Original subtitles

The Wailing Wall, Jerusalem. 1934

He said four minutes precisely.

Quickly, move.

Two perfect eggs this time, no?

Maybe.

I blame the chicken.

Why do hens lay eggs of different sizes.

It's not you, " Mon'Amie." These are two perfectly cooked eggs.

Mr. Poirot...

I have got 3 religions bent on riot.

If you are going to perform one of your miracles, the time is now.

Have the eggs.

Poirot!

Sorry for the, um...

It is not the...

It is the imbalance of the...

Right.

That's better.

Excuse me. Let's move on Make way, please.

For the accused.

The rabbi...

the priest...

and the Imam.

It is like the... old joke, yes?

The rabbi, the priest and the imam.

Forgive me, I'm Belgian.

So, let us begin.

In the church of the Holy Sepulcher above us!

Three representatives meet under the supervision...

of the Chief Inspector of the Police to discuss a divided timetable for market use.

One hour after this tense meeting...

a priceless relic is found to be stolen.

It is said one of these three men has stolen it.

The police find no pieces of evidence at all.

I find one.

On the meticulously well kept wall of a fresco...

a single crack from an indelicate client..

With a hard-soled shoe or perhaps a boot.

So, ladies and gentlemen, we must ask...

Who stands to benefit from the crime?

Our three holy men live humbly.

They have thin soled shoes, poor.

Sudden riches and rubies would be...

too conspicuous, yes? To enjoy, they do not getting it.

At this point, we need, an armed guard at the south gate,

Thank you very much.

Now, the only one...

who benefits from the theft and the unrest it causes...

is a man whose office I had searched this morning...

As I waited, I have to tell you, rather disappointed upon my breakfast.

Difficulty with the eggs. You don't need to know this.

A man who is paid lavishly to keep order in Jerusalem.

I mean, of course, the Chief Inspector of the Police.

A man who does not wish to lose a well-paid post...

when there is discussion among the local people of self governance...

who does wear boots, and do I believe now does regret...

inviting me to consult on this case.

How dare you accuse me?

Police sergeant...

Did you search the office as I asked?

Ah... Yes sir.

And did you find what I said you might?

Yes sir. Just as you said.

You must deliver that to the, captain. It'll be the first thing in the morning.

I got it sir.

Luggage is on board, sir.

I want the right to escort you to your boat.

To Istanbul, then? Will you be back to London straight off?

I'm tired, and I've earned myself a little holiday.

I want to look at paintings and have too much time on my hands.

You're staring. Does it stop?

It's just...

How did you know it was him, sir? From just a tiny crack on the wall.

I have the advantage...

I can only see the world as it should be.

And when it is not, the imperfection stands out...

Like the nose in the middle of a face.

It makes most of life unbearable.

But it is useful in the detection of crime.

But it's just like you see 'em through their hearts. And divine their true natures.

And whatever people say, there is right there is wrong.

There is nothing in between.

We must part here.

No, sir, I am to escort you on ferry.

We must never meet again.

Could you straighten your tie please? Just a little.

- Yes - That is perfect.

Final passengers, please!

I am sorry.

We'll be reached soon.

But... Will it be fixed in time?

We are working!

I have a connection in Istanbul. Leaves tomorrow at seven.

There is a very ill patient waiting for me in London.

I'm a doctor.

Doctor.

I am a doctor.

I am shouting it you in English and now I am doing it louder and slower.

Very silly, forgive me.

May I help? Let me help.

I know your mustache.

From the papers. You are the detective Hercules Poirot?

"Hercule Poirot. I do not slay the lions, Mademoiselle."

Mary Debenham monsieur. I will forget a name, but never a face.

Not yours, any way.

You come from Baghdad?

It's true. No detail escapes his notice.

Your ticket.

I might also ask you if you enjoyed your time there...

as a governess.

The chalk on your sleeve and the Geography primar.

A governess or a cartographer. I made my gamble.

I always begin them with Geography...

and monster them until they have the world down cold.

They may get lost in life...

but I'll be damned if they don't know where they are.

Well our chains are free. Right on time.

I feel so free out here in the water.

I wish I could enjoy it.

- You should be out of this, Mary. - Not now.

When it's all over.

When it's done.

Then nothing can touch us.

Istanbul

My holiday begins here.

I can see the soul of the city in these humble breads.

The world insists on destruction, yet here...

masterpieces are baked to order every day.

Mohammed!

Mohammed, my friend...

You are an artist.

My friend!

I am sorry.

Hey, come, come.

Don't mind us, we're just looking for a place to have a private argument.

It will take some twenty minutes, or so.

I wish then we'll both come to an agreement. Or at least I will, yes.

Monsieur Bouc!

Poirot! In the kitchen.

Well, of course, this man will sniff out the perfect pastry faster than he catches...

a jewel thief.

No, I am no longer a police man, I can't bail you out when they've got you badly.

This is my dear old friend, the esteemed...

Poirot, whom I knew before the esteem. Hercule Poirot, this is...

- A prostitute. - She is.

I am. Bouc, you did not tell me you had such famous friends.

We are friends because I am the only person...

who never asks him any questions about his cases, because I don't care.

And he never judges me for being a terrible person.

Indeed you are.

Madame, Bouc, please join me for a drink, yes?

You only have me for an hour.

I ride on the Orient Express at seven. Official director business.

Uncle pays me absurdly to stay on board his gorgeous train...

and far away from him...

at the home office...

Consigned to wine and dine in handsome...

There is an art to nepotism.

And you are his Michelangelo!

Mr. Poirot.

Are you a prostitute as well?

- Certainly not. - Is this man bothering you?

He is about to it.

- You are from the British consulate. - I am sir.

It is the Kassner case.

Why, yes.

I was correct in certain predictions?

Quite.

I do not need to read the telegram.

How fun...

did someone cheat or die?

Unfortunately, both.

Someone has...

interrupted my longing for rest.

It appears that I must travel with you tonight, Bouc.

Can you find me a cabin on the Orient Express?

My friend...

I may not begin for much, but I sure as hell can get you a bed on my train...

in the dead of winter. In three days...

free of care, concern, or crime. You will love it.

Mademoiselle, it has been a pleasure.

Your luggage has been collected and your expenses paid.

You will be next at Calais...

and then escorted to Dover, and then by rail to London, Victoria.

- I would like to formally express... - Please don't speak.

You make it worse.

- Here is the tip for you pal. - Thank you, Mr. Marquez.

I didn't even carry your luggage.

I had a good week.

