All language subtitles for S12E04 The Clocks-en

[ Introduction to "Kiss a Dream"
Plays]

♪ I never thought
I'd meet a dream ♪

♪ And she'd kiss me good night ♪

♪ But here I am,
and there you are ♪

♪ Love never felt so right ♪

Good night, Annie.

- Good night, Fi.
- Oh, Annie?

Will you be going down
the Bluebell tonight?

No, not tonight.
Tired.

Early night?

Oh.
I wish it was early.

[ Chuckles ]

See you tomorrow.

♪ When I see your smiling face ♪

♪ I know that dreams come true ♪

♪ Once... ♪

COLIN: Well, tonight's
my lucky night, gentlemen.

I thank you all for turning up

with your pockets
full of donations

to what I can assure you will be
a very worthy cause.

♪ ...is here with me ♪

♪ Yet I'm wide awake ♪

-[ Telephone rings]
- I will raise you.

Let me see.

What kind of folks
do we think you've got?

Do you have the kind of daddy
who will pay your debts?

OFFICER:
Lieutenant Race.

Excuse me, chaps.

[ Indistinct conversation]

Race.

You must come now.

Fiona, darling, I can't.

I need 2O more minutes, sweetie.
It's -- It's a good night.

It's her, Colin. She's taking
something from the map room.

COLIN: 20 minutes, then
you've got me for a lifetime.

You won't be able
to get rid of me.

- She's rolling it up --
- Fiona, listen.

2O minutes,
and then we can celebrate.

But just wait.

Right.
Where were we?

Good night.

Good night, ma'am.

[ Breathing heavily]

ANNABEL:
Fiona!

Fiona, come here.

Fiona!

Fiona, come here.

Fiona! Stop!

Come here.

- What are you doing?
- I saw you.

- I saw you take the papers.
- Come back with us.

Get away!

Stop!
Please!

Stop!

[ Tires screech ]

[ Indistinct shouting]

[Clock ticking ]

Subtitling made possible by
RLJ Entertainment

And so, madam,
may I ask you a question?

You may, but I might not answer.

My mother told me it was rude
to answer a question

before 6:00 in the evening.

[ Laughter]

Especially from Swedish
gentlemen, Herr Hjerson.

But I am Finnish.

I wish you would finish.

I'd like to go and get myself
a drink.

[ Laughter]

Do you not think that the murder
of your husband...

Lipstick.

HJERSON: ...scarlet lipstick
on his collar,

-the Bible on his desk...
- The Good Samaritan.

HJERSON: ...open at the page
of the Good Samaritan,

-the word "Revenge"...
- Revenge.

...written in his blood
on the blotter

is littered with what we call
in Finnish ”puna si/li"?

- Red herrings, madam.
-[ Sighs ]

Red herrings!

[ Dramatic music plays]

[Applause]

[ Indistinct conversation,
laughter]

WOMAN: She's terribly suspicious
in my book.

No, it's the vicar.

Never trust a vicar
who wears shorts.

WOMAN #2:
Isn't Ariadne Oliver clever?

I didn't think fiction
was your thing, Poirot.

Oh, mon die...

It is my friend Colin.

But it has been so long.

Good evening, sir.

How does your father,
my good friend Colonel Race?

- The old man's fine.
- Ah.

Enjoying his retirement.

Another whiskey for my young
friend, s'il vous plait.

- Thank you.
-[ Bell rings]

MAN: Ladies and gentlemen,
please take your seats.

COLIN:
I need your help, sir.

But of course.

I realize that this meeting,
it is not a coincidence.

I imagine that you sought me
at my apartment

and George, mon valet,
told you where I could be found.

But if I may,
you have the appearance

of such a one who has traveled
this evening a great distance.

- Ah. Dover.
- Ah.

Can we talk after the final act?

I don't want to ruin
your enjoyment of the play.

Oh, no, no, no, no. For Poirot,
the play, it is over.

With my dear friend Mme. Oliver,

the puzzle,
it is not so intricate.

No, no, she is not
in the same class

as, par example,
M. Garry Gregson.

You are acquainted
with his books?

Of course.

A/ors, let us find
somewhere here to sit,

and you'll permit me
to help you, mon ami.

- COLIN: There's a girl in Dover.
- Uh-huh.

She works in one
of those secretarial bureaus.

You know,
a typist place you ring in

and you hire a typist for
an hour or whatever you want.

And how does she call herself?

Sheila Webb.
Are you all right?

Ah, oui, oui.

Poirot, he listens.

Anyway, yesterday
a very strange thing

happened to Sheila Webb.

NORA:
4 and 6.

I only got them yesterday
from Jolly's,

and the heel snaps off
like a twig in a storm.

Here, Sheila.
Have a look at this.

4 and 6 from Jolly's.
I strut off to lunch.

And the heel snaps in a grate
like a twig in a storm.

Aren't you supposed to be
typing up

Mr. Levine's manuscript, Nora?

"Naked Love."
Yes, Miss Martindale.

Then put your shoes away
and get on with "Naked Love."

Miss Webb, may I have a word?

"Desire had him in its grasp.

With frenzied fingers,

he tore the fragile chiffon
from her breasts

and bent her over the soap --"
What?

I've had a call
from a Miss Pebmarsh.

She wants a stenographer
for 3:00.

She asked for you particularly.

Have you worked for her before?

I can't remember doing so,
Miss Martindale.

19 Wilbraham Crescent.

I can't remember going there.

Well, it's you she asked for,
for 3:00.

Have you any other appointments?

Oh, yes.

Professor Purdy at 5:00
at the Castle Hotel.

[Telephone rings]

Cavendish Secretarial Services.
One moment, please.

Sheila, Miss Pebmarsh said
if she's not there,

the door's not latched.

You're to let yourself in
and wait.

Good afternoon.
How may I help you?

COLIN:
So Sheila goes.

And she really doesn't recognize
the place.

Wilbraham Crescent is one
of those quiet streets

away from the seafront

where everyone keeps themselves
to themselves.

[Gulls crying]

Hello?

Miss Pebmarsh?

Sheila Webb here from Cavendish.

Miss Pebmarsh,
if it's all right,

I'm gonna sit in the front room.

[ Cuckoo clock chimes]

Is somebody here?

I-ls somebody in my house?

There's somebody in this room.

Who are you?

Don't step on him. He's dead!
You're gonna step on him!

Who are you?

[ Sobs, screams ]

- Oh, please help me.
- What is it?

He's in there.
He's dead and...

He's dead,
and he's just lying there dead,

-stabbed on the floor.
- Who's been stabbed? Calm down.

- In there!
- Someone's dead in there?

Yes.
Please help me.

I will help you.
I will help you.

Are you saying there's
a dead man lying in Number 19?

- Yes.
- All right.

Well, let's go in.

No, no.
No, no, no.

Then let me go in.
And then I'll call the police.

- She's in there, too.
- Who?

Miss Pebmarsh.

Right.
Well, sit down and, uh, breathe.

Stay here.
I will help you.

Yes.

Miss Pebmarsh?

Who are you?

I'm Lieutenant Race.
I was passing by.

There's a dead man
behind my sofa.

How did this happen?

I don't know.

Who is he?

I don't know.

I live alone.
I came home from work.

There was an hysteric
in the house.

She left screaming.

And I find a dead man
behind the sofa.

You're very calm.

When you saw what I saw in
the Great War, Lieutenant Race,

you know a dead man is not
something to be scared of.

If you will invite
the young hysteric in,

I'll make her a cup
of sweet tea.

I'll call the police.

Very good.

POIROT:
Who was this dead man?

COLIN: Well...it's much stranger
than that, Poirot.

Was he known
to Mlle. Sheila Webb?

Apparently not.

No, I've never seen him before,
Inspector.

And you're positive about that?

Miss Martindale said to come
here for 3:00 and let myself in.

And then I noticed the clocks,

and I thought I might have got
the wrong time.

And then, just before
Miss Pebmarsh arrived,

I noticed the man lying there.

Have you worked
for Miss Pebmarsh before?

No.
And that's the thing, sir.

She asked for me specially.
I don't know how she knew me.

Sir.

We can't find the murder weapon.
There's no knife.

HARDCASTLE:
He's a Mr. R.H. Curry,

Metropolitan
and Provincial Insurance.

