but the poison was in her tea. I

just trying to get the whole picture, so
to speak.

And poor Gladys?

She'd taken the first tea tray into the
sitting room and then left the second

tray in the hall.

After that, no -one saw her. The cook,
Mrs Crump, thought she'd gone out for

evening because she was wearing her best
nylons and shoes.

Sadly, that wasn't the case.

Poor girl had obviously removed some
washing on the line, gone out to fetch

in when someone took her unawares.

Someone from outside?

Or inside.

But somebody who wanted to get her
alone.

It does all make a pattern, don't you
think, Inspector?

Does it?

Well, first we have Mr Fortescue, Rex
Fortescue, killed in his office in the

city. Then we have Mrs Fortescue, eating
scones and honey.

Then we have poor Gladys with a clothes
peg on her nose.

It does all seem to fit, doesn't it?

I'm not quite there yet, Miss Marble.
The papers were right, weren't they,

what you found in Mr Fortescue's pocket?

It was rye.

Yes, it was.

There you are, you see.

Mrs Lance Fortescue.

What a charming woman. She said to me
that there didn't seem to be any rhyme

reason. But it's surely the rhyme that
strikes one.

Is it? You haven't, by any chance, gone
into the question of blackbirds?

It is a peanut, but what does she like?

She didn't have much up here at all.

Well, she didn't have much anywhere,
really, but...

To go like that, that stocking round her
neck, the peck on her nose.

Why would anyone do such a wicked thing?

Oh, that girl knew something, Miss
Marple.

The day the master was killed, she was
twitching and jumping like a rabbit.

Oh, what's got into you today?

Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs Crump.

Anyone would think you had a guilty
conscience.

Oh, don't say that, Mrs Crump. Have you,
Gladys?

Have you got a guilty conscience?

I don't know nothing, Mrs. Crump. But if
you do, you should go straight to the

police. I couldn't, Mrs. Crump. You
speak the truth and shame the devil.

In any way, they'd never believe me.

Wouldn't believe what, Gladys?

Nothing, Mrs. Crump. I don't know
nothing at all.

She must have seen or heard something.

Oh, without a doubt, Mrs. Crump.

I wonder what.

Because I've never taken to that wife of
Mr Percival.

Haven't you, Mrs Robb? No, not ever.

She looks down her nose when she's no
right to.

Of course, you know, she used to be a
nurse. And nurses are used to

handling drugs, aren't they?

And poisons.

So, you think that Gladys may have
unwittingly...

Sir. Sir.

I don't think there's trouble, sir.

Good work, Pickford.

So, someone would have got hold of this
new pot of marmalade, spooned a bit off

the top, mixed it with the taxi, and
then put the poison mixture back in to

it look like a virgin pot.

Is Rex Fortescue the only one to have
marmalade with his breakfast?

Yes, sir.

That makes it very simple then, doesn't
it, Pickford?

No need to worry about putting in his
coffee.

And the contaminated pot would have been
replaced by another with exactly the

same amount put back in before being
thrown into the strawberry.

All we have to do now is find out who
threw it.

six birds, a pocket full of rice,

four and twenty blackbirds baked in a
pie.

When the pie was opened, the birds began
to sing.

Wasn't that a dainty dish to set before
the king? Yes, I like that

nursery rhyme too, Mr. Crump.

What a very trying time we must all have
had.

I'm off. And enough.

I can't stomach that personful.

Will Mrs. Crump be leaving too?

She's got a sense she will. There's
something funny going on here.

When the master got mixed up with,
what's his name?

And the blackbird.

The blackbird, Mr. Crump? And what's his
name?

What's his name?

You know, what's his name?

What is his name, Mr. Crump? The king
was in the counting house, counting

out his money.

The queen was in the parlor, eating
bread and honey.

The maid was in the garden.

Murder, she said.

Who said?

Vicky's water's name.

It went to... Where was it? Oh,
Pinewood, that's it.

Pinewood, Mr Crump?

Who the hell are you?

Marple, Jane Marple.

Oh, bottoms up, miss.

Oh, dear.

Pack up all my care and

woe. Here I go.

Singing below.

Bye -bye, Blackbird.

Where's somebody who waits for me?

Should I tell you?

Mrs. Fortescue.

Oh, Miss Marple.

What a surprise.

Oh, let me introduce you. This is my
husband, Lancelot. Lancelot, this is

Marple. How do you do? My sincere
condolences. Thank you.

Miss Marple knew Gladys.

Gladys? The parlour maid with the peg on
her nose. Oh, Gladys. Poor thing.

Yes. There now seems little doubt that
she saw or heard something.

Oh, really?

Yes. She said as much to Mrs. Crump. But
the question is, what?

You sound like a professional, Miss
Marple. Oh, no, Mr.

Fortescue. My interest is purely
personal. I was very fond of Gladys, you

I must say Inspector Neil has been most
sympathetic.

I do love gardens, don't you?

Yes, I do.

I have to admit they're rather a passion
of mine.

