All language subtitles for 13.04 The Labours of Hercules

My lady.

Right, let's get this ruddy
thing over with, huh?

Your invitation, Sir Anthony.

What?

MAN: The Right Honorable
Lord Smythe, MP,

and Lady Smythe.

Sir Peter and Lady Tavistock.

The Right Honorable
Sir Anthony Morgan, MP,

the Foreign Secretary,
and Lady Celia Morgan.

Mr. Harold Waring, MP,

Parliamentary Under Secretary
to Sir Anthony.

Monsieur Hercule Poirot.

His Honor,
Judge Richard Stubbs, KC.

MAN: Monsieur.

Monsieur Waring.

Lady Hapty Beaumont.

POIROT: "All the beginnings
are delightful.

The threshold is the place
to pause."

Goethe.

Ah.

MAN: Countess Patrna Pantovol.

POIROT: Sir Anthony
is a man most busy.

HAROLD: Oh, yes.

Always on the go.

Excuse me.

Merci.

I feel you do not embrace

your role, Chief Inspector.

Against the advice

of Poirot, you have arranged
this whole operation.

Please to do it correctly!

My men are in position,
Mr. Poirot.

POIROT: C'est bien.

Because there is the greatest
ofdangen

The jewels, the paintings,

the very presence
of Poirot himself.

This Marrascaud --
he shall most surely come.

Look at this.

"Vanquishing the Hydra."

One of the Labours of Hercules,
Hugo van Druys.

Most of the Labours
have been pinched

over the past six months.

Somebody must
be collecting them.

For God's sake, shut up, man.

Wait outside.

I'm actually a police sergeant.

I'm actually His Majesty's
Foreign Secretary.

- Wait outside.
- Sir.

Waring, you should
read this.

Wretched woman wants carnage.

You understand
what's required?

I mean,
I thought this business

had been addressed.

It may be necessary for you to
leave the country for a while.

[sighs]

I imagine it will,
sir.

Lie doggo somewhere,
comfortable but remote.

I'll make sure you get
a bit of pocket money.

I don't want your money, sir.

Good man.

POIROT:
Mademoiselle Lucinda,

you look magnifique!

I'm terrified.

Do I look terrified?

No, of course not.

Why should you be?

This is bait.

Me...

I'm bait.

Oui, certainement.

The thief Marrascaud, he will
be drawn to this place tonight.

But you are in no danger,
mademoiselle.

Poirot, he gives
to you his word.

What happens if I want
to powder my nose?

- Do you come with me?
- If you wish.

Oh, no, no, no.

Of course not, mademoiselle, no.

There is a guard who is
dedicated for the purpose.

When powdering the nose, miss,

keep the door locked.

When you're finished,
tap on the door,

but don't open it
until you hear

the response.

They say Marrascaud kills
for the sheer pleasure of it.

But they also say that Poirot
is so intelligent

he is scarcely human.

But, you know, he does not

listen to this "they."

Comfortable and remote!

WOMAN: Excuse me.
Ah. Sorry.

Poirot, he will see you now.

[Knock on door]

Sergeant?
Where the hell are you?

Oh, my God!

Oh, no.

LUCINDA: They say Marrascaud

kills for the sheer pleasure
of it...

sheer pleasure of it...

POIROT: But you are in
no danger, mademoiselle.

Poirot, he gives
to you his word...

gives to you his word...

Poirot,
you're as fit as a flea.

No, I...

Whatever you think is wrong
with you is simply...

up here.

POIROT: What else is there
but...up here?

What you need, my dear fellow,
is another case.

Preferably one that puts
your life in danger.

POIROT: That is your advice
most considered?

It is.

It's cost you 10 guineas,
so I suggest you act on it.

It was my own fault, Doctor.

Mine alone.

Better not to be
a detective at all

than to be a detective
who has failed.

Look here, you've had
a remarkable career

at the expense
of having a family.

Nothing wrong with that.

But that's what you've chosen.

For God's sake, at least stir
your stumps, get some fresh air.

If you won't walk,
go for a drive.

You have driven me before?

Yes, sir.

The agency's had me out to you
a couple of times, sir.

The name's Williams, sir.

Monsieur Ted Williams?

Ah, oui.

A/ors, Monsieur Williams,

it is of no interest
to me where we go.

You may drive

wherever you please.

[Crying]

Monsieur Williams?

I'm terribly sorry, sir.

I just...

I've just come over a bit...

POIROT: Please, please.
Please to sit.

Bloody stupid idea, this,
isn't it?

I'm going to get the sack now,

blubbing like a baby
in front of the clients.

Pas du tout, monsieur.

Pas du tout.

It's just...

this is the last place
I ever saw her, isn't it?

Saw whom?

Nita.

She was a...

maid to that ballerina,
Katrina Samoushenka.

Ah, oui.

Nita come over
with her from Moscow.

And I had to drive them
about the West End.

Well, I drove Nita.

Samoushenka I never really saw.

She just sat in The Savoy
sending Nita out on errands.

So, we swanked about
the place, Nita and me.

And we'd come here.

We were so much in love,
Mr. Poirot.

And then one day, she says she's

got to go to Switzerland --

Samoushenka's having a crack-up,
she needs treatment.

I says, "Stay with me.

Be my wife, I love you, Nita."

And she's just crying.

That was the last time
I ever saw her.

Right here.

Samoushenka took her off

to this ruddy place.

I keep...

I keep thinking
that I'm all right.

And then I come back here.

I just don't want
to go on living no more.

I can't bear it, sir.

Monsieur Williams?

Poirot, he will find your Nita.

And if she so wishes,
he will bring her back

to this very place,
to this very bench.

Poirot, he gives
to you his word.

L-I can't pay you, sir.

POIROT: Non.

There is no charge, mon ami.

This is a thing that Poirot
must also do for himself.

I have a ticket,
Inspector Lementeuil.

LEMENTEUIL: Monsieur Poirot...

whatever are you doing
in this foolish place?