I don't know him.

Stay here.

I've never heard the name Curry
or the name of his firm.

Were you expecting
any visitor today?

No. And I've never seen
this man before.

HARDCASTLE:
Take him away.

COLIN:
Just the typist you ordered.

I didn't order a typist.

What are you talking about?

You didn't ring up the Cavendish
Bureau at lunchtime today

and ask for the services
of Sheila Webb?

Certainly not.

And I've never heard
of a Sheila Webb.

Where were you at lunchtime?

I work part time at Mr. Wright's
photography studio

on the parade --

taking bookings,
seeing people in.

Lunchtime can be quite busy.

And you didn't call
the Cavendish Bureau?

No, young man, I did not.

I did my shift and returned home
as usual just after 3:00.

I know I wasn't late

because I heard my cuckoo clock
as I approached the door.

What about your other clocks?

Why were they all set
to 13 minutes past 4:00?

What other clocks?

Your four other clocks
in the sitting room.

There are no four other clocks
in the sitting room.

Just my cuckoo clock.

POIROT:
And Mlle. Pebmarsh --

Does she always keep unlocked
her door?

You're thinking, I imagine,
of her neighbors?

- Oui.
- They saw nothing.

On one side there's a cat lady

who literally could speak
of nothing else.

Tiddly-Pops likes chicken, and
Copenhagen loves his kidneys.

Don't you, COPGY?

COLIN: On the other side, a
brother and sister -- academics.

They saw nothing at all
during lunchtime.

At the back of the house,
there's no access at all.

And Mlle. Martindale?

It wasn't Miss Pebmarsh
who rang me?

Did you take the call yourself?

Yes.
At about a quarter to 2:00.

And I put her in the book.

POIROT:
These clocks --

Definitely they do not belong
to Mlle. Pebmarsh?

That's what she says.

Eh, bien.
It is a puzzle.

But there is something else
that puzzles Poirot.

You.

Why was Colin Race
in Wilbraham Crescent

at 3:00 yesterday afternoon?

And why do the police permit

that you should ask questions
during the interviews?

And why is it that your eyes

are inflamed with crying,
my dear friend?

I have a commission in the Navy,
but I'm...

But I'm MI6.

Under Dover Castle,
ever since the Napoleonic Wars,

there's been a series
of tunnels.

We're in the process of turning
them into a bombproof HQ

where the Navy
could police the Channel from

were things to come
to a second war with Germany.

I've been trying to locate
a German mole amongst the staff,

and three nights ago,
I found her.

Annabel Larkin.

She was followed,
and she was killed,

along with the woman I loved,
Fiona Hanbury...

...who died
because I wasn't there.

Amongst Fiona's things,
I found this.

POI ROT:
A crescent.

The letter "M."
61.

I think it's a note as
to where Fiona followed Larkin.

Or where the contact was.

I checked out the Crescent Pub,

and the half dozen
Crescent Roads in Dover.

Yet, and were you
checking out Wilbraham Crescent

at the very instant
that Sheila Webb,

she runs out of Number 19?

Yes.
I was checking again.

It was closest to the scene
of the accident.

And I may sound crazy,

but I don't believe
it was a coincidence.

I believe the man dead
in Wilbraham Crescent

must be connected
in some way to Annabel Larkin.

Possible.

And I don't believe
what the police are thinking.

That Sheila Webb is a murderer.

- I see.
- She's the main suspect.

She was the one
that found the body.

She's the one they can place
alone in the house.

I saw how scared she was
when she ran out.

- Please help me.
- I know she's not a murderer.

I will.
I will help you.

And I will not let
another girl down

because I was unable to help.

Good morning, gentlemen.

Well, it seems this is a time
for cooperation

between the Navy and the police,
don't you agree?

We want to flush out

what remains of this German cell
in Dover.

Intelligence tells me
it could well be connected

with the murder
of this insurance agent in --

where was it? --
Wilbraham Crescent.

That hasn't been verified yet,
Admiral.

It's not Wilbraham Crescent?

No, that he was
an insurance agent.

Inspector, may I introduce you
to Hercule Poirot,

who Lieutenant Race
has requested be brought in

-to help this investigation.
- Well, I think we can --

I've verified this with
Whitehall and Scotland Yard,

and they tell me
he is a private detective

of excellent reputation

and that we're lucky
to have him on board.

If that's what I have to work
with, that's what I work with.

Any ideas, Mr. Poirot,
just pop them in the pot.

Merci.

It seems that if we solve one
of our problems here,

we'll solve the other.

Monsieur, may I have a word?

Admiral.

Inspector.

HAMLING:
I remember your days

from the Belgian police force,
monsieur.

Or at least your reputation.

When did you leave?

After the Great War.

Yes.

Do you know what they called

this stretch of the Channel
during the war?

POIROT:
Hellfire Corner.

And it will be again

because there will be
a second war, Poirot.

And if Germany invades,
this is where they'll come.

What was stolen the other night

were the plans of our minefields
between here and France.

It is essential that those plans

are recovered before they leave
these shores, monsieur.

If Hitler sees them,

then the front door of England
will be wide open.

You'll find us
very organized here, Mr. Poirot.

Very thorough.

Only last year we dealt
with the suspicious death

of a taxi driver,
and Scotland Yard made a point

of admiring
our attention to detail.

Evidence, as you see,

is documented
in a system of my own devising.

The prime suspect has her own
board, as does the victim,

where we will build up
detailed profiles.

But for me,
the key is this diagram here,

and the key phrase
for my investigation is,

"Someone will have seen
something."

Oui, c'est tres bien, ga.

HARDCASTLE:
As you can see

from the unusual design
of the street,

it is actually a crescent

that doubles backs on itself,
Mr. Poirot.

Oui.

All of them knew
Miss Pebmarsh had a set routine

and the house would be empty
in the middle of the day.

POIROT: Ah.

And who lives opposite
Mlle. Pebmarsh at Number 61?

Mr. and Mrs. Bland.

A M. Bland?

Already that arouses
my suspicious.

Oh, no, no, no, no.
He's a good man.

Built my mother-in-law
a fireplace, actually.

I had London run a check on him
straightaway, sir.

He's as clean as a whistle.

And the murder weapon,
it has been recovered?

Urn, no, no.

And there was no sign
of a struggle

in the house of Mlle. Pebmarsh?

Absolutely not.

Then I would like to interview
the neighbors today, if I may.

Already done.

- There are the statements.
- Non.

Poirot would like to ask
questions of his own.

Yes.
Already done it.

Non.

I would like to ask questions
of my own, Inspector Hardcastle.

Of course you would.
Of course.

These are the clocks?

Yeah, and we're on the sniff

to find out where
and when they were purchased.

Dresden china clock.

A French thing.

Yeah. Ormolu.

And the silver carriage.

Where is the fourth clock?

There were only three clocks,
sir.

Unless you count
the cuckoo clock.

No, no, no.
I do not count the cuckoo.

There was a fourth clock,
a traveling clock.

- And on it the name Rosemary.
- That's right.

Don't tell me we've lost
a clock, for goodness' sake.

When I boxed the evidence, sir,

there were definitely
only three clocks in that room.

SHEILA: Well, of course
I remember the Rosemary clock.

Have the police lost it?

POIROT:
Perhaps.

- Perhaps it is stolen.
- Why?

I do not know, mademoiselle.

I cannot think it would be
of any value.

No, it was a shabby thing.

The ormolu was pretty, though.

Oui, oui.

Thank you.

Non, non, non.
Non.

Merci.

I'll have them both, then.

Mademoiselle, the
Lieutenant Race has told to me

that these last few days have
been for you quite an ordeal.

Yes.

It's not the shock
of seeing a dead man.

That passes.

It's the terrible suspicion
the police have of me now.

Did you see that board
he had up, Poirot?

He had nothing on it.
No evidence, nothing.

Have you told to the police

the truth in everything,
mademoiselle?

Of course, sir.

Then you have no need to worry.

I need to get back to work.

And so should we.

Will you be all right
getting back, Miss Webb?

Yes, I'll be fine.
Thank you.

Mademoiselle?

Do you know
what means the name Rosemary?

No.

It means "remembrance."

Oh.
Remembrance.

[ Chuckles ]

Goodbye.

Au revoir.

Merci.

