Original subtitles

It is with enormous pleasure that I give you

our Crime Writer of the Year, Mrs. Ariadne Oliver!

Surely you remember her?

Celia Ravenscroft?

She is your goddaughter,

is she not?

Is she?

It's just that one has so many!

Mrs. Oliver, may I have your autograph?

Thank you

Oh... that Celia!

I haven't seen her in a very long time.

Thank you.

May I confide in you?

There's something I really must find out,

something of great moment.

A mystery!

Celia Ravenscroft, you see,

intends to marry my son, Desmond.

Why is that a mystery?

Is there something wrong with Desmond?

No, there's nothing wrong with Desmond.

No, but it's all just...

very sudden.

And one has to know about people,

especially people one's welcoming into one's family.

Mrs. Oliver,

what I want to know is this...

did her father

kill her mother,

or did the mother kill the father?

I don't think I heard you properly. Pardon?

I know it's 12 or 13 years ago now,

but it did cause a fuss at the time.

You must remember...

General and Mrs. Ravenscroft?

Of course I remember,

it's just that I couldn't quite believe my ears, Mrs...

Burton-Cox.

Mrs. Burton-Cox,

it has been nice meeting you.

But I must find out the truth.

I'm at a loss to see how I...

Ask your goddaughter.

Ask Celia, please!

I shouldn't dream of doing such a thing!

It's impossible to shake off,

and now this frightful woman wants me to

quiz Celia about it!

What do you think she's after?

Je ne sais pas.

I don't really know what I should do.

What would you do,

were you me?

That is a question most difficult, Madame.

I know how I, Hercule Poirot, would act in any circumstance,

but how you would act, I do not know that.

I do not know that at all.

Excusez-moi, s'il vous plaît.

Hercule Poirot speaks.

Ah, my dear Doctor.

If Poirot can be of any assistance...

he comes at once.

Tout de suite.

George, my coat and my hat, s'il vous plaît.

Yes, Sir.

Madame,

it is my dear friend, Dr. Willoughby.

He has some...

some trouble.

Please do forgive me.

But you haven't answered my question.

What should I do about the dreadful Burton-Cox?

The thing that you should do, Madame...

and this I advise you to do

most strenuously... is nothing.

Rien.

Hmm.

- Merci. - Thank you, sir.

Mon ami.

Poirot, thank God.

I am so sorry.

Hello, Poirot.

I heard you were coming.

Ah, Detective Sergeant Beale.

Detective Inspector.

Ah.

Was he still practicing, Dr. Willoughby?

He'd been semi-retired for years.

In effect, I run the Institute,

but my father kept his office and continued his research.

He saw patients?

He hadn't treated anyone for a long time.

Oh.

This, it is how he was discovered?

That's correct.

Seen enough?

Oui.

- Drain it off! - Sir'.

In your kind of work, Doctor,

is this kind of contraption normal?

Hydriatic procedures in the treatment of insanity

were quite common 20 years ago, Inspector.

I was not, I'm afraid, ever convinced of their efficacy,

but I was the junior...

and he was my father.

And your father, he employed this treatment?

He gave up on it in the end.

Concluded it was dangerous.

Looks like he was hit on the head first.

Come away, Doctor.

I hope you don't mind that I called

for Monsieur Poirot straightaway.

No, I don't.

Poirot and I

have worked together before.

I hope you don't mind my asking for you

to vouch for your movements last night.

You surely don't regard me as a suspect?

I am just doing my job, Sir.

But this was my own father.

Ah.

The procedure, it is quite standard,

cher ami.

Did you sleep at home?

No.

No, my wife lives in Kent with the children.

It's not always convenient

for me to travel home at night, so I keep an apartment here.

- In the Institute? - Upstairs.

Nothing glamorous.

And that's where you stayed last night?

Yes.

Please, excuse me.

Did you know your father was in the building?

No, I'd absolutely no idea.

But he keeps strange hours...

I mean, he kept.

Dr. Willoughby, are you okay?

There's a cop on the door.

Please, don't be alarmed, Marie.

This is my assistant, Miss MacDermott.

Mademoiselle.

Who are these guys?

What's going on around here?

It's good to see you, Mrs. Oliver.

I think you should call me Ariadne.

Thank you for coming.

You said you worked nearby.

Yes, a solicitor's office.

Really?

We have much to catch up on, haven't we, Celia?

It must have seemed odd... my ringing up out of the blue.

I haven't been a very conscientious godmother, I know.

I don't remember coming to your confirmation.

I don't remember having one.

Oh, dear.

But you sent a very nice check on my 21st birthday,

so I would say your duties are done.

It's bizarre, though, I saw your photo in the paper

"Crime Writer of the Year,"

and now we're having tea.

Yes. Well, you see, a woman came up

and buttonholed me.

She said, "I believe you have a goddaughter

named Celia Ravenscroft."

Oh, was she a friend of mine?

A Mrs. Burton-Cox?

She said she thought you might be going to marry her son...

Douglas, is it?

Desmond.

Desmond.

What does Desmond do?

He's a pianist.

Oh!

Splendid.

Making any money?

Oh, God, no.

He's still at the Academy.

He gets a recital now and then.

It actually takes a while to become a concert pianist.

Look, I don't know what you know,

but I'm fond of Desmond, and he's fond of me,

but his mother is something else entirely.

What did she want?

She thought that,

since you are my godchild,

I might be able to ask you something...

something quite delicate.

What she went on to say was...

"Can you find out if her father murdered her mother,

or her mother murdered her father?"

For God's sake... how dare she?!

She actually said that?

The beast!

She thought I might know something about it.

But at the time I was on a lecture tour of America.

And you were what, 14?

I was 12.

I was good friends with your mother.

We were finished together in Paris.

But then I married and went somewhere,

and she married and went somewhere.

And then your father was posted again...

was it Rhodesia?

It was India, but I was sent to school in England.

In the holidays, I boarded with a family in Suffolk.

I hardly saw mummy and daddy,

until they retired to Eastbourne.

But you weren't at Eastbourne when it...

No.

I was away at school.

What can you tell me, Ariadne?

Have you got any inside knowledge?

No, my dear, I haven't.

I know only what I read in the papers...

no obvious motive,

no sign of a quarrel,

no evidence of attack from outside.

Nobody knows!

Well, that's just it... nobody knows.

I was shielded from it when I was young.

But I think of it constantly.

Please,

please find out what happened.

Not for Mrs. Burton-Cox... for me.

I have to know.

Will you help me, Ariadne?

I have to help Celia.

The girl deserves to know.

Yet I can't, for the life of me, see what to do.

How may one discover anything, years afterwards?

I know you're busy, but will you help me

to look into it?

Je suis désolé, Madame.

I have an affaire of consequence,

to which I must attend.

The matter of the Ravenscrofts,

it is in the past, and, Poirot,

he must march in the present.

Give me one moment of your time.

My friend Margaret Ravenscroft died a horrible death.

I have to find out why.

What should I do?

Bien sûr.

Madame, what have you told to me, hmm?

A husband and the wife who never argue,

who lived in complete harmony...

who has ever has heard of such a thing?!

No, there was a motive...

there is always a motive.

