All language subtitles for MSW S06E03 The Grand Old Lady 360 x 480

Kapit�n!

Good heavens!

(WOMEN SCREAMING)

FEMALE NARRATOR:
Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

There's been a murder
aboard the Queen Mary,
sir.

What?
Murder?

Dad, maybe I can help out.

I mean,
how about last month?

I remember having to explain
that I was the detective
with the gold shield, not you.

There will be
a personal search
of all passengers.

This is ridiculous!

Lady Abigail, you don't know
what a great honor this is.

Well, aren't you
the dear boy!

Sprechen sie Deutsch,
Mr. Crane?

What happened
to the briefcase
he was carrying?

Is Bishop all right?

We don't know.
He never came up.

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Oh, the weather's
so beautiful.

It should be a wonderful day.

But it isn't.

It was in the paper
this morning.

A wonderful person died
a couple of days ago.

She was very dear to me,
even though I never
actually met her.

The paper said
that she was 101,

though she could have been
a lot older.

Lady Austin was like that,
an enigma shrouded in mystery,

very much like the books
that she wrote.

Abigail Austin.

When it came to mysteries,
she was very simply the best.

Her books will live on
long after mine are gone
and forgotten.

You know, the obituary
reminded me of something
that I'd forgotten.

Years ago, she was involved
in a real-life mystery.

Oh, yes.

As you know, that's something
that I'm familiar with.

But for Lady Abigail,
I think it was,

well, a somewhat
disconcerting situation.

It was two years
after the war,

and she had sailed
aboard the Queen Mary,

which was one night
out of New York City
when the trouble started.

(DOOR OPENS)

BELLOWS: Mr. Daniken.
Good evening, sir.

Good Lord, man,
what happened?

It is nothing.
I fell down one of those
ladders, that is all.

The captain, where is he?

It's well past
first sitting, sir.

He could be anywhere.

Look here, Mr. Daniken,

that's a nasty cut
on your forehead.

Why don't we pop up
to ship's hospital
and have a look, eh?

I want this message
sent immediately,
do you understand?

Yes, sir, but...

(DOOR SLAMS)
Sir!

My dear Lady Austin,

please accept a humble toast
from a devoted disciple.

You're far too kind,
Mr. Chancellor.

Nonsense.
Your preeminence
is without equal.

Your marvelous detective,
Dexter Saint James,
the hero of 50 novels.

Fifty-five.

Translated into
a dozen languages.

Seventeen, including Swahili.

Well, I, for one, cannot wait

until the next Abigail Austin
adventure is published.

Thank you, but I'm afraid
you're going to have to wait.

Well, the war and all.

It hardly seemed patriotic,
writing such frivolities.

Ah, but the war is over.

And I hope you will
consider my offer

to write for my program,
The Chancellor Casebooks.

Thank you, but I know
nothing about radio.

OLIVER: Good evening.

Captain Oliver.

Lady Austin,
Mr. Chancellor.

I hope you've both
been treated well
by my staff and crew.

Oh...
Indeed we have.

When one is aboard
this grand old lady,

one feels one has
never left British soil.

CHANCELLOR: Won't you join us
for a brandy?

Thank you, no.

(LOUD THUD)

(ALL EXCLAIMING)

Kapit�n!

Kapit�n!

(WOMEN SCREAMING)

Good heavens!

Who is that man?

Not "who is he,"
Mr. Chancellor,
who was he?

He's been stabbed to death.

KRUMHOLTZ:
Yeah, come in, come in.

Hi, Mr. Krumholtz.

Oh, it's you.

I know you're busy.
This won't take more than
five minutes of your time.

Wrong, kid, by four minutes,
45 seconds.

Magazine section's
down the hall,
left-hand side.

Sir, I know what you think,
I'm just a screwy guy
who writes crossword puzzles.

Another time, McGinn.
I'm trying to get
the late edition out.

Sir, if you could just
give me a chance.

Kid, please,
I know all about your IQ,

and you got a good head
on your shoulders.

But don't you understand?
You can't write!

You put the words together
like you were
stringing beads.

Now, look, we tried.
We tried last month,
we tried six months ago...

Six months ago,
didn't I help solve

the case of the missing
Studebaker salesman?

And last month,
didn't I help figure out

who killed Mayor O'Dwyer's
bodyguard?

Sure, sure, kid.
For a reporter,
you make a great detective.

Look