I saw and heard nothing
on the day of the murder

until I heard the girl scream.

Tiddly-Pops was having
one of his turns, you see,

and I was singing to him
to calm him down.

[ Cat meows ]

You seem a bit agitated
yourself, monsieur.

Shall I sing to you?

Non, non, non.
Merci, madame.

Tell to me, if you please,

do you have much contact
with Mlle. Pebmarsh?

HEMMINGS:
Oh, no, no.

She keeps herself to herself

and does terribly well
for a blindy.

I see her pass by the window

to and from the photographic
studio regular as clockwork.

I think if she were a cat,

she'd be one of T.S. Eliot's
practical cats, don't you?

Oui.

[ Sneezes, sniffs ]

Madame, do you think I might
possibly see your garden

and so remove myself from here?

Oh, yes, yes.

Have you realized that if you
write T.S. Eliot backwards,

it spells "toilets"?

Well, almost.

Copenhagen pointed that out
to me, didn't you, Copey?

[ Cat meows ]

The bane of our neighborhood
are the Mabbutts.

Number 62.

He has girls with catapults.

In fact, I heard Miss Pebmarsh
have hard words with Mr. Mabbutt

just the other evening
about their behavior.

May I ask,
was there any connection

between the murdered man
and Miss Pebmarsh, Lieutenant?

I believe not.

Oh.

That's unusual, too.

So he just came there
to be killed, did he?

Miss Pebmarsh is as quiet
as a church mouse,

-isn't she, Matthew?
- Yes.

We hear neither hide nor hair.

We told
the other inspector this.

I don't know
why we're being asked again.

She would have left her house at
11:00 on the day of the murder

and got back at 3:00.

Yes. Well, that's her routine.
I'm sure everyone knows that.

And it is during that time
that M. Curry

would have entered the house
and met his death.

Tell to me, if you please --
Before the girl screamed,

did you hear perhaps
any sound of a struggle?

We don't know this man,

and our studies are at the back
of the house, Lieutenant.

We're academics, you see.

RACHEL: And neither my brother
nor I heard anything at all

during luncheon.

We like this street
because it's quiet, also.

Yes.

The only trouble we've had
is that Mrs. Hemmings.

The cat lady?

She might play
the scatty old dear, Lieutenant,

but scratch the surface,

and she's a poisonous old bitch,
believe me.

Rachel, we must get back
to work.

Yes.

Good day, gentlemen.

- Good day, madame.
- MATTHEW: Good day.

Well, it's like
every other street in England --

full of people who keep
themselves to themselves

while hating each other
at the same time.

You should know we've had a --

Well, I was gonna say
a breakthrough,

but actually it's the opposite.

The name Curry has turned out
to be bogus,

and the Metropolitan and
Provincial Insurance Company

does not and never has existed.

Was there anything else found
on the dead man --

uh, labels on his clothes
or a wallet?

All the labels were cut out.

We have no idea at all
who he is.

This is most extraordinary.

Can I tag along
with you for a while?

Someone will have seen
something, remember?

Yes, of course.

Uh, bien, now we go en arriére,

to the rear
to a M. and Mme. Bland.

[Sniffs]

I don't recognize him, no.
Do you, Joe?

No.
I wish I did.

And we've never had anything
to do with the blind lady.

You read about these murders,
don't you,

Jack the Ripper,
"Brides in the Bath" Smith,

and you think, "if only I'd
been there, seen something.

Stopped it in some way,
or if I couldn't stop it,

at least been useful
to the police afterwards."

And now there's one
in our neighborhood,

and we just didn't look out
the window at the right time,

did we, Valerie?

Well, you'll often find

there's an element of luck
in police work.

Witnesses looking out of windows
at the right time and...

That's it.
It's luck.

It's like --
like falling in love.

It's just lucky that
you were there on that night

and she was there, and it was
luck that bought you together.

And where is it that you met
your husband, Mme. Bland?

Well, she was an actress,
weren't you?

I was quite low at the time.

And, uh, it just so happened

that Valerie was playing "The
Mikado" in Dover, weren't you?

And we'd always go
to the same pub after the show.

JOE: And I went there
just to get out the house,

and, well, luck struck.

(Test formidable.

This is all very lovely,

but if we can get back
to the investigation --

Why weren't you working
on the day of the murder?

Oh, well, I'm almost retired
now, Hardcastle.

I've still got the van
just to keep my hand in,

but Valerie inherited, uh,
well...

A little bit of cash.

Well, a lot, actually.
[Laughs]

From her Canadian family.

Pardon.
You are from Canada, madame?

Well, I haven't lived there
for -- What is it?

Oh, well,
it must be nearly 2O years.

Is it 20?

Yes, and she lost her accent
when she went to drama school.

Ah.

With the money,
I don't have to work.

COLIN:
That's a bit of luck.

Luck again.
It's everywhere.

Luck struck.

Luck struck, you see.

[Sighs]

Although it didn't strike
for this poor fellow.

CHRISTOPHER: It's a pity
the Blands weren't murdered,

don't you think?

Or the entire neighborhood.

That cat woman struggles for a
reason to exist, if you ask me.

Pebmarsh lives in a netherworld
all of her own.

And those Waterhouses
are a bit too quiet,

a bit too hush-hush,
if you know what I mean.

No, I don't know the deceased.
Sorry.

POIROT: I do not know
what you mean, M. Mabbutt.

I don't trust people who read
or write books, M. Poirot.

Never have.

It's folks like that got
the world into the mess it's in.

Were you here at lunchtime
on the day of the murder?

I was, which is unusual.

I'm often away in the week and
leave everything to the nanny.

My wife has passed on.

I work for Armstrong Ordnance.

We have contracts
with the French.

I spend most weeks over there.

Your country is
as badly prepared for war

as ours is, Poirot.

I'm Belgian, not French.

- Are you, now?
- Oui.

A Walloon.

Well, Belgium won't last a week

if it all goes belly up,
will it?

HARDCASTLE:
Have you been visited

by anyone selling insurance
in the last week?

I told your constable all this.
No.

And I didn't hear sounds of
a struggle or some such either.

Can I show you some pictures
of some clocks?

I've left them inside.
Will you accompany me?

What do I have to look
at clocks for?

To see if you recognize them,
sir.

They're central to the murder.

Very well.
If I must.

I would get your contacts to
investigate that man, mon ami.

I'm on it, yes.
Regular trips to the Continent.

That's normally
exactly what we'd look for.

But he's helping arm the French.
He's hardly pro-German.

But the letter "M"
on the note of Mlle. Fiona --

It could be Mabbutt.

Mabbutt lives in Number 62,
Poirot, not 61.

Oui.
That is true.

I'll check on the Blands'
finances as well.

Make sure they got that windfall
the way they say they did

and it's not been channeled
from some continental bank.

Bon.

[Girls laugh]

Is that the garden
of Mlle. Pebmarsh?

Are you trying to work out
who killed that man?

Oui.

Were you playing here on the day
that he died, mademoiselle?

Our nanny grounded us
for two days.

- We kept hitting the cats.
- Ah.

So she kept us in.
We missed all the fun.

A/ors, you call yourself
Mlle. Jenny.

And how do you call yourself,
mademoiselle?

May.

And how do you call yourself?

Hercule Poirot.

That's not a name.
It's a noise.

A/ors, Mlle. Jenny and
Mlle. May, will you help Poirot?

Merci.

I've been through this with
the police already, M. Poirot.

- Oui, mademoiselle.
- And I did not make that call

requesting the services
of Sheila Webb.

Have you ever used a secretary
from the Cavendish Bureau?

I may have lost my sight
in the last 15 years, monsieur,

but I have not lost
my self-sufficiency.

Have you ever had any dealings
with the bureau?

Well, I know where it is
on the parade.

I pass it every day.

And some of the secretaries

may have been in for portraits
with their sweethearts,

but apart from that...

Your M. Wright
is an artist most fine.

I believe he is.
Yes.

One of the clocks
found in your house

has gone missing, Miss Pebmarsh.

A small traveling clock

with the word "Rosemary"
engraved on the --

If I may, Inspector.

Mlle. Pebmarsh,
would you tell to me, please,

your glaucoma --

Is it hereditary
or brought on by the trauma?

I drove an ambulance
in your neck of the woods

during the war, monsieur,

and was temporarily blinded
by the blast of a shell.