And if the police they could not find this motive at the time,

then this motive, how do you say it?

It is unorthodox.

No, the answer, Madame, lies in the past.

You must delve into the past.

You say they lived near to Eastbourne?

You have acquaintance there?

Well, then go!

Allez-y, allez-y!

Drive about, ask the questions, be the person with the nose!

Ah, I see.

And someone will remember something.

Always someone remembers something.

You mean elephants.

Sorry, I was thinking of elephants

at that dinner last night.

With hesitation, I ask why?

Because the meringue got stuck in my teeth.

I see.

The pathway of logic, it is there somewhere, but...

Meringue, dentures,

ivory... elephants.

Must find the elephants.

Elephants can remember.

Well, then go!

Drive about, ask the questions, be the person with the nose!

If I had to say which was most likely,

I should say my father.

It's more natural for a man to shoot someone, isn't it?

I don't think my mother would have fired a gun.

Who else was in the house when it happened?

There was an old housekeeper,

she was half-blind and a bit deaf,

And sometimes there was my aunt...

and there was a foreign girl, an au pair girl.

She'd been my governess when I was young.

She'd come back to help mummy, who'd been unwell.

Ariadne!

My word!

Come in.

- Come in. - Thank you.

Where did we last meet?

The Llewellyn wedding, was it?

All the bridesmaids in a vile shade of apricot!

Funny, the things one remembers.

Bridesmaids.

Geldings.

Dogs. Other things, one forgets.

I saw my goddaughter the other day...

Celia Ravenscroft.

You remember the Ravenscrofts?

The Ravenscrofts?

Wait a minute.

That was that very sad tragedy, wasn't it?

Yes. It wasn't far from here.

Oh, I never knew them in Sussex.

Knew them in Amritsar, not in Sussex.

She used to wear a wig, do you remember?

Who, Margaret?

Yes!

She wore a wig!

I don't know if she had cancer, or was she just bald?

She tried to persuade me to get one.

Bit bloody hard in Amritsar.

Awful business, though.

At the time of the shooting, I was in America...

speaking engagements.

You are so modern, Ariadne!

No one else in my circle has speaking engagements.

They only left the house to take a walk.

But they didn't come back for their dinner.

Somebody or other found them dead.

The revolver was lying by their bodies.

Bloody hard on the dog, I thought.

Rotten way to treat an animal!

He kept a revolver in the house?

Military type, they often do. Fear of the natives, you see.

Not usually a problem in Sussex, but...

Unfathomable things in everybody's lives.

She was neurotic...

- always. - Was she?

Very nervy.

Didn't like India at all.

Odd girl.

Or was that the other one?

I expect you heard the gossip?

What was the gossip, Julia?

He was writing his memoirs, she was taking dictation.

Who, Margaret?

No, the French girl!

She was young...

and French.

There was talk.

People thought he might have shot his wife

because he wanted to marry her.

Then why shoot himself as well?

Good point!

I always thought

it was more about Margaret.

I can't help thinking there might have been a man.

Why do you think that?

Oh, the wigs.

Sexual display.

Mating ritual.

I thought you said she had them because she was bald?

Well, she was pretty, too.

Legs.

All I am saying is,

one of them was having an affair.

In this part of the world, Ariadne,

one either hunts or one has affairs.

It is a variation on what the French call

the "bain de surprise".

I should say it's a surprise.

Hot water followed by cold water, is that right?

Oui, the scalding hot, and the freezing cold.

The principle, it is one of severe shocks to the system,

and is often used in conjunction with the electroshock therapy.

Bloody hell.

Thank you.

I'm quite glad I'm normal.

Well, we may all be thankful, mon ami,

that we are in possession of our minds,

and some of us more so than the others.

But the question, it is this...

who has brought le Professeur to this place,

and secured him?

The night watchman said the door wasn't forced.

Is there a key that is missing?

No.

Everything's in order.

No fingerprints.

And Dr. Willoughby himself?

The man's in shock. I let him go back to Kent.

We can interview him later.

Oh, hi.

- You mind me coming in? - It's against regulations

Non, non, non, non.

Mais non, mademoiselle, pas du tout.

Vous ne l'avez vu à l'avance?

Huh?

No,

I have never been down here before.

Creepy, isn't it?

I have the kettle boiling,

if you gentleman would like a cup of tea.

Do you live locally, Miss MacDermott?

James Street.

It's about a 10-minute walk.

And did you walk home on the night

Professor Willoughby was murdered?

Yes.

And do you live alone?

No, I share an apartment with some other girls.

Is there someone who can vouch for you being at home all night?

Did I say I was at home all night?

I don't remember that.

May I inquire, mademoiselle, from where you originate?

Boston area.

But I always wanted to come to London.

I guess I just had a yen to live in England for a while

and do the things that English people do...

by which, I do not mean

murdering eminent professors of psychiatry.

So you think it was an English person who has done this?

I'd say the stakes are high, wouldn't you?

How well did you know Professor Willoughby?

I didn't know him at all.

So you can't tell us anything

about what he's currently working on?

Look, I'm a filing clerk,

I don't know anything about psychiatry,

I do files from A to Zed.

I just answer the telephone,

make the tea.

If you please to return to the night of the murder.

At what hour did you leave your work?

Usual time, around 5:30.

Mm-hmm, and where did you go then?

I went home.

But you just said you didn't!

I don't think so.

It's a murder inquiry, miss.

Yeah, okay.

I'm sorry, uh...

I went home. I didn't see any of the other girls.

I had sardines on toast,

and then I went to bed.

So nobody can corroborate your story?

I guess not.

It is strange that Dr. Willoughby

also has no alibi for the night in question.

He doesn't?

But surely his wife...

He says he spent the night here, in his flat.

Oh.

I see.

Well, I didn't know that.

I assumed he'd gone home.

Does Nanny Matcham...

I mean, Mrs. Matcham live here?

Who shall I say?

Say Miss Ariadne.

- Come in, ma'am. - Thank you so much.

Well, well.

It must be years.

It is years, Nanny.

What a lot of photographs you have'.

Yes, I have, haven't I?

All my little boys and girls.

All over the world, I went.

I know, Nanny.

- Where were you? - In India?

Shimla,

Hong Kong, Egypt...

That time when I came out to the Punjab...

20-odd years ago...

was it the Ravenscrofts you were with?

Service family. Did you look after their children?

No, not me.

No, I was with the Barnabys.

Here's your tea, Mrs. Matcham.

Oh, thank you, my dear.

Of course, I knew the Ravenscrofts

because they were great friends of the Barnabys.

- Were they? - Yes.

And the Burton-Coxes.

I'll finish that.

I'll get on with the laundry, Mrs. Matcham.

Thank you, my dear.

You really are such a help.

Did you say the Burton-Coxes?

Or did I mean

the Carter-Foxes?

Well, you know who I mean!

They were great friends,

and everybody was very friendly out there.

Did you by any chance meet

the Ravenscrofts when you were on that visit?

No, I didn't.

What were they like?

Well...

They had that trouble.

What trouble was that, Nanny?

Oh, an awful thing happened.

Oh.

- Did it? - Hm.

I heard they were a nice couple.

