All language subtitles for 1d996d99d56269767bd51c7ed5dff33f2d8173aae96c1215176bd0e8147f1cc808899d98f175aded7943049418bc55afc9af91b6c99ceaeed80e0724e74a

They're waiting for you in the drawing room,
sir.

Thank you, Barnsby.

Oh, Barnsby?

I'd rather like you to join us,

if you don't mind.

Have you found Lady Ridgeley's jewels?

Yes, Inspector, have you found my cabochon ruby?

No, Your Ladyship,
but I have found something else.

The identity of Lorcl Fenley's murderer.

Inspector, you're not trying
to imply that one of us

could have actually performed
such a loathsome deed?

It's quite ridiculous.

I simply don't believe it.

Not only do I believe it, Mr. Montrose,

but I have the evidence to prove it.

All of you had sufficient motive.

It could have been any one of you.

You, Sir Derek, have been falsifying
the accounts of Fenley Industries

with the help of your son-in-Iaw Mr. Foxwell.

And you were also aware that Lady Ridgeley

was having an affair with Lorcl Fenley
which ended abruptly

when he resumed his dalliance with Lady Foxcroft.

You see, she had stumbled upon
the knowledge that Barnsby

was in truth Lord Fenley's half brother

and the illegitimate father of Mr. Peter Montrose,

who was planning to gain control
of Fenley Industries

with the help of Mr. Da Silva,

who risked bankruptcy if the plot failed.

Yes, you all had motives.

Any one of you could have clone it.

But only one of you did.

A person sitting in this room?

At this very moment?

Yes, Miss Kate, in this very room.

Inspector, this ridiculous cat-and-mouse game
has gone on long enough!

Very well, then.

Lord Fenley's murderer...

Oh, no.

Oh, clear, oh, clear.

Lights, Mr. Paycock, please.

I'll have it fixed in no time, no time at all.

I'd say that's highly unlikely.

Oh, clear.

Now we'll never know who did it.

It does seem rather obvious who the murderer was.

Who, Miss Marple?

Do tell us.

Was it Sir Derek?

I hardly think so, Miss Giles.

It's unlikely he would have murdered
his business partner,

not while he only had 49 percent of the business,

and the controlling interest
would have reverted to Lord Fenley's sister,

a bitter enemy of Sir Derek's.

I'll bet it was that young blaggard Lord Peter.

Impossible, Major... Excuse me, clear.

The only tracks leading to Lord Fenley's estate
that evening were bicycle tracks.

But he hated Lord Fenley.

Yes, but you forget,
young Peter had a birth defect

which caused a malfunction to the inner ear.

This loss of equilibrium in his system
would have made it impossible

for him to maintain his balance on a bicycle.

Good night, Major.

Excuse me, Mrs. Morley-Smith.

- Good night, Dolly.
- Good night, Jane.

I still say it was that awful butler.

It was Barnsby, don't you think, Miss Marple?

I most certainly do not.

But the revolver in his drawer?

Mr. Parksly, Barnsby had never been
to Lord Fenley's estate.

The footprints on the night of the murder
led directly to the smaller bedroom

off the left wing where Lorcl Fenley
frequently sought privacy.

Whoever killed him knew
how to go directly to that room.

Well, then who did do it, Miss Marple?

Who murdered Lord Fenley?

Why, young Miss Kate, of course.

Why do you say Miss Kate?

Because when the body
of Lord Fenley was discovered,

the knife was firmly implanted
in his chest to the left.

A right-handed person
would have clearly been unable to strike

such a thrust in that direction.

If you'd looked closely, you would have noticed.

Miss Kate was twirling her pearls
in her left hand.

Good night, Vicar, I'm sure you'll have
this contraption running in no time.

Good night, all.

She could be wrong, you know.

She's not.

I've seen the picture.

Well, I never would have guessed that ending.

I mean, that girl, she looked so nice.

Human nature, Cherry, clear.

The world of the cinema, the village,
it's all quite the same, really.

Listen to me, Marty.

I don't care what those tea-guzzling
limey sons of bitches are demanding,

those tea-guzzling limey sons of bitches
are gonna make this picture a hit, Marty.

S0 stop playing around
and give them what they want!

Look, I don't want to argue with you.

I'm the director ancl if I want three dozen
poker-playing kangaroos with PhDs,

then you'd better damn well go out and find them.

Do I make myself clear?

Absolutely.

How's Marina?

Oh, Marina?

She's just fine, Marty.

- Thank you, Bates.
- Thank you, Bates.

Mrs. Bantry, I really must apologize.

Marina's had to go
for a costume fitting up to town.

Miss Gregg was particularly anxious

that I should tell you how sorry
she is to have missed you today.

Of course, I quite understand.

By the way, what picture
are you over here to make?

It's called Mary Queen of Scots.

Really?

How very interesting.

Marina was especially keen for me
to double-check with you personally

all the arrangements for the village fete.

She's terrified no one's gonna come.

We are rather intruders here.

My clear, Miss Zielinsky, Miss Gregg's
arrival has caused considerable excitement.

It's not every clay we have a real-life film star

and her director husband
living here at St Mary Mead.

Oh, Jason, we were just talking about you.

- Mr. Rudd, Mrs. Bantry.
- Mrs. Bantry.

How do you do?

I cannot tell you how happy my wife
and I are to be in your house.

Oh, Mr. Rudd, you must get it
out of your head that this is my house.

After the Colonel, my husband, died,

it was much too big for me.

And I'm much more comfortable down at the lodge.

Well, I really must be on my way.

- Would you like some more tea?
- Oh, no more tea, thank you.

- Very nice to have met you, Mr. Rudd.
- Very nice to meet you.

No, no, no, please, please.

I, uh... I think I can find my own way out.

Please give my regards to your wife.

Goodbye, Miss Zielinsky.

Mrs. Ba ntry.

Where's Marina?

Upstairs, out like a light.

Is she taking those damn pills again?

Well, if you shake her, she rattles.

I want her to be happy.

God knows, she's been through enough.

She'll be happy-

Till she gets bored playing
the lady of the manor...

Ella!

Sorry.

Don't spoil it.

Okay?

Okay.

Hello.

A penny each.

Come on, miss.

Here you go.

Now, boys, don't drink this too quickly.

Otherwise, you're going to have very sore tummies.

Quite a turn-out.

More like Buckingham Palace than Gossington Hall.

Mind you, it plays havoc with the lawn.

Ah, good afternoon, Mrs. Bantry, Miss Giles.

Good afternoon, Major, Jane.

Darling, Miss Giles.

Do you think she'll come down?

Who?

Marina Gregg, the film star!

Really, Miss Marple.

Well, I don't know anything
about film stars, Miss Giles,

but if this gathering is any indication
of her local interest,

I'm sure that Miss Gregg
won't disappoint her fans.

I do hope not.

I'm sure Mr. Foxley, our clear postman,
will herald her arrival with suitable fanfare.

Steady, boys, steady, don't rush.

Don't rush.

Miss Marple, you were right!

Can you turn this way, please?

Just one more, just one more!

- Excuse me, just a smile, thank you.
- You look great!

- Mrs. Babcock?
- Yes?

Miss Gregg would like to personally thank those
of you that worked so hard.

Perhaps you'd like to come up to the hall.

Oh, yes, oh, yes indeed!

Oh, I'd be absolutely thrilled,
thank you very much!

Oh, isn't it exciting?

- You know, Wendy...
- Yes, I know, you met her once.

Oh!

Major, ladies, we'd be honored
if you'd join us up at the house for refreshments.