We celebrate when fortune smiles , and we share the good fortune.

Remember to say nice things about us Americans, huh?

No!

Hey, stop!

For you, Mr. Ratchett, the best table in the.

Just here, sir. The very best table.

I want that one.

Hey, Masterman. You got everything?

Kind of you to inquire, Mr. McQueen. I do not make mistakes.

Oh my goodness! It's Count Andrenyi.

Come come come.

I saw you dance at Monte Cristo. Could I take your photograph?

Please, not in my face, no!

Sorry.

The Orient Express!

With stops in Sofia, Nis, Belgrade, Vinkovci and Brod...

with transfers to Bucharest, Zagreb, Trieste, Venice, Milan, Lausanne...

Dijon, Paris, Bologna and Calais...

with connection to Dover and London, leaves in fifteen minutes!

This way, Michel! Precious cargo I need a first class compartment.

Give special care to my friend, Michel. I want him pampered like a zoo panda.

But Monsieur Bouc, we are fully booked. There is no place left.

Then we make space. You can have the no. 11.

The eleven is always kept open for official use.

It's very comfortable.

11 is taken. The Austrian professor booked it 2 days ago.

There is not 1 first class sleeper car in the whole train?

Negative, sir.

Second class?

There is no place left at all.

Mademoiselle Debenham.

Mr. Poirot, are you joining us?

It depends who wins this debate.

Have all the passengers arrived?

All but one. Mr. Harris.

"All passengers must check in at least one half hours prior it's time of departure...

"or their seat may be forfeit".

The half hour has passed. The seat is forfeit.

Please take Monsieur Poirot's luggage to number three, with Mr. McQueen.

Enjoy.

- Welcome Sir. - Yes.

Number three is unlucky.

Apologies, madame. I meant no disrespect to you.

Oh, you could try to mean a little..

One thing about train travel you're always knocking into somebody.

It is wonderful.

Although I am looking always to getting back.

Travel is my spicy food, mosques, meeting men...

eventually just miss your own bed.

I have been accused of husband hunting abroad.

And I can't honestly deny it,. I like my time alone, I do.

But a lady has certain needs that deserve to be met, if she has any money...

and preferably, on a regular basis.

Oh my! Fire in the kitchen!

See you later, Madame!

Good evening.

Number nine.

Good evening.

How you doing?

No, after you.

Ah, number three.

Who is it? Ah, Mr. McQueen?

Yeah. I think you might have the wrong birth.

Excuse me, is there a problem, sir?

No problem.

The train is full.

And I think that we are, how do you say? "Bunkies".

Really?

I am equally disappointed in you. This is nice.

Come along, darlings.

No.

No.

This?

Why my... unpacked?

Final call for passengers!

Shall we brush it?

What the hell is taking them so long?

Soon as we're getting out of here, have them make up the bed.

It's already fixed, Mr. Ratchett.

No, I want the bed made. And bring my Dictaphone.

Dogs on the table. It's the most disgust-able

thing I've ever seen in a while.

- Yes sir. - I want you to get McQueen...

And have him bring every receipt from the Milan sale.

- I want you to get it done. - Yes sir.

I want you to get it done now.

- Did I say get it done now? - Right away sir.

Better watch yourself.

Your coffee, Mr. Ratchett.

Who did this?

I can't say, sir.

Good evening, Mrs. Hubbard.

Hello, Mr. Masterman.

Well, hello.

Eyes linger any longer, I'll have to charge rent.

I'll pay.

Have another drink.

Are you insulted?

Disappointed.

Some men have a good look.

All they have to do is...

keep their mouth shut, and they can take on any prize they want.

Still, the mouth opens.

Is everything alright, Mrs. Hubbard?

You have a strong intuition, I know.

My second husband used to say just so.

Hold that, he was my first.

Yeah.

Brightest man I've ever met.

Face like a turnip, but I loved that turnip.

It was nice to talk.

Excuse me.

Goodnight.

Mr. Poirot breakfast.

When you take supper...

I'll move Mr. McQueen to Monsieur Bouc's compartment.

You will travel first class, monsieur.

- Bon apetite. - And the eggs?

Good afternoon.

Ah, Mrs. Hubbard.

Good afternoon.

There we are.

- Complements of the Orient Express. - Thank you, Mr. Bouc.

I am here for all of your needs.

No thank you. I do not drink.

I do not agree with you.

Sin doesn't agree with me.

Vice is where the devil finds his darlings.

We should no longer speak.

Good afternoon.

Monsieur, how about an appetizer?

I regret I have an appointment with the director of the train.

He was gonna leave anyway.

Please sir.

All settled in?

As advertised.

And yet, the best things on the train are not food.

You know? There is something about a...

a tangle of strangers pressed together for days, with nothing in common...

but they need to go from one place to another...

and never see each other again.

Boredom, plus anonymity, plus...

constant gentle rocking.

With your hobbies, you'll never amount to anything.

God I hope so.

Oh give me the fish.

Exchange grouper for soul, Es Carole for the potato, and...

the beef sauce for the velout�(Copyright).

Garcon, that sounds superb. The same for me.

The princess Dragomiroff.

You know, if I had the word to marry for money I would marry for that much money.

I brushed Dalia this morning.

No, you tortured my darling doggy.

I asked you to brush her.

You still enjoying your Dickens?

Very much, Mon'Amie.

You know, with your books and your capers, you're missing out on romance.

The romance never goes unpunished.

There was...

There was someone once.

I would prefer into future I to be sit not with that man.

Like should be seated with like. We are not alike.

Not all of us are so concerned with the separation of races, professor.

It is out of respect for all kinds that I prefer to keep them separated.

To mix your red wine and the white, would be to ruin them both.

I like a good rose.

Hey, how you doing? Would you mind...

if I join you?

Dessert is an indulgence...

and I feel kind of silly stupid, indulging alone.

I am at my happiest alone.

But...

For a piece of your fragility, pleased to join you.

Oh my. Excuse me, another fork.

I have been trying to make your acquit Mr. Poirot.

I never ever sat so close to fame before me.

Now I tell a lie.

Once I was in a bus with Ty Cobb.

Ball player, Detroit.

Would you mind if I have the little curly bit at the top?

You are not a bird though?

A strange peculiar man.

I am of a age where I know what I like and what I do not like.

What I like, I enjoy enormously. What I dislike, I can not abide.

For an instance, the temporary pleasantries before

what is determined to be a business discussion.

You're fun.

All right.

I would like to offer you a job.

"The avenger of the innocents". That's what they call you in the papers.