Then, of course, there's this whole
business of blackbirds.

Blackbirds? Yes, Mr.

Fortescue. They came up in a little chat
I just had with Mr. Crump.

He mentioned, or should I say it, if I
remember correctly, the phrase he used

was the blackbird.

So strange, don't you think?

Good Lord, I bet he's referring to the
old blackbird mine.

What was that, Mr Fortescue? Some
transaction my father was involved in

ago now with a chap called Mackenzie, a
mine on the west coast of Africa.

Mackenzie died out there of a fever and
his wife had other ideas and she came

round here with her two kids and caused
a terrific stink.

I wonder what happened to Mrs Mackenzie
and those kids.

They must be grown up by now.

As far as we know, you were the last
person to see Adele Fortescue alive.

The last but one, Inspector?

Yes.

So it was about twenty past five when
you left the room, is that right?

About then.

I can't say exactly.

And when you and Mrs Fortescue were
alone, what did you talk about?

We talked about Gerald.

Gerald arrived today.

He's checked in at the hotel.

I wouldn't have thought that was his
style at all.

What's that supposed to mean?

Mixing with the money.

I thought it'd be against his
principles.

Well, at least he has some.

I'm surprised his teacher's salary's
restricted that far.

Which is one of the reasons I'm thinking
of asking him to stay here.

You wouldn't mind, would you?

It's all the same to me.

I'd have thought you could do a lot
better for yourself now.

How do you mean?

Well, with your poor father gone, what
with the will and that, you're suddenly

bit of a catch.

You'll have the young men swarming like
bees round a honeypot.

They won't mind what you look like any
more.

So you and Gerald Ride, are you
courting?

Courting? How frightfully old
-fashioned.

But then you're such a gent, aren't you,
Inspector?

Yes. Gerald and I are now planning to
get married.

Now? Now Daddy's dead.

He was very hurtful to Gerald.

In fact, Gerald was so upset that I
didn't hear from him for a week. And now

he's back again.

I wired him when Father died.

And what did you do after leaving Mrs
Fortescue?

I went for a walk.

Short walk. To the Baden -Heath Golf
Hotel?

Yes.

But Gerald wasn't in.

Is that all, Inspector?

You can't tell me anything about
blackbirds, can you?

The ones in Daddy's pie?

When was this?

Three or four months ago.

He was furious.

Do you know who put them there?

I haven't the faintest idea.

Now, if you'll excuse me. Oh, one more
thing, Miss Fortescue.

Did your stepmother make a will people
usually do don't they have you No

So, it was 20 to 5?

Yes.

We have been over this before,
Inspector.

Precision is all, Miss Duff.

And you were coming from...? Upstairs.

I thought I'd heard the telephone a few
minutes before.

Is that tea yet, Gladys? It's not hot
for school yet, Miss. It's 20 minutes to

5, Gladys. Who was that on the
telephone?

Wrong number, Miss.

Where's tea?

It's just coming, Miss. She brought the
first tea tray into the sitting room

about 10 minutes later.

And that was the last time you saw her?

Yes. At last.

Then Miss Fortescue came in some minutes
later.

Gosh, it's freezing.

I was going to tell Mrs Percival that
tea was ready.

I thought I heard her coming, but that
was a mistake.

You heard someone moving about upstairs?

Yes, at the head of the stairs, I
thought.

But then no one came down, so I went up.

Oh, I didn't realise you'd been out.

Tea's served.

And that was?

Nearly five, I think.

And when did Lancelot arrive?

A few minutes after I came downstairs
again.

I thought he'd arrived earlier, but...
Why did you think that?

Because I thought I'd caught sight of
him through the landing window.

In the garden? Yes.

After telling Jennifer Fortescue that he
was ready?

No, not then.

It was earlier, when I came down the
first time.

Are you sure about that, Miss Dunn?

Perfectly. That's why I was surprised
when he actually did ring the doorbell.

Mr Lancelot?

No. Then it couldn't have been him that
you saw in the garden.

His train was due at 4 .40.

So the earliest he could have gone here
would have been just before 5.

But I'm sure I saw someone.

Yes, but not clearly.

It was getting dark by then.

I didn't see his face, but he was a
tall, slender man.

I simply presumed it was him. Where was
he going?

Behind the hedge towards the east side
of the house.

And is there a side door there?

Yes. So someone could have got in
unobserved.

You mean the person I heard upstairs?

Something like that.

So who was it?

That remains to be seen.

By the way, you couldn't tell me
anything about blackbirds, I suppose.

I'm sorry?

Blackbird.

Do you mean... Blackbirds and stuff.

Are you referring to that silly business
last summer?

Yes.

It was just a ridiculous, spiteful joke.

Four dead blackbirds were left in Mr.
Fortescue's desk in his study here.

Why would anyone do a thing like that?

I really don't know, Inspector.

Dear Gladys, lots of nice -looking girls
here, but not one that's a patch on

you. Be seeing you soon. Don't forget
our date. And then it's happy ever

Love, Bert.