Yes, indeed, most kind.

We'd be delighted, wouldn't we?

She's so beautiful.

But not much of a shot, is she?

Oh, thank you, my friends.

My new, clear, wonderful, sweet friends, thank you.

Marina.

Jason's screaming for you,
your guests are piling up.

Oh, but I'm having such fun.

Try a little restraint.

Perhaps I could borrow some of yours.

We seem to be sharing so much these clays.

Now, boys and girls, on your marks.

Ready, steady, 9°!

Roy, come here, come here.

Roy!

Come here, boy, come along.

That's a good boy, sit, there.

Freddie... Freddie Hawkins!

Would you kindly take control of your dog?

You know perfectly well
he should be held on his lead.

Sorry, Miss Marple.

Roy, Roy!

Oh, Miss Marple!

Oh, goodness.

Are you alright?

That'll teach me to be dogmatic.

- Can I have one?
- Thank you.

- Can I have a spoon?
- Here's a spoon.

I assure you, Dr. Haydock,
I'm perfectly alright.

Perhaps you'd care to join the egg-and-spoon race.

It's just about to start.

- You had a nasty fall.

Nonsense, I'm not even shaken.

In fact, I'm amazed that nothing's broken.

You got away with just a sprain.

I never did discover
the secret of your bone structure.

Long brisk walks as a young woman, I expect.

Well, you're not walking anywhere for a few clays.

I'll run you back in my car.

That's it, I'll fill you in on all the gossip
you'll be missing up at the hall

- when I call round to see you tomorrow.
- Gossip?

I prefer to call it a healthy interest
in human nature.

- Cherry.
- Yes, Mr. Bates?

See to that lot upstairs, will you?

They're doing their best to drink us dry.

I'm afraid, Miss Gregg,
that it would seem that our committee

have always felt that your films are a little,

how shall I say, risqué for our monthly
soiree in the village hall.

How sweet of you.

Your lemonade, Vicar.

Oh, thank you, most kind.

Marina, honey, the mayor is upstairs.

- I think you should...
- Oh, yeah, yeah.

- Do excuse me.
- Yes.

- Excuse me.
- Is this your first visit

to the United Kingdom, Mr. Rudd?

Why, no, I've been...

Oh, what a divine necklace!

Well clone, Mr. Rudd.

First-rate show.

Ah, Mrs. Babcock.

Mrs. Babcock is our untiring secretary.

The Women's Institute
would be quite lost without her.

I'm sure she's been wonderful.

Now, Miss Giles, how about your cat?

- I keep forgetting its name.
- Matthew.

- That's right!
- Your dear wife had a cat.

Yes, but it always suffered from eczema.

Carrots, mashed carrots
and a little warm milk works wonders.

Marina?

Mrs. Babcock, Miss Gregg.

- Miss Gregg, Mrs. Babcock.
- Mrs. Babcock, lovely to see you.

Oh, Miss Gregg.

I know this is very silly,

and I'm sure you don't remember,
not with all the millions of people you meet...

No, no, no, of course not, how could you?

It was ages ago.

It was during the war.

I was in Plymouth in the Wrens

and you came over to entertain
all those marvelous GIs.

Oh, I remember it so well,
just like it was yesterday.

I told you I lost my borage,
last year in the frost?

Oh, I'm terribly sorry about that,
you know what to do, don't you?

- N0.
- Cut it right down to the ground in the...

Oh, Mr. Rudd, I understand
that you are a film producer.

Oh, no, sir, a director.

Is there any difference?

Yes, sir.

The producer supplies all the money,
the director spends it.

Then the producer yells at the director
for spending too much money,

the director doesn't pay any attention
and goes on spending.

The director gets the credit,
the producer gets an ulcer.

You see, it's all very simple.

Excuse me.

- It's Lola Brewster!
- It is?

Yes, it is!

Miss Brewster!

Uh-oh.

Mary Queen of Sluts
and Baby Bernhardt uncler the same roof.

That's all we need.

Miss Brewster, look this way please.

Oh, I was so thrilled.

Absolutely thrilled.

You were wearing
that wonderful blue sparkling dress.

Do you remember what you sang?

I'll Be Seeing You.

Oh, I was a mad fan of yours.

How sweet, how absolutely, perfectly sweet.

Oh, but then the most awful thing happened.

Or I thought it was awful.

I was terribly upset.

Do you mean to say you actually met Clark Gable?

Is he married at the moment
or is it just a rumor that he's a lonely person?

- Jason.
- That the fellow with the big ears?

- Excuse me.
- Oh, Major.

- Lola's here.
- What?

- Marty brought her.
- Why in the hell did he bring her here?

I wasn't ill, just poorly.

You know what I mean?

Then I had this idea.

You see, I didn't have a ticket or anything.

Save it for the Oscars.

But this is the most extraordinary part.

You'll never guess who my uncle was.

He was the stage door keeper.

Now isn't...

Jason, darling!

My Svengali.

- Glad you could make it.
- Where is sweet Marina?

Jason, baby.

Nice spread you got here.

I ought to spread you across this room
for bringing her here.

Publicity, bubby.

That's what keeps
Martin N Fenn Productions in business.

S0 there I was in the theatre,
standing in the wings.

It was my first time there.

It was so exciting.

Oh, you were wonderful!

And when the curtain came down,
you gave me your autograph

ancl you let me kiss you.

Oh, yes, you did!

Oh, it was worth it a hundred times.

I've never forgotten it...

I do believe it was
the most exciting clay of my life...

What a nice little story, clear.

Now what will you have to drink?

Jason makes a perfectly wonderful daiquiri,
you'll adore it.

Thank you.

- Honey.
- Oh, Jason, darling.

- We'd like two of your special daiquiris.
- Sure.

Are you alright?

- I'm fine, Jason.
- Are you sure?

Yes.

That's great, thank you, Miss Brewster.

Marina, darling!

I didn't see you.

Why, Lola.

What a delightful surprise.

You're looking as lovely as always.

Of course, there are fewer lights on than usual.

In fact, any fewer
and I'd need a seeing-eye dog.

Oh, I shouldn't bother to buy one, clear.

In that wig you could play Lassie.

Same adorable sense of humor.

And I'm so glad to see you not only kept
your gorgeous figure,

- but you've added so much to it.
- What are you doing here so early, clear?

I thought the plastic surgery seminar
was in Switzerland.

Actually, darling,
I couldn't wait to begin our little movie.

You know the saying,
"Once an actress, always an actress."

Oh, I do know the saying.

But what does it have to do with you?

Cute angel.

So do tell, how does it feel
to be back after being away so long?

Love your outfit, darling.

Drink, Mrs. Babcock?

Mr. Rudd is getting me one himself, thank you.

What are you supposed to be, a birthday cake?

Too bad everybody's had a piece.

Can we have a big smile, ladies?

Chin up, darling, both of them.

A little bit closer, please, ladies.

Lola, clear, you know there really
are only two things I dislike about you.

Really, what are they?

Your face.

Thank you.

- One daiquiri special.
- Oh... oh, thank you very much.

- I've never really tried one before.
- Enjoy it.

- Here you are, my clear.
- Oh, thank you, darling.

Now then, how are my two favorite stars
getting along?

What are you trying to do, Marty,
give Marina another breakdown?

Why would I want to do a thing like that, pumpkin?

Come on.

Remember they used to grind
glass in each other's cold cream.

One would only kiss the other
if she had viral pneumonia.

They're professionals,
they take their job seriously.

- S0 did Attila the Hun.
- Marina, baby!