Oh, yes, yes, they were a very nice couple,

and it was a shock.

They said she had always been touched.

And there was that story of the...

of the baby and the river.

Ooh!

Took a babe from its pram

and threw it into the river.

Just threw it into the river!

What was the trouble in Amritsar, Nanny?

Well, she was in that mental place,

and they let her out.

And it happened all over again.

What happened, Nanny?

They had let her have them back, the boy and a girl.

It was the boy this time.

Of course, we all knew it was her.

Who, Nanny?

Well, whichever one of them it was...

Oh.

It's so lovely to see you again.

I remember you when you had your little button boots,

and you followed me down the lane.

They...

They fell off a cliff, didn't they?

Or something of that kind.

Something of that kind, Nanny, yes.

Nanny?

Ah, Mrs. Buckle, she's fast asleep.

Perhaps you could...

She likes her nap.

- Leave her to me. - Thank you.

Ma'am, was you asking about the General and his wife?

Yes, did you know them?

Used to char for them, I did.

But my day was a Tuesday, so I weren't...

Do you mind if I ask you something rather direct?

I've had a very long day.

Do you think it was a suicide pact?

Nah, not them.

They were happy.

She was a bonny woman.

Always beautifully turned out.

I believe she'd taken to wearing a wig?

Oh, yes, she had several wigs.

- Several? - Four.

Proper expensive.

One was auburn, and one had little grey curls.

She used to send them to a place up in London

to get them re-dressed... Eugene and something.

- Was she in poor health? - She was.

No, I don't know what was wrong with her,

but she had to have an operation.

She went up to Harley Street, and she come back better.

And the General?

Oh, he had a bit of heart trouble,

but he took the pills and that, and he was fine.

He enjoyed it when

the sister came to visit.

Sister? Whose sister?

Lady Ravenscroft's.

I didn't know she had a sister.

Sir, I appreciate this is a time of loss, but, um...

you say Professor Willoughby was retired?

Well, I said semi-retired.

Did he come to the Institute every day?

Oh, my father kept to his own timetable,

which was, I concede, erratic.

He'd work all night and sleep all day, if it suited him.

Was he married?

My mother passed away some years ago.

Never remarried?

Some gentlemen do.

No.

No, he did not remarry.

So does the Willoughby Institute pass to you, now, sir?

Not at all... no, it's run by a trust.

I'm a trustee, that's all.

Are you aware of any...

resentment,

any animosity, professional or otherwise,

which your father might have incurred?

My father was very highly respected.

And it was last night that you told to me

that it was many years since your father

abandoned his experiments with hydrotherapy.

Yes, that's right.

And this is not a technique

that you yourself employ?

No, no, no.

No, I talk to my patients.

I prescribe appropriate medication.

Look, the hydro room

has been in disuse

for just about as long as I can remember.

And yet the murderer knew how to use it.

Yeah.

So it would seem.

I think you know how to use it, too, don't you, sir?

I thought you might need some tea.

Thank you, Jacqueline.

Mrs. Willoughby, your house is charming.

Thank you.

I understand you also keep a small apartment

at the Institute?

That's not mine, that's his.

I've barely been in it.

Sugar?

It must have been someone quite strong,

or more than one person, to have manipulated

the Professor into the contraption.

Either that,

or he has got into it voluntarily.

Why on earth would he do so?

Sais pas.

But it seems as though

someone has given him back a soupçon

of his own medicine.

Medicine he hadn't used for nigh on 20 years.

Think it's a patient with a grievance?

Peut-être.

Celia, darling, we're rehearsing.

We need to talk.

Well, I've only got this room booked for an hour.

Can you come back?

Hello!

Inspector Beale, isn't it?

Good evening, Mrs. Oliver.

Are you well?

I'm absolutely jiggered.

I've spent all day driving round Sussex,

chasing elephants.

Right.

Well, good luck!

No, no, you must think me a complete ninny.

I don't mean real elephants! I mean people elephants!

I'm trying to find out if anyone can recall anything

of the Ravenscroft case.

Eastbourne... the couple on the cliff tops?

That was a curly one, wasn't it?

And it still is.

I know the officer on the case.

Bill Garroway...

retired now.

May I have his number?

Yeah, I should have it here somewhere.

Celia?

Desmond?

Desmond!

Chap, are you all right?!

Oh, good strong black coffee...

just what I need.

These are all the people I interviewed.

I wrote down everything that seemed pertinent,

but it's such a muddle!

The principal suggestions are these...

that General Ravenscroft was writing his memoir

of his India days

and that he was smitten with the young woman

who acted as his secretary.

The result being that he shot his wife

because he hoped to marry the girl...

But then was horror-stricken by what he'd done...

and shot himself.

Or...

Margaret discovered the affair...

and then shot him...

And then herself.

Oh!

And Margaret had been ill...

possibly cancer.

It appears her hair had fallen out,

because she had several wigs.

It says here...

she had four wigs.

Four.

What do you think, Madame? Do you think it seems excessive?

Well, I do really. You might have one, and then an extra one,

for when you sent the other to be dressed.

But...

why did she have four?

Ah.

I haven't got anywhere, have I?

Eh, bien...

I think it will always remain a mystery, Madame.

And now...

I must now set myself to consider

the case of Professor Willoughby.

I bid you good night.

I even went to see my old Nanny.

She knew the Ravenscrofts

in India.

She was sure

there was a mental case in the family.

One of them... Nanny wasn't sure which...

- was unstable. - One of whom?

- One of the sisters. - The sisters?

Margaret had a sister.

I'd never heard of her before.

She wasn't at Margaret's wedding.

That's odd in itself, isn't it?

Continuez de parler, chère Madame.

Well, she was in an asylum for years.

It seems possible that she'd killed children,

even perhaps her own children.

And then she'd had treatment

and then she'd been cured...

or paroled or released at any rate.

She went out to Margaret in India

where there was another incident,

again connected with children...

which was hushed up.

But might that explain what's worrying Mrs. Burton-Cox...

insanity in the family?

Non, non, non.

No, Madame, this is conjecture merely.

What you discovered in Sussex

was merely the mirrors and the smoke...

nothing real.

Non, Madame, what is certain

is that they were a couple who were devoted to each other

and lived together happily.

So why...

on the evening of the most beautiful day,

should they take a walk together along the cliffs,

taking with them a revolver and a dog.

What's the dog got to do with it?

Je ne sais pas.

But all of your elephants, they mention a dog.

Why, yes.

So tell to me something that was said.

Well, one of the elephants said

that the dog was devoted

to Lady Ravenscroft.

- Another said it bit her. - Ah.

Non, non.

It is nothing.

Merely an elephant remembering a dog.

I can help you no further, Madame.

Pardonnez-moi.

My name is Desmond Burton-Cox.

Ah, yes, I have heard of the inquiries of your mother.

Monsieur, if you could please be brief?

As you can see, I am very busy.

My mother had no right pestering

Mrs. Oliver like that.

It's no concern of hers whether I marry Celia

- or whether I don't! - Mothers are always concerned.

She's not really my mother, I'm adopted.

Ah.

Why are you here, Monsieur?

Someone attacked me at the music school

this evening.