I am in pursuit
of a lady's maid.

Hmm. I wish I had time
for a social life.

You are telling me
the truth, monsieur?

Poirot always tells the truth.
Why should he not?

LEMENTEUIL: Because he has
wandered into the middle

of an ICPC operation.

The killer
Marrascaud,

Yes.

Scotland Yard thought
they had him in London.

But he got away from them.

A girl was torn to pieces.

Oui.

- Terrible.
- Oui.

He now
has the complete collection...

of van Druys pictures

and countless jewels.

But...

he is coming here.

We have information that

the Hotel Olympos is where
he hides the goods.

If Marrascaud

comes openly,
it will be

as a guest.

The hotel staff were
all accounted for

while he was busy en Ang/eterre.

Of course,

we would be honored,
Monsieur Poirot,

should you wish
to participate with us

in this affair.

When you get to the hotel...

speak to Lieutenant Drouet.

He is undercover.

Poirot can recognize a policeman
when he sees one...

Inspector Lementeuil.

[Bell dings]

Ladies and gentlemen,

your carriage

is arrived.

[Bell dinging]

Countess Rossakoff!

MAN: Allez, allez.
Regardez.

Quickly, please.

Ah.

Buongiorno,
buongiorno...

Gustave, le monsieur la.

Buongiorno!

Ladies and gentlemen,
meine Herren und Damen,

signore e signori,
messieurs-dames.

Welcome, welcome
to the Hotel Olympos,

birthplace

of the internationally acclaimed

Alpine Spa therapy-

I am,

ich bin,

je suis Dr. Krier.

Please to call me Francesco.

Out of season as we are,
a little

of the facility
is not quite open.

But my staff...

WOMAN: Where is Robert?

When we were here

last year,
we were very well served

by Robert.

FRANCESCO: Ah, eh...

Roberto is home
with his family.

He will return
to us in the summer.

We shall not be here.

Pointless!

We have Gustave, Mrs. Rice,

who will attend

to your every desire.

Is my husband here, Francesco?

He is indeed, Mrs. Clayton.

[Clears throat]

When you have
refreshed yourselves

and inspected your rooms,

please may I offer you all

a glass of champagne

on the terrace?

Yes, indeed.

That is essential.

Monsieur Poirot.

"The threshold is the place

to pause."

POIROT: Let us hope that
this beginning proves to be

more delightful than the last.

Yes.
God, yes.

That poor girl.

Monsieur Waring,
it has been a long journey.

Of course.

Excuse me.

MAN:
Come on, you silly cow!

MRS. CLAYTON: You've had enough!

MAN: I'll give you the back
of my hand...

MRS. CLAYTON:
You've obviously had enough!

Don't. Please don't.

Don't!

[Arguing continues]

I'm trying to help you.

Please, don't hurt me.

I'm trying to help you.

No, I won't give you...

Please don't.

Please don't hurt...

9 So
Ow! und]

MAN: Out of my sight!

[Door slams]

MRS. CLAYTON: [Crying]

Ah, Monsieur Poirot.
Champagne?

Si charmant.

Merci.

Ah!

C'est magnifique.

FRANCESCO: Yes, yes, there

is a small
atmospheric change.

But we shall be quite
comfortable here.

Bon.

Tell to me, monsieur, do you
count here among your guests

a Mademoiselle Samoushenka?

Ah.

Alas, monsieur, it is not

our policy to disclose
the identity

of our most
celebrated guests.

POIROT: Oui, cf accord.
I understand but completely.

Nevertheless, she is here?

She is here.

Oh, did you ever see
La Samoushenka dance?

She would hang
in the air like a...

Breath of spring?

Impeccable.

FRANCESCO: Oui.

But this season, she has
not graced the stage.

No, monsieur,

she has been here.

But she keep to her room.

And no receive visitors.

Her physician, Dr. Lutz,
that gentleman...

no lo permette...

he does not allow.

It is said that she has...

a broken heart...

un coeur brisé.

But she has brought
with her her maid?

She has brought no maid.

No?

Then who is that young lady?

FRANCESCO:
That is Miss Alice Cunningham.

Is Monsieur po/izei,

police officer?

Non, non, mon ami.

He is...Poirot.

Ladies,
is everything quite well?

[Whispers]

Are you Mr. Harold Waring?

My "incognito" tumbles
at the first fence.

Yes.

Yes, I am.

May I speak candidly?

Well, I suspect you're about to.

You have come here from England

to escape the consequences
of a scandal.

Is that correct?

Yes.

Then I must entreat you
not to engage my daughter

in private discourse.

My son-in-law would take
a dim view of it.

Very dim.

Another glass, monsieur?

Non, merci, quand meme.

[Sniffs]

Lieutenant Drouet.

Ma fol.

Are you in contact with
Inspector Lementeuil?

And what news

of Marrascaud?

He is not here,
not yet.

Oh, monsieur!

Pardon, monsieur.

Hercule!

POIROT: Countess!

Lyubov moya!

12 years.

Bouf!

Gone like smoke through keyhole.

POIROTI Oui.

I recognized you instantly.

What could I do but return?

You look well, Countess.

- Well?
- Oui.

Hercule, such insipidity.

At very least, I want
to look like a goddess.

One of the better ones.

Of course I look well.

It is my life
of unrelenting virtue.

My life of crime

is largely over.

POIROT: Bon.

- S'i/ vous plait?
- Ah.

Merci.

[Laughs]

These days, I must at least
pretend to be sensible adult.

After all, dorogoi...

I am a mother.

Mmm.

[Laughs]

[Speaking Russian]

Oh!

[Knock on door]

[Door opens]

You're up.

I am vertical...

if that is what you mean.

Have you taken
your medication?

Look at my eyes,
Dr. Lutz.

I have taken
my medication.

LUTZ: Shall We
talk?

I don't want to.

When you don't
want to, Katrina,

then is the time to talk.

It's the way to make you better.

[Clears throat]

Countess.