Oh, Marty, darling.

How thoughtful of you
to bring Lola to my party.

You know, I've always thought of Lola
as one of my oldest, oldest friends.

Jason, darling, I'm certainly looking
forward to working under you again.

Watch it, Lola.

Jason, how about a drink with an old pal?

- I only drink with friends.
- Ancl what am I, chopped chicken liver?

Bad enough forcing me
to use your wife in this picture,

but bringing her here with Marina
in the condition she's in.

- Jason, think of the picture!
- I am thinking of the picture!

- And the sanity of my leading lady!
- Oh, Bubby, listen to me.

She's gonna be fine.

I'm looking out for our best interests.

Our best interests?

Hey, De Mille, why don't you face reality?

When was the last time Marina made a movie,
what was it, The Advent of Sound?

And when did you direct a movie
that was any damn good?

- Well, I'll tell you...
- Now, listen to me.

If Martin N Fenn wants to get publicity
for his two leading ladies,

he's gonna get it, without any dissent.

Because the esteemed director and his wife

are only here because of his good wishes.

And if he wishes, he can pull the plug
any time he wants, you got it?

- Whoopee.
- Good.

So go down there and relax and enjoy the party.

- You know what?
- What?

- You're a bastard.
- Of course I'm a bastard, I'm the producer.

Oh, Mr. Rudd.

I believe I've reached some understanding

about the difference between
a producer and a director.

But who chooses the leading lady?

Whoever's sleeping with her.

Eh, Vicar, may I introduce
our noted producer Mr. Martin N. Fenn?

I'm sure he'll tell you everything
you want to know.

What would you like to know, Vicar, baby?

I'm sorry about your ulcers, Mr. Fenn.

What?

Jason, we've got a problem upstairs.

- That woman...
- Marina.

And then the police came.

They took everybody's name.

They kept us there for hours, they did.

Ijust couldn't believe it.

I mean, she seemed as right as rain.

She was only five years older than me.

There was an awful flap.

Poor Mrs. Babcock.

I mean, she just had one drink
ancl about five minutes later,

she sits down, sort of gasps

and then she's dead, poor thing.

What do you think of that?

Don't forget under the curtains, Cherry clear.

- Miss Marple, I hope you don't mind.
- Mind?

Well, me doing Saturdays up at the hall,

I did so want to see all those film stars.

- I mean, it's not going to upset you?
- No, Cherry, clear.

It won't upset me.

In fact, it might even prove useful.

Really?

Put that cluster away and sit down
and tell me everything that happened.

- Well...
- Exactly as it happened.

- Well, I was moving about...
- Yes, of course,

but what precisely did you see?

Well, the whole village was there, of course.

And there was a girl taking pictures.

Well, just about everybody.

There was Marina Gregg and her husband.

Oh, I liked him.

I think he's smashing.

- Cherry, clear.
- Oh, sorry.

Oh, then... then the secretary girl
came up with Heather Babcock

and Heather shook hands with Miss Gregg

and then she went into
a boring old story about how they'd met years ago.

On and on she went.

I thought Miss Gregg was gonna fall asleep.

Honestly, she did go on, so.

Then a few minutes later,
you served Heather a drink

and not long afterwards, she dies.

Oh, no, no, I didn't serve her.

It was Mr. Rudd.

- One daiquiri special.
- Oh, thank you.

Enjoy it.

I don't think she really liked it.

Thank you, Cherry clear, you've been very helpful.

- Have I?
- Extremely.

Oh, good.

Oh, I'll get it.

- Morning, Cherry.
- Morning, Doctor.

Good morning, Miss Marple.

- How's the leg?
- Good morning, Dr. Haydock.

You know, I think it's very much better.

Shall I do upstairs now, Miss Marple,
or finish here in the lounge?

- This is the drawing room, Cherry, clear.
- Sorry, drawing room.

- Upstairs, I think.
- Right.

Oh, later on, I'll bring you in a nice cup of tea.

Poor Heather Babcock.

Mm.

She was a patient of yours, wasn't she?

She was on my list.

Heart trouble?

Nothing wrong with her heart.

- Which does rather...
- Stick out your tongue.

- Say "ah".
- Ah.

- Put it back.
- Which does rather suggest poison.

I think we should leave that
to the coroner, don't you?

Glad to see you started my treatment.

Treatment?

Unravelling, aren't I right?

You will have your little joke, Dr. Haydock.

You can't pull the wool over my eyes, clear lady.

Look at you, your cheeks are pink,
your eyes bright.

You're enjoying yourself.

Isn't that so?

Dr. Haydock, I would be very distressed
if I thought you believed

that the only excitement in my life was predicated
on the unfortunate fate of helpless victims

who somehow seem to fall into my path.

Upon examination, the deceased's body was found
to contain massive traces of a barbiturate.

Phenobarbital.

Unquestionably the cause of death.

Had she a medical history for which
such a drug could have been prescribed?

Virtually none, sir.

Apart from chickenpox as a child
and German measles during the war.

According to her doctor,
she was in excellent health.

Thank you.

Bearing in mind the evidence we have heard,

I have no choice but to record
a verdict of murder by poison

at the hand of person or persons unknown.

- Dermot!
- Hello, Aunt Jane.

My favorite nephew, what a pleasant surprise.

- What are you doing here?
- Why, I've come to see you.

Or to enquire about Heather Babcock.

What would a chief inspector from Scotland Yard
be doing in St Mary Mead

if poor Heather had clied of natural causes?

Well, he might have been passing by and suddenly
had a craving for some of your special peach jam.

Now, Dermot, you know very well
I haven't made peach jam

since taphrina deformans attacked my Russell reds.

Now come and sit down
and let's have a little chat, shall we?

It was poison, wasn't it?

Aunt Jane, you wouldn't mind very much
I suppose ifl anyway began

by asking the question, would you?

The poison was apparently an American barbiturate,

marketed uncler the name of Calmadon.

It appears the principal ingredient of it is,
um...

Phenylethylmalonylurea.

I know it from my clays
at Bridge Hampton Hospital in the war.

Mixed with alcohol,
it causes respiratory depression.

A drop in blood pressure, feeble heartbeat.

Quite deadly, in fact.

Ancl you naturally knew the victim, Babcock?

Ooh, yes, of course.

She was a simple soul, friendly enough.

A bit of a bore,
but you don't kill someone for that.

If you did, there'd be no one left in the village.

Well.

So you're not being much help, Aunt Jane.

No, I realize that.

So Mrs. Babcock refused your offer of a drink?

Yes, she said Mr. Rudd was getting her one.

- I told you that.
- And Miss Gregg?

- It's funny you should say that.
- Funny?

Well, not funny, kind of strange, really.

Go on, Cherry, slowly.

Try to remember everything.

Well, it... it was a sort of look
on Marina Gregg's face.

What kind of a look?

Sad, angry!

Surprise, frightened?

- I don't know.
- Dermot, really, Cherry, clear, take your time.

Think back, try to remember the precise look.

Well, it was sort of...

frozen.

She was staring over Heather Babcock's shoulder

like she wasn't listening to what she was saying.

Go on, clear.

Well, she was looking towards the stairs.

There's a sort of religious picture there.

Then Lola Brewster arrived with
her husband, the producer.

Funny man,
wouldn't be surprised if he dyes his hair.

The girl took a photo.

Heather Babcock was rattling on and Miss Gregg
had this sort of strange frozen look.

What specifically was she looking at?

The people?

The picture?

- Obviously one of the people.
- Oh, why do you say that?