You are an innocent?

I am a businessman.

I am an art dealer. I mean, I am new to it.

But my beginner's luck has worked out.

Relics, antiquities.

Rugs, rare. Orientals.

I'm new to the game, so, you know, I got the amateur eye ball.

But I got a little problem with the...

so called praises.

You can't trust a one.

Some of my customers...

They buy a piece...

They find out they are not exactly original...

which is not really my fault...

if a Kashan silk scarf is a fake.

Right?

But I've managed to make a few enemies, it's the thing.

Got a few letters, people making threats.

And most likely it's the Italians.

I sold them a set of Oriental carpets in Milan.

And the buyers weren't so happy with the providence.

And they want their money back with interest, you know?

Italians.

A guinea is guinea.

And then comes along the genius detective.

Me?

- Yes you. Hercules Poirot. - Hercule.

Here is what I'd like to do.

I would like to hire you to watch my back...

until I get someplace safe.

It's easy money for you.

And it's peace of mind for me, you know?

- I understand. - Good.

I refuse.

That's bad.

I didn't make myself clear enough.

You see, someone is out to get me.

And I know I'm not the best... Not by a long shot.

And if there is a world after this, where I will face judgment, just like you.

But...

I ain't in no goddamn rush to do it.

- You are holding a gun at me? - No.

Not you. On the world.

I exist in the world. Do not point the gun at me.

How does ten thousand sound for a week?

It's a generous offer Mr Rachette. I must decline.

- Fifteen thousand? - You didn't hear me, I declined.

Oh, I get it.

It's not flashing out for the great Hercules Poirot. Huh?

Not new flash-books...

You sell fakes to gangsters. You're suffering the consequences.

I detect criminals. I do not protect them.

So you are saying no to my dirty money.

I say no to you, Mr. Ratchett.

Business with the gun, right? Is that what it was?

This is far more personal than that.

I do not like your face.

If you'll excuse me...

You liked my cake, didn't ya?

The cake was excellent. Have a pleasant afternoon, Mr. Ratchett.

Thank you.

How cold.

Mossier Katherine.

Mon'Amie.

Mr. Dickens.

Mr. Ratchett?

Mr. Ratchett?

Yeah, mossier. Goodnight.

Mrs. Hubbard?

It's always Mrs. Hubbard.

Mrs. Hubbard.

Did we die?

Ladies and gentlemen, the train has been derailed.

You alright, Mr. Marquez?

I'm fine. Thank you.

Mr. Bouc will speak to you...

All clear.

Are we going to die?

My Katherine.

My beautiful...

Ladies and gentlemen, I'm afraid that our train is still unable to go anywhere.

Yeah, except down.

How long are we supposed to just figure?

Yes, someone must be doing something.

Of course I'm doing something. I am doing nothing.

Precisely two hours and ten minutes ago,

when we didn't arrive in Broad as scheduled...

The station master will have surmised our situation...

and already sent a team to excavate the engine...

clear our path and send us on our way.

Until then, I assure you...

we will all be made warm, and, fed and comfortable.

We could walk.

We could die of exposure trying.

I have a connection to make.

My boat sails the day after tomorrow, from France.

Without you, I would wedger. Or me in London.

I hold you accountable for my loss of time, Mr. Bouc.

Madame, you can't hold me accountable for the weather.

Of course, I can. You are the one here.

And my conference in Turin?

And I was to meet a factory in Sochaux.

Yes, some things... They are in God's hands.

It is not for us to say..

If we deserve to arrive safely to our destination...

or if, like Lucifer, we must fall.

Breakfast for you, Mr. Ratchett!

Ah. Bonjour, Mr. Masterman.

There is problem?

I can't say, sir.

Mr. Ratchett?

That is cold air.

Please bring Mr. Bouc immediately, and also Dr. Arbuthnot.

Good god.

Touch nothing else, only the body.

By God, this is horrible.

First the snow and now...

I'll have to meet with the police and make some statement in some grimy station.

And a man has died.

And a man has died.

He was stabbed.

Long straight edge knife.

Multiple stab wounds, some shallow some cut clean through muscle.

Left hand side or right hand side?

That's the thing.

It appears that the killer maybe closed his eyes and struck blind.

Could you estimate the time of death?

It's hard to say with the window opened...

but my best guess is between midnight and 2:00.

But no one went to his compartment. And I sat on my seat all night.

I would have seen if someone came, It's impossible.

Thank you Doctor. Please return to the dining car.

Michel, secure this carriage.

Poirot.

I need your help, my friend.

You have to find who did this.

Please, I employ you on behalf of the Orient Express.

When the police arrives we can present them with a case closed.

You are the only one who can save me.

Your faith touches me, Mon Cher. But I must held this rest.

Well, think of it as a little beach time puzzle.

That's nothing to your mind!

You look up the antecedents of the passengers.

You will establish the Boniface And then do what you do.

You sit in a chair and you eat your cake...

and you think, until the solution present itself.

What else are you going to do while we sit here in the snow?

Without constant stimulation, your little Grey cells will starve and die.

Do you think that is what I do? I sit in the chair...

I have a little piece of cake and then I come up with a..

- I don't know what are you do. - I have my Dickens.

Damn your Dickens!

If we leave this to the police, they will choose a culprit...

Right or wrong, and then they'll hang him.

Most probably Mr. Marquez...

for no other reason, than his name is Marquez.

Or Dr. Arbuthnot, for the color of his skin.

You are the only one who can bring justice.

- Let me have a map of this coach. - Of course.

- Every passport. - Anything.

Interviews arranged with all of the passengers.

Evidence, order and method, until one culprit emerges.

I do not approve of murder, my friend.

Every day we meet people the world could have better without yet...

we do not kill them.

We must be better than the beasts.

So let us find this killer.

Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to...

It appears that, our bad luck has worsened.

That is...

A passenger has died on the train.

Monsieur Ratchett.

Looks like they got him after all.

Do you assume he was killed?

No, no.

I just meant he was in perfectly good health.

He had his enemies, that's all.

Indeed he did, he was murdered.

Oh God, a murder here?

Alas, madame.

God rest his soul.

Someone was rummaging around my cabin in the middle of the night.

Nobody would believe me.

What is going on?

As we are snowbound, I have elected to take the case...

and find for my friend, Monsieur Bouc, the criminal.

And why you?

My name is Hercule Poirot...

and I'm probably the greatest detective in the world.

I will speak to all of you in time. For the moment...

I must recommend that you remain in your compartment with the doors locked.