ROSSAKOFF: Hercule.

I should like you to meet
my daughter,

Alice Cunningham.

And her ugly dog.

Mademoiselle.
"Cunningham"?

Ships in the night, forget him.

I have.

Alice is criminologist.

Well,
with a mother like me,

she would have to turn
one way or the other.

She studies
the modi operandi

of great criminals.

Dorogoi,
sh, sh, sh.

POIROT: Only the great
criminals, mademoiselle?

What about the little ones?

ALICE: My thesis
examines the detectives

who are successful
in exposing

these miscreants.

She's studied you.

Le mot de Dieu!

Do I repay the study?

[Laughs]

He looks at you

and he thinks,

"She could be my daughter."

Of course,
you are not his daughter.

Monsieur Poirot and I would have

had to have held hands
at the very least.

But he looks
at you, dorogoi,

and he sees the life

he might have had.

Yes, I am aware that you
and my mother are...

acquainted.

She's told me you were
incredibly kind to her.

Oh, shush.

I might have
said it once.

She speaks of little else.

But what is your case, monsieur,
that brings you here?

I am Poirot.

I have two cases.

One of them must be Marrascaud.

The newspapers
are full of him.

He got away from you in London.

If you are here,

it is because...

Marrascaud is expected, too?

Maybe he's here already.

ROSSAKOFF: How thrilling.

Which one of us is it?

Is it me?
[Dog whines]

ALICE: I shall write down

who I think it is
in the margin of this book.

Oh, no.

ALICE:
So, when Monsieur Poirot

unmasks the killer...

we shall see
if I'm right.

- Oh.
- What's that?

It is merely the snow...

moving.

Somewhere an avalanche.

[Dag whining]

[Clears throat]

Might I speak
to you a moment?

I read in the newspaper that
you have an illegitimate child.

Yes,
I read that, too.

May I ask what happened
to your face?

My husband has difficulty

controlling his temper.

Sometimes I displease him.

Well, sometimes I displease
my loved ones.

They don't hit me in the face
when I do it.

Who says I love him?

We all have...
regrets,

Mr. Waring.

Regrets are the most forlorn
and useless emotions,

Mrs. Clayton.

One must ensure against them.

Elsie.

MAN: So...

we shall amuse ourselves

with a round of Botticelli.

It is a parlor game.

I give you my letter,

you must establish
my identity by questioning me.

So, I choose...

M-

You say, "Did you paint

the ceiling
of the Sistine Chapel?"

I say, "Nein, I am not
Michelangelo."

You say, "Ach. . ."

Yes, yes, we all know the game.

Did you write
the Resurrection Symphony?

[Sighs]
I know nothing of music.

Mahler.

Good, good!

I fail.

You have earned
a direct question.

FRANCESCO: Ladies and gentlemen,
meine Herren und Damen,

signore and signori,
messieurs-dames.

ROSSAKOFF: [Speaking Russian]
This man is such a bore!

A point of information.

I am advised

that a small quantity

of snow

has fallen in the tunnel
of the funicular.

The workmen are attending
to the obstruction,

and it will soon be clear.

S'i/ vous plait, monsieur,
how soon?

Oh, tout de suite, monsieur,
very soon.

Within a couple of days
for certain.

[sighs]

So, we are trapped

in this preposterous place?

FRANCESCO: It is a large...

small quantity of snow.

But not be despondent.

It will be gemut/ich up here.

We have food, we have wine,
we shall be, uh...

What is the phrase?

Demented with boredom.

Cozy.

We shall be most...
cozy.

With a killer on the premises.

POIROT: And now is the moment

when we must be very...

very vigilant.

ELSIE: [crying]

[Man snoring]

Just tell me.

All you have to do
to make me go away...

is just tell me
you're all right.

I'm...

all right.

[Door opens]

GUSTAVE: Ah!

POIROT: Drouet.

Do you have a gun?

Non.

N On!

- Do you want one?
- Non.

I am on edge.

This whole business...

is putting me on edge,

waiting.

Sometimes, Lieutenant,
that is all one can do...

is to wait.

The telephone is down
and I have no orders.

I don't like
to be without orders.

Have you ever seen him?

Marrascaud?

Non.

GUSTAVE: I saw him once.

He had a mask, but I...

I saw
his eyes.

He looked directly at me.

So, you'll appreciate why I am
restless here without orders,

waiting for him to come.

Will you give me orders,

monsieur?

Oui, Lieutenant Drouet.

Sleep.

You don't think Marrasoaud will
climb the mountain tonight?

Non, mon ami.

For he is already here.

RICE:
Shocking waste of paint.

Whole hotel is simply festooned
with this appalling tat.

POIROT: It appears, madame, that
you are the connoisseuse, hein?

Your little brooch, for
instance, it is most fine.

But I observe that
you do not wear it today.

RICE: I always wear it.

Good heavens,

the ruddy thing's gone.

Probably stolen.

I tell you,
this place has gone to pot.

I'm beginning to think Robert
gave in his cards.

MAN: Spa.

Si.

Danke.

Monsieur will also avail himself
of our facilities?

POIROT: Facilities?

The sauna, the steaming room...

No.
No, no, no.

[Knock on door]

MAN:
Don't make me knock again!

[Knock on door]

KATRINA: Stop that!

Door is unlocked.

I didn't call

for room service.

That is well.

For I have none to offer.

I am Poirot.

You are waiting.

What are you waiting for?

To be invited to leave

or to sit down.

Merci, mademoiselle.

Would you be so kind
as to tell to me something?

What became of your maid?

KATRINA:
I have never had a maid.

Nita.

She died.

POIROT:
The maid you never had...

she died?

KATRINA: Nita died.

I have never had another maid
after Nita.

Who sent you?

[Door opens]

LUTZI What is this?

I don't know who this is.

I don't care.

He's leaving.

Merci, mademoiselle.

You have been most helpful.

Don't touch my things.

Je m'excuse.