Well, really, Dermot,
she sees the picture every clay.

Absolutely.

I'm so sorry, Aunt.

Uh, now, how long did Miss Gregg
remain looking at that picture?

The Lady of Shallot.

Aunt Jane?

Out flew the web ancl oated wide,
the mirror crack'd from side to side.

The curse has come upon me
cried The Lady of Shallot.

Tennyson, of course.

I do have a weakness for Tennyson.

Ancl it does seem a rather suitable description.

Go on, Cherry, clear, continue with your story.

Nothing much more to tell, really.

Lola Brewster came up to Miss Gregg.

I don't think they like each other much,
if you ask me.

They had some pictures taken
and then Mr. Rudd came up.

- Oh, he's so handsome.
- Cherry, clear,

we want to hear about Miss Babcock and Miss Gregg.

Did anything else happen?

No, I don't think I've left anything out.

Heather spilled her drink
and Miss Gregg walked away.

Spmed?

You say Heather spilled her drink?

Oh, yeah, oh, didn't I say that?

Oh, I must have forgot.

I am silly, aren't I?

- Oh, Miss Gregg, I'm so terribly sorry.
- It's perfectly alright.

- Oh, will it stain?
- I'm sure not, I'm sure not.

Here, no, you take mine, I haven't touched it.

- Oh, no, no, I couldn't.
- Please, it's no problem.

I'll get another.

So.

Heather Babcock drank from Marina Gregg's glass.

Fate was rather unkind to poor Heather Babcock.

Seems we've been dealing with the wrong murder.

I suggest you proceed to Gossington Hall
first thing in the morning.

To put to use all those cunning skills
I've inherited from a certain relative?

You know, Dermot,
you really are my favorite nephew.

I'll let Mr. Rudd know you are here, sir.

- Inspector Craddock?
- Yes.

Mr. Rudd will be with you as soon as he can,

but I'm afraid I must warn you,
he's awfully tied up.

- Tied up?
- Inspector,

have you any idea what making a movie entails?

We have wardrobe tests, we have make-up tests,
we have lighting tests.

Rainbows End.

I beg your pardon?

Yes, it was Marina Gregg's
first Academy Award, wasn't it?

- Yes.
- Oh, I'll never forget that last scene.

So vivid, real.

Vulnerability, Miss Zielinsky.

Her modus operandi
Journey Home, Paradise Road.

Absolute conviction.

This indestructible ability to make us care.

- Now, they were facing this way.
- Inspector?

I'm sorry, the guests when they were introduced.

Yes, that's right.

Those eyes.

Violent.

Mesmerizing.

- It's a copy, of course.
- No, no, no.

I was referring to Miss Gregg's eyes.

Yes, my earliest memory of those eyes
was in Tomorrow's Dawn.

She played a young socialite heiress
who came from...

Now, where was it she came from?

- Boston.
- Boston, that's right!

She came from Boston
and inherited land in California.

- Inspector, do you mind...
- Do you remember that scene

where they threatened to dig up her land?

The way she stood up to those gold-miners,

that sweet, helpless young butterfly.

Tell me, might I speak to her, please?

- I'm sorry, she's resting.
- Oh.

- Well, perhaps later?
- Perhaps.

But sweet, helpless young butterflies
do need their rest.

That snake-eyed son of a bitch, Marty Fenn!

He always did have the class of a toad!

And he's putting up the money
for your comeback, so you'd better calm down.

And putting that peroxide floozy into my film!

Ancl as the virgin queen!

She's in two lousy scenes,

neither of them with you.

Lola Brewster, actress.

If she's read the script,
I'd see a blister on her finger.

It's your picture all the way, sweetheart.

Nobody's will remember anyone else in it.

Oh, Jinksy.

- Do you really mean that?
- I'll make sure of it.

Oh, God.

God, it has been so long.

You don't think there's
any chance I have lost it, do you?

Oh, you'll be better than ever.

I promise.

My love.

You're so good for me.

You always have been.

Oh, damn her!

That bitch, if you look at her carefully,
there's so many lines on her face,

you could drive a train on it!

Maybe I won't shoot her through a filter.

Filter?

Try using an Indian blanket.

You're gonna have to dub her voice in too.

Or write a line in the script
that Elizabeth is from Hoboken, New Jersey.

Oh.

Bags, bags, 9° aWaY,

come right back on Doris Day.

- Hello?
- Jason, where the he/I are you?

Lola's been sitting here
for 20 minutes waiting for you.

She likes the feathers so much,
she wants them in the costume.

I told her, a queen only wears feathers
if she lives in Hollywood,

but she won't believe me.

Jason, will you get your ass over here!

- I've been thinking, poopsie.
- Oh, that's a new experience!

Maybe we should bring in Alexander for my hair.

Lamb chop, if I've told you once,
I've told you a thousand times:

Queen Elizabeth was bald.

- Not in this movie, she ain't.
- It's history.

So is Lola Brewster.

I'll be majestic.

Awesome.

Inspiring.

I'm going to wipe that cow right off the screen.

Let's see, we're gonna need some scenes
with the two of us together,

so the world can see
how much younger ancl thinner I am.

Lola, baby, Elizabeth ancl Mary never met.

Oh, maybe they meet at the market.

No, of course not,
she'd never do her own shopping.

The beauty parlor?

No, they'd come to her.

Wait a minute.

I've got it.

I come to see her at the Tower of London.

It's right before the beheading

and the rats are crawling all over her.

She's in rags, looking like shit.

Ancl in walks...

me.

- Inspector, I do have things to do.
- Yes, yes, of course.

Miss Gregg and Miss Brewster, are they very close?

Close?

If you put the two of them together
in a tank with a shark,

the shark would have an identity crisis.

Tell me, I'm curious, who's younger,
Marina Gregg or Lola Brewster?

- Neither one.
- Bless you.

Oh.

Oh, you alright?

- Hay fever.
- Those are maddening things, allergies.

I'm allergic to wool.

I find a tranquilizer helps me.

I use a drug called Calmadon.

- Do you know of it?
- We ship it in by the barrel.

Oh, does Miss Gregg take it?

By the time this movie's over,
there may be a world shortage.

- Do you take it?
- Do I have a choice?

Ah, I think it must be very exciting working
for someone like Marina Gregg.

I'm sure she's a grand person.

Inspector, Marina Gregg can make
Medusa look like St Bernadette.

- Why don't you change your job?
- What, and quit show business?

I used to work for Jason before they were married.

I've learned to live
with her tantrums and her breakdowns.

Breakdowns?

But the image she projects
on the screen is so rational.

Tell me about them.

- It's all rather turgid.
- No, really, I'm fascinated.

Well, you can't mention illness or insanity

or anything to do with children.

That's most interesting.

Why not?

Inspector, I really can't go into it.

I'm sure that Mr. Rudd
is a tower of strength to her.

Devoted beyond the call of duty.

- Ancl Mr. Henn?
- Marty Fenn is a producer.

He only lies when he speaks.

I should think they've been
pretty unsettled by the murder?

Murder?

Inspector, we have a picture to make.

We can't be bothered by little local difficulties.

Ah, Mr. Rudd.

- Could I ask you a few questions?
- Sorry, I'm in a rush.

Talk to my secretary, she'll arrange an interview.

But I'm not a reporter.

Mr. Rudd.

Yes?

Tell him I'm on my way, damn it.

Ten minutes!

- Mr. Rudd.
- I told you, not now.

I'm Inspector Craddock, Scotland Yard.

Everything we're doing is according to form.

Using British crew, British extras,
I have waivers on my two leading ladies.