Can I help you?

Three murders in two days.

How very upsetting.

That's not been too pleasant.

Have you any idea who could do something
like that?

Hard to say.

The whole household, you see, is really
quite odious.

You feel no especial loyalty to your
employers then, mister?

It's a job, Miss Marple.

And one I do to the best of my ability.

People will pay anything.

Anything to be spared domestic worries.

I'm sure Mrs Fortescue found you
invaluable.

If he said manicurist, what on earth
would she know?

She was younger than Mr Fortescue, I
understand.

By some 30 years.

Percival and Elaine were simply livid
about it.

And Percival especially couldn't bear
the thought.

that you might get her hands, however
well manicured, on his father's money.

Economy, you see, is Percival's passion.

His only passion, in fact.

Well, it's hardly surprising when you
look at his wife.

How did he meet her?

She nursed him through pneumonia.

Oh.

You're probably fonder of his sister.

What, Elaine?

It's hard to be fond of Elaine.

She's very bookish and rather plain.

Perhaps she might benefit from a shot of
this.

Does she have a young man?

She was having some sort of dalliance
with the schoolmaster.

But her father discovered he had
communistic tendencies and soon put a

it. She didn't stand up to him.

Oh, she would have done.

But her red lover's ardour cooled when
he realised there'd be no money in it.

Now the old man's out of the way,
however, the passion is rekindled.

I believe he arrived at the Gulf Hotel
the day after Mr Fortescue's death.

The day after?

So, Miss Waters, you said.

But then words come cheap, don't they,
Miss Marple?

Dear me, Miss Dove, your cynicism belies
your years.

Take no notice of me.

I'm a malicious creature.

Better watch out, Crump.

She's on to you.

You came down to tea rather late at the
time.

I had been writing letters and lost
track of time.

Miss Dove said you'd been out for a
walk.

Did she?

Oh. Well, now I come to think of it,
yes.

I had been writing letters, but went out
for a breath of air.

Chocolate?

No, thank you.

Meet anyone?

No. Um, no.

Your husband hadn't come home yet? Oh,
no.

Percy didn't get back until about seven.

By train?

Yeah.

Do you know if Adele Fortescue made a
will?

Oh, yes, she did.

But do you know when?

About a month ago.

Percy knew nothing about it. In fact,
nobody did.

I just happened to bump into her on the
high street outside the Lister's.

She said she had no intention of using
the family's Lister because she didn't

want everyone to know no business.

I didn't particularly care for her.

Rather common, I thought.

But now she's dead, well... It's all
very dreadful, isn't it?

Do you know anything about Blackbird,
Mrs Fortescue?

Thank you. Thank you.

Do you, Mrs Fortescue?

Blackbird's inspector?

What kind of blackbirds? The usual, I
suppose. Ones that flutter around and

twitter away.

Or lie stone -cold dead.

Ring any bells?

Perhaps you're referring to the ones in
the pie.

Or the ones in Mr Fortescue's study.

A little prank, that's all it was.

I was furious.

He thought there might be strangers
about.

Strangers? That's what he said.

Did that seem to unnerve him?

Oh, it did rather.

Of course, I don't remember very well.
It was several months ago.

Actually, would you mind if I forced
you?

I'm rather partial to the nutty ones.

When Rex Fortescue died, his wife
inherited £100 ,000, a sum

the firm could ill afford.

So Mr Fortescue didn't leave the
business in a healthy state?

Between ourselves, Inspector, it's
heading straight for the rocks and has

for the last 18 months.

Any particular reason?

Because he was behaving like a lunatic,
selling good stock here, buying

speculative stuff there. He just
wouldn't listen to reason.

He was driving Percival up the wall.

In fact, he was desperate for him to see
a doctor, but Fortescue wouldn't hear

of it.

I don't need a bloody doctor.

Then maybe you need a bit of a break. A
bit of a break?

I don't need a bloody break.

I don't need you treating me like a
bloody moron.

That's what's suspected, you see, that
his father was suffering from a form of

dementia.

Pick's disease, he called it.

I think his grandfather suffered from
something similar.

I'd say it was a bit of luck all round
that the old chap kicked the bucket when

he did.

Three murders.

Extraordinary. So, Adele thought you did
have something to leave.

Oh, no, Inspector.

There was a clause in the will saying
that she'd only inherit if she survived

her husband by one month, which,
tragically, she didn't. Why the clause?

It's fairly common nowadays with the
increase in air travel.

Two people are killed in a plane crash.
It becomes exceedingly difficult to find

out who was the survivor.

Follow my drift?

Yes.

So tell me, what happens to the money?

It goes back to the residuary legatee.

Percival Fortescue.

Good evening to the right. Good evening.

Ah, Pinewood.

I expect you'll miss her very much.

Yes, you're a good friend.

She phoned you, I believe, on the
afternoon of her death.

If you say so, Inspector.

What did you talk about?

Nothing very important, I'm sure. And
then you went for a walk? No.