- And you don't know who it was? - No, I don't, but...

well, the point is, my mother's a little unhinged.

I fear she may have put someone up to it.

Why should she wish to do that?

When I was a child...

let's just say she did some terrible things.

Now she wants to stop me getting married.

She's been trying to scare Celia with awful rumors...

How long have you known Mademoiselle Celia, Monsieur?

All my life.

My people were in India, like hers.

I was boarded for the holidays

in Suffolk and we played together.

But why should your mother wish to stop you getting married?

Because she's mean, possessive.

If you go against her, she's vindictive.

When I was 15, she took me to a psychiatrist.

Pourquoi?

I formed an attachment to someone,

and I wouldn't give it up.

My mother was livid

and marched me off to Dr. Willoughby.

Please to sit?

Darling...

What the goddamn hell have you been saying?

My wife wouldn't...

I thought you had her under control!

And who saw you that evening?

I can't remember.

I don't know if anyone saw me.

I might have gone for a walk.

I can't remember.

What was your father working on?

Did he have a...

a special line of inquiry?

Behavior patterns in twins.

Genetic characteristics,

similar and dissimilar environments,

blood types, pathologies.

What else would you like to know?

The name of someone who can vouch for your whereabouts

the night of the murder, Doctor.

Otherwise, you're on a bit of a sticky wicket, aren't you?

Hey.

Got a minute?

Pardon?

May I exchange a word or two, Detective Inspector,

if you would be so kind?

Inspector Garroway,

if you please to tell us everything that you know.

The Ravenscrofts married in 1913.

She was a well-born girl,

originally from Kent.

She had a sister, Dorothea,

who married a Captain Jarrow.

They were blighted by misfortune, though.

Dorothea's husband died in the war,

leaving her with two children.

The youngest, a boy,

fell into a pond and drowned.

At first, they said his older sister was to blame.

But then, it turned out,

there was another story.

One of the neighbors

said the mother herself had done it...

got angry with the boy,

pushed him in the pond, held him under.

She breaks down under questioning...

I mean...

she went raving mad, had to be hospitalized.

She spends years in treatment,

and then for some reason, they pronounce her cured,

and she returns to live with the family.

So, Mr. Garroway,

was she staying with the Ravenscrofts

when they were shot?

No.

- Are you sure? - Yes.

She died three weeks before.

She takes a lot of tranquillizers,

and she sleepwalks.

One night, she leaves the house,

wanders along the cliff edge,

loses her footing, and over she goes.

They don't find her till the next morning.

Lady Ravenscroft took it very bad.

Had a bit of a breakdown herself.

She spends a fortnight in a sanatorium,

and then she comes back, apparently better.

Three days later, she's dead.

No one has the first idea of a motive, then or now.

The General has a good record,

the wife is well-liked.

They play piquet in the evening, go for walks.

No money worries.

A bit of poor health, you know...

but time of life.

Were there fingerprints on the weapon?

Clear prints from both of them.

But no suggestion as to

who fired it last.

Could it be a third party?

They would have had to have gotten bloody close.

No, it all points to a suicide pact, and yet...

No, with a suicide, they leave the notes.

Ah, exactly!

Well, could someone have stolen the note?

Who else was in the house on that day?

Let's see.

There was a...

Betsy Whittaker... cook/housekeeper...

been with them since the dawn of time.

Didn't see too clearly, nor hear too clearly, either.

There was a visitor staying...

a Zelie Rouxelle.

Foreign... don't think she understood much.

And the gardener.

His alibi stood up.

That's it.

You have interviewed Betsy Whittaker?

She was more concerned about the dog.

Et encore le chien!

What do you think happened, Superintendent?

I think...

old sins have long shadows.

That's what my mother used to say.

Oui.

Madame, do we have the name of the supplier of the wigs?

Why are you suddenly interested?

You didn't care tuppence before.

Yes, I have got that.

It's...

Eugene and Rosentelle, formerly of Bond Street,

now in Tooting Bec.

Good afternoon.

Have you an appointment?

No, I'm afraid I haven't.

You're in luck.

Monsieur Eugene can do you in 10 minutes.

Is it a permanent today?

No, no, that sounds horrible!

I don't think it could be much worse than it already is,

do you, Madame?

Let us take off the split ends, at least?

No, thank you, I would simply like to ask you some questions

about Eugene and Rosentelle, of Bond Street.

Hairpieces to the gentry.

Ah, the old days.

Bond Street, Bert?

Remember?

That was the life.

Oh, but Tooting seems most pleasant.

What does Madame want?

I would like to ask you about a former client.

I want to know about some wigs.

I'm terribly sorry, we do not do wigs no more.

They were for a friend of mine,

a person I went to school with...

Lady Ravenscroft.

You was at school with Lady Ravenscroft?

- Yes, yes, I was. - Where do you live now,

Buckingham Palace?

Mayfair.

How may we be of assistance,

your Ladyship?

Perhaps you remember the tragedy at Eastbourne 13 years ago?

Well, I'm looking into it on behalf of their daughter,

the Honorable Celia Ravenscroft.

Oh, Lady Ravenscroft.

Yes.

She was so nice... and good-looking, too.

I remember reading about it in the paper.

She had four wigs, didn't she?

Do people often have four?

Most people have two.

Lady Ravenscroft had two to begin with,

then she ordered extra.

Did she come to Bond Street to collect them?

No, I think...

I think it was a young lady,

a French lady, come up

and give us all the sizes and colors and styles.

There was one with a pretty gray streak in it...

for parties...

and one with strawberry blonde curls, I recall...

one of Bert's finest.

I remember thinking,

when I read about the business,

"That's bleeding odd.

It's only three weeks ago she's bought new wigs,

and now she's gone and shot herself."

Imagine!

Ah!

Oh.

Mademoiselle Ravenscroft?

Hercule Poirot. I assist...

Sorry, who? I thought Mrs. Oliver was meeting me here?

Ah. I see Madame Oliver, she's been rather vague

with her invitation.

No, it is I that you are meeting, Mademoiselle.

Please to permit...

I am a private detective,

and I assist Madame Oliver with her inquiries on your behalf.

Please to sit, Mademoiselle.

Thank you.

Mademoiselle...

Monsieur Desmond Burton-Cox, he has been to see me.

Oh, I thought he was rehearsing all day.

He has a concert tomorrow at Beverly Hall.

It's quite important.

What's he doing talking to you?

No, it was last night

that he has came to see me, Mademoiselle.

He cares for you most deeply.

Mademoiselle, may I ask a question

that is personal?

Look, I don't know who you are,

so I...

Do you wish to marry Desmond Burton-Cox?

Yes, I do... satisfied?

Then nothing should prevent it.

If you are in love with Monsieur Desmond Burton-Cox,

then that is all that matters.

The rest of your life

with Monsieur Desmond Burton-Cox is all you should

be concerned with, n'est-ce pas?

Is he well provided for, financially?

Excuse me, that's damned rude!

Pardon.

He has a rather pitiful allowance.

But I have my own means, you know, I work for a living!

Oui, bien sûr.

This allowance, Mademoiselle,

it is something that his mother could withhold?

What, do you mean

she'd cut off the money if he marries me?