I regained my sight only for it
to gradually deteriorate.

My sympathies.

I don't seek sympathy, monsieur.

Non.

NORA: Miss Martindale
is this way, gentlemen,

but do watch your step.

There's half-finished romances

lying all over the place
in here, isn't there, girls?

Oh.
Tomorrow's inquest, Inspector.

- HARDCASTLE: Yes.
- How early

would you recommend
we get there?

Only we're all terribly excited,

and, well,
we wouldn't want to end up

with seats down the back,
would we, Miss Martindale?

It's not a football match, Nora.

An inquest
is a serious legal procedure.

Oh, I know.
It's like a public hanging.

I'm sorry, gentlemen.
Please come in.

May I introduce Hercule Poirot?

- All right.
- Enchanté, mademoiselle.

Merci.

I typed up a bodice ripper last
year about a public hanging,

and it was so thrilling, well,
you'd wonder

-why they put a stop to them.
- Yes. Thank you, Nora.

Miss Martindale,

would you again go over
the events of the phone call

from someone
purporting to be Miss Pebmarsh?

Yes.

Yes. I was sitting here
when the call came through.

I made a note in the book,

-and then I --
- POIROT: Mademoiselle?

If I may ask, did you do
the typing for Garry Gregson?

Yes.

Yes.
I was his private secretary.

I set up the bureau with the
money he left me after he died.

But I am a reader most admiring,
mademoiselle.

Oh.
I still manage his estate.

All of his papers are here,
published and unpublished.

"Bachelors in Peril."

Mm.
Certainly one of his best.

Oh, for goodness' sake.

A puzzle most intriguing,
but it did not confuse Poirot.

Mm.

-"The Train at the Station."
- Ah, oui.

The hair of the mustache
on the cocktail glass, uh?

The three pairs of shoes,
size 6,

all designed to throw one
off the scent, huh?

But not Hercule Poirot.

Is there any chance
we can get back

to the real police work here?

- How is your afternoon?
- Miserable.

Miss Martindale is as suspicious
of me as the policemen.

Has your funny little friend
found out who did it yet?

But if you ask me,
Pebmarsh could easily be lying

about not making
that phone call.

That's what I've been thinking.

The body was found in her house.

She could easily have pinched
that clock.

And whoever stole it must be
connected because it's...

What are you doing this evening?

Avoiding people.

Yeah.
Me too.

I've got to go back to the
castle, but after, would you --

Do you want to avoid
meeting people together?

Yes.

Good.

"How did you become blind?"
"Where did you fall in love?"

"What's your favorite
Garry Gregson novel?"

What on earth have these got
to do with the investigation?

- Probably nothing.
- So why ask them?

To gather information.

What information?

Police work is facts, alibis,
evidence, not gossip.

How did any case
get solved in Belgium

while you were in charge?

Through the listening,
through observation.

And every case, it was solved,
I can assure you.

Mademoiselle.

It's been a long day.
I'm sorry.

Can I give you a lift
to your hotel?

Ah, oui, merci,

but is there a hotel that you
would recommend, Inspector?

Because I have not had the time
to make the reservation.

And also I must telephone
to George, mon valet,

for my valise.

Yes, I know a good one.
The Travellers.

I'll stand you a drink.

- You coming?
- Can you drop me at the castle?

Of course.

You're in for a treat,
Mr. Poirot.

We'll get a missing-persons
campaign out on Curry,

pictures in the paper,
bobbies at the train station.

The whole works.

Someone will have seen
something.

Oui.

Inspector, this bar, does it
have a menu for the cocktails?

That's the finest brew
on the south coast, mate.

The key now is to find the
identity of the murdered man.

Is this the best hotel in Dover?

Yeah.

Let's line a few more
of these up, shall we?

Terry?

COLIN:
[Laughs]

SHEILA:
What are you laughing about?

Poirot.

I left him at the Travellers Inn

looking like a petit four
in a chip shop.

He was trying to keep it in,
but he's having 4O fits

at the thought
of having to stay there.

[Laughs]

It's nice to see you laugh.

Will you tell me
about the girl who died --

Fiona?

Fiona.

And then will you tell me
about you?

[ Indistinct conversations]

BARTENDER: Sir.

H-Hello?

Is that the Castle Hotel?

Bon.

I wonder, do you have available
for a few days a suite?

Oui.
Hercule Poirot.

Non, non, non.
Hercule.

Oui.

Poirot.

That will do.
Merci.

I'm telling you, Mr. Poirot,

Sheila Webb made that call
to Martindale.

But there is no reason
why she would.

There is no evidence.
There is that.

But in my gut, I think
once we have the evidence,

it will point to her.

But do you not think,
as does the Admiral Hamling,

that the murder is connected

in some way
to the theft of documents?

Ah, oui?

Merci.
bientét.

- Merci, monsieur.
- No, I don't.

That's Navy talk.

They think everything's
related to the coming war.

There will be no war.

But I think the man will have
a link to Sheila Webb.

She arranged to meet him there
and killed him.

But with what motive, Inspector?

The clocks and the 4:13
and the Rosemary

will all come back to her.

I've seen girls
like that before,

and they're manipulative.

And let's see how she does
under pressure

at the inquest tomorrow.

SHEILA:
I'm adopted. I have no one.

I was adopted
by an elderly couple

who had no children
of their own, and...

Well, they're dead now.

It's times like this I long
to have a family to go home to.

Do you have a sweetheart?

No.

Damaged goods.

I don't think so.

You talk of Fiona

in a way I don't think
anyone has ever talked of me.

That's nice.

This is nice, Colin.

RACHEL: Aah!

MATTHEW:
What is it?

[ Both speaking German ]

How do I look?
Is this too red?

I don't want to appear
a dubious character.

The inquest will be full
of plainclothes detectives

eyeing the faces of the crowd,

surreptitiously looking
for giveaway signs --

at least that's what happened in
Garry Gregson's "Dusty Death."

Do you remember that,
Miss Martindale?

MARTINDALE:
Thank you, Nora. Yes, I do.

NORA: That's how they caught
the murderer.

Gave himself away
with a nervous twitch.

Will you elbow me if I start
twitching involuntarily,

Miss Martindale?

I'm worried
about twitching involuntarily.

Used to be a habit
of my mother's.

Have you polished
my new brogues, Valerie?

Have you polished my brogues?!

I'm sorry.

I do not want to miss a word
of this inquest.

By the back door.

Thank you.

I don't want to go, Joe.

Get your coat on.

Just get it on.

Come on, girls.

[ Indistinct conversations]

Best seats in the house.

- Sheila.
- Hmm?

It'll be all right.

No. Don't.

What's wrong?
It'll be fine.

They're very dry -- inquests.

You just rattle the facts out.

This arrived for me
this morning.

I received the call
from a Miss Pebmarsh

at about a quarter to 2:00,
during the lunch hour.

She was most particular

in requesting the services of
my employee, Miss Sheila Webb.

I made a note in the book,
and then I checked

Miss Webb's other appointments
for that afternoon.

Well, I wasn't the one
who made the call

to the Cavendish Bureau,
I assure you.

I merely arrived home from work
just after 3:00

and found a young lady
in my front room

suffering from a fit
of hysterics.

She ran out of the house,

and then I discovered the body
behind the sofa.

SHEILA:
I spent my lunch break alone

in the little cafe
on the corner of the parade,

and I must have got back
about quarter past 2:00

and left immediately
for Wilbraham Crescent.

I entered the house,
as instructed,

and noticed all the clocks
in the sitting room were --

Well, they were wrong.

This threw me a little, and
I-l checked my own wristwatch.

And then...l saw the legs
of a dead man I didn't recognize

sticking out
from behind the sofa.

If it pleases the court,
I'd like to read a statement

from the report
of the police surgeon

which has been handed to me.

"After a thorough examination

of the contents
of the deceased's stomach,

I conclude that he had not
had lunch but had had a drink

and that the drink had been
spiked with chloral hydrate" --

a process known
as a "Mickey Finn," your honor.

He'd been drugged
before he'd been stabbed.

Would you like to come
and have a cup of tea, dear?

No, thank you.

VAL:
Must have been a terrible shock.

Well, if you'd like
a cup of tea,

my name's Val,
and we're at number 61.

Thank you.