I played a few holes of golf.

I don't think you did, Mr Dubois,
because the hotel porter noticed you

down the road towards Utrecht Lodge.

And if you already know, why do you ask?

Did you see Mrs Fortescue?

I didn't go near the house.

I think you'd better make a statement,
Mr Dubois.

Of course, you'll be quite within your
rights to have a stress at the present.

Are you threatening me?

No, Mr Dubois.

We're not allowed to do that sort of
thing.

I had nothing to do with it. Then why
were you seen outside the house at about

half past four?

I didn't go inside.

Are you sure, though?

You didn't go in through the side door
and up to Mrs. Watersview's sitting?

And are you sure you weren't looking for
something in her desk?

You've got them, haven't you?

Strictly speaking, no.

Your letters to Mrs. Fortescue were
taken from her bureau by my sergeant and

passed on to the yard for possible
evidence.

I told her to burn them.

You were good friends, as you say.

Very, very good friends.

Well, that doesn't mean we bumped off
Rex.

Not necessarily, but it might suggest
that you encouraged her or provided her

with a motive.

She can't make a case against me.

She made a will, you know.

Left everything to you. I don't want her
money. Just as well, because there

isn't much.

But I thought her husband had left her
with... Did you now?

I was wondering if you knew.

Yes, according to her solicitor, she
didn't have much to leave, but since her

husband's death... That's all changed,
hasn't it, Mr Dubois?

I do.

Thank you.

I was in the Isle of Man when Rex
Fortescue was killed.

Such a terrible tragedy.

Yes. And you arrived shortly afterwards.

Elaine sent for me. No doubt in need of
a comforting shoulder to cry on.

I suppose so.

You were engaged, weren't you, Mr
Wright?

Yes, we were.

You would appear to be well suited.

Her father didn't think so.

He threatened to disinherit her if the
marriage went ahead.

So I naturally broke off the engagement.

Oh, how very selfless.

I was victimised for my political
opinions, Miss Marple.

Oh, dear.

Still, every cloud, as they say.

What do you mean?

Well, surely the marriage can now go
ahead with the inheritance still intact.

The money, Miss Marple, will be used for
the benefit of the community.

Oh, admirable, Mr Wright, quite
admirable.

Tell me...

Did you see or hear anything when you
were in the vicinity of Yew Tree Lodge

that afternoon?

What makes you think I was in the
vicinity?

Because I thought you left the hotel at
quarter past four and walked in that

direction.

The hotel receptionist just happened to
mention it. I was going to go to the

house, but I just went for a stroll
instead.

Now that is strange.

Is it?

Yes, because someone said they'd seen
you in the garden at Yew Tree Lodge at

about half past four.

Visibility must have been very bad by
then.

Are you acquainted with Vivien Dubois?

Why do you ask?

Because he was also out for a stroll
that afternoon.

I must say, you must all have been
feeling very energetic.

They come and they go, and they don't
tell us anything.

One presumes they're pursuing some line
of inquiry.

They're inconsiderate.

Pass the marmalade, there's the honey.

So, Elaine, I gather you're going to
marry... What's his name?

Gerald.

Gerald. Yeah, Gerald.

And then what?

We plan to start a school.

You mean you plan to take all your money
out of the business?

Better than leaving it in.

You said yourself that things were in a
pretty bad state.

But you could lose the lot.

We won't. I'm with you, Ellie.

What are your plans, Lance? I'll be back
in a minute.

Mum.

I'm not so sure about that.

Well, you never had much time for poor
little England.

But one changes as one gets older, don't
you find?

And having given it a lot of thought and
chatted over with Pat... Well, the long

and short of it is, old chap, I've
decided to join the firm.

As your junior partner, of course. But I
have got a holding in it, and that

gives me rights to be in on things,
doesn't it?

Well, yes, if you put it like that.

Bloody good idea, don't you think?

You'd be pleased. But won't you find it
rather boring after your outdoor life,

safari and things?

Well, frankly, once you've seen one
elephant... Things are very bad, you

It'll be all we can do to scrape
together a lane, sir.

Hear that, Annie?

Grab it while you can.

You've no idea what a time of it
Percival's had while you've been gadding

with the natives.

He's been ill with worry, and now you
come back here, smug as you like.

Jennifer, please. Well, it's too bad.

It's really too bad.

It won't work.

It's as simple as that.

I know you too well, Lance. You'll be
fed up in no time. When I say things are

bad, believe me, I'm not exaggerating.
This past year, Dad has thrown money

away, hand over fist.

That's just as well that someone slipped
the taxi in his tea.

Well, if I'm honest, his death's about
the only thing that's saved us from

bankruptcy. Look, Lance, I'm fond of you
and all that. Are you?

I really don't think we're going to pull
together. Really, I don't. The only

sensible thing is to dissolve the
partnership.

You mean buy me out?

There's no alternative.

And how will you manage to pay me my
share?

We'll divide the holdings. With you
keeping all the giltage and me taking

worst of the speculative, I suppose.