I feel like a prisoner here.

It is for your own safety.

If there was a murder...

then there was a murderer.

The murderer is with us...

on the train, now.

The doors between coaches were locked at night.. hmm?

Absolutely, done myself.

The train's been searched. There is no one hiding on it or under it.

We can therefore limit our investigation to the occupants of the Calais coach.

Bouc, you'll assist me.

As the only traveler who slept in another coach..

You are the only one who is not a suspect.

Mr. McQueen, is it really the time for drinking?

My boss is dead.

I am out of the job, and you're looking at me like I did it.

We make no accusations.

You knew him, so from you we need the essential facts.

Were you his relative?

No, his secretary.

Booked his travel, ordered his steaks.

Man ate more steaks than I have ever seen in my entire life.

He was in antiques.

He had no qualifications for it, not the eye, quite the languages.

Truth is, he had no head for business, accounting...

None of it.

I took care of everything.

How long were you in his employ?

Twenty days short of a year.

Prohibition wasn't to my taste...

so I found myself overseas, and in debt.

I'm a lawyer by education...

not disposition.

He was incompetent in that.

You were fond of him?

I was fond of his money.

Ratchett was crude...

demanding, insulting, and most likely a felon.

When did you last see him?

It must have been just after 10:00.

He called me in to go over our sales in Italy.

Milan, the sale of forgeries?

Yeah, yeah. He wanted to look over the accounts.

I had to translate everything else.

The contracts were in French and he didn't speak a word.

And when we stopped at Vinkovci...

I struck up a chat with the colored doctor, Arbuthnot.

We had a couple of drinks, stretch our legs.

He had some...

odd opinions about Stalin I had to turn around.

I don't hold the man's race against him, but I don't often take the Britishers.

When did your party end?

Yeah... He left just after 2:00.

Did you know of any specific enemies Ratchett might have had?

Gosh.

Pick a number.

You confide that he have been threatened?

He got a couple of nasty letters.

I have them, if you like. Some, at least.

He... Threw up the rest.

He threw them into the fire.

Merci, Mr. McQueen.

Thank you.

If we have any further questions, we will call for you again.

Have you consider the Latin man Marquez?

Hell of a guy man.

And, well, you know, his kind...

They don't have the same distest for murder, historically speaking.

You said you don't hold a man's race against him.

I suppose...

depends on the race.

He was doing so well.

- Do you think it's McQueen? - Too early to say.

I admit, I can't see him stabbing a man 12 times in a frenzy.

Not sober, any way. Who did it then?

I do not know yet. It's time we ask.

- Ask? Who? - The victim.

He has 12 stab wounds and as Arbuthnot said they are patternless.

If the doctor is guilty...

He certainly didn't let his influence his responsibility.

Hey, the watch. Stopped at 1:15.

That agrees with the the doctor on the time of death.

It is possible, yes. Certainly possible.

- I don't quite understand. - Well, I do not understand myself.

I understand nothing at all.

If you look at these two wounds...

They are powerful and deep, and yet there is little blood.

But this was a frenzy attack.

Lashing here and there, no pattern at all, just extreme violence.

And during all this, our victim, vigorous, and anxious and full of coffee...

merely lies still and accepts death without struggle...

when he also has here...

the means by which he might defend himself.

For you.

Now, let us see.

Barbital. The mickey sleep.

They drugged him so he could not use this.

And let her around here a ladies handkerchief.

An object de luxe, handmade, boom, two hundred francs in Paris.

And she even has an initial, "H".

- And our little friend, the pipe cleaner. - Another clue.

Yes, a riot of clues dropped most conveniently.

Yet only one appears, however, to be perhaps genuine.

And maybe this ashtray provides the accidental bread crumb.

The charred fragment of a note.

An attempt, perhaps, to burn the evidence.

He may borrow your equipment... Yes?

Thank you.

Now, I quick up to understand...

why a clue is left rather than of what the object is?

We seek the truth from within, not with out.

In this case, however, I may welcome a little scientific assistance.

You will adjust the flame.

Not one of those nasty letters.

You're mistaken, Mon'Amie

This one has a secret to tell.

Look.

"As a strong blood is on hand, you will die."

What does this mean?

Come with me, Bouc.

Let us fill in the gaps.

This was never a beach side puzzle.

I know the dead man's real name.

It is not Ratchett, but Cassetti.

I know that name.

Then you will also know the name Armstrong.

The Armstrong case?

History shook the world.

Two years ago...

the renowned pilot, Colonel John Armstrong...

and his wife, Sonia, woke to find their only child, little Daisy...

Desperate...

The Armstrongs paid the ransom.

But soon after, Daisy was found murdered by...

Ratchett, who was Cassetti.

Sonia Armstrong was with child when she received the news.

The shock sent her into premature labor.

Neither she, nor her baby survived.

How do you know this, Poirot?

Because John Armstrong told me so himself.

He wrote to me to ask me for my help.

By the time I received the letter...

it was too late.

He was found dead of a gunshot wound.

Self-inflicted.

"Daisy Armstrong's blood is on your hands, you will die for it."

Indeed you did.

- Monsieur Poirot? - Yes, Michel.

Mrs. Hubbard wants to talk to you. I held her as best as I could.

Uh. Mrs. Hubbard, I am sorry to have kept you.

You have a head full of steam and a mouth full of words.

You goddamn right I do. What I have been trying to...

to tell you all day.

The murderer with in my compartment last night.

I thought I would be killed. Turns out I might have been...

Only he got Rachette instead.

I woke up in the dark and I knew there was a man in my room.

You were certain it was a man?

I know what it feels like to have a man in my bedroom.

I told your conductor, and he wouldn't believe me.

I said, "Check the communicating door between my room and Ratchett's."

"He must have left through there."

Sure enough, it was unbolted.

I know I locked it after...

what Ratchett said.

He made a rather daring proposal.

Have you perhaps...?

Heard about the Armstrong kidnapping?

You couldn't avoid it.

Morbid stuff.

The child's murderer, Cassetti...

died last night.

Ratchett was that man.

I told you, I knew he was a rotten one.

You do believe me...?

About the man in my room?

I am aware that you think I'm a silly woman.

But I have proof that it's true.

Might have fallen off Michel when he was in your room.

I'm not missing it.

I found it at the foot of my bed, on the cover...

right where I slept.

What do you call that?

I call it evidence. Thank you very much, Mrs. Hubbard.

Have you ever been to America?

Once.

Years ago, briefly.

For what purpose?

- To confirm a suspicion. - Which was?