You write, mademoiselle?

I can barely dress myself.

How could
I write?

POIROT: Merci, mademoiselle.

Doctor.

LUTZ: What is the point

of making rules?

HAROLD: Mr. Clayton --

does he take all his meals
in his room?

Is monsieur po/izei --

police officer?

Signore Waring,
you insult me.

No, no, no, no.

Look, I'm not a ruddy policeman.

- No?
- Of course not.

Signore Clayton,
he takes his meals,

certainly.

Meals out of a bottle.

Whiskey, whiskey, whiskey,

all day long.

Thank you.

Monsieur Poirot!

Let me be absolutely clear.

I cannot permit you
to interfere

with my patient.

Dr. Lutz.

Are you an admirer
of Nietzsche?

LUTZ: All Austrians are not
Nazis, Monsieur Poirot.

You think I try to trap you?

Naturally, it is your métier.

Who is employing you and what
do you want from my patient?

In this case, I am engaged
by Monsieur Ted Williams.

And what I require from
Mademoiselle Samoushenka

is the return of her maid, Nita.

I have genuinely no idea
what you're talking about.

Nita, the servant maid
impeccable.

Monsieur Ted Williams the lover,

most ardent
and full of chivalry.

You speak to me in archetypes.

All this is very Jung.

Nobody of intelligence
credits Jung.

What is wrong with the lady
in Room 16?

Ha, you French!

You make me scream
with laughter.

I am glad...

but also
Belgian.

You cannot expect me
to compromise

my client confidentiality!

Are you mad?

No, Doctor,

but neither
is Katrina Samoushenka.

[Piano plays]

[Dog whines and barks]

ROSSAKOFF: Oh,
for God's sake!

That's it, darling,

YOU Sing along.

ROSSAKOFF: Is it not the most
hideous deformity of dog

you ever beheld?

It is as if it had
two heads.

Snap.

POIROT: Another head,

he could be Cerberus.

ALICE: Don't you start!

As it is,

his name's Binky.

[Clears throat]

Compliments of the house,
monsieur.

POIROT: Non, merci.
Ah.

The manager loves you

because you are
the only person here

who does not complain.

Snap.

Naturally,

he is not a doctor.

His name's not Krier, either.

It's Rosato.

He used to run nightclub
in Brindisi.

I saw him there, but he doesn't
remember me.

I was...

beneath his notice
at the time.

Ah, yes, dorogoi.

Since we last met, my life
has not always been

so agreeable.

Snap.

[Laughs]

Ah, yes.

These are for you.

POIROT: For me?

These are beautiful.

I have from time to time

lost my money and my dignity,
Hercule.

I never lost my taste.

But...

No,
I did not steal them.

My father wore them
when we fled Bitterberg.

Merci beaucoup.

The Labours of Hercules.

That is how you unconsciously
conceive your career.

You are the modern incarnation

of Hercules.

How resourceful of me.

ALICE: Hmm, Dr. Lutz should name
a condition after you.

The Hercules Complex --

the compulsion to conquer
all obstacles,

however forbidding.

It is why you are driven

to chase Marrascaud.

You simply have to.

The man is on the rampage
all over Europe.

He is the master criminal.

Who else could possibly
defeat him?

"Hercule."

There is no one else.

Snap.

MAN:
You give me that bottle!

Give it to me!
Give it to me now!

Or, by God, I'm going to...

ELSIE: Stop it, control
yourself, you're soaring me!

MAN: You do that again,
you know what's coming!

ELSIE: Don't hit me again!

Clayton!

You cowardly swine,
step outside!

ELSIE: No! No!
Get away from me!

- Please don't...
- Elsie.

ELSIE: Please don't hurt me!

Argh!

[Screaming]

HAROLD: God!

Go!

My darling, go!

Go!

God!

[Knock on door]

Mrs. Rice.

What has happened?

Does Clayton's injury
need attention?

Tell me what to do.
I can do it.

My daughter's husband is dead.

She has killed him, you see.

I should go...

No, Mr. Waring,
please stay here.

We shall not have
you implicated.

HAROLD: But...

[Door opens]

[Crying]

HAROLD: Please.

Now, do sit down.

There, there.

There, there.

Tell me what happened, please.

I carried the body
to the bathroom.

I stood on the closed lid
of the lavatory.

I fed the body through
the little window.

It went down the mountain.

Right.

So, Clayton's
down the mountain.

I think I was observed.

The staff quarters
look out on us.

I saw a face.

Right.

Let me...

Let me think a minute.

This is not England.

The solution to this
is probably a bribe.

One bribe to the manager.

Enough for him to silence

whichever member of staff
observed you.

Also,
if necessary, the police.

We have no money for a bribe.

Leave it to me.

[sighs]

Mickey Mouse.

Excusez-moi?

M, in Botticelli.

I was Mickey Mouse.

I am now ready for another game.

For you, I am D.

Monsieur, I have no appetite --

MAN: I'll give you a clue --
two clues.

I am alive
and I am not fictitional.

POIROT: Vraiment, monsieur,
I insist...

that you excuse me
from this game.

Ah...

buongiorno, Signore Waring.
Good morning.

- Francesco?
- Si.

Can I speak frankly?

I have...

a problem.

Is it a big problem,
Signore Waring?

Pretty big.

How big...

is pretty big, signore?

Nothing,

I'm sure...

we cannot help you with.

You may be assured
of my most discreet...

professional services.

That would be nice.

Binks, tell the truth.

If you were the greatest
criminal brain

in the known universe...

and you had just torn
the internal organs

out of a beautiful young girl...

where would you
go to catch your breath?

You wouldn't really come to
a dump like this, would you?

[Knock on door]

Come in.

[Door opens]

[Door closes]

[Screams]

Mother!

Mother! Mother!

Signore Waring, whatever
this is,

I am not sure our
arrangement covers it.

My daughter!
Where is Alice?

Mother!

Oh, bozhe moy!

Oh, my child!