How long before he was stabbed

was our M. Curry drugged
with the chloral hydrate?

The surgeon says

the effects of the drug can last
up to four hours.

So he was almost certainly
drugged at another location

and then taken
to Number 19 Wilbraham Crescent.

Let's talk about this
back at the station, Poirot.

Inspector Mr. Hardcastle?

It was exactly as was said
by Mme. Hemmings --

"He just came here
to be killed."

Inspector?

- What is it, miss?
- I'd just like to speak to him.

He's going back
to the station now,

if you want to contact him
there.

- But I don't see how what she --
- Yes, thank you, madam.

What she said
couldn't possibly be true!

COLIN: If Curry was killed
in a different location,

that puts Pebmarsh
back in the frame.

- Not at all.
- Even a blind woman

can stab a drugged man
in the heart.

The time of his death

is estimated at between 2:00
and 3:00.

And I have literally millions
of witnesses

who saw her at the photographic
studio during that time.

I exaggerate
through excitement, obviously.

But Sheila Webb arrives there --

what do you think to this,
Poirot? --

through a booking she's made
herself by ringing Martindale,

stabs the fella,
raises the alarm.

You didn't see
how scared she was

when she came out of that house,
Hardcastle.

- Didn't I?
- COLIN: How she's been set up

every step of the way.

Look at this.

[Telephone ringing ]

"Remember 4:13."

Someone is definitely putting
the frights on her.

- Inspector...
- The only thing missing

is that it's not written
in blood.

JENKINS: Inspector, there's
a Nora Brent on the phone

who would like to speak to you
regarding the inquest,

and, urn, and we have someone

who has an identification
of the dead man.

Tell her to ring back later.

Ah, Mr. Bland.
Please come in.

JENKINS: I'm afraid the
inspector is busy at the moment.

I need to speak to him,

because what she said
couldn't possibly be true.

S-She was lying at the inquest,
you see.

JENKINS:
I'm sorry, madam,

but it's just not possible
at the moment.

I'm gonna come 'round.

JOE:
I've seen this man before.

I didn't know it, but then
I saw the girl at the inquest.

Which girl was this?

The girl Sheila Webb.

Now, I'd definitely seen her
before.

It was like having
a sixth sense of déjé vu,

which is a feeling
I'd not previously experienced.

And where had you seen before
the Mlle. Webb?

JOE:
Well, uh, Mrs. Bland and I

were at the fine-art fair
at the Castle Hotel.

Uh, now that our pockets
are a little deeper, Hardcastle,

we get invited
to things like that.

And, uh, Sheila Webb
was walking through the foyer,

having come from upstairs --
with a man.

[ Chuckles softly]
This man.

When was this?

The day before the murder.

Are you sure?

Of course he's sure,
Lieutenant Race.

It's not everyone
whose judgment has melted

-in the face of a pretty girl.
- What are you suggesting?

Thank you for coming,
Mr. Bland.

I am questioning your ability
to think professionally

about a young woman
you were seen kissing

moments before
the coroner's inquest.

Shall we go and talk to her?

Jenkins, we need to get down
to the parade

and find Miss Sheila Webb.

You think she did it, don't you?

At this point in time,
Poirot, he rules out nothing.

Oh, doesn't he?

Well, I know she isn't involved.

I know she's a good person
who needs our help.

The world is full of good people
who do bad things, mon ami.

[Gulls crying]

MAN:
So, where are you gonna go?

SHEILA:
I don't have anywhere to go!

Don't know what I'm gonna do!
Don't -- Don't touch me!

MAN:
Sheila...come back inside.

I don't want you to follow me,
because this all stops now.

- Come back inside.
- Do you understand?

Come back inside, Sheila.
Come on. Calm down.

[ Indistinct conversations]

WOMAN:
We were just walking past.

W-We didn't know.
We just looked inside the box --

[ Screams ]

HARDCASTLE:
Who is it, Jenkins?!

Nora Brent, sir. She was trying
to talk to you earlier.

Will someone please get them
to stop hurting my girls?

Will you get it to stop?!

WOMAN: [Voice breaking ]
Oh, lovely Nora.

HARDCASTLE:
Using her exact words,

what did Nora Brent say
to you, Constable?

She said she couldn't see
how what she said could be true,

that she was lying
at the inquest.

And this is Sheila Webb

-she's talking about?
- I believe so.

But she didn't mention her name?

Constable Jenkins,
are you absolutely certain

that those were her exact words?

It is very important.

I'm sure, yes.
I think so.

L-It was busy.
Everyone was on their way out.

Miss Martindale, Sheila Webb
was seen with the dead man

at the Castle Hotel
a day before the murder.

The Castle Hotel?

That would be
during working hours.

Did she have
an appointment there?

Well, she often has
an appointment there.

She had a regular client
who resides at the Castle Hotel.

And I use the word "client"
with all its meaning, sir.

Sheila Webb has a habit
of inappropriate familiarity

with some of our male clients --

a Professor Purdy, especially,
who resides at the Castle Hotel

and who requests her services
at least once a week.

He's bought her gifts,
I believe.

Perhaps you've noticed
a silver wristwatch,

which a girl like Sheila
couldn't possibly afford.

Oui, mademoiselle.

It would not be at all surprised
to hear that she had been seen

with other gentlemen
at the Castle Hotel.

That's a disgraceful
insinuation.

Is it, Lieutenant?

Surely, you've been aware

of the effect Sheila Webb has
on a certain type of man.

Tell to me, if you please --

Has Mlle. Sheila Webb
or Mlle. Nora Brent

ever worked on the estate
of Garry Gregson?

HARDCASTLE:
Not again.

Who cares
about Garry ruddy Gregson?

Can't you see the case that is
building in front of you here?

No, monsieur.
I deal with all matters Gregson.

Merci, mademoiselle.

Come on.

Where is it that you go,
Inspector?

To show
the dead man's photograph

to the Castle staff, of course.

- Are you coming?
- Non.

- No?
- Non.

I don't even begin
to understand you, Poirot.

GUARD:
Good evening, sir.

COLIN:
Good evening.

HAMLING: What news
have you got for me, Race?

Well, I ran checks
on the residents and neighbors

of 61 Wilbraham Crescent
as well as I can,

-and there seems to be --
- And what did you find?

Not much, if the truth be told.

The Blands have come into money,

but as you can see
from these bank transactions,

it's genuinely an inheritance
from Canada.

The call on Mabbutt next door
was of interest to us

because he travels extensively
on the Continent.

Yes.

Mabbutt works for
Armstrong Ordnance, doesn't he,

who supply the French army
with weapons?

- He does.
- So not your usual German spy.

No.

- Anything else?
- Not as yet.

Does this second murder
on the parade

have anything to do
with Wilbraham Crescent?

- Yes.
- In what way?

L-I don't know.

You don't know much,
do you, Lieutenant?

Does Poirot?

Not yet.

Maybe this business
in Wilbraham Crescent

has nothing to do with the leak
and Fiona Hanbury's death.

Maybe you're wrong, Lieutenant.

I don't think so, sir.

Well, you have one more day, and
then I'll bring in other agents.

Do you understand?

FIONA:
Is that mine?

Yes.

Where did you find it?

I'm sorry I wasn't there
for you.

What do you mean?

On the night you died.

Let me get my hat and my coat.

Let's go down the Bluebell.
Then let's go to my house.

- All right?
- All right.

Stay here.

JENKINS:
Do you recognize him?

Has he been in the hotel
any time in the past week?

WOMAN:
I don't think so.

JENKINS: Possibly accompanied
by a young lady --

a Miss Sheila Webb.

I cannot believe that poor girl
was murdered in broad daylight,

where anyone could have seen.

It sounds
a most desperate crime.

POIROT:
Oui. Most desperate indeed.

Tell to me, if you please --
After the inquest,

did Mlle. Nora Brent
say anything to you?

No.
Why would she?

So you did not know her at all?

She had not made, perhaps,
a visit to the studio here

with a sweetheart?

I don't recognize the name,
but it's possible.

Appointments are usually made
in the man's name.

- Ah.
- You're welcome to look.

Mr. Wright keeps copies of every
photograph he's ever taken,

and he's been here
over 3O years.

Oh, merci, mademoiselle,

but I do not think
that will be necessary.

Does M. Wright develop
his own portraits?