That I wouldn't like it.

I was offered a post in Boston.

From Boston went straight back to London.

- Is that where Rachette was from? Boston? - I don't know.

It wouldn't be proper...

to ask.

Carry on.

The last I saw...

Mr. Ratchett at nine o'clock.

I brought his coffee and hung up his clothes.

You have the tooth ache I think.

I have got an extraction booked in London this week.

Mr. Ratchett insisted on not putting it off any longer.

He said he was tired of hearing my suppressed groans.

This sympathetic Ratchett?

Was it his usual practice to drink coffee at night?

Not at all. But he had been very agitated lately.

He said he wanted to stay alert. Especially through the last night.

He found a letter in his compartment.

Please tell me you didn't do this.

If I am to leave something unpleasant on your pillow, sir...

It would not be a letter.

Coffee.

Surely such a...

profound and precise valet...

would never speak to his master how you did.

Unless he knew his career was coming to a sudden...

End.

Not mere tooth ache I think.

The lungs?

The thyroid.

Spread now to stomach. Ends with my father, five years younger.

Months have passed.

"Inoperable, I am afraid," said the doctor.

Suddenly I wasn't afraid.

I would only do what I wanted.

I speak my mind now.

The coffee.

It appears that his cup was mixed with the Barbital.

You of course, would tell me that you did not put it in there.

Of course I did not.

When and from where did you procure the coffee and the cups?

In the kitchen, sir.

I ordered it at dinner to be ready at 9, and so it was.

Anyone could have got hold of it before me.

Mr. Masterman.

I'm sorry about the tooth ache.

I love the little cakes.

So, Miss Pilar Estravados, you are a missionary...

but you've trained as a nurse before you change profession, yes?

I owed it to God.

You owed him a debt?

There were...

indulgent times in my life...

when I took more than I gave.

Gerhard Hardman.

Professor of Engineering.

It is science that will win back for Germany her pride.

Mr. Marquez, listen, I want to be clear of any association with the crime...

so please ask me anything.

Anything, I never lie anymore.

Did you leave your compartment at all last night?

Only once, to get an aspirin.

Mrs. Hubbard offered me something earlier.

I declined it first but when I could not rest...

I went to ask for it.

My conference is in Turin.

I am the only Austrian to present, which means without me...

the talks would be sub standard.

Then I escaped prison, and I drived myself into the United States...

where I swore never to lie or steal again.

You see my friends, because when people trust you, they buy more.

The Italians are cows. The Spaniards, sheep.

The Belgians...

Nothing, I come to my room, which I share with the unhappy English butler.

Annoying? He... Groans a lot.

But I am sure he saw me sleep all night until morning.

I should say...

in case it is relevant.

There was an embarrassing moment.

When I went to see Mrs. Hubbard...

first I opened the wrong door.

I am sorry.

What time was this?

That must have been about...

Don't be sorry.

Twenty minutes to 11:00.

This is interesting.

As far as it is known, you was the last person to see Ratchett alive.

- Your business? - Automobiles.

I have three showrooms.

I come to America with nothing. And now...

If what you say is true, Miss Debnham will confirm it.

But it is true.

I would not lie.

I would not lie.

May it be possible that Miss Debenham left your compartment without you noticing?

No. I sleep very lightly.

With the slightest sound I woke up right.

I was surprised once.

Never again.

No, I didn't say I was a chauffeur.

The photographs that spilled out of your luggage..

There was a beautiful one, the little boy, wearing a chauffeur's hat...

visiting his papa at work.

Who did you chauffeur?

Ms. Estrada, why do your hands have a calluses of a boxer?

I do my work in dangerous cities...

where I can not be governed by fear.

I trained to fight.

But you do not you trust your God anymore?

Since you had surprise?

No, in case he is busy.

God is always busy.

It's Masterman.

A man dying he is the man with nothing to lose.

Bravo, Bouc. Except for the problem of Mr. Marquez...

who has now confirmed that his bunk mate, Masterman...

was reading in his bed at the time of death.

If it were easy, I would not be famous. Next.

Miss Debenham...

You do not mind to brace the air?

For you, we have the picnic.

Oh, you made my room mate suffer cramped... I see.

Use the best location to extract the truth from each suspect.

Put her off balance, me freeze.

Clever.

Will you write on your full name and address please?

A pale move by the way.

Ms. Estravados told me you asked the the color of her dressing gown.

"Mary Hermione Debenham."

Do you ever go by Hermione?

A constant Marry when I'm not employed as "Miss Debenham." Left-handed.

Unusual, I know.

You mustn't have your theory fixed if you are testing my handwriting.

What did you think of the dead man?

I can't say. I didn't think about him.

Don't quite see the point of your question.

Forgive me, mademoiselle, they are my little originalities.

Human nature is perverse in its complexity.

To plumb it, it takes the right tools.

These are toys, not tools, Hercule.

And I prefer that you put them away.

The direct method? Parfait.

You knew the doctor before traveling?

Dr. Arbuthnot?

No.

But such an instant attraction?

We are not in America...

Miss Debenham. There are no laws against what you may feel.

Nor are there laws against silence, of which...

I'm hold my...

I have never been to America.

Perhaps I may ask about some...

words I've overheard?

You and the stranger, Arbuthnot, are closer than strangers might be.

You said:

"Not now, when we're done, then no one can touch us"

What did you mean?

Do you think I made a murder?

To a man with a hammer, every problem is a nail.

You live crime.

- You see evil every day. - No so.

I see enough crimes to know that the criminal act is the anomaly.

I think it takes a fracture off with a soul...

to murder another human being.

I ask again, what did you mean?

As we established...

there are no laws against my silence.

Very well.

And afterward, Princess Dragomiroff?

After dinner, I went to bed.

God blessed me with long life...

but cursed me with a bad back to make it miserable.

About close to 1:00...

I called for Fr�oulein Schmidt.

She massaged me...

and read me for a while. Then I sleep.

Were you ever acquainted with...

a family by the name of Armstrong?

They endured an unspeakable tragedy.

I was an admirer of Sonia Armstrong's mother...

Linda Arden, the actress.

A once a century talent.

Miss Arden was to do acting.

She would have become the first woman titan of Broadway...

were it not for the tragedy.

And this, Linda Arden, she's dead?

She might as well be.

She no longer leaves her home.

Daisy was my goddaughter.

She was...

I don's see how this relates to our trouble, detective.

The man, killed last night, his true name was Cassetti.

The man who murdered little Daisy Armstrong.

I see.