I'm not hurt, I'm not hurt!

If you please, mademoiselle.

Tell to me what you can.

ALICE: Yes, um...
it was a man alone.

He had a mask.

Did he touch you?
Was it Marrascaud?

Billache!

If you please, Countess.

Did he speak?

Can you be sure it was a man?

It was pretty clear
he was a man!

And what he wanted.

But he didn't get it.

[Growls]

He had
good shoes.

Handmade.

So, you see...

Oui.

What?

A/ors, Countess, the man
who attacked your daughter,

he is not a member of staff,
non.

He is a guest.
[Knock on door]

Come.

[Door opens]

Countess...

Monsieur.

I came to see
if I could be of assistance

to Miss Cunningham.

ALICE: How kind,

Dr. Lutz.

What manner of assistance?

The procedures
of psychological recovery

are my speciality.

[Biflky barks]

Shush, Binky.

We've established you're
a completely useless guard dog.

Urn...

thank you, Dr. Lutz,
I shall bear you in mind.

Wrong shoes.

Because he changed them.

It was him.

It was not him, Mother.

God, you'd make
such a useless detective!

Monsieur Poirot,

I have decided to help you.

I'll meet you in the lounge

in five minutes.

- Non, mademoiselle...
- Please, I need this for me.

Miss Cunningham.
I do hope...

Yes, well,
it was most unpleasant,

but now I'm fine.

Monsieur Poirot here has some
questions to ask you.

Indeed.

Monsieur Waring,

if you please to tell Poirot

where you were
when Mademoiselle Cunningham

was menaced.

Me?

I was in my room.

So, why do you blush
to say this?

Was there another person
with you?

I say!
Don't be so offensive.

ALICE: Don't mind me.

My bedroom's full of people who
aren't supposed to be there.

En effet, you can help Poirot,
monsieur.

If you please to advise
Monsieur Philip Clayton

that now it is the time for him
to emerge from his room

to account for himself.

No.

No, monsieur?

Clayton has left the hotel.

Mais ga, dest incroyable!

Monsieur Philip Clayton,
he does not grow the wings.

HAROLD: [Laughs]

Well, he might.

You are very tired, monsieur.

Tired is the least
of what I am, Poirot.

I'm a killer.

I killed
Philip bloody Clayton

and stuffed his body
out the window.

That is most interesting.

How did you kill him, monsieur?

With a dirty great paperweight.

Back of the head.

Bang.

Bang.

And, of course, you killed

Monsieur Philip Clayton
because he beats his wife?

The wife with whom
you are in love...

and was in your bedroom
when Mademoiselle Cunningham,

she was being attacked.

Yes.

And her mother,
she was with us, too.

Oh, naturellement.

Madame Rice
was almost constantly

with you.

Oh, except, of course, when you
were engaged in the murder

of Monsieur Philip Clayton.

She arrived a short while
afterwards looking a little,

uh...
échevelée?

Ah, perhaps we should
continue this inside,

mon cher ami.

It cannot be possible.

Neither of them
was in Copenhagen.

If anything goes wrong...
anything at all...

I shall blame you.

If you please, monsieur.

Oui bien, monsieur.

Listen to Poirot.

You recall that night
in London?

When I observed

the behavior
of Sir Anthony Morgan

towards his wife, oui?

Et bien, it gave to Poirot
the measure of this man.

And I believe that it was he

who fathered the child
with a prostitute, monsieur,

and not you, non.

You took the blame in order
to preserve the integrity

of your Ministry, because
you are a man most honorable.

And now you take the blame

for the murder
of Philip Clayton.

But Poirot, he knows
that this cannot be true.

Because there
is no Philip Clayton --

there never was such a man.

You know, Poirot,
he racked his brains.

And he remembered the case
in Copenhagen

where there was a good man
at a very low ebb in his life.

Like you.

He was relieved of all his money
by two sisters.

Madame Rice and Madame Clayton,
mon vieux,

are not mother and daughter.

But I saw Elsie
smash the man over...

POIROT: Non!

The man who was struck
was not a man at all.

But her elder sibling
in disguise.

And then, of course, they send
you away while they, huh,

dispose of the body.

But ma/heureusement,
they were observed,

and then they came
to you and...

you offer to make the bribe.

HAROLD:
But I gave them nothing.

I gave it all to that
Francesco chap.

Francesco. Have you ever
met a man more corrupt?

He is most surely
their accomplice.

How do you know Mrs. Rice

was impersonating Clayton?

Oh, madem...

Mademoiselle,
your coat, it is open.

Please to do it up, hmm?

Vous voyez, monsieur.

The ladies, they draw
the right over the left

and the gentlemen they draw
the left over the right.

And when I observed this,
huh, Philip Clayton...

in the corridor

do up his dressing gown...

Right over left.

C'est ga.

[sighs]

A/ors, monsieur, I believe
that you have suffered enough.

I leave you to recover
your position, mon brave.

Yes.

Those women should hang.

Croyez-vous, mademoiselle?

You are very harsh.

What are you thinking?

Oh, I am thinking
that Cerberus

has much to tell us
about Marrascaud.

If you ask us to guess
who you are,

I shall scream.

Monsieur Poirot.
My card.

I am
an insurance investigator.

I offer you my services.

It was him.

Monsieur, can you tell to me
where you were

when Mademoiselle Cunningham,
she was attacked?

Certainly.

My complete itinerary
for the day.

All verifiable by witnesses.

Excluding the criminals Waring,
Francesco, and the women

calling themselves Rice
and Clayton, of course.

Merci.

I shall await your call,
monsieur.

Definitely him.

[Gasps]

Don't look.

There, quickly!

Oh...

so she is here.

Katrina.

This is not appropriate.

KATRINA: Who pays for your
dinner, Dr. Lutz?

LUTZ: That is not a legitimate
basis for argument.

KATRINA: Well, I disagree.

Dine with me if you wish.

Otherwise, leave me alone.

We talk about this later.

Mademoiselle?