Oh, yes.
He does everything here.

If he sends out to a lab,

the results
are never as professional.

Oui, cf accord.

Ah.
"Pebmarsh."

So you have had taken
your own portrait?

No, monsieur.

These are my sons.

They passed through here
during the war

and sent a portrait back to me.

They are most handsome.

Yes, they were.
They were.

I volunteered for service
after I lost them

and then, after the war,
came here.

And it pains me to think,
monsieur,

that if this peace
does not hold,

there will soon be
another generation of boys

in these files,

who send photos
back to their parents...

but never get home.

SHEILA: Hello.

[Gulls crying]

COLIN:
Where have you been?

Can I be with you tonight?

Ah, Poirot.
Just in time to help.

We've had over 200 responses

to the picture of the dead man
in the paper.

We're trying
to cross-reference them,

see if the same name
keeps coming up

or the photograph fits.

Could they not identify him
at the Castle Hotel?

No. Nothing.

They knew Sheila Webb
and Professor Purdy,

but I think the Blands must
have seen them and got mistaken,

too eager to help.

Do you agree?

No.

I do not think it is important
who he is...

but who he is.

Right.

Well, I'm not gonna rise
to that one.

Bonsoir.

Oh, the clocks, Poirot --
all bought from the same stall

in Deal Market
within the last month.

No l.D. on the buyer, though.

All bought there except the...

The Rosemary clock.

Yes.
The Rosemary.

Just as I thought.

Thank you, Inspector.

"It's not important who he is
but who he is."

"Not important who he is
but who he is."

Anyone understand that?

[Clock ticking ]

Most extraordinary.

Forgive me,
but unless I am mistaken,

you must be Professor Purdy.

Where did you go
after the inquest?

I want the truth.

For a walk on the front.

It could easily have been me who
made the call to Miss Pebmarsh.

Easily me who killed that man.
I could've done it all.

I mean, there's no proof
that it wasn't.

I just needed time
to think what to do.

But when I made my way back
to work, I saw Nora was dead.

I knew I'd be blamed for that
as well.

I left Dover this afternoon
and wasn't gonna come back...

-which would have been bad.
- Yes, it would.

You need to see the police
and clear your name.

Yes, I know.

You believe I'm innocent,
don't you?

You believe it wasn't me.

I'm gonna get us both a drink.

There's glasses
in the kitchenette.

SHEILA:
These small ones?

Yes.

When did you get this?

-I --
- When did you get it?

Colin, I --

I'm taking you with me
to the police station now.

Now.

HARDCASTLE: Where did you get
the murder weapon?

All right.
Where did you get the clock?

Unless I am mistaken, Inspector,

Mlle. Webb received the clock
when she was a child...

...for her birthday.

Or was it Christmas, perhaps?

SHEILA:
When I was born.

The home told me it was a gift
from my mother,

who I never knew.

What are you talking about?

POIROT: Rosemary is
the first name of Mlle. Webb.

Is that not so?

Mlle. R.S. Webb.

Yes.

POIROT:
Rosemary Sheila.

And yet you choose to use
your second name, non?

HARDCASTLE:
May I continue?

Oui. Bien sOr.
Pardon.

If the clock was yours,

what was it doing
at Miss Pebmarsh's house?

She does not know, Inspector,
which is why she stole it.

[ Clocks ticking ]

[Sighs]

[ Metal rattles ]

Ah. The spring --
It is broken, n'est pas?

So it is possible
that a few weeks previously

you took it to the jewelers
to have it repaired?

And then, what, you lost it.

And the next time you see it,

it is at Number 19
Wilbraham Crescent.

And there is there a dead man.

The police --
They are everywhere.

And so you think to yourself,

"Why is someone trying to
frame me for murder?"

And then you notice that all
the clocks, they spell 4:13 --

the number of the very room
in the hotel

where, in your loneliness,
you have begun a love affair

with a man
who does not care for you.

And so you think to yourself,

"Why is someone trying to expose
my shame?"

And you do not know.

And the knife?

I suspect that you have
never seen this before,

or else almost certainly
you would have got rid of it.

Inspector, may I ask a question?

Of course.

Will you be answering it
as well?

Mademoiselle,
when you returned from lunch

on the day of the murder,
Mlle. Nora Brent --

- What was she doing?
- Talking.

- Nora was always talking.
- About what?

I strut off to lunch.

And the heel snaps in a grate
like a twig in a storm.

So now we make the progress.

And in which grate was it did
Mlle. Nora Brent break her shoe?

Yes, which was it?

Let's bring the grate in
for questioning, shall we?

Inspector, as you told to me
only yesterday,

can not you see the case that
is building in front of you?

Not the case about the grate,
no.

I don't know
which grate it was, sir.

[Clears throat]
She's here, Inspector.

Who's here?

One name came up five times
in response to the newspapers.

Then the dead man's widow
rings up

and says she wants to come in
to identify the body.

His name's Harry Castleton.

Put this one back in her cell,
Constable.

This is far from over.

MERLINA:
[Clicks tongue ] That's him.

That's Harry.

When's the last time you saw
your husband, Mrs. Castleton?

15 years ago.
And he wasn't much of a husband.

I don't even know if Castleton
was his real name.

He said he was in insurance.

But that was just a ruse

so that he could travel around
and run scams on lonely women.

I gave him the heave-ho

when I discovered
that he was engaged to that...

Schoolteacher she was.

But by then, he had taken me
for all my savings.

Did your husband have
any distinguishing marks?

No.

Yes, he did --
um, behind his left ear.

He cut himself shaving once.

Made a terrible mess
in the sink.

Thank you for coming,
Mrs. Castleton.

I don't use that name now.

My name is Rival --
Merlina Rival.

It was my stage name
before I ever met my husband,

and I reverted to it
the moment he disappeared.

This murder gets more
complicated by the minute.

Mais oui.

Which can only mean one thing,
mon ami.

The solution --
It must be very simple.

Where are you going?

Well, I feel it is necessary

to speak once again to
the cat lady -- Mme. Hemmings.

Why?

HEMMINGS:
What an excitement, everybody.

The big French tom's paying us
another visit.

I am Belgian, madame.

Please sit yourself down,

although you might find the sofa
a little damp.

Tiddly-Pops is sometimes tiddly
by name as well as by nature.

Would you like me to fold up
a bath towel

and put it on the seat?

The dampness takes time
to seep through then, I find.

Madame, you told to me that,

in the garden the other evening,
you overheard hard words

pass between M. Mabbutt
and Mlle. Pebmarsh.

Yes.

Why was that unusual?

Well, because he's never there.

And when he is,
he's very polite --

a lovely man.

It's that bad-tempered nanny

everyone usually has
ding-dongs with.

Can you remember what was said?

Well, you were there,
weren't you, Copey?

PEBMARSH: We need to do it now,
Mr. Mabbutt!

MABBUTT: Not with them swarming
all over the place, no.

PEBMARSH: It will all be wasted
if we don't act now.

She was talking
about her plants, I imagine,

the way those girls trample
all over them.

And this discussion,

did it take place the evening
after the body was discovered

in the sitting room
of Mlle. Pebmarsh?

No, it was Wednesday,

because we'd all just enjoyed
"Band Wagon" on the wireless.

But it was Wednesday
that the body was discovered.

No, Tuesday, thank you, yes,
because I noticed

the laundry van pull up
to her house at lunchtime.

The laundry always arrives
on Tuesday.

VAL:
Monsieur! Hello!

Hello.

Hello.

Mrs. Bland.

Ah.
Mme. Bland!

I hear on the jungle drums that
you've identified the dead man.

Well, shall we say the police,
they are confident.

- That's wonderful.
- Yes indeed.

Oh, tell to me,
if you please, madame,

from where in Canada are you?

It is simply that I have
some friends in Montreal,

and I wondered if you knew them.

Oh, not the French-speaking
part, no.

Edmonton it was.
Alberta.

Ah. Je suis déso/é.
How foolish of me, huh?

Did you find that
when you were coming over here

everyone would say to you,

"I know someone in England --
Newcastle...

- Please to say hello"?
- Oh, yes!

- People can be so silly.
- Well...

But it was natural for me
to settle in Dover because

-this is where my sister lives.
- Ah.

- As well as meeting Joe here.
- But of course.