I assure you, we're in total compliance.

Mind ifl might interrupt you.

I'm sure you're going to make a very fine picture
without the aid of Scotland Yard.

I happen to be here on a minor matter of murder.

Oh, yes, uh, Miss, uh.

Babcock, Heather Babcock.

I'm truly sorry.

If I might talk to your wife?

I'm sorry, no one may see her.

She's resting' Doctor's orders,
now if you'll excuse me.

Mr. Rudd, it's very important that I talk to her.

Inspector, my wife is about to start the most
important role of her career.

Every ounce of energy is being devoted toward
preparing this role.

She is going to win her third Academy Award
and I will not distract her with...

Mundane matters like murder.

- Whatever you say, Inspector.
- Jinks.

Well, that's all very well and good.

I firmly believe your wife deserves a third Oscar.

I think she should have got it
for Summer Rain, actually.

But has it occurred to you the death
of Heather Babcock wasn't entirely accidental?

That the intended victim was, in fact, your wife?

Now may I see her, please?

No, you may not.

My wife has been through a lot
and I'm not only talking about last Saturday.

I'm sorry, but you're not going
to give her a nervous breakdown.

Now, if you will excuse me.

I believe she's had several all ready.

- Several what?
- Breakdowns.

- Who told you that?
- I thought it was common knowledge.

Ah, it's nice of you to let them play here.

What?

Oh, the gardener's kids.

I thought they might have upset Miss Gregg.

Alright, Inspector, let's stop playing games.

There was a time years ago
when Marina wanted children, badly.

The doctors told her
she could never have any, so she adopted two.

Then a few years later,

she was still married to her first husband.

She found out she was actually
going to have one of her own.

Unfortunately,
the child was born mentally retarded.

An imbecile.

Marina had a complete breakdown.

She hasn't worked since.

I see.

Now maybe you can understand
what this film means to her.

That she actually has the guts to appear
in front of a camera again.

Yes, indeed.

This film's gonna turn everything around for her.

That's why if she ever found out, even suspected,

- she was the intended victim...
- You don't believe the thought

has entered her mind?

Not for a minute.

The idea of someone wanting to murder
your wife doesn't bother you?

You've been seeing too many
Charlie Chan movies, Inspector.

Look, I'll be here the whole time.

When I'm not,
my secretary won't let her out of her sight.

- You trust Miss Zielinsky?
- Of course I trust her.

She was there, she had the opportunity.

- Ella is devoted to my wife.
- And to you too?

Jason, Marty phoned again!

He says if you're not there
in ten minutes, he's getting John Houston!

Will there be anything else, Inspector?

Is that the Martin N Fenn
who produced the Terror in Trinidad?

The one and only.

I've always wondered what the N stood for.

Noidea.

How about "knockwurst"?

- Oh, Mr. Rudd.
- What?

I was really most impressed with The Last Brigade.

In particularly, ifl may say so,
with your very subtle use of low-key lighting.

Why, thank you.

Shouldn't you be resting that foot, Aunt Jane?

Old Edward's got his rheumatism again.

I really can't let the garden
become like a jungle.

Do you think Mr. Rudd is fond of his wife?

- I'd say he adores her.
- What about Miss Zielinsky?

Business-like, efficient.

Seemingly loyal.

Suffers from hay fever.

- Attractive?
- Yes, in a uncalculated sort of way.

Well, that's a very austere assessment, Dermot.

Maybe, but what are you implying, Aunt Jane?

I'm implying absolutely nothing.

I just find your lack of emotion,
shall we say, a bit studied.

Oh, alright.

If you prefer I were more direct,

then I'd say that given the right time,
the right place,

that Miss Zielinsky
is probably hotter than a pistol.

Hmm, perhaps we should return to austerity.

Well, you brought it up.

Seriously,
do you believe she was telling the truth?

Well, let's say, I think she allowed
her loyalties t0 become quite transparent.

- Her feelings for Mr. Rudd.
- Exactly.

- A prime suspect, I'd say.
- Oh, would you, now?

Well, well.

- Where are you off to?
- I'm off to the glamorous world of movie making.

I see this is not a particularly taxing case
for you, Dermot.

Well, show business
is just a business, Aunt Jane.

What we need is a little more business
and a little less show.

In fact, there's a wonderful saying I read
not too long ago about Hollywood:

"Underneath all that phony tinsel
lies the real tinsel."

- That's very profound, Aunt Jane.
- Better be careful, Dermot.

They're liable to mistake you for Leslie Howard
and put you in the picture.

Well, I do have a certain charm,
or so I've been told.

Perhaps it's time it was discovered.

Dermot!
First discover Heather Babcock's murderer.

Well, I'd better work fast
before someone else does it for me.

Shooting next time!
Let's have a shooting bell.

- Okay, very quiet, everybody!
- All right, roll the camera!

- Speed. Mark it.
- Forget the board.

Lola Brewster, make-up test. Take one.

Board on end.

Alright, Lola honey, turn left.

Slowly.

Lovely.

Now hold it there a moment.

Down with the chin a little...
Up with the eyes.

Good... now, keep the chin down.

- Lovely.
- Excuse me, gov.

- Could you check this?
- Oh, yeah.

Dimmer on the key light, Novi.

Down a bit... whoa!

It's not dark enough...
Don't you have Italian blood?

It's the stuff we always use, gov...
Kensington Gore.

Slowly back the other way, will you?

It looks like water... don't you people know
that blood is thicker than water?

I want it thick, like tomato juice.

Excuse me, sir, could you have a look
at the guards, please?

Keep the chin down... darling,
slowly back the other way.

Lovely.

They're supposed to be the queen's soldiers,
not her ballerinas.

- Yes, sir. Leave it to me, sir. Come on.
- Ouch.

- All right, come on.
- G0, go.

Now turn your head right.

No, dear, not your shoulders,
just your head.

Right... no, dear, your right.

- Jason!
- Cut!

Save the red!

Yes, my clear.

Lest we forget,
you do have an actress in this movie,

one who also happens
to be married to the producer.

No, my clear, I haven't forgotten.

Now, I think it's important we discuss
the queen's relationship with her father.

Lola, when the picture begins,
the father's been dead over 3O years.

Now, why don't you go to your dressing room
and put on a nice new costume, okay?

I told Marty we should have got George Cukor.

Swords and blood, that's all he thinks about.

That and that over-stuffed psycho of a wife...
Will you get your paws out of my hair?

Where did you get this wig, Woolworths?

Calls himself a director.

Did you see his last picture?
I could eat a can of Kodak

and puke a better movie.

Oh, why, you must be Inspector Craddock.

They told me you'd be here.
How sweet of you to come.

Oh, Ms. Brewster, I'm a great fan of yours.

Well, isn't that nice?
Ancl I know you'll excuse me while I change, hm?

Yes... yes, of course.
Please, you... you... you carry... carry on.

Now, tell me, Inspector clear,
what's on your mind?

I have a few questions regarding the murder
of Mrs. Heather Babcock.

- Who?
- The woman up at Gossington Hall.

Oh, yes. Who was she, an extra?

Ow! The zipper, you moron.
It's caught in my rump!

- I'm sorry, Ms. Brewster.
- If I might digress for a moment,

uh, I'd like... oh, I'm so sorry...

To, um... to ask about your relationship
with Marina Gregg.

Gregg? Gregg, that name rings a bell.

- Oh, come now, Ms. Brewster.
- Oh, I'm just teasing you, Sherlock.

Of course I know Marina Gregg.