KATRINA: A bottle of wine and,
um...food

of some description.

Oui.
D'accord.

POIROT: Mademoiselle,

there is one thing
that you must know.

It is a thing that was told
to Poirot,

but he did not believe it
of himself, but it is true.

And it is true of you.

You are not ill,
mademoiselle, non.

You are not ill.

The Countess Rossakoff
is a criminal,

monsieur.

And you have done nothing
to promote her arrest.

You could do the same for us.

Excuse me.

Otherwise you drive us
to extremes.

Do not press me, ladies.

Poirot,
he will not be pressed.

[Door opens]

Nom d'un chien!

Aargh!

GUSTAVE: Stay where you are.

Aaargh!

Ah!

POIROT: Schwartz?

Drouet...

with a D.

Of course you are.

I was watching your door.

POIROT: My God...

[Groaning]

- That's quite a drop.
- Sans b/ague.

He will be injured.

He already is.

I think my shot
went through his stomach.

- Will you excuse me?
- Oui.

Oui bien, Poirot.

The little gray cells...

at last they begin to sing.

Uh!

He cannot escape.

GUSTAVE:
You want me to shoot him?

POIROT:
No, Lieutenant Drouet.

Poirot, he does not wish that.

Viens.

[Grunting]

Stop!

Gustave...

you are wounded.

And if you remain out here

you will most surely die.

No!
I said no!

[Panting]

That is enough!

Come back in!

We have so much to discuss,

you and I.

Mon ami.

What is your name?

Marrascaud.

No, Gustave!

No.
No! Gustave!

He was not Marrascaud.

Why should a man
go to his death

claiming to be someone else?

That is the mystery
that is so terrible.

Well.

If you are in the mood
for horrors...

there is something else
you should see.

Careful.

Merci.

There.

Oh, non, non, non.

At least the cold prevents him
from stinking.

Oh...

Oh, dear.

- Do you know who it is?
- Oui.

It is the servant Robert.

I found him this afternoon.

Either suicide, or somebody...

Non.
This is not suicide, mon ami.

Look at the hands.

No, these hands,
they do not speak of a waiter

who decided to hang himself.

This man was fighting
for his life.

And was overpowered.

So, this is the man
Gustave replaced?

- Oui.
- Huh.

This Gustave,
he must have known

about the undercover operation
to take Marrascaud.

Oui.

And he just pretended to be me.

Though how he knew my name...

I have nothing to identify me.
What?

Poirot, you are such
a clumsy fool!

You handed to him
the name on a plate.

Another glass, monsieur?

Non, merci, quand meme.

[Sniffs]

Lieutenant Drouet?

It makes no difference now.

So...

what do we do?

Gustave wanted us to believe
that it was Marrascaud

falling to his death.

Oui?

Then that, for the moment,
is what we shall believe.

ROSSAKOFF: Hercule!
What happened?

Are you dead?

ALICE:
We heard another shot.

[Speaking Russian]

Francesco.

Please tell to the staff

to keep to their quarters.

Their services
will not be required.

Countess,

this gentleman is
Lieutenant Drouet of the ICPC.

Are you sure?
He is so many people.

Ah.

And as for Marrascaud...
he is dead.

Good heavens.

The man calling himself Gustave.
It was him.

ROSSAKOFF: I knew it.

Those terrible shoes.

What, the waiter with the drip
at the end of his nose?

POIROT: Oui.

I must confess to being
a little disappointed.

That's not the name
I wrote in my book.

POIROT: Monsieur Waring?

Mrs. Rice and Mrs. Clayton.
They've left the hotel.

POIROT: What?

Please do come and look.

Excusez-moi.

What? Tell me.
Is it likely they'll survive?

Two women, unfit,

without protective clothing,
without skis.

In the freezing dark.

For ladies whose livelihood
depends on risks

that are calculated, they have
overreached themselves, I fear.

I must pursue them.

Monsieur Waring.

Listen to Poirot, huh?

The opportunity to make yourself
feel better by doing

something senselessly heroic
may yet present itself, but...

this is not it.

COmpris?

Lieutenant Drouet,
what special apparatus

have you brought with you?

A gun.
A shortwave wireless set...

Excellent.
a c'est la bonne formu/e.

No, but up here it doesn't work.

It has never worked.

De rien, Poirot, he is
the master of technology.

Please to bring this apparatus
to the salon.

And, Monsieur Waring, please
to invite also the other guests.

Poirot shall make the wireless
to live again.

Lieutenant, will you please

to make everyone
stand over there?

It's impossible for...

Ladies and gentlemen,
step back, please.

FRANCESCO: Monsieur.
Monsieur.

I trust the po/izei

will keep a sense of proportion
about my involvement in...

Ah.

Hello?

Yes, I can hear you.

(Test Poirot ici.

Oui,

Drouet, he is here
and he is well.

Lementeuil, tell to me
what you can

before the signal,
it fails.

Oui.
D'accord.

No, I understand.

Enfin, bref--

Poirot, he has requirements...

Hello?

Lementeuil?

It is dead.

Well?
What is understood?

POIROT: The tunnel...
it has been cleared.

And at dawn, in precisely
one hour from now,

the funicular,
it will operate again.

And what are your
"requirements," monsieur?

Time, mademoiselle.

Time is all that
is required by Poirot.

May I ask something?

Why do you insist on referring
to yourself in the third person?

It is intensely irritating.

POIROT: Because, Dr. Lutz,
it helps Poirot achieve

a healthy distance
from his genius.

Mademoiselle Cunningham,

your disappointment,
it can be set aside.

The man calling himself Gustave,
he was not Marrascaud.

You don't say.

POIROT: Non, he was
the accomplice most loyal,

who went to his death
willingly...

to conceal the identity
of his master.

Oh, I feel sick.

So, who is this Marrascaud?

Does he exist?

Or is he collective neurosis?

Mademoiselle...

Marrascaud, he exists.

He is here now.

A little patience, mes amis.