Some of them may prove to be immensely
valuable.

Like the old Blackbird gold mine, for
instance.

No, perhaps not that.

Arthur was pretty certain it was
worthless.

You went out there with a chap called
Mackenzie, didn't you? He died out

Yes, I think he did.

His wife came round here with her two
kids and accused Dad of murder.

Really can't remember.

I do.

I remember it quite well.

It's very kind of you to see me, Mrs.
McKenzie.

I believe you knew Rex Fortescue.

He died recently, as you're probably
aware.

I believe you once paid him a visit.

He'd been connected with your husband,
had he not, over a certain mine in

Africa. The Blackbird Mine, Mrs.
McKenzie.

Your husband and Mr.

Fortescue went out to survey it, I
believe.

And didn't your husband die out there of
fever?

You believe an awful lot, don't you?

Then believe this.

It was my husband's mine.

He found it and laid claim to it and
went to Rex Fortescue for the money to

capitalize it.

Nobody knows how he died or where he was
buried.

All anyone knows is what Rex Fortescue
said.

And Rex Fortescue was a liar.

Do you believe he was responsible for
your husband's death?

How stupid you are.

I dare say I am, Mrs. Mackenzie, but it
all happened so long ago.

And it's not over yet.

Isn't it?

Nothing is ever settled until it is
settled right.

I hear somebody put dead blackbirds in
Rex Fortescue's desk.

Have you any idea who might have done
that?

Nine and seven they were when he died.

Your children?

Donald and Ruby.

I told them every day and made them
swear it every night.

What did you make them swear?

That they'd kill him, of course.

And did they, Mrs Mackenzie?

My son died at Dunkirk.

Deeply regret, killed in action.

I'm so sorry.

And your daughter?

I have no daughter.

But you just spoke of her.

She didn't keep faith.

Where is she now?

I told you.

I have no daughter.

You mean she's dead?

It would be better for her if she were.

Do any of her relations ever visit her?

Well, I gather her daughter came once,
but it was before my time.

It agitated poor Mrs Mackenzie so much
that she was advised not to come again.

And I suppose you've no idea where she
is now? I'm afraid I haven't.

Oh, it's so kind of you to come, Miss
Marple.

I'm sure it did her the world of good to
see an old neighbour.

Did she remember you?

Do you know, I don't think she had a
clue who I was.

Oh, and another thing. You're certainly
right about a pattern.

Blackbirds tying in with a mine, the
Ryan Fortescue's pocket, bread and honey

for tea, and the third murder, Gladys
strangled with a peg on her nose.

What you just said... What is it, Miss
Martin?

There's something wrong.

You know it is, don't you?

No. No, I don't.

It worries me to death having you here.
I wish you'd go back to London.

I'm not going anywhere.

Not that we're awfully welcome with
Percival in charge.

We'll just have to put up with this for
now.

I want to see him suffer a bit longer.

I do think it's very important to

use one's time constructively. Don't you
agree, Miss Marple?

I've gone each day alone with no
congenial company at all, but at least I

an effort.

I have to admit...

People around here aren't really my
kind.

Flashy lot.

And even, dare I say, rather common.

Of course, Adele fitted him perfectly.

My father -in -law made a very foolish
second marriage.

Now, I wouldn't wish to speak ill of the
dead.

She was man -mad. Oh, dear.

Spent money like water. And he let her
get away with everything.

It vexed Percy very much indeed.

He's always been so very...

Careful with money, you see.

And then when his father began behaving
so badly... It must have been a great

worry. Oh, it was.

This last year, Percy's been beside
himself.

You will stay for dinner, won't you?

Oh, well... And then there's Elaine.

Very odd.

She doesn't want to shop or go to a
matinee or anything.

Too bookish for a young lady, in my
opinion.

Must think me very queer going on to you
like this.

Oh, no.

Except with all the strain and shock, I
do feel very nervous.

There was a time when we all dressed for

dinner. Well, times are changing,
Percival.

For better or worse, I wonder.

For better, of course, aren't they,
Gerald?

Without a doubt.

A filthy night.

I really don't know what Miss Marple
must think.

We used to be such a happy family.

Are you enjoying this part of the world,
Miss Marple?

Well, out of the circumstances, Mr
Fortescue.

Where's Pat?

You know, Miss Marple, I don't believe
this was ever a happy house, that anyone

was ever happy in it. I can't wait to
leave.

You've had your share of unhappiness,
too.

I've had some good times as well.

But when the war came... Your husband
was shot down, wasn't he?

We'd only been married a month.

I thought at first I wanted to die, too,
but then began to think that perhaps it

was for the best.

Why was that?

I don't think peace would have suited
him.

He found insubordination quite
irresistible. A fight until the end I

think he'd ever have fitted in.

And your second husband?

He shot himself.

Oh, dear.

Poor Freddy.

We were madly in love, but... I began to
realize that he wasn't... Well, he

wasn't always straight.