Isn't she that aging, broken-down ex-star

trying so desperately for a comeback?

Here, try combing this out...
They may find Amelia Earhart.

Now, tell me, Inspector clear,
why don't you ask me

some more of those searching questions?

Ijust love being examined,

especially by someone as cute as you.

- Um, what I'm particularly...
- Are you really from Scotland Yard?

A real-life Inspector?
Ijust can hardly believe it.

A real-life Inspector in my dressing room.

Oh, just think of me as a...

What you call a "cop."

Only if you brought your nightstick, honey.

Uh... Ms. Brewster.

Oh, I'm sorry, I've upset you. Forgive me.

I promise I'll be a good girl.

Now, about Marina.

Well, what can I say?
She was a great star... was.

I mean, when I was just
a teensy-weensy little girl,

my grandmother used to take me
to see all of her movies.

Ancl then about ten years ago,

around my 16th birthday,
she had this awful collapse, poor thing.

Drugs, alcohol, insanity.

It's not easy when you've hit rock bottom.

Marty and I felt the least we could do
was to give her a part in my picture.

Yes, that's very charitable.

Ow, not so tight.

Um, Ms. Brewster?

- Inspector?
- Wasn't there some kind of trouble

between you and Ms. Gregg a few years ago?

- Trouble? Why,

- whatever do you mean?
- When Ms. Gregg began seeing Mr. Rudd,

- weren't you and Mr. Rudd...
- Now, Inspector.

That's ancient history.

Besides, Jason ancl I were ending it anyway.

I was only too happy
to see Marina find a little companionship,

lonely and pathetic creature that she was.

Is that why you aimed and fired
a short-barrel 9 millimeter Luger

at her skull,
missing it by two-and-a-half inches?

- Did the bitch tell you that?
- No, no, Ms. Brewster.

The Beverly Hills Police Department.

All right, so I got a little miffed.

I may be a great star, but I'm still human.

Human enough to try it again?

Only this time with poison?

Are you insinuating?

Merely exploring the possibility.

Uh, ready, Ms. Brewster.

Well, it seems that I must take my leave.

Thank you for our little... chat, Ms. Brewster.

Ancl jolly good luck with your picture.

Ms. Brewster, we're waiting.

Screw Scotland Ya rd!

Ah!

Sorry, ma'am.

I was just taking a walk down to the village.

It's that way, ma'am.

Ah.

Cherry clear, are the post office
playing with the telephone lines again?

Don't think so, ma'am.

Gossington Hall.

Hello?

Hello?

What is that girl up to?

I saw you.

I saw you put the poison in Marina's glass.

I saw you.

Uh, look, that, uh, part's been cast.

Why didn't you call last week?
Leave your name and address with my secretary

and then we'll call you when...

Actors.

You know about actors, don't you?
They all live up there somewhere.

I knew a broad once.
I was making a Civil War epic.

We were supposed to
shoot a big scene that clay.

She comes to me,

tells me she can't work that week.
You know why?

Because her astrologist

tells her it's, uh, "not in the stars."

S0,

I, uh, pay this little creep a visit.

I give him a grand, right?

He tells her the stars
have made a sudden shift,

ancl if she doesn't report to work
every morning on time,

she's gonna lose her sex drive.

The next morning
she was there before the janitor.

- Won't you sit down?
- Thank you.

Yes, Fields of Glory, wasn't it?

- Yeah, did you see that?
- Yes... found it a bit melodramatic.

- It's not a very positive...
- The only thing positive thing about it

- was the negative.
- Ah.

Inspector, what's on your mind, eh?

Um, how long have you known Ms. Gregg?

Marina? We've been friends a long time.

Have the two of you been, uh, intimate?

"Intimate"? Yeah, we've been "intimate."

Everybody in Hollywood is "intimate."

Swifty! How are you, Swifty?
What are you doing?

Oh, things are great.
Look, the girl's got the best spot in the picture.

What do you want me to do?
I can't, Swifty... you gotta give me a break.

Come on! Wonderful.

I owe you one. Thanks, pal.

Agents.

He thinks he's got a lot of class.

He once sold me an actress,
said she was great.

I called her the next morning...
She'd been dead for six months.

- Please, go on... I'm sorry.
- Oh, thank you.

Um, now then, about Ms. Gregg.

Let me tell you something about Marina.

Secure, she ain't.

Under all that jewelry is a sad, insecure lady.

Mm... is there anyone that you could think of
who might want to harm Ms. Gregg?

Yeah, Hedda Hopper.

No, I mean anyone involved in the picture.

You, for instance.

Me? I'm the producer.

I'm coming up with $3.5 million
to make this movie.

You think I'm going to bump off my leading lady
two clays before I start shooting the picture?

I've got contracts at Radio City Music Hall
for Christmas!

Unless, of course,
someone else bumps her off.

Well, if someone else bumps her off,

I'll prop her up and dub her to get her
at the Radio City Music Hall at Christmas.

Harry, I want those pictures up here right now.

I don't care if she's having tea
with Mickey Mouse,

tell her to bring the pictures up here now!

Excuse me.
Anything else I can help you with?

- Uh, I've got a picture to make.
- Um, yes.

- Oh, just one thing, Mr. Penn.
- Sure.

- I've always been curious about...
- What?

What does the "N" stand for?

You want to know what it stands for?
I'll tell you what it stands for.

Nothing... but it sure looks great
on that big silver screen, doesn't it?

- Yes.
- Goodbye.

- Oh, and thanks for your time, Mr. Fenn.
- Please, any time.

Get me the coast.

What do you mean, what coast?

Chief Inspector Craddock, madam.

Ms. Gregg?

That man is working on the lawn
with such dedication.

I'm Marina Gregg.

- At least what's left of her.
- Ms. Gregg.

I understand you were here earlier.

I'm sorry for having to make you come back.

Oh, please, please... don't apologize.
I quite understand.

I hope you realize

the, er, chaos of film making.

It really is rather
a wretched business, you know.

Well, I don't get to the cinema very often.

Ah, of course.

- Tea?
- Yes, please.

- Please.
- Thank you.

- Milk?
- No milk, no sugar.

You know, it's funny.
I never drank tea in America.

Now, I'm slowly becoming an addict.

Yeah... well, there's a little shop
in the village, Hedgeworth I think,

offers an extraordinary selection.

- The most exotic brews.
- Oh, I'll have to check it out.

"Check it out." You're probably thinking,

"How hopelessly American she sounds."

You're here about that poor woman,
aren't you?

But, who would want to kill her?

- Do you have a clue?
- Can you tell me about her?

Me?
Well, how would I know anything about her?

People said that the two of you
spent some time talking together.

Ah, well, she spent time talking,
I spent time listening.

Can you be more specific, Ms. Gregg?

Do you know what fans are like, Inspector?

- I mean, real fans.
- N0.

Why don't you tell me?

Well, it seems...

Let me think... I want to get this straight.

It seems we had met once,

years ago during the war.

She remembered every detail of it,

even down to the song I was singing,

the dress I was wearing.

Funny thing is, I remember it too.

Anyway, I was entertaining the troops,
ancl she was sick or something,

but she was determined to see me.

And she got out of bed, got dressed,

got into the stage door...
Her uncle or someone was the doorkeeper.

And she waited in the wings
until after my curtain call,

ancl I signed her autograph or something.

She said it was

the most exciting night of her life.

Ancl you know,

it probably was.

I'm so sorry. Um, yes.

Now, um, I understand there was a moment

when you seemed startled about something, or

maybe even frightened.