Then Poirot...

he will explain.

Monsieur, there are things
I wish you to do.

But first, do you have here
the passports

for each of the guests?

In the safe, monsieur.

POIROT: Bon. Place them
in the room of Poirot.

Et maintenant, ecoutez bien.

Oui.

While Mademoiselle Samoushenka
is here occupied

go to her room and take whatever
it is you find

from underneath her pillow.

Also the writing case

which is on the little table
beside the bed.

Place these items
in the dining room,

into a large laundry basket
for Poirot.

Also, that terrible picture
that is in my room.

And some terebenthine.
Oui.

And, monsieur, in the matter
of people being arrested...

And a rag.

A rag.

POIROT: Assemble also the guests
in the dining room in...

2O minutes.

I have an appointment.

[Growls]

Bon.

Merci, monsieur.

Merci.

Dorogoi,

what are you doing?

Have you brought us here

to instruct us
how to clean painting?

HAROLD: That amount of spirit,
monsieur,

you might wipe off an Alp.

Hmm.

Told you.

One could consider it
an improvement.

Wait a minute.

What's that?

It is a man.

Well, I'm a ruddy Chinaman.

Spoken like a true officer
in His Majesty's Foreign Office.

It's
the Le Mesuriers' van Druys.

POIROT: Précisément.

"Vanquishing the Hydra."

One of a series of which
paintings, monsieur?

"The Labours of Hercules."

This is so.

And the rest of the Labours?

They are all here.

All around this building
they sit,

waiting.

Hidden, but in the plain sight.

Waiting for what?

For the fence of Marrascaud

to find a purchaser
for the collection.

Francesco, from where did you

purchase these pictures?

A man...
down the mountain.

I get them very cheap.

Indeed, because for Marrascaud

it is a kind of rental.

Ah, but there are other
treasures here, in bond.

KATRINA: [Gasps]

That is mine.

Is it, mademoiselle?

Je suis désolé.

I return it to you at once.

Nevertheless,

in the spirit of candor,

which is mandatory
in these circumstances,

I must insist that
you show to Poirot

its contents.

Don't be ridiculous.

The Lieutenant Drouet

is a policeman.

Would you prefer him
to show us the contents

of your writing case?

Bloody hellfire.

Monsieur.

Well, I'm sorry, but
that necklace was around

that poor girl's throat
that night -- Lucinda.

And the earrings that went with.

God, that's not still blood
on them, is it?

Merci, monsieur.

Mademoiselle, are you surprised

to find these items

in your writing case?

- No.
- Non.

Will you please explain
to us all how

they came to arrive there?

- No.
- No.

I thought not.

It is of little consequence

for Poirot knows the story
of these stones.

I must protest.

But, of course, monsieur,
that is your raison d'etre.

Everything that
Mademoiselle Samoushenka does

you must either
interrogate or disparage.

Because otherwise you...
have no function.

Oui.

Ah, another of your personal
possessions

that has found its way

into the basket of Poirot.

[Katrina gasps]

And you will notice

the agitation of Dr. Lutz.

He thought he had made you

to throw away this object,
but, non.

You hid it under your pillow.

And this item is the disguise
you once wore in London

to become Nita.

And as Nita the maid,

you were, of course,
able to fall in love

with the hard-working man,

the driver
Monsieur Ted Williams,

whom the proud and haughty
Katrina Samoushenka

could not
permit herself to love.

This Nita, who has to be
discarded when her mistress

must leave London.

And so Nita the maid
has to die.

And Monsieur Ted Williams

must bear the pain every day
of his life

of a heart that is broken.

And Dr. Lutz...

the opportunist
who has been retained

to nurse you through
your unhappiness,

to heal you with the talking
cure, with the pills,

with the constant reinforcement
that you are mentally unstable,

that you cannot be trusted

to exist alone.

Because this keeps him
in employment.

But it is a cover.

But that is the way you behave.

How can one trust
either of you?

I told you he was forceful.

And you, Countess.

Never quite able

to wean yourself from the life
of crime, hmm?

Pourrais-je, madame?

Oh,
vous voyez, mademoiselle.

Your mother,
she is wearing the brooch

belonging to Madame Rice.

It was ugly on her, and it is
pretty on me.

She won't be needing it
to go down mountain.

She steals so rarely these days.

Peut-étre.

But maybe she enjoys
the pleasure

of fencing jewelry
that has been taken by another?

For God's sake.
You know that is not true.

You know that --

My turn.

Mademoiselle Cunningham.

The student of criminology.

Your fascination with,
oh, the method.

Your eagerness always to know

what it is that Poirot,
he is thinking.

How deliciously pure

it would be, mademoiselle,

to conceal yourself
under the wing

of the very detective
who searches for you.

ALICE: Yes.

May I say I think
that's very interesting,

but a little woolly...

and...

not quite out of the top drawer,
sleuth-wise.

Monsieur Waring.

You are no stranger to deceit.

HAROLD:
That's a little harsh, Poirot.

Only a few hours ago
you were telling me

what an honorable man I was.

Because it is your honor
that leads you to deceit.

Will you please fetch for me

the ladies Madame Clayton
and Madame Rice?

They're halfway
down the mountain.

No, monsieur, they are not
halfway down the mountain.

I think you'll find them
hiding in your bedroom.

Now, look here!

Just please to fetch them,
monsieur.

Bon.

Et maintenant,
Monsieur le patron.

I have done everything

you asked, monsieur.

Soyons gentile.

You ask Poirot
to be gentle with you?

Oui.

You, who when the servant Robert
went missing,

made not the slightest attempt
to find him?

And then when Gustave appeared
later in the day,

did you put the two
and two together?

Of yes, of course you did,
monsieur, but you pretended

not to hear the answer.

And then he gives you cash.

And tells to you that he wishes

to work for you as a waiter.

And why not?

Guests have asked
for stranger things.

And, after all, cash...

it is...

cash.

Ah!

Ladies.