Well, I'll let you get on,
monsieur.

But that's wonderful news
about the identification.

Yes indeed.

Madame.

[ Snap, girls laughing]

We did what you asked.
Do you want to come and see?

Oui.

Mlle. Jenny, Mlle. May, tell
to me what is it you have found.

Coins.

Coins?

About two and six.

Ah, but that's very good.

And you found all this
in the garden of Mlle. Pebmarsh?

But you haven't seen
the best thing yet.

But that was in our garden,
not hers.

What is the best thing?

Ah.
S'il te plait?

Merci.

[ Metal rattles ]

[Telephone ringing ]

You may have known him under
a name other than Castleton.

No, sir.
No.

And he was putting pressure
on you for money, maybe.

- Maybe he was blackmailing --
- JENKINS: Sir. It's Poirot.

HARDCASTLE:
[ Sighs 1

Hard castle.

Inspector, it is a matter
of urgency

that you dispatch
but immediately a telegram

to Somerset House.

It is also a matter of urgency

that I continue to interview
my prime suspect.

So will you go away
for 1O blinking minutes?

Non. And you must release
Mlle. Sheila Webb.

- Release her?
- Oui.

It is evident to Poirot
that she is not guilty,

but I will need her help
to prove it.

Also, I will need to speak
to her

over the telephone
but immediately

after I have given you
instructions for Somerset House.

What is going on, Poirot?

I will tell to you everything
that Poirot has discovered,

but you must promise to release
Mlle. Sheila Webb

and act according
to my instructions.

[Sighs]
Go on.

You must get Somerset House
to verify the marriage record

of Harry Castleton
to Mlle. Medina Rival.

And you must also get them
to verify something else for me.

COLIN: This is Annabel Larkin's,
I'm sure.

And this was discovered
in Mabbutt's garden?

Also, I learned
from his daughters

that this afternoon,
he intends to travel to France.

You must prevent this.

No. You've got the wrong end
of the stick.

Trawling through the histories
of the neighbors, we found this.

The Waterhouses,
with their perfect English name,

their perfect English voices,
are German.

They came over in 1936
from Munich.

They changed their name
from Tuchman.

But of course they are German.

Well, did you not notice
the slips in the way they spoke?

We like this street
because it's quiet, also.

POIROT:
The use of the word "also"

at the end of the sentence.

A mistake most common

in even the most fluent German
when they speak English.

Why didn't you say?

Because they cannot be
connected, Lieutenant.

Maybe they buried this
in Mabbutt's garden

-to draw us away --
- No, no, no. No.

M. Mabbutt and Mlle. Pebmarsh

were overheard
on the evening of the murder.

We need to do it now,
Mr. Mabbutt!

Not with them swarming
all over the place, no.

It will all be wasted
if we don't act now.

POIROT:
It was presumed

that they were arguing
about the children.

But non, Poirot thinks not.

Poirot suspects
that they were talking

about the police that
were now in the neighborhood

and the importance
of getting the stolen documents

to their contact
on the Continent.

Miss Pebmarsh?

Consider this.

The note that was made
by Mlle. Fiona

on the night
she followed Larkin.

It would have been made
in haste, huh?

A piece of paper pulled
from her handbag, a scribble.

What does it mean?

Number 61?
No one knows what it means.

Exactement, mon ami.
Exactement.

So, if you please?

Perhaps Poirot is correct
when he does this.

COLIN:
19 Wilbraham Crescent.

Mlle. Pebmarsh.

[ Door closes ]

Can I ask you where
you're going please, M. Mabbutt?

- Why are you asking?
- Routine.

Well, I'm taking
the Calais ferry

in three-quarters of an hour

and have business in France
for the next three days.

- Good day to you.
- Will you step over

to the car, please, sir?

Just a minute of your time.

MABBUTT: What is the meaning
of this, Lieutenant?

Bear with us, sir. I apologize
for the inconvenience.

[Bell rings]

Good afternoon.

Good afternoon, mademoiselle.
It is I, Hercule Poirot.

And w-what can I do for you,
monsieur?

Bien, mademoiselle,
I have reason to believe

that Mlle. Nora Brent
may have visited the studio here

to have a photograph taken
with a gentleman.

And I wondered if I might take
you up on your offer most kind

to have a look through
your records.

Of course.

Not knowing the gentleman's
name, I suppose it would be best

if you were to start
at the beginning of the alphabet

and work your way through.

Oui, cf accord.

Then you should begin here.

Merci.

[Sighs]

Fine weather for a crossing
today, sir.

How long is this going to take?

Just a few minutes more.

What have we here?

Get off!
Get off!

Get off!
Get off me!

Would you like a cup of tea,
monsieur?

Non, non, non.
Non, merci, mademoiselle.

I think I have found
what I am looking for.

Already?

Oui.

I thought that the sweetheart
of Mlle. Nora Brent

had a name at the beginning
of the alphabet,

and luck, it has struck.

[ Bell rings, door closes]

Millicent Pebmarsh,

I'm Lieutenant Race
of the Royal Navy,

and I'm arresting you
under suspicion of high treason.

Would you please accompany me?

[ Indistinct conversations]

So, let's have another one,
then.

Come on.

Mrs. Rival?

Oh, hello.

I've said everything
I had to say,

and I'm back to London
on the 2:15, so...

Thanking you.

Chin-chin.

Can I ask when Harry Castleton
cut himself shaving?

Well, I don't know when.

When we were together.

15 years ago?

I told you I haven't seen him
for 15 years.

- Didn't you take notes?
- The police surgeon tells me

it's a much more recent scar --
perhaps only two years old.

Well, I remember him doing it.

So your police surgeon
is incorrect, your honor.

Mrs. Rival, you know that
perverting the course of justice

carries a maximum prison
sentence of four years?

Which is why I don't do it.

Is this your correct address
in London?

I believe it is, yes.

Good.

[ Typewriter clicking ]

Oh, Sheila.
Nice to have you back.

I've been typing UP

some of the work that Nora
left unfinished on "Naked Love."

Now that you're back,
perhaps you could take it over.

Of course, Miss Martindale.

Well, the manuscript's
in my office.

It's lunchtime, girls.

COLIN: Quite an operation
you had going here.

Larkin would steal
the documents.

Pebmarsh would make a copy.

And Mabbutt would make a drop
somewhere in France.

And all of you recruited
by the Waterhouses.

Non, Lieutenant.

[ Laughing ]
The Waterhouses?

You were doing quite well
until you mentioned that scum.

Excuse me.

- What are we doing here?
- Are we under arrest?

Why did you change your name
from Tuchman to Waterhouse?

Why are you living in England
under false identities?

Weil wir Juden sind.

What?

We are Jewish.

This is England.

Why are you disguising the fact
you're Jewish?

Do you think that anti-Semitism

doesn't exist here as well,
Lieutenant?

This is our third English city
in the last two years.

RACHEL: When you have lived
through what we did in Munich,

Lieutenant, at the first sign
of it, you move on.

All we want
is to live our lives quietly,

without threat,
without prejudice.

The irony is, Lieutenant,

it's in our country's interests
to have peace with Germany --

to stop the Communists
creeping ever westward.

We are patriots
who pass information to Hitler

because if Chamberlain's policy
of appeasement doesn't hold

and someone like Churchill
gets his hands on power,

we will be dragged into a war

a hundred times worse
than the last one.

And in that scenario,
the quicker Germany knocks out

a weak liberal England,
the better for all Europe.

Or what would remain of Europe
under the Nazis.

Monsieur,
you have not seen your country

overrun by foreign tyranny.

I have.

And I tell you, monsieur,

that I value the "weak liberal
England," as you call it,

as a country
well worth the fighting for.

But you won't do the fighting,
will you, monsieur?

It will be the young boys again.

And if I can save one life
by keeping this country weak

so it cannot engage in war
with Germany,

then I will be proud
of what I've done.

Fiona Hanbury had a life.

I think people like that are
called collateral, Lieutenant.

They die for a greater good.

Please! Stop!

[ Tires screech ]

The man found dead
in Miss Pebmarsh's sitting room

also had a life, Mabbutt,
as did the secretary Nora Brent.

No, sir.

M. Poirot and I
don't believe those deaths

had anything to do
with these people.

In fact, if we're correct,

Inspector Hardcastle is,
at this moment,

making an arrest
in that murder investigation.