He tried to turn a blind eye, but... You
can't change people, can you, Miss

Marple? No, my dear.

Lance thinks it's someone in the family,
and I think he's right. That's why

there's always such an atmosphere.
Everybody watching everybody else.

Something's got to happen. No, my dear.

There won't be any more deaths. You
can't be sure of that. As a matter of

I am.

The murderer's accomplished his purpose,
you see.

His? Or hers.

Dinner is served, ladies.

Good morning, ladies.

Working hard?

Good morning.

Good morning.

Miss Gratner, Lancelot

Fortescue. Oh.

You're even lovelier than I'd imagined.

Mr. Fortescue.

Inspector.

Mr. Fortescue.

There's no getting away from you, is
there?

First day?

Yeah. You're quite the new boy.

Well, you certainly look the part.

Well, that's the easy bit.

You're not too sure you'll hack it, are
you, sir?

Strictly off the record, this isn't my
bag at all. But don't tell Percy,

I want to make him sweat a bit.

Why is that, sir?

Well, it's an old history now.

Wouldn't be the little matter of a
check, would it?

You're right on the ball, aren't you?

And your father kicked you out. Which is
just what Percy wanted.

It's astonishing, you know, how Percy
always got his way.

Lance, talk of the devil.

What is it to you?

You didn't tell me you were coming.

Couldn't keep away.

There are a couple of things I'd like to
talk to you about. I know that your

father's behaviour had been a source of
anxiety this past year.

He wasn't well.

But he wouldn't see a doctor.

That's right.

Pick's disease, I believe.

Remarkably astute of you, Inspector.

A form of dementia.

Yes, which is why I was so anxious for
him to seek medical advice.

And in the meantime, he was causing
havoc to the business.

Yes.

So his death was extremely fortunate.

I would hardly describe it as such. No,
but it is a fact, isn't it, that his

death came at just the right time? What
are you driving at? I'd just like

getting my facts straight, sir.

For instance, you said there'd been no
communication between you and your

brother here since he left England.

Quite so.

But it isn't quite so, is it, Mr
Fortescue? Oh, Percy.

Last spring, when you were so worried
about your father's health, you actually

wrote to your brother for his backing,
should it become necessary to put your

father under restraint.

How the hell did you know about that?

From your family solicitor, Mr
Fortescue.

I thought it only right, considering
Lancelot was a junior partner.

And how did you reply? I told him to
leave the old man alone.

You see, Inspector, that was one of the
reasons I came home to see for myself,

and frankly, there didn't seem anything
much wrong with him. The man was ill. I

was worried thick about the money.

Yes, you swung back from Africa and dare
to suggest... Give it a rest, Percy,

for Christ's sake!

Do you know something, old chap?

It makes me ever so slightly nauseous
being in the same room with you, and

is because you are a dirty little...

Gunk, and you always have been. Keep it
down, you. And I'll tell you another

thing. It was you, wasn't it, who forged
that cheque that got me the boots?

Wasn't it?

Wasn't it?

No, no, no, John.

Steady on.

Me sick of little men like you with your
striped suits and your mincing voices

and your mean, shoddy deals.

Oh, God, I can't wait to get back to
Africa.

So, buy me out, however you like. I
couldn't give a damn. You can even throw

the old Blackbird mine concession, if
you like.

If you want to get the murdering
Mackenzies off your back, what are you

about?

Revenge, Percy.

The Mackenzies. Nonsense.

Well, the Inspector doesn't think so. Do
you, Inspector?

There are certain grounds for inquiry.

But no one's heard from the Mackenzies
for years. A dish best served cold, as

the saying goes.

Morning, gentlemen.

I'm most dreadfully sorry about all
that.

Percival Fortescue. Wherever I turn,
wherever I go, I always come up against

Percival bloody Fortescue.

He's the one who hurt most again, and
he's the one who couldn't possibly have

done it.

Granted, he might have tampered with the
marmalade, but he couldn't have

poisoned his stepmother, and he couldn't
have strangled Gladys.

Why not, sir? Because he was here till
five that day and didn't go home till

seven. Well, there's one or two others
had a motive, sir.

Mary Dove.

Is that your real name?

What an extraordinary question.

Are you suggesting that it isn't? Yes.

I am, in fact, suggesting that your name
is Ruby McKenzie.

Is it?

My name is Mary Dove. Prove it.

Do you want to see my birth certificate?

I wouldn't prove anything, I'm afraid.

Could be a friend's or someone who's
died.

A lot of possibilities, aren't there?

Quite a dilemma for you, Inspector.

Do you deny categorically that you are
Ruby McKenzie?

I rather think it's up to you to prove
that I am.

So much depends on nursing and
pneumonia.

Oh, yes, nearly everything.

That's how your romance started with
Percival, wasn't it?

Yes, that's how it started.

Wasn't there another nurse who got sent
away?

Yes, and I came to replace her.

And fell in love. How nice.

Not so sure about that.

Of course, I'm never one to complain.