- Frightened?
It was about the time when Mr. Fenn

- and his wife appeared.
- Uh, I don't...

You looked at a picture on the landing.

Oh, that.

Yes, of course... there...

There was a moment.
I was talking to that woman, that fan,

and she was going on and on, gushing,

and I was feeling run out of thank yous
and Ijust didn't know how to get out of it,

and I...

I... Ijust went blank.

Ms. Gregg, I hope you won't
find this upsetting, but

can you think of anyone
who might want to kill you?

- Why do you ask that?
- Well, I must explore every possibility.

- How do you get along with Ms. Zielinsky?
- Why are you asking these questions?

A local woman was murdered.
What... what does it have to do with me?

I came here to make a movie.

I came here with friends.
I came here with people that love me.

Why are you doing this to me? Why?

I'm trying to pull my life together.

And they're behind me... my husband, Ella.

They won't let it happen.
They'll stand up for me.

Why are you doing this? Why?

Oh, God!

It was me, wasn't it?

It was me they were trying to poison,
wasn't it?

Who am I kidding?

Somebody is trying to kill me, aren't they?

Somebody is trying to... poison me,
aren't they?

Somebody is trying to kill me, aren't they?

- Aren't they? I know it! I can...
- "I can feel it.

I can almost hear them coming."

- Danger in the Dark.
- Ah-ha!

MGM, 1932.

The scene when you thought your husband
and your sister were trying to kill you,

and you broke down in front of the police.

Why, you sneaky little chief inspector.

I bet you've seen every one of my movies.

Oh, at least twice.

- That one was a real dog.
- But you were most compelling

in that scene though.

The critics didn't seem to think so.

Well, if they'd been here today,
I'm absolutely certain

they would have succumbed.

You didn't.

Well, I'm a detective, Ms. Gregg...
It's my job to analyze behavior off screen.

Well, I'm an actress... I act.

Yes, I think the performance
was a little overdone, ifl may say.

I personally would have settled
for simple sincerity.

I didn't think you'd believe me.

I still don't think you believe me.

"You won't escape next time."

"Prepare to die."

One came here,
the other was sent to the studio.

- When?
- This morning.

- Who delivered them?
- We don't know.

- We?
- My husband and I.

At first I thought it was a joke.

Some kind ofjoke, huh?

You know, I don't think I've been so scared
since I was a kid in Oklahoma City.

Shirley Bookbinder.

Prettiest little girl in town.

I really thought I was something.

Till one clay I found...
I think I was around ten...

I found in my desk a note

sayinqi

"Nobody likes you, Shirley."

I cried for three clays.

I never did find out who wrote it.

See, the tough thing about having it...

...there's always somebody
who wants to take it away.

Ancl you know,

they usually do.

Help me, Inspector, please.

- Ancl I'm sure you will, Dermot.
- Well, I'll certainly try.

I suspect you're rather smitten
with Ms. Bookbinder.

Nonsense, Aunt Jane.

Trouble is, of course,
I now have enough suspects

with enough motives
to fill every shop in this high street.

Now, please make sure that you
and little Jeremy John,

and the godparents are on time,

because at 3:30 I had Mrs. Cracknell
and her little Jeremy John.

No, no, that's wrong.
Mrs. Cracknell's little Michael Jeremy John.

No, that's wrong too...
Mrs. Michael's John.

No, that's not right either.

So confusing.
But, I must get it right, mustn't I?

Well, see you Saturday, 3:30.

Ah, Ms. Marple!

Great news!

Mr. Edwards, down at the garage,

has been able to diagnose the problem.

We shall, therefore,
hopefully no longer have to call upon you

to resolve next Friday night's
little extravaganza, Two Girls from...

I've forgotten where...
But I do hope to see you anyway.

- Somewhere in America, I'm sure.
- Idaho.

You can safely give that one a miss, Aunt Jane.

If you say so, Dermot.

Jamie.

Oh, Jamie.

How I've longed for you.

To take you in my arms

and to clasp you to my bosom.

Jason, will you get that creep
out of my eye line?

- Cut.
- Who? Who, me?

Why, was I in your eye line?

Oh, but I just wanted Jason
to see my costume.

Dear, will you put the virgin queen
back into her cage?

Lola, why don't you go study your lines?

Anything you say.

Anybody got a script breakdown?

Oh, I am so sorry.

I shouldn't have used that word.

Tea's up!
Don't all rush... plenty to go round.

Don't walk in front of the camera,
for goodness's sake!

Load of animals.

Are you okaY?

Hm?

I'm fine, Jinks.

That's my girl.

Excuse me.

- Coffee, Marina.
- Oh, thank you.

- Jason, shall I get you a cup?
- Excuse me, sir, could you come and look at this?

- See if you can strike it?
- Yep.

Thanks.

Thank you.

Jason, when do I get to play
my scene with Sir Walter Raleigh?

- What?
- Jason! Jason!

- What is it?
- The...

The coffee!

There's nothing wrong with it, honey,
it's just a little strong.

- You're lying.
- Honey, now, come on.

- You're lying! It's poisoned!
- Marina.

I'll see you in the morning then, Ms. Marple.

I've laid everything out.

Oh, ancl don't forget,
I left your dinner in the oven.

Thank you, Cherry clear.

Remember me?

I saw you... murderer.

Good evening, Miss.
Mr. Rudd has been asking for you.

Where have you been?

I've been out for a walk.

What's the matter with you?
You look terrible.

The coffee Marina almost drank on the set.

I had it analyzed.

- Arsenic.
- Arsenic?

- How?
- I'm asking you.

- What's that supposed to mean?
- You made it, you poured it.

You gave it to her.

- Do you think I tried to poison her?
- Yes!

No... I don't know, I...

I don't know what to think.

You really do love her, don't you, Jason?

Oh.

Don't worry, I'm sure they'll find him.

- Him?
- Whoever did it.

Oh, for God's sake,
do something about that cold.

- Is the cloctor here?
- Yes, sir.

Mr. Rudd called the station at 8:55, sir.

Mhm.

- You'll have my report in the morning.
- All right.

All right, girls, you can go now.

Bates, if you'll stay,
Constable Arnold will take your statement now.

Inspector,

who would want to kill her?

The same person that tried to poison your wife.

Did you know that Ms. Zielinsky
was making a series of phone calls

from a box in the village?

Yeah... she was apparently playing detectives.

Phoning every suspect.

Telling them that she'd seen them
poison Ms. Gregg.

Waiting for a reaction.

If whoever she was talking to had took the bait,

she'd find the murderer.

She obviously did.

- You've seen the coffee analysis?
- Yes.

Mr. Rudd,

why didn't you tell me about these notes?

Well, I obviously forgot about them.

Somebody threatened
to kill your wife and you forgot?

I thought I could handle it.

Not very effectively, it seems.

- What are you doing?
- I'm getting out of here.

- Marina.
- I'm sorry, Jason,

- but I'm not staying here another night.
- Well, what about the picture?

To hell with the picture!
Somebody out there is trying to kill me.

- Think I'm gonna sit and wait for them?
- No one is going to hurt you.

Oh, Jinks, I'm so scared!

I know, I know... but I'm here with you.

The police are on guard.

Why? Why would somebody
want to hurt me?

Shh.

Why didn't you tell me about those notes?

What's the point?
Scare the hell out of you too?

Please, let's get out of here.

Okay, we'll check into a hotel in the morning.

- Do you promise?
- I promise.

- And we'll be together always.
- Till death do us part.

Why'd you say that?

Seems we can eliminate Ms. Zielinsky
as a suspect.