He practically put a black cap
on his head

and gave me four years,

I'm not gonna go to prison
for four years.

I won't do it.
[ Sniffles ]

Well, I want more money --
more than the £200.

No, I want more.

All right. I know where that is.
I'll meet you there.

JENKINS: Where do you think
she's heading?

HARDCASTLE:
Down to the seafront --

if she can stay upright.

[ Both chuckle]

Can you see her?

- No.
- Where'd she go?

[Woman screaming ]

Sir.

So, now we are all assembled.

What's this about, Inspector?

Mr. Poirot would like a word.

Ah, but first, please,
to sit down, all of you.

Please, Mlle. Martindale.
M. and Mme. Bland.

Mlle. Sheila Webb.

I thank you all very, very much
for coming here this evening.

We had little choice.

Oui.

This has been a puzzle
most intriguing

which has tested Poirot...
but not found him wanting.

So first, if I may,
let us take a look at the facts.

We have a telephone call
made to the Cavendish Bureau,

requesting the services
of a secretary by name --

Mlle. Sheila Webb --

a telephone call
that nobody admits to making.

She arrives in a room
full of clocks

that nobody admits to owning.

But all of these clocks, they
spell exactly the same time --

4:13 --
which has no significance.

She finds there a dead man with
an identification that is false

and who is impossible to trace,
because nobody knows him.

I hope you will agree with me on
these facts, Mlle. Martindale.

Yes.

Mme. Bland?

I don't understand

why myself and my husband
have been summoned here.

All will become clear, madame.

Then we have
the note most threatening

that was sent
to Mlle. Sheila Webb.

We have the second murder,
that of the poor Nora Brent,

who was a colleague
of Mlle. Webb.

And we have
the identification definitive

of the dead man, down to
the scar behind his left ear,

A gentleman who apparently
was seen in the hotel

with Mlle. Sheila Webb,

a man who preyed on women
who are vulnerable.

And then we have complication
upon complication.

We have evidence
that is totally circumstantial

that builds and builds
into a wall of proof

against Mlle. Sheila Webb.

But Poirot, he realizes
that in amongst this --

What is the word
for "obscurisement"? --

this -- this dark cloud
of matter,

there is one fact
that can be proved.

Is that not so, monsieur?

Which is what?

Which is the eyewitness,
Lieutenant Race,

who saw a woman so frightened,
so bewildered

that it was not possible for her
to have committed murder.

It was the Lieutenant Race
who also who led Poirot

to the solution when he said
of the note most threatening...

The only thing missing is
that it's not written in blood.

Mes amis, there are moments for
a detective when the light...

it goes on.

Where had I heard before
that expression?

Cheap thriller on the stage?

Exactement, mon ami!
Exactement.

...the word "Revenge" written
in his blood on the blotter...

Hélas!
The cheap thriller, right?

The plots that are complicated.

The usual diet
of the Cavendish Bureau,

Mlle. Martindale,

and it made me to think
of la pauvre Mlle. Nora Brent,

a young woman who was killed

because the heel
of a shoe broke...

Fiddlesticks!

POIROT: ...2O yards
from her place of work,

which meant that she returned
early to her desk

in her lunch hour that day.

She knew that the telephone,
it did not sound.

She knew that
there was no telephone call

from Mlle. Pebmarsh

requesting the services of
the secretary Mlle. Sheila Webb.

I received the call
from a Miss Pebmarsh

at about a quarter to 2:00,
during the lunch hour.

NORA: I don't see
how what she said could be true.

JENKINS:
Yes. Thank you, madam.

What she said
couldn't possibly be true!

POIROT:
So she had to be silenced.

[ Gasping ]

POIROT: Is that not so,
Mlle. Martindale?

That is ridiculous.

No more ridiculous
than the cheap thrillers,

the plots that are complicated

that you had spent your life
working amongst.

Lunchtime, girls.

POIROT: And it was at the
instigation of Hercule Poirot

that Mlle. Sheila Webb,
she made the search

of the papers
of the estate of Garry Gregson,

and she found this short story
that Poirot, he remembered.

It is full of clocks,
identifications that are false.

There is even a buildup
of evidence

to frame a person
who is innocent,

who felt so implicated
in a crime they did not commit

that they became frightened
and irrational

and therefore
more suspicious to the police.

It is all here, mademoiselle!

You could not even think
of a plot of your own devising!

Oh, except, pardon, for the
addition you made of the clock,

the Rosemary clock

that you stole from the handbag
of Mlle. Sheila Webb

when she took it to the jewelers
to be repaired.

Is that not so?

And then you frighten her
with a number --

4:13 -- the time of the clocks,
but also the room in the hotel

where Mlle. Sheila Webb
conducted her love affair

that was to you oh, so shameful.

But she is not what she seems,

because for Mlle. Sheila Webb,
her love, it was real.

Why would I want that man dead
in Wilbraham Crescent, monsieur?

I didn't even know him.

Do you know what this is,
Mme. Bland?

It is the death certificate
of the first Mme. Bland.

Not you,
but a woman from Canada.

The woman who inherited
all of the money.

When the inheritance
came through,

Joe said no one would know.

They didn't know
his wife was dead,

and all we had to do was --

Shut up, Val!

-shut up!
'[ Gasps]

[Grunts]

HARDCASTLE:
So, who is the dead man, Poirot?

I do not know, Inspector.

But as I told to you before...

...it is not important
who he is, but who he is.

And Poirot suspects
that he is a friend or relative

of the first Mme. Bland

who left Canada, came
to this country to look her up.

This was a man

who knew that the money had gone
to the wrong woman.

A man who, if murdered,

would become
almost impossible to trace

for the police in England.

Mme. Bland, you said
something strange to Poirot.

But it was natural for me
to settle in Dover

because this is where
my sister lives.

Your sister, Mme. Bland --

Your sister,
who is as Canadian as you are.

When the letter
from his wife's uncle arrived,

Joe said he and Kathy
could work it out.

He could rig the old van up
to look like the laundry.

Ah, yes, of course --
the laundry van

that was seen to arrive
by Mme. Hemmings.

But it arrived on the wrong day.

It arrived on the Wednesday

-instead of the Tuesday.
- Yes, you see,

because they wanted to dump him
at the blind woman's.

Find a mark on his body
and get a Merlina to verify it.

Who you knew from your days
in the theater?

Come on in.
This way.

I hope this isn't
an inconvenience.

Oh, not at all.

There. Look. He has a scar
behind his left ear.

[Grunts]

Kathy said she knew
how to make it work,

that there was a young tart
at the bureau

who no one would miss,
who would deserve it.

She said she'd set her up,
it would be all right.

They said there would be
no reason

for the body to be at the blind
woman's house with Sheila Webb

and it would just confuse
the police.

It would be confusion
upon confusion,

complication upon complication.

JOE:
[Grunts]

VAL: Joe had worked so hard
all his life for nothing,

and the money was so huge --
It -- It was so huge!

[ Man groans]

[ Clocks ticking ]

But they made me do it --
They -- They made me

put the knife into Sheila Webb's
bag at the inquest.

If you'd like a cup of tea...

They made me press Merlina
to come and lie,

to falsify the marriage
and falsely identify the body

and -- and -- and then,
when she was scared, to...

to come to the seafront
so they could kill her!

[Voice breaking] It was only
going to be the one death.

It was only going to be the one!

[Sobs]

[Gulls crying]

[ Door closes ]

All right, madam.
In the back.

Thank you.

Mademoiselle.

HARDCASTLE:
Thank you, Mr. Poirot.

And if you're staying in Dover
tonight,

I'd very much like
to stand you another pint.

Well, that is most kind of you,
Inspector,

but it is tonight
that I travel to London.

But if you should ever
find yourself there,

if you please to look me up, I
will stand for you the cocktail.

Right.
Pleasure to know you, sir.

- Inspector.
- Lieutenant.

M. Colin, do I have to tell you
to go after her?

No.

Then go after her.

[ Footsteps approaching ]

COLIN: I've only known you
a few days...

...and already it's like
we've fallen in love,

married, had seven children,
divorced,

met again
under peculiar circumstances,

married,
had a few more children,

divorced...

She must have hated me so much.

Shall we start again, Sheila?

Yes, please.

Let's start again.

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