I hadn't thought of that.

Do you know who is his natural mother?

No, no, I don't.

- Does he? - I don't think so.

But he doesn't worry about it.

He's not the worrying kind.

But you are, Mademoiselle, mais oui?

You are.

Tell to me if you please,

Madame Burton-Cox,

was she friendly with your late mother and father?

Did you ever meet her as a child?

Can you remember?

No, I don't think I did.

I know she was out in India, and my people were, too,

but I was at school...

or holiday in Suffolk.

In fact, that's where I met Desmond.

In the care of a French girl, je pense?

Yes! Yes, Zelie.

- Oui. - Lovely Zelie.

Look, whoever you are,

if I'm going to marry Desmond,

and live with him forever,

I need to know the truth.

I don't want dark secrets in our lives.

I want the truth.

But the truth, Mademoiselle...

she can be cruel.

Hercule Poirot speaks.

Poirot, it's Inspector Beale.

I have the information you asked for.

Excellent.

Desmond Burton-Cox's natural mother was an actress.

She moved to California,

where she found considerable success in moving pictures,

under the name Katy Lestrange.

18 months ago, Katy Lestrange died

of a barbiturate overdose in Pasadena.

She left her entire fortune...

several million dollars... to her son, Desmond,

in a trust... he gets it when he's 25.

And who administers this trust?

Who did you think? Mrs. Burton-Cox.

Can you get for me the deed of covenant?

I'll give it a go.

Oh, and, Poirot,

can you come over to the Willoughby Institute?

There's been something of a turn-up.

Oui, tout de suite.

Miss MacDermott,

will you come in now, please?

Repeat to Mr. Poirot what you said earlier.

Asseyez-vous, Mademoiselle.

On the night of the murder...

Dr. Willoughby was with me...

here, in his flat...

in bed.

He's a decent man.

He's trying to save my reputation.

But I can't stand by

and see him swing for something he didn't do.

And he was with you all of the night?

Till dawn.

And we slept a little.

Then I went home,

had a bath, and...

came back to work again.

It must have been at that time

that the night watchman raised the alarm.

David...

Dr. Willoughby...

elected to keep his mouth shut, for my sake.

But he's a fool!

It is a brave thing that you do, ma petite.

Hell, my reputation was shot in the States...

it might as well be shot here, too.

I have a question, si vous permettez?

It was last summer that you arrived in England?

Yes.

Six months ago... on the SS France.

So you were still living in Boston in March of this year?

Yes.

Can you remember what you were doing on the 17th?

The 17th of March?

Oui.

How am I expected to remember that?

So you do not recall this day?

No...

I don't.

No idea.

Bon.

Do you know a Mademoiselle Celia Ravenscroft?

Never heard of her.

Who is she?

No, it is of no consequence.

Detective Inspector,

may I have the use of your car?

Merci.

I'm not exactly proud of myself, Poirot.

Things are pretty awkward around here.

Somehow Jacqueline seems to have found out

about the whole wretched business.

You asked her to perjure herself in court,

and she would not?

I'm afraid that is correct.

Now Mademoiselle Marie MacDermott,

she provides you with the alibi,

and you are no longer the suspect.

She said something about the dictates

of her conscience.

She's quite religious, you know.

She is Catholic?

Irish background, I believe.

Nice girl.

Tell me, mon ami, about the patients of your father.

Do you recall a Dorothea Jarrow?

Why, of course!

We treated her for quite a long time.

My father took a special interest.

Merci.

She's dead, now, isn't she?

Oui, d'accord...

What can you tell to me about her treatment?

Well, Mrs. Jarrow was considered

to be one of my father's triumphs... at first.

Her husband had died on the Western front,

and that left her rather fragile, I'm afraid.

So she was disturbed mentally?

No, no, at this point,

she was not thought to be.

But her GP had called in my father

because she didn't seem to be

getting over her bereavement in the normal way...

whatever that may be.

To my father's eyes,

Dorothea's condition presented very decided dangers.

She was prone to mood swings and acts of violence.

He thought she should be kept under observation,

and he was proved right...

because then the first incident happened.

A boy, he has drowned?

Yes, how did you know?

According to Mrs. Jarrow,

her elder child, a girl, had attacked the younger,

her little boy.

She said she hit him with a spade,

and he fell into an ornamental pond and drowned.

At first, Mrs. Jarrow's version was believed,

and then other stories started to emerge.

A housemaid, a telegraph boy...

both said they saw Mrs. Jarrow

push her son into the water and hold him under.

Now, the court ruled that Mrs. Jarrow

should be committed to secure psychiatric care,

and she was.

But you see, my poor late father

subscribed to a new school of treatment,

which held that once certain rehabilitation targets

had been reached...

targets attainable by hydro-therapy

and electroshock...

the patient could resume a normal life.

And this treatment of hydro-therapy,

it was administered to Dorothea?

Yes.

And in due course... two or three years...

home she went.

She was considered to be completely recovered.

Shortly afterwards,

she went to India, stayed with her twin sister.

It was in Amritsar that...

Excuse me, mon ami... did you say her twin sister?

Yes.

They were twins?

Why, yes.

Madame Jarrow and Lady Ravenscroft.

Margaret and Dorothea were twins?

Why has no person told to me this?

But this was my father's special area of research...

- I thought you knew? - No.

He was an authority on twins.

So perhaps Margaret suffered

from the same malady as Dorothea?

No, no, no, she was perfectly sane,

and devoted to looking after

her unfortunate sibling.

You see General Ravenscroft had, throughout,

paid for his sister-in-law

to receive the best treatment in England.

He was on good terms with my father.

When they returned from India,

they often had Dorothea to stay.

Why was he so kind to her?

Well...

I think I can tell you that.

When he was a young subaltern,

Dorothea was considered a fabulously beautiful woman.

Alistair Ravenscroft fell in love with her.

And then, I think, he caught a glimpse...

saw behind the eyes, the danger zone.

And so...

he proposed to Margaret instead.

He marries the sister, but he's in love with them both.

The devil!

Poirot, he owes to you an apology, Madame.

He is imbécile!

I see now that the two cases are connected.

There is a point of convergence which links them.

Oh, what is that?

The Willoughby Institute.

Morning.

Oh, Poirot...

I forgot you'd be here.

- One word if I may, Doctor. - Please.

Mademoiselle.

In you files, mon ami,

there are many histories that are very absorbing.

But you know there is a patient that is missing.

And I ask about a boy

who has 15 years of age...

a certain Desmond Burton-Cox.

Where is his case file?

Uh...

There is no case file, Poirot.

No, but the boy, he has been brought to you many times.

Yes, he was, but I saw him unofficially.

I took no payment.

And so there is no file.

You took no payment?

Well, not in the usual way.

I'm sorry, I do not understand.

She had no money, Poirot!

Look...

self-control is not one of my stronger qualities.

I just have to live with it.

I see.

But I only ask about the boy, Desmond.

What was he like?

Remarkable power of recall.

The smallest details of his childhood

were easy to surface,

but lacking in self-confidence.

And I believe that he had an interest

that was almost obsessional...

in, I do not know who,

a woman or an older man?

A French woman, I believe.