Murder is a very dangerous business.

If one gets mixed up in it,
one must be prepared for the consequences.

Yeah, she wasn't a pretty sight.

Well, Prussic acid is a most unpleasant death.

So, where do we go from here, Aunt Jane?

Our most likely suspect's become
our latest victim.

Do you realize there were
at least 4O people at that party

ancl no one saw the poison
being put into the glass?

Oh, come now, Dermot...
At least three people could have quite easily.

One, the unobservant soul
preoccupied with other thoughts,

- completely unaware of what he saw.
- Hm, second?

The person who may have seen it,
and thought nothing of it

because it seemed quite natural.
You see, in my clay,

it was considered very bad manners...
But people today are always

putting things in their drinks...
Pills, medicine... all sorts of things.

Yes, I suppose... and third?

We have the person who actually did it.

- The same person who murdered Ella Zielinsky.
- Exactly.

You know, Dermot,
I always think that murder is like a jigsaw.

Until you've fitted in the final piece,
you can't see the whole picture.

Obviously, we still have a piece missing.

Now, what was that awful women's name?

Brown boots, sort of Cheltenham type.

- Colethorpe.
- Cynthia Colethorpe, right.

Ancl I distinctly remember
that it wasn't till halfway through the case,

when you reminded me
about her smelly little Pekingese.

What was its name? It smelt revoltingly.

- Aunt Jane?
- Frozen.

That frozen look.

What was it that Heather Babcock
said to Marina Gregg

just before she gave the frozen look?

Oh, you mean all that interminable nonsense
about how she was ill?

Marina gave her an autograph
ancl it was the most exciting moment of her life.

Yes, it was before she spilled the drink.

- Here it is.
- It's not good enough.

We've got to know Heather's exact words.

I'm not sure that I follow you.

- Alice Wetherby's cousin.
- Alice Wetherby's cousin?

She went into a back room one clay
and found her husband had hung himself

from a hook
at the top of the ceiling eight-feet high.

There was absolutely nothing else
in the room except the hook,

the body ancl a small puddle of water
beneath his feet.

Nobody could understand how
he'd maneuvered himself up there

to perform the deed, until it was discovered

he had purchased a two-foot block of ice
from the local fishmonger,

So, Mr. Croswell.

To this clay, Alice Wetherby's
cousin shudders at the mere suggestion

of an ice cube in her gin.

- Yes, Aunt Jane.
- Don't you see, Dermot,

that something as trivial
as the suggestion of an ice cube,

when it becomes associated
with another experience,

something that caused great grief,

it fixes in the mind, stays with you forever.

Yes, but I'm not sure what you're getting at.

If only we knew what Heather actually said.

- Cherry!
- Oh, I'm afraid that's impossible.

At least for now. I've sent her away.

Whatever for?

Dear boy,
I don't want her to be murdered too.

Marina, honey.

Brought you something warm to drink.

Hot chocolate.

Do you remember when we used to drink it
on those cold nights

in Sun Valley?

When there was nothing else to do.

I mean, afterwards.

Sleep tight.

I'll take these.

You won't be needing them any more.

Jason?

Hm?

I love you.

I love you too, baby.

Of course, the vicar!

Thank you, Inch.
If you'll wait, please.

I am sorry, Ms. Marple,
Ms. Gregg is not available.

But, it is imperative that I see her at once.

My apologies, madam. I have my orders.

Then, I shall wait.

There is a lady here, sir.

- What kind of a lady?
- A somewhat elderly lady, sir.

A Ms. Marple. She refuses to leave.

- Shall I...?
- No... I'll get rid of her.

Mr. Rudd. Good morning, Mr. Rudd.

Look, Miss, er, Marble, or whatever your name is,

I don't know what you're doing here,
but you cannot stay.

It's Marple, and I won't keep you long.

I'm correct, am I not, that that is
where your wife stood the clay of the murder?

She looked in that direction,

and then her face froze.

- I think you'd better leave.
- Bellini's Mother and Child.

A very fine painting. A present
of the Brera Institute in Milano, I believe.

The whole thing is really quite simple,
isn't it?

- I don't know what you're talking about.
- Oh, I think you do.

- Ah, Dermot.
- Good Lord, Aunt Jane.

I might have guessed you'd be here.

This is the spot where it happened,

which makes it so much easier to understand.

It's very simple,
if only one looks at it the proper way.

It all began, you see, with the kind of person
that Heather Babcock was.

Damn it, that's enough!

The two of you come busting
into my house... I want you out! Now!

Perhaps you should call the police, Mr. Rudd.

Let us go back, shall we, to the moment

when Heather greets Ms. Gregg
and launches into her effusive little tale?

Poor Ms. Gregg listened patiently
as Heather rattled on,

or at least she appeared to.

And then suddenly,
Marina turned her head away.

A strange look came over her face...
A look of doom.

It had nothing to do
with Lola Brewster's arrival.

Marina wasn't even looking at her,
or poor Heather.

She was looking at the Madonna.

A picture of a serene mother
holding a beautiful, happy baby.

But, I still don't see the connection.

Of course not... you don't know
what Heather actually said.

Yes, but haven't we
been through all that last night?

She got out of bed, powdered her nose,
slipped out of the barracks,

determined to see her idol,

and then proceeded to the theater
where some relative let her in

and allowed her to watch from the wing.

And I still don't see where that gets us.

Neither did I...
Ancl then I thought of the vicar.

I telephoned him in the middle of the night...
I'm afraid I wasn't at all popular.

He remembered Heather's convalescence.

She had been ill ancl spent her sick leave
in the village with her mother.

You see, when Heather Babcock
went to the theatre that evening,

she was infectious.

She was suffering from rubella.

More commonly known as German measles.

Your wife had a child
that was born mentally retarded.

She never recovered from the shock.

Marina

contracted German measles
during the pregnancy.

Ancl she never knew how.

Ancl then one afternoon, a perfect stranger

tells her with pleasure, with pride even,

what she has clone.

And you let me kiss you.

Oh, yes, you did.

What a nice little story, clear.

- Now, can I get you a drink?
- Oh, thank you, yes.

A rather perfect murder.
Not exactly as Cherry described it.

I was wrong about one thing:
I deduced that one of the guests at the party

took the risk of putting the poison
in the glass.

But it was unnecessary.
N0 one would have noticed the hostess

taking a momentary leave of absence
to visit her bathroom

to prepare the fatal potion.
As an actress used to handling props,

she would have had no trouble
jogging Heather's elbow,

accidentally spilling her drink
and offering her her own.

Marina had to insist
that she was the intended victim,

that the murder was aimed at her
to support her plot.

She wrote the notes herself.

Even doctored her coffee at the studio.

It deceived nearly everybody... nearly.

But, one person saw through it.

You knew, didn't you, Mr. Rudd?

It was the notes that made you finally realize.

The notes your wife forgot to tell you about.

If they had been real,
she would have informed you at once.

And so, you decided to protect her.

Mr. Rudd, I'd like to speak to your wife.

Excuse me, Dermot,
would you mind ifl saw her first?

Thank you, clear. Mr. Rudd.

- Ms. Marple.
- Yes, Mr. Rudd?

- She's dead.
- I rather suspected as much.

- Couldn't you?
- I killed her.

I put poison in her hot chocolate last night.

It was inevitable
she would have been discovered... I...

I couldn't let her face the humiliation.

She's suffered enough.

You must have loved her very much.

Mr. Rudd, I think you better come in here.

Marina?

Mr. Rudd.

She's given the performance of her life.