I admit, I know this family, and now that man is dead.

The coincidence...

must seem unbearable.

You may be permitted a coincidence.

I must now ask a few questions of you Froulein Schmidt.

No, there is no need.

I can answer to her character.

Even still, if you will allow.

Froulein Please answer in German.

But your Excellency does not understand.

That's what it is about.

Is this yours? H of Hildegarde?

That is silk. It's too fine for me.

Is this the truth about last night?

As she said. She sent the inspector to look for me...

Then I went back to bed.

Did you see someone when he returned?

Only the other inspector.

One who was...

"The other conductor." You mean Michel?

No. A different one.

Please come.

Are you sure you didn't see him?

I'm certain. The other conductor was a small man with a short beard.

Froulein, there is no other conductor.

I know what I saw.

I remember because his voice was high and the uniform was same exactly.

Although I suspect missing one button.

Sir, I need your pass key immediately.

We need to find a uniform and a red kimono.

Thousands of photographs, any less pair of socks...

Dressing gowns in every colors, but red...

still no contraband conduct his uniform.

Have we already checked all the passenger of luggage?

All except for the Count and the Countess Andrenyi, monsieur.

It is forbidden to search their suitcases.

They travel under diplomatic visas.

Where else could be?

There is one last suitcase we have not checked.

My own.

The killer is mocking me.

Good. His first mistake.

And as the night must follow the day...

No, it's not mine.

I told you of the conductor.

- Why would I tell you if it was me? - You would not...

which makes your compartment the ideal place to hide it.

Voila, the button.

And if the conductor's uniform...

Why not a conductor's pass key?

Now we know how the killer magically passed through locked doors.

- Bourbon. - McQueen.

Now what are we looking for?

Five hundred pounds.

McQueen also had a ledger all his dealings with Rachette.

Where is it?

Poirot?

Bouc, keep everyone inside!

Please, stop!

Mossier, stay where you are.

Thank you gentlemen. Thank you.

So, it was McQueen? You have your man?

How could he?

I didn't kill him?!

You tried to burn Rachette's accounts...

but there are illegibly places. The maths do not tally...

because you have been stealing from him.

It is full of the...

The... The English word? The chocolate?

- Fudge? - Fudge. It is full of the fudge.

You stole from him.

You thought you would be found out.

That is why you killed him!

Yeah.

Yeah, you are damn right, I stole from him.

Thousands.

I knew his money wasn't honest.

Who wondered it would matter if I skimmed some of the top?

But let me ask you a question.

Why would I slaughter my cash cow?

I didn't do it.

- I didn't kill him! - He didn't.

He didn't.

I expect his alibi revolves around me drinking till the early hours

Well, it's true.

I saw him having whiskey and remarked in the lesser quality of American liquor.

He offered me a tipple to change my mind and another.

We got to arguing politics. He had some...

tom-fool opinions on Stalin I had to correct, but the man knows his spirits.

A word, please, monsieur.

You can't confirm you were with him all night?

We smoked and spoke till nearly 2, yes.

Ah such charms, him with his cigarettes and you...

Ah yes, you are the only man on the train who smokes a pipe.

May I see your pipe and your tobacco, please?

Of course.

And you, Dr Arbuthnot, was traveling from India, I believe. Yes?

You are interviewing me now?

Were you ever in Rachett's compartment before he was killed?

Certainly not.

But this is one of your pipe cleaners, n'est-Ce pas?

If you found that in the dead man's cabin, look elsewhere.

I am a doctor, sir. I heal people, I do not hurt them.

About this, you must have worked very hard to become a doctor.

Not many of your race are allowed the opportunity.

Middlesex Medical college, permits one per class.

I had the honor in '24.

I was a sniper in my tour.

Sharp shooter.

Saved more than a few officers.

More grateful recognized a fair mind with a steady hand..

They supported my education.

I took their generosity as a debt.

Did you know of Colonel Armstrong?

Might have know two or three Armstrong.

Tommy in the sixties...

- Selby Armstrong... - No I meant, Colonel John Armstrong.

He had an American wife and his child was kidnapped and murdered.

Never came across them.

When did you first meet Miss Debenham?

We met when we shared the railway convoy cart from Kirkuk to Nissibin.

She claims otherwise, and she has made herself problematically suspicious.

Mary is a lady.

Leave her out of this. I can vouch for her.

As you have vouched for McQueen's time?

- You won't listen to reasons. - Never.

You are lucky. The good doctor insisted he did not let you out of his sight.

See? There. I could not have done it.

Yes, you could.

Rachette took a sleeping draft each evening.

You could add Barbital, easily access that drug.

Do the same with one of the doctor's many drinks..

And the chance to kill him is clear.

Why would I do any of that?

We've established your motive.

Perhaps I would suggest a different one.

A different reason, a more personal reason.

"A lawyer by education, not by disposition".

Why did you pursue the law I wonder?

Was it to appease a much loved but demanding father?

One who himself have made a great success in the same field...

and then lost his position?

There was a renowned McQueen, was that not?

The District Attorney for the State of New Jersey...

responsible for the prosecution of the Armstrong case.

They didn't have a suspect.

My dad was pressured to go after this poor French woman...

a maid with a weak alibi, Susanne.

He hung this whole case on her.

She killed herself.

She was an innocent.

By the time the evidence led to Cassetti, he was long gone.

It tore my old man apart.

I couldn't do anything for him.

And yet you claim that you did not know Ratchett was Cassetti.

No. No.

But you found him.

No.

- You found him. You bled him dry. - No.

In order to settle your father's debts and then finally, to settle...

No, no, no.

No. It was not...

It wasn't like that. It was not...

- Some one, kicking the door. - Doctor!

Covered my face!

Alright, this needs to come out now.

- I want my bag. - Of course.

It's in my compartment.

There will be no fingerprints.

The killer was disposing of the murder weapon.

The killer didn't hit her lung or artery.

She's lucky to be alive.

You all are.

Yes, some genius!

Why haven't you solved this case?

You must give the man some time here.

Yeah? Well...

I can't give them much more. I don't have any blood left.

Yeah.

Accosting Mr. McQueen and the real killer is right here.

One of you people.

I don't know who you are. I said nothing.

Please, leave me alone.

Say something.

My friends, the tracks will be cleared by the morning please.

Please return to your rooms.

I'm sleeping here..

Where everyone can see me and I can see everyone.

You should all do the same. Can't say of it..

Remain in the open, safely in view, until morning.

The killer will never hesitate to kill again.