Zazie or Suzie?

She was 25 or so, at the time, and he 15.

They were in love.

Would you say he was in love?

I would say so, yes...

not that I know very much about that particular emotion.

I've spoken to my goddaughter, Celia.

Have you? Oh, good!

What did she say?

First, there is someone I wish you to meet.

Mrs. Burton-Cox, this is Monsieur Poirot.

Monsieur Poirot is my assistant.

Enchanté, Madame.

Is he French?

I can't stand the French.

No, Madame, I am Belgium.

You have some concerns

about the marriage of your son Desmond

with Mademoiselle Celia Ravenscroft?

That is so.

Young people today...

they rush into things...

but it's important to know the background,

don't you think?

The psychological background.

Well, there are certain risks

that one might not wish to take.

But the persons taking these risks

are Celia and Desmond,

not you, Madame.

I beg your pardon?

Desmond, he is not your son by birth.

What has that got to do with anything?

And when he was young, did you take care of him personally?

Well, of course I did.

- Mrs. Oliver, please... - You must have had some help.

Help, why should I need help? I'm his mother.

Perhaps in the holidays?

Oh, well, yes, of course in the holidays,

he went to stay

- with some people in Suffolk. - Oui.

And in Suffolk, he was in the care of a French girl?

Zelie... Zelie Rouxelle?

I've had quite enough of this.

Goodbye.

What occurred between

Desmond and Zelie Rouxelle, Madame?

Do either of you

have the faintest idea what it's like

when your own child takes one look at you

and starts to scream?

And after a few months with that beloved nanny,

I could do nothing with him!

She's a... she's a devious little baggage,

and I made jolly sure

to intercept her letters, later on.

He's my son, and I will say what happens to him!

Ladies and Gentlemen,

five minutes till the start of the recital.

- Mademoiselle Celia! - Poirot!

Mademoiselle, did you know...

and please do forgive me, but,

how is was that Aunt Dorothea died.

Yes, yes, I do.

And your cousins?

The little girl and the little...

boy who was drowned?

We tended not to speak of them.

But perhaps they were also looked after during the holidays

by your au pair, Zelie?

Oh, no, no, no.

Zelie just had me and Desmond.

She returned

to assist your mother at the end, yeah?

And also she takes dictations from your late father,

- does she not? - Yes.

So, Mademoiselle, what was the involvement of your late father

with the Willoughby Institute?

What is the Willoughby Institute?

It is where your Aunt Dorothea, she was treated.

No, I don't know anything at all.

I see.

Uh, Mademoiselle,

please to think now very carefully,

is it possible that there was anyone else staying

at Overcliffe at the time of the deaths of your parents?

Anyone perhaps whom the police did not know about?

I don't know how, because if there had been,

Zelie would have mentioned it, wouldn't she?

Oui.

Have you remained in contact with Zelie?

Oh, yes, I wrote to her countless times,

but all my letters were sent back, she simply disappeared.

I'd have loved to have seen her, she was a marvelous character.

And, Desmond, does he write to her?

Well, how could he?

- We don't know where she lives. - Ah.

And you yourself, Mademoiselle,

have you ever returned to Overcliffe?

No.

Why?

Why do you think I should?

Drive out my demons,

that sort of thing?

Ladies and Gentlemen, please take your seats.

Oh, dear.

- Madame Oliver. - I'm so sorry.

It's just that they're in and seated.

I am so sorry.

- Is Celia there? - Yes, she's here.

Oh, good, that's very good.

Non, non, non, Monsieur!

Merci.

The key, it is Zelie.

Of this, I am sure.

Yes, but how do we find her?

Miss Ravenscroft,

Good of you to come.

Look at all those diamonds.

He's playing without music!

Clever chap!

There was a foreign girl.

She'd been my governess when I was young.

She'd come back to help mummy, who'd been unwell.

I had formed an attachment to someone,

and I wouldn't give it up.

After a few months with his beloved nanny,

I could do nothing with him!

We don't know where she lives.

But all my letters were sent back.

She simply disappeared.

Very good.

How long is the interval?

That is it!

That is it!

How could I be so stupid?!

Are you enjoying it, Ariadne?

There's a flute sonata in the second half.

Please, do forgive the intrusion, Monsieur.

Poirot! Yeah, I really can't talk to you now.

We're about to go on for the second half.

Non. It will not be possible for you

to play the remainder of this concert...

unless you give to me the address

of Mademoiselle Zelie Rouxelle.

What are you talking about? I don't know it!

Yes, you do know it.

Well, I can't remember it!

Look, we have to go on!

Monsieur, you play Bach from memory,

you have the memory of an elephant!

I demand to know the address

of Mademoiselle Zelie Rouxelle, tout de suite!

Mr. Burton-Cox!

It's time, gentlemen!

Merci, Monsieur.

Taxi!

- Sacre! - Mr. Poirot?

It's Bill Garroway.

Ah, Superintendent.

This here is Sprat.

The wife named him that, then she died.

I'm stuck with it.

Oh, Inspector Beale told me you'd be here,

asked me to deliver this.

He's been called out on a case.

Merci. I am so sorry you have been put to some much trouble.

Oh, it's no trouble at all, sir.

I'll bid you good night.

Come on, Sprat.

Superintendent...

tell to me about Sprat.

Does he bite?

He bites his own backside, mainly...

not exactly clever.

And please to recollect,

the dog that lived with General and Lady Ravenscroft,

did it bite?

Well, it's a funny thing you mention that, sir.

The housekeeper said the dog had turned on its mistress

a couple of days before.

And sure enough, when we did the autopsy on Lady Ravenscroft,

there's a couple of dog bite marks,

maybe a week or two old.

So that dog, it was clever, eh?

Merci...

Oh, taxi!

Oh, where are you off to in such a hurry?

Paris!

Whitehaven Mansions,

and then Victoria Station,

for the boat train, avec vitesse!

Right you are, guv'nor!

I will be with you in one moment, Monsieur.

Merci.

It was a pleasure.

Au revoir.

Hercule Poirot.

Do I have the honor to address

Mademoiselle Zelie Rouxelle?

As I said to you in my telegram,

I wish to ask about the General and Lady Ravenscroft.

I believe that you were employed by them?

Yes.

I was an au pair...

for Celia.

You knew also the boy Desmond...

Desmond Burton-Cox?

Yes, we still correspond.

But you do so in secret, I think?

His mother disapproves.

There is nothing of which to disapprove.

We are friends.

He and Celia intend to marry.

He has told me.

I am pleased for them.

But difficulties are being put in their way.

Mademoiselle Celia has been asked

to tell to the Desmond family

exactly what happened at Overcliffe...

it is now since 13 years.

But she cannot do that...

for she does not know.

It was thought advisable to tell her nothing.

She accepted it.

She was too young to understand.

She is now old enough now to understand.

But what is there to understand, Monsieur?

It was a double suicide.

And you have found no reason to doubt that?

The police found no reason to doubt it.

So there is nothing more

you can tell to me, Mademoiselle Rouxelle?

I fear I cannot.

It was a very long time ago.

For how long were you living at Overcliffe

before their deaths?

For two months.