If he were wearing a hat,

Poirot, he would
sweep it off to you.

Your venality,

it knows no bounds.

You take and you take
and you take!

We returned the money.

From the goodness
of humanity, you take!

You ruin a man

and then make him feel guilty
for being ruined.

You make him pretend
that you have escaped.

But you have not
escaped Poirot, non.

No, mesdames, justice, it will
surely be meted out to you,

for you are predatory

and malign!

A/ors, who else remains?

Seulement the Lieutenant Drouet

and Poirot.

Mais non.

There is you, monsieur.

Cerberus.

Why did you not bark

when your mistress,
she was attacked, huh?

Is it because her assailant
was a man that you knew?

Or is it possible
she was not attacked at all?

And that this attack...

was a device most cynical
to throw Poirot off the scent?

Would you like me to describe
the intimate parts

of my tormentor, monsieur?

They were on display.

Non.
Non, non, non.

That is not necessary
for Poirot.

Oh, you are clever.

But you are even more clever
with the men.

Gustave, for instance, your...

creature.

You give to him
just enough attention

to make him fall
utterly in love with you.

I saw his eyes.

He looked directly at me.

So passionately in love,
that whenever he thinks of you,

his hands,

they tremble.

Trapped and wounded, what else
could he offer you but his life?

Dying with a lie upon his lips
in the belief

that it would protect you.

You, mademoiselle,

who are entirely
without compassion,

entirely without mercy.

You who said that the ladies
should hang.

And you yourself,
mademoiselle,

who ordered Robert
to be hanged.

Because it was...

convenient.

Hmm. I'm going to have to write

this down, this is fascinating.

I do not think you will need

whatever is in your handbag
to listen to Poirot.

Do you know what it was that
first alerted my attention,

mademoiselle?

Hmm?

The biting of your thumb.

She's studied you.

And Poirot, he remembered where
he had seen this before.

And he realized that
you must have seen it,

too.

Oh, yes, you saw it,

mademoiselle.

And you stored it up

for the future use,

to manipulate the guilt
and the shame

of Poirot.

And what else had you observed,

mademoiselle?

WOMAN: Don't open it until
you hear the response.

POIROT: All the information

that you could
possibly require.

And Poirot...

he felt so vigilant that night.

ALICE: Excuse me.

- Ah, pardon.
- Sorry.

Poirot, he will see you now.

But, in fact, he was a man

who was so blind.

A/ors, mesdames et messieurs,
let us imagine a little scene.

The scene where
Mademoiselle Cunningham

goes to Mademoiselle Samoushenka

in tears

and says:

"Oh, mademoiselle,

the man I love is so very poor.

We have no money.

And...

the cruel and snobbish Countess,
my mother,

she forbids us

to marry.

She has taken all my jewels,

except these.

Please to hide them for me,
mademoiselle, for the sake

of my love that is secret
and forbidden.

Everything depends...
on you."

I condense
for the dramatic purposes.

But the essence of it,

it is correct, oui?

Yes.

Oui, and how did you know

this story would succeed?

Because it was told to you

by your regular fence
and accomplice,

Dr. Heinrich Lutz.

Whose passport I have here...

And yours,

mademoiselle.

And if Poirot compares the two,

what does he discover?

He discovers that

in the past six months,

you have both visited
exactly the same countries,

on exactly the same dates.

Oh, mademoiselle.

I am concerned that there
is in your handbag a gun.

Lieutenant,

would you please see
if it also contains a book?

No gun.

One book.

POIROTI Bon.

And would you please
to read out loud

the name that
is there written...

in the margin of page...

81.

- Lutz.
- Lutz.

The contingency plan,

mein Herr.

To betray you.

Although you had already
been betrayed to Poirot

by the greeting so familiar
of the little dog.

[D09 growls]

Shush, Binky.

But, you know,

for all this,
Poirot was still not certain.

Until his simple ruse.

Alors, mesdames et messieurs,

Poirot pretended to repair
the wireless.

He pretended to speak
to the police.

He announced that the funicular,
it would soon be open.

And you, mademoiselle...

you decided
it was time to leave.

Is that...

out of the top drawer...

Marrascaud?

No!

ALICE:
Well, this is interesting.

- Bozhe moy.
- Shut up.

You didn't seriously think
I'd come to your little talk

with a weapon in my own bag,
did you?

[Scoffs]

No, I put it in hers.

I beg you.

This is not the behavior
of a civilized woman.

What a bloody useless mother
you are.

S'i/ vous plait.
This is not the way.

It cannot end this way!

Mistake, Poirot.

Because for the sheer...

childish pleasure...

of proving you wrong.

POIROT: No!

Put down the gun.

LUTZ: This is not a gun!

It's an objective correlative!

LEMENTEUILI Put down

the objective correlative.

POIROT: Countess?

- I am unhurt.
- Ah.

You did not think that she would
shoot her own mother?

HAROLD: Does that count

as a senselessly heroic act,
monsieur?

I hope it does,
because I really

don't want to have to do that
ever again.

I believe that it does,
monsieur.

Take them away.

Is there anybody
at the Hotel Olympos

who's not a criminal?

[Dog growling]

Do you feel redeemed, monsieur?
Hmm?

Does this atone for the death
of Lucinda?

Because that was a bit
of a mess, wasn't it?

[Chuckles]

I heard you say the words,
Poirot,

promising to protect her.

You poor man's Hercules --

so vain, so...

ineffably smug.

And...

you failed.

Don't turn your back on me.

I shall find you.

I shall not hide.

I can't believe

you are so cruel.

POIROT:
I am not the Law, Countess.

ROSSAKOFF: Hercule.
Spare my daughter.

L...

Spare her, as years ago
you spared me.

Please.

Lyubov moya.

No, Countess.

Poirot, he is not your love.

He is...

Poirot.

Then I shall accompany
my daughter.

I bid you
da svidaniya, Hercule.

A love like ours

could have burnt down a city.

Such a waste.