I will convey the same message to the Andrenyi...

diplomatic immunity or not.

If you may, I will look at your passports.

You know that I must talk with her.

By the way there is a grease spot on your wife's name.

You might want to look at that.

Elena is not well.

If you do not permit me, your reluctance will be noted to the Yugoslav police...

and I have no doubt that they will arrest both of you...

- How dare you? - Honey!

You are funny looking, Monsieur Poirot.

All detectives so funny looking?

I am sorry to wake you, Madame la Comtesse.

I'm always awake at night.

In the day I sleep.

Some fear darkness, but I cannot stand the light.

You are always under the influence of...

Barbital.

Barbital, Barbital.

I take oceans of it.

Oh, there is no use in lie, love.

He can see right through us.

I can not go outside without it.

I can not sleep without it.

I take it against my fears.

What are you afraid of?

Everything.

Your passport has your maiden name, as Goldenberg.

Jewish, yes?

Not so Jewish. My middle name isn't Maria.

And you are a dancer like your husband?

No, not like my husband.

Code ballet.

He is touched by angels.

I rely by passion and hard work to become adequate.

Excuse me. I must lie down again.

Is this your only dressing gown?

No, I have another. Golden-colored chiffon.

I like speaking to detectives.

You never know what they will ask you next.

I am particularly good at capitals.

My governess was in a strict love with Geography.

He is satisfied?

I am always satisfied when I uncover a liar.

Madame, your name is not Elena, it is Helena.

Despite your clumsy attempt to change it here and in your luggage.

My husband heard of a piece of evidence found...

a handkerchief embroider with an "H", and I didn't want my "H" involved.

So we changed it. The luggage and the passport.

It's no crime to want to be distant from trouble.

Yet here is trouble.

A curious detail about the Armstrong tragedy at the heart of this case...

how many people were wounded by it.

The younger sister.

The actress mother...

stage name Linda Arden.

I suppose she too was of Jewish ancestry...

as who is most likely to take a stage name?

Is is too far to suggest?

Her original name was Goldenberg?

Especially when we find a young woman of the same age...

As her surviving daughter...

living in a world of fear.

The sister of Sonia Armstrong.

Get out!

I hear noises and I run. Just in time, yes?

You must now believe the count and the countess are the killers.

The count is protective. The countess is not someone to kill a bedroom spider.

And you may desist with this

You are never an Austrian, nor a German nor a professor.

But a good imitation. Was it based on someone you know?

I'll look a butcher when I grew up as a Kraut.

A good man, great accent.

What was it?

Said "Tu-ri�n"...

The emphasis on the wrong syllable for a proud and proper Teuton.

"Turin".

You... Are a sharp knife, I give you that.

Herr Professor Gerhard Hardman...

It's my cover.

I am sorry about the colored folks cracks.

Oh, I'm half a hid myself.

Cyrus Bethman Hardman.

You are a Pinkerton detective?

Thirty years.

I was in Istanbul, coming back from my job when the office cabled.

Ratchett asked for a man to tail him, offering triple time.

Like maybe nearby.

He told me to look out for a small dark man with a high voice.

I watched that hall...

all night through a crack in my door.

Any thug...

Had to go by me first.

I will take my oath on it.

And would you also take your oath on your 30 years as a Pikerton detective?

Or would you lie to me again...

and deny that you were, in fact, a police man first?

Your gun, the chequered grip, the blue finish...

produced for the Police Positive edition.

1927 issued.

It appears there are no end to the lies manufactured just for me.

You can leave your gun as you go professor.

From the position of his cabin,

it would have been impossible to miss.

Unless Ratchett's door was open...

as Pilar Estravados claims she opened it.

In which case, someone could have been...

masked from his view.

My dear Katherine.

This is an abominable crime.

And I'm struck, my Katherine.

I can not find the crack in the wall.

Why does one of them elude me?

I have always been...

So sure.

Too sure.

But now I am very humble. And I will say, like a little child...

"I do not know".

I'm very afraid, my Katherine.

My apologies, ladies and gentlemen.

It is not safe on board while the engine is put back on the track.

We have to wait in the tunnel. Thank you.

Where are they taking the dogs?

They will be happy.

- That's not right. - Just to stretch the legs, it's good.

No, it's not alright.

Are we stuck?

You asked for me?

Another interrogation?

Oh, no. I enjoy your company.

Ah... Please.

I have a list of ten questions I am not nearer to answering...

and the train is about to leave.

You have a clear mind...

and I thought you might produce an insight.

"The handkerchief."

"The scarlet kimono. The uniform."

"The time on the watch."

"Was he murdered then? Earlier or later?"

"By one person or more?"

"Which of them?"

Sorry, I can't help you.

Perhaps there's an eleventh question you don't know to ask yet...

that will give you the answer to the rest.

Perhaps.

I could point and easy finger at the Countess Andrenyi,

I discovered she was Sonia Armstrong's sister.

- Are you certain? - Yes

I suspect she may perhaps be innocent.

Perhaps.

But so many people have lied to me on this train, I do not seem to mind.

- You yourself did so effortlessly. - Me?

You told me you've never been to America.

You also concealed the fact that at the time of the tragedy...

you were living in the Armstrong Household...

as governess to their daughter. And you know this.

I have my living to get.

A girl detained in connection to a murder case...

No decent family would engage me.

Miss Debenham, you planned Rachette's murder.

And then you sent for the Countess to witness it.

If she saw him dead, the Helena you knew might return.

You waited for your room mate to sleep, and she did not.

You drugged her. But the Barbital only gave her a headache.

She begged for an aspirin!

When the train stopped, When the conductor was on the station...

when the coach was clear at last,

when you were allowed to enter Rachette's compartment, unseen!

You loved Daisy Armstrong. You killed Cassetti!

Cassetti was a pig.

He deserved to die.

She didn't kill him.

I did.

Mary, go.

I can't let you take the blame...

for what I did alone.

Mary, please go.

John Armstrong was my best friend, my commander.

He believed in me.

He sent me to medical school, gave me a future.

Cassetti destroyed it.

In grief, I found Mary.

And I found Ratchett.

Our plan was to avail him to the police, that's what you heard.

But when I saw his face...

I knew he didn't deserve a trial.

So, you drugged McQueen.

You changed the time on the watch...

so that you could lie about the time of death.

I couldn't let Mary be accused.

Or McQueen.

My sins are mine to pay for alone.

I am a soldier.

A soldier kills to protect.

And now, Mr. Poirot, I must protect myself from you.

Why aren't you dead yet?