What I always say is what can't be cured
must be endured.

But it would be nice to have someone to
talk to.

And it feels so very isolated when my
husband's away in the city every day.

I often wish I was back on the wards
again.

You're obviously devoted to your
profession.

Hmm.

Not so much at the time, but now when I
think of it, I often wish I'd never come

here.

Oh, well, I dare say it serves me right.

I ought never to have done it.

Ought never to have done what, my dear?

I want never to have married Percy.

I really think, Inspector, that things
are becoming very

much clearer.

Are they?

Oh, yes. I now know what didn't ring
true when I spoke to you on the

It was something you said about the
third murder.

Poor Gladys, with the peg on her nose.

Well, of course it wasn't, was it?
Wasn't what, Miss Marple?

The third murder.

Gladys must have been murdered before
Mrs.

Fortescue, even though her body wasn't
found till later.

She must almost certainly have been
murdered about five o 'clock, because

otherwise... She would have taken the
second tray into the sitting room. Quite

so. When she brought the tray into the
hall, something happened.

She saw or heard something.

Vivienne Dubois coming down the stairs?
Perhaps. Or that Gerald Wright chappie

coming in a side door?

Whoever it was lured her out into the
garden and killed her. She'd never be

fetching and washing at that time, and
certainly not without a coat on. So it

was never a case of the maid in the
garden hanging out the clothes.

I thought I was following you, but
I'm... The sequence.

It's all wrong, you see. The king in the
counting house, the queen in the

parlour, the maid in the garden. But
that's not how the murders happened.

It's all camouflage.

To make it look like the rhyme was the
inspiration.

And that's very significant, don't you
think?

Shall I begin at the beginning?

It would be a help, yes.

The beginning, Inspector, is Gladys. I
came here because of her.

And you very kindly let me look through
all her things and...

What with that and the nylon stockings
and best shoes and the telephone calls,

it became perfectly clear.

I mean about Mr Fortescue and the
taxine.

You have a theory about who put the
poison in the marmalade? Not a theory,

Inspector. I know.

You do?

Oh, yes.

It was Gladys, of course.

Gladys?

Not that she meant to murder him, but
she did it all the same. She put the

taxine in the marmalade, not thinking it
was poison. What did she think it was?

Her mother imagined she thought it was a
truth drug.

A very credulous girl was Gladys, as I
told you.

So, having read it in the papers, she'd
believe it absolutely when he told her

that that's what it was.

Who told her? Albert Evans.

Not, of course, that that's his real
name. When he met her last summer at the

holiday camp...

I imagine he told her some story of
injustice or some such thing. But the

was that Rex Fortescue had to be made to
confess what he'd done and make

restitution. So Albert got her to get a
job at Yew Tree Lodge.

And then they arranged a date together.

That was the day that Gladys would put
the so -called truth drug into the

marmalade and also the rye in Mr
Fortescue's pocket.

I don't know what story he told her to
account for that, but, frankly, she'd

believe anything, especially from a
personable young man.

I'm not keeping you, am I?

No, no, no. Well, the idea was probably
that Albert was going to call on Mr

Fortescue at his office, by which time
the truth drug would have worked and Mr

Fortescue would confess everything.

You can imagine how Gladys felt when she
heard the poor man was dead.

Wouldn't she have said something?

Hardly likely to admit it, is she?

I didn't do it. I didn't, really. After
denying it, she'd try to think up

excuses.

Perhaps Albert hadn't known how strong
the stuff was or had accidentally given

her too much of it. She hoped he'd get
in touch, which, of course, he did.

He'd have rung till she answered and
then made a date to meet him. On the day

she died?

Yes. She had on her best stockings and
shoes, so she was obviously going to

someone. And she wasn't going out to
meet him. He was coming to the house.

That's why she was so flustered and late
with the tea.

She brought the second tray into the
hall.

I think she looked along the passage and
saw him.

So she put the tray down and went out to
meet him.

She had to die. He couldn't risk her
talking.

And then the peg to fit with the rhyme.

The nearest he could get to a dicky bird
that pecked off her nose.

So if you're suggesting that Albert
Evans wanted revenge for this whole

Blackbird mine business, then you must
believe that it was Mrs. McKenzie's son

behind all this. That he didn't die at
Dunkirk after all.

Oh, no, I'm not suggesting that for a
minute.

Don't you see, Inspector, all this
Blackbird business is a complete

It was used by someone who'd heard about
the Blackbirds to point the finger of

suspicion at the Mackenzies.

Then who is the killer, Miss Marple?

Someone quite sane, brilliant and
unscrupulous, and done, of course, for

Percival. No, not Percival.

None.

You all right, Inspector?

Lance came home in the summer to see his
father. I don't believe for a moment

that his father sent for him.

And, of course, you have actual
evidence?

No, only a letter that Lance was
supposed to have written to his father

afterwards, which he could easily have
slipped into his papers the day he

arrived. He probably attempted a
reconciliation, but his father would

of it.