And the sister of Lady Ravenscroft,

Dorothea Jarrow,

she was also living there at this time,

was she not?

How much do you know?

It has to end. You understand that.

Yeah.

It always ends.

I'm so sorry, my darling.

Guys like you are always sorry.

But guess what?

I'll be okay.

May I help you?

Yes, thank you.

I wonder if you can.

I wanted to see if there's anything in your files

pertaining to the treatment of a Mrs. Dorothea Jarrow?

Could I ask what business this is of yours?

She was my aunt.

I'm Celia Ravenscroft.

I think something funny's going on.

Sure.

Okay.

Why don't we take a look?

Dorothea Jarrow had been treated for the mental illness,

but had shown some improvement, n'est-ce pas?

Yes.

And it was thought beneficial for her

to spend some time in a normal family home.

And Dorothea and Margaret, they were fond of each other?

There was a bond between them,

a bond of dependence and love.

And in many ways, they were alike.

Pardon.

But in twins,

although there is this bond of love,

if something should occur to break it,

then it is shattered forever.

Oh, yes, I know.

And love, it may easily turn to hate.

And it is easier to hate where you have once loved

than to remain indifferent.

Do you speak from experience?

Tell to me about Dorothea Jarrow.

She lived in a state of terrible strain.

She had had some advanced therapy,

but it seemed not to do much good.

She was never happy.

And she had a great aversion to children.

Ah, oui. And that led to incidents

most serious, n'est ce pas...

I heard what happened in her early life,

I heard what happened in India.

Oh, I have no firsthand knowledge of that.

No, but there are events of which

you do have firsthand knowledge,

are there not?

Isn't it better to leave things,

when at least they have been accepted?

Mademoiselle, what happened on that day at Overcliffe,

it could have been a double suicide,

it could have been a murder, it could have been...

one of a number of possibilities.

But from what you have just said,

from that one little sentence...

I consider that you know what happened on that day...

and you know what happened in the weeks before.

I cannot tell you anything.

I'm sorry.

Was there someone else at Overcliffe,

someone of whom the police know nothing?

No.

I think that you lie.

The General Ravenscroft

was at first in love with Dorothea.

Then his affections, they change,

and he marries her twin sister Margaret.

Mademoiselle, what do you suppose that

that has done to Dorothea?

I suppose that it has destroyed her, Monsieur.

Ah.

And the General, he has realized?

Yes.

He knew.

He had a good heart.

And you were also in love with him,

I think.

You may not speak to me like that.

No, no, no, Mademoiselle,

I do not say that you had a love affair.

I say only that you loved him.

One can love and serve and still be happy...

even if one is not loved in return.

But you did serve him, Mademoiselle.

You served him loyally in the great crisis of his life.

Mademoiselle, tell to me what happened.

I know that you know.

You pretended to the police that you had only little English

and then you left Overcliffe at once.

But you were there.

And I need you to tell me who else was in the house.

Why should I tell you anything?

My life ended that day.

It was as if I had been shot!

I have hidden myself away

here in a backstreet in Paris.

Look at me!

I've had no life at all.

Why must I speak now?

Because you have a heart, Zelie!

And because Celia and Desmond,

they need to know.

Mademoiselle, neither you...

nor I are married.

We never may be married.

But they should be!

I do hope you had a nice time in Paris.

I've been to the shipping office.

Here are the records you wanted.

Merci, Madame.

Bon.

And, Poirot, he also has a document for you.

This is the deed of covenant

for the legacy left to Desmond by his natural mother.

The trust, it is to be administered

by Madame Burton-Cox

and her solicitor, as trustees...

until...

until he reaches the age of 25,

or until he marries,

whichever is the earlier.

So if he marries Celia,

he'll come into a fortune.

Oui.

But how does this fit in with Mrs. Burton-Cox

wanting to find about the deaths of the Ravenscrofts?

Madame Burton-Cox, she has no concern

with the deaths of the Ravenscroft's!

Non, her sole concern

is to prevent the marriage!

Why?

Because she's...

Because she is stealing the money of Desmond

and thinks she has time to pay it back before he has noticed!

So if he marries Celia now...

Fin de partie!

I say, excuse me.

I've lost Celia... I'm worried!

She... she said something about

going to Eastbourne... exorcising ghosts

or some such nonsense.

This was after she came back from the Willoughby Institute.

No, no, no. She has been to the Willoughby Institute?

- Yes. - And now she has gone

to Eastbourne?

She is in danger. We must hurry!

Vite!

Hello?

Excuse me.

Excuse me...

What are you doing here?

Why are you...

Up here, sir!

It's Miss Ravenscroft!

Come on, it's all right.

We've got you.

You are under arrest.

It's all right.

That's it, all safe.

All safe.

Monsieur, Mademoiselle.

The question to be put, it is this...

was the deaths of the Ravenscrofts suicide,

or was it murder?

Because one or the other must be true.

But, Poirot, he says to you

that both are true,

and I fear, Mademoiselle Celia, it is a tragedy

of two people who loved each other,

and who died for love.

And it will be hard for you to hear.

I'm ready.

Bon.

When Madame Oliver set out on a visit

to her old acquaintances,

Poirot, at first, seemed to take no notice.

Alors, he had another case, which seemed to him

infinitely more important.

And for that, I apologize to you, Madame.

For what you found out in your visits into Sussex,

it was vital for the solving of both mysteries.

You know who killed Professor Willoughby?

Oh, I have my little theory.

But we shall see.

When I learned that everything,

it was pointing to the Willoughby Institute,

I looked at the evidence in the notebooks of Madame Oliver,

at these recollections...

at these...

elephants...

and, at first, they seem to have no value.

But everything has a value.

Everyone remembers something.

And so I take from one informant, one detail,

from another, another.

And so we have, first of all, the evidence of the wigs.

Wigs?

Oui.

We learned that Lady Ravenscroft,

she had four wigs... four!

Now, this for Poirot was a puzzle, eh?

Thank you, Zelie.

We know that on the day that she died,

Lady Ravenscroft was wearing the wig

with the curls of the color of the strawberry blonde.

Why is that significant?

- She could've worn any of them. - Vraiment, Mademoiselle,

but you see we also have the evidence of the dog.

Dog? What dog?

No, no, no, please, Mademoiselle Celia, be patient.

This dog, it is devoted to its mistress.

But in the last few weeks of her life,

this dog has bitten her more than once.

You mean the dog knew

she would commit suicide?

No, no, no.

It is much more simple than that.

This dog, it knew what no one else knew.

It knew she was not his mistress.

She looked like its mistress

in the clothes of Margaret,

in the wig of Margaret.

But a dog only recognizes what his nose tells to him,

and this dog recognized

that this was not his mistress.

So who could it be, this woman?

Could it be her twin sister... Dorothea?

But that's impossible... she was dead!

But now I come to something else

that was brought to my attention by Madame Oliver...

the knowledge that Lady Ravenscroft

had recently been in a hospital or a nursing home.

It is believed that she suffered from cancer...

this I learned from the evidence of Julia Carstairs

in your notebook, Madame...

and so her visits to hospital pass unremarked.

I don't think Julia Carstairs knew what she was talking about.