Poirot?

Gentlemen, stop!

Sir, you need to get all the passengers back on the train.

You will retire...

away from the train...

until I tell you to return.

You tell your lies.

Then you think no one will know.

But there are two people who will know.

Yes, two people.

Your God...

and the Hercule Poirot.

It is time to solve this case.

Dr. Arbuthnot asked me why I was not yet dead.

He knew of course the answer.

A sharpshooter who does not kill at close range.

Your shot was not a mistake, it was a surgery.

You couldn't kill me because you are not a killer.

None of you are killers.

And, yet, someone must be.

There are two possible solutions to this crime.

One difficult, because it fits with most, but not all of the facts...

and one more...

complex.

The first solution.

Ratchett had enemies.

A rouge mafia gets onto the train at Vinkovci...

as McQueen and Arbuthnot take the air.

Equipped with a uniform and an pass key, he stabs Ratchett.

He leaves through Ms Hubbard's compartment and makes his escape.

No.

No, no, no. It doesn't work.

Why hide the uniform?

Who drugged Ratchett?

Who stabbed Mrs. Hubbard?

Damn it man!

So I ask, who is next to benefit?

This crime is murdering of a murderer.

The benefit is, perhaps...

to the spirit, an ease of suffering.

To quite a shouting voice in the head that prevents sleep.

There is a murderer among us.

So...

We have Dr. Arbuthnot, a dedicated grateful friend to Colonel Armstrong.

He meets and finds solace in the company of the governess, Mary Debenham...

who is almost like a mother to the little girl.

And so close to Mrs. Armstrong's young sister...

Helena Goldenberg.

Married to a powerful man, no stranger to rage and violence.

We travel also with Daisy's godmother...

to whom belongs...

the monogrammed handkerchief found at the scene of the crime.

The letter "H" in the Russian alphabet, of course, pronounced "N".

Natalia Dragomiroff.

And her devoted maid with the chef's eye.

Who was she before her current employ? Might I suggest the Armstrong's cook?

But we are not yet done.

The nurse in charge of Daisy...

her new found religious ill, born of guilt of allowing her child...

to be abducted. It was you...

who was in her room the night when Rachette came in through the window.

Did you have a glass of wine too many with your supper that night?

Have you blamed yourself ever since?

For not being alert to stop him?

She knew nothing but kindness...

and love, until...

until I...

No need to divine with me, sir.

I was Colonel Armstrong's bat man in the war.

And afterwards, his valet in New York.

As fine a man has God ever made.

Would his chauffeur agree?

Was it a bank loan secured by Armstrong allows him to build his automobile empire.

He is in debt for life. Who else can we count?

What of the Pinkerton detective, once a police officer?

Assigned to the Armstrong case?

And he becomes attached to some one for, there is another uncelebrated victim.

You fell in love with the maid before she was falsely accused.

You quit the police when you witnessed the...

the travesty of justice...

when McQueen's father insisted on her arrest...

when she took her own life.

No! No, no!

Susanne was a so gentle.

And she fell for me.

Old and already getting Grey. I told her she could do better...

but there she was...

on time for every date.

Why else...

is a train so full in the dead of winter?

Why the inconsistent ** Why the abundance of evidence. Why...?

Why the conductor?

Pierre Michel of Avignon...

who lost his sister...

the accused maid...

Susanne Michele.

Only one soul can claim to have lost more than any of you.

The tragic Linda Arden...

Mother of Sonia...

Grandmother of Daisy.

Retired from the stage...

but for one final performance.

You are an awfully clever man.

A murderer should have one victim.

When Ratchett kills Daisi Armstrong...

A dozen lives are broken, deformed, ended.

They demand justice!

Of all these wounded souls, we must finally answer...

Who among them is a killer?

Who takes up the knife? The answer is...

Not single one of you could have done it.

Nor any pair.

It can only have been done...

by all of you

Together.

Together.

Even when the avalanche changes everything...

As does the detective, plan was changed.

The kimono, the uniform.

A remarkable improvisation, the doctor knows how to wound without killing.

Each had their part to play.

Do it!

It was my plan.

I recruited them.

I had Hardman track down Cassetti.

I sent McQueen to work for him, and then Masterman.

McQueen could arrange the travel on the day that Michel was on duty.

Mr. Ratchett?

Goodnight.

And so it is done.

For the death of the innocent.

A life... For a life.

Revenge.

No one should hang for this but me!

It was my plan!

Tell the police that it was me alone.

There is no life left in me anymore.

They... Have a chance now.

Helena, I prey...

Has a chance.

They can...

Go, live...

Find some joy...

Somewhere.

Let it end with me.

They are not killers.

They are good people.

They can be good again.

There was right, there was wrong.

And now there is you.

I can not judge this.

You must decide.

Do you wish to go free without punishment for your crime?

Then you must only commit one more.

I'll not stop you.

You can't let them kill you.

You give my body to the lake, and you will go away innocent at the station.

You must silence me.

Bouc can lie.

I can not.

Do it! One of you!

No.

I already died with Daisy.

No!

You said your role was to find justice.

What is justice here?

Sometimes, the law of man is not enough.

Where does conscience lie?

Buried with Daisy.

My Dear Colonel Armstrong.

Finally, I can answer your letter...

at least with the thoughts in head and the feeling in my heart...

that, somewhere, you can hear me.

I've now discovered the truth of the case, and it is...

profoundly disturbing.

I have seen the fracture of the human soul.

So many broken lives, so much pain and anger...

giving way to the poison of deep grief...

until one crime became many.

I have always wanted to believe that man is rational and civilized.

My very existence depends upon this hope...

upon order, and methods and the little gray cells.

But now, perhaps, I'm asked...

to listen instead...

to my heart.

Ladies and gentlemen...

I have understood in this case that the scales of justice...

cannot always be evenly weighed.

And I must learn, for once...

to live with the imbalance.

There are no killers here.

Only the people who deserve a chance to heal.

The police have accepted my first solution to the crime...

the lone assassin who made his escape.

I will leave the train here to conclude formalities.

You are all free to go.

May you find your peace with this.

May we all.

Hello.

I'm looking for a Mr Poirot. He is needed on a very urgent matter.

He is on holiday.

The Kassner case again?

No, sir, far worse.

I have to take you to Egypt straight away.

There was a murder, sir, right on the bloody Nile.

Are you the detective?

Yes.

I am the detective.

Could you please straighten your tie?

I will see you at the car.

Here it is, sir.

Subtitled by Clarity. Previo by Antillan0