You see, Lance is very much in love with
Pat, but the small pittance he was

living on... Not enough of the life he
thought they should have together.

When he was here, he must have heard
about the Blackbirds and jumped to the

conclusion that Mackenzie's daughter was
established in the house.

A perfect scapegoat for murder, because
murder it would have to be.

He feared that by the time his father
died, the business would have completely

collapsed.

Perhaps his father's name being Rex
suggested the idea of the nursery rhyme.

Then he could dispose of Adele too and
save the firm £100 ,000.

But to make the rhyme work, there had to
be the maid in the garden hanging out

the clothes, an innocent accomplice whom
he could silence before she could talk

and thus give him a genuine alibi for
the first murder.

After strangling Gladys, he rang the
bell.

And joined family for tea.

It's so good to see you.

Little Ellie.

Oh, cross the trumpet!

He went to see Mrs. Crump and then
slipped back into the sitting room where

found Adele alone.

Your tea.

Oh, thank you, love.

You're very well trained, aren't you?

But his share of the business isn't
worth three murders.

I would agree, Inspector. If it's true,
the Blackbird mine is worthless.

A mine on the west coast of Africa?

But what if he'd been deliberately
misleading us? What if the Blackbird

on the east coast of Africa, not west?

East Africa, where uranium deposits have
recently been discovered and where

Lance has been living this past several
years.

And just suppose...

The deposits are on the site of the old
Blackbird mine.

Young Lancelot could make a killing.

It's all pure assumption.

But you know it's right, don't you?

I suppose I do.

So do I.

It was Pat who drew my attention to him.

He's the kind that always marries a bad
lot.

How on earth am I going to be able to
prove it?

You'll prove it all right, Inspector.
You're a very clever man.

I have no doubt you'll find the
evidence.

And it still doesn't explain the Ruby
McKenzie business.

If you don't mind my saying so.

You've been barking up the wrong tree.

I was talking to your mother a few days
ago.

She's very angry with me, isn't she?

Poor mummy.

She's so devoted to Daddy.

And she brought you up swearing to
avenge his death.

She made a swear on the Bible that one
day we'd kill Rex Fortescue.

When I started training as a nurse, I
came to realise her mental balance

all that it should be.

You must have felt revengeful, though.

Of course I did.

When a friend of mine came to nurse his
son, I got her to leave and took her

place.

I don't know exactly what I meant to do,
but Percy got fond of me, asked me to

marry him.

I thought that a far more sensible
revenge than anything else.

To marry his oldest son and then get
back the money he swindled Daddy out of.

Did you plant the blackbirds?

Not silly of me, really.

But he was such a horrid man.

It gave him quite a fright.

He was absolutely furious. But I didn't
do anything else. Really, I didn't.

Tell me, Mrs Fortescue, have you given
Miss Dove any money lately?

I told her that you'd accused me of
being Ruby McKenzie and said that if she

gave me £500, I'd let you go on thinking
that.

I told her that if you knew she was
Ruby, she'd be your prime suspect.

It wasn't exactly blackmail. I was just
doing her a favour.

Thank you, Miss Dove.

This is all very annoying.

Particularly hard up at the moment.

You'll be looking for another job, I
suppose?

Yes, this one hasn't quite gone
according to plan.

Unlike your other jobs.

My past is quite blameless, I assure
you. A curious coincidence, though, that

your last three posts there have
happened to be robberies a couple of

after your departure.

Coincidences do happen, Inspector.

Yes, but they mustn't happen too often.

How on earth did you know about the
money?

Just stab in the dark.

I didn't wish you weren't going.

I finished what I came to do.

It hasn't been altogether pleasant, but
it is important that wickedness

shouldn't triumph.

I didn't understand.

No, my dear, but perhaps one day you
will.

If anything ever goes wrong in your
life...

You won't despair, will you?

You're starting to worry me. You won't,
will you?

But how could I despair with Lance at my
side?

We're going back to Kina, you know, as
soon as everything's cleared up.

Oh, I can't wait.

Thank you.

I'm so glad to see you home, miss.

I'm glad to be home, Tilly.

And I haven't broken nothing since you
went. Honest.

Here's your letter.

Thank you, Tilly.

There was one who went to day's need, by
mistake.

They'd been away and only sent it round
today. Said they hoped it weren't

important.

I'll just put your things away.

Dear Madam, I hope as you'll forgive me
writing this, but I really don't know

what to do.

You'll have seen the newspapers.

It was murder, they say, but I'd never
do anything wicked, and I know Albert

wouldn't either.

We met last summer and was going to be
married, only Bert had been done out of

his rights by this Mr Fortescue.

But Bert had a friend who works in a
place where they make these new drugs,

there's what they call a truth drug.

Oh, madam, I don't know what to do.

If you could only come here and help me.

I didn't mean anything wrong, and Bert
didn't either.

I'm enclosing a snap of Bert and me.

Bert doesn't know I've got it. He hates
being snapped.

But you can see madam, what a nice boy
he is.