But it does not matter, Madame,

because the General Alistair Ravenscroft,

once he rejects Dorothea and marries her sister,

Dorothea, she becomes very jealous,

and her life, as you say,

well...

it goes from the rails.

And we have reason to believe that one... and possibly two...

children died at her hands.

And the General, having feelings of guilt so terrible,

pays for her to have treatment

at the Willoughby Institute.

Are you saying, sir, that the mad aunt

shot the Ravenscrofts?

No, Monsieur, that is not my solution.

Madame Celia, I hope you will not be

too dismayed by the truth.

It was Dorothea...

who killed your mother.

Often, they would go for a walk together in the evenings.

But one evening, she returned alone.

She must have run off.

She doesn't run off, Dorothea, she's my wife!

What have you done with her?

I think that we should look.

You're right.

Where were you walking?

Where we always walk.

Something has happened to Margaret.

Come on, Zelie.

Lady Ravenscroft, where are you?!

Margaret!

Margaret!

Margaret!

Margaret!

Come on!

We'll take the cliff path!

Margaret!

Margaret!

Margaret, what happened?

Was it your sister?

It isn't her fault, Alistair.

Damn her!

What did she do?

She... she pushed me.

She doesn't know what she's doing.

I know it's bad, Zelie.

I know I'll die.

No, I'll get a doctor!

Alistair, stay, there's no time for a doctor.

Please don't let her suffer for it.

Don't let them give her that treatment again!

Promise me, Alistair.

Promise me you'll save her.

- Zelie? - Yes?

Make him do as I ask.

I promise, Margaret.

I promise.

Thank you, my darling.

Thank you...

Oh.

Oh, Margaret.

Margaret!

Zelie wanted to go for help,

but the General, he said,

"No, I made a promise.

I must keep it."

He decided what he would do,

and he asked Zelie to help him.

Forgive me, my darling.

Forgive me.

Celia?

Are you all right?

It's better to know.

Go on.

Alors, they made a plan.

They agreed to say that it was Dorothea

who walked in her sleep,

and fell to her death, not Margaret.

They hid her in a cottage in the Downs

for a week or 10 days.

The General Ravenscroft put it about

that his wife had suffered had a nervous collapse,

and was in a sanatorium, recovering.

Zelie, she has gone up to London and bought wigs to fit Dorothea

from Eugene and Rosentelle, of Bond Street.

And then they brought her back.

Good morning, Mrs. Whittaker.

Have we something nice for lunch?

Yes, Madame.

Everyone accepted that this was Lady Ravenscroft,

and thought she was behaving oddly

because she was still suffering from shock

at the death of her sister.

How could she keep it up?

It must have been dreadfully difficult.

No, Madame, it was not difficult.

Because, at last, she had achieved what she wanted...

she was married to General Alistair Ravenscroft.

But how could my father bear it?

As I have said...

he made a plan.

Zelie, today is your last day of work.

I'm sending you back to Paris.

You cannot do that!

I can, my dear, and I will.

You have given sterling service,

but I do not want you mixed up in this... not anymore.

Enough is enough.

There, there.

There.

Zelie, come on.

Stop here.

Hold this.

Why?

Because I want to kiss you.

Goodbye, Dorothea.

Where are you going?

Hell, I expect.

This is for Margaret.

And this is for me.

He had to keep his promise to his wife,

and he did.

I am so sorry, Mademoiselle Celia.

Bring her in.

Just who are you,

and why did you try to kill me?

Please to take off her cap.

This is Mary Jarrow...

the daughter of your Aunt Dorothea.

You're my cousin?

How'd you work it out, Poirot?

The Boston Irish, Mademoiselle,

they venerate the 17th of March.

- St. Patrick's Day. - Oui.

There is always the big parade.

Everyone knows what they were doing on the 17th of March.

Also your accent, Mademoiselle.

If you are from Boston, as you say that you are,

in the state of Massachusetts,

then you would pronounce

the last letter of the alphabet "zee."

But, no, you pronounce it "zed."

You are Canadian, Mademoiselle.

And, Poirot, he has heard this immediately.

Also, you say that you arrived here

on the SS France, but no,

Poirot, he has examined the list of passengers,

and there is no

Marie MacDermott on the France.

But there is a Mary Jarrow.

Your mother killed mine!

Celia, please!

And it is you, Mademoiselle Jarrow,

who killed Professor Willoughby.

He deserved it.

Did you see what they did to her?!

Those appalling machines! No wonder she went crazy!

But how did you know?

She was long gone.

When I was at school, she sent me letters.

I still got 'em.

She told me what they did to her.

She knew I was too young to understand.

But one day...

I would understand.

And one day,

I'd come back.

Why have you waited so long?

I had no money!

I was just a poor secretary.

I had to earn enough to get to England.

Where you take a job at the Willoughby Institute.

To be honest... it was too easy.

I knew the Professor came in to work late at night.

So...

I crawl into David's bed.

And he likes a little sleep after pleasure.

His little sleeps turn into longer sleeps.

It was clever, that,

to pretend to provide

an alibi for the Doctor Willoughby,

whereas, in fact, you were providing

an alibi for yourself.

That is clever.

Cleverer than you think, Madame.

For then she goes to Jacqueline, the wife of Dr. Willoughby,

and confesses her affair,

so his wife will not provide the alibi for her husband.

Meanwhile, she has become friendly

with Professor Willoughby.

And no doubt you take a great interest in his work?

I told him I was writing a book.

I told him the Willoughby Institute

was going to go down big in the history of psychiatry.

And then you persuade the professor

to show you the Hydro Room!

You hit him, you gag him,

and then you drown him.

Also, Mademoiselle...

I know that on the day

that your mother died, you were here, at Overcliffe.

You don't know that, Poirot.

Mais oui, Mademoiselle.

Attendez.

Here is my proof.

- Oh. - Zelie!

Zelie!

Oh, my children.

I was listening.

I have heard everything that was said.

You know it is true, Mary.

You were here.

Your mother sent for you.

You arrived the day she died.

You do remember!

You arrived just in time to hear this...

What are you going to do?

I am going to shoot her...

and then I am going to shoot myself.

Oh, no!

You know what?

I have this overpowering feeling that that's against the law...

just shooting someone,

just killing them.

If I could have killed him over again,

I would!

Was it you who tried to strangle me?

All I wanted was to punish her, ruin her.

Why should her life be happy?

Mine wasn't.

Mademoiselle Rouxelle?

As soon as I knew what the General was about to do,

I took Mary away, very quickly.

I thought her life would be intolerable if she stayed.

I sent her to relations of mine in Montreal.

I told no one.

And I returned to Paris.

I swore I would never speak of this.

I have broken my vow.

Forgive me, Mary.

No, Mademoiselle,

you have done the right thing.

Please to take her away.

Desmond!

Desmond, where are you?

Desmond?! If you're with that girl, I'll skin you alive!

Ah, there you are!

Come home at once!

I hope you do not blame me, Mademoiselle,

for asking for your help?

No, Monsieur,

I am glad.

Look.

Now they will have their future.

You and I are elephants, you know...

we're good at remembering.

No, no, no, Madame, we are human beings.

And, human beings, mercifully,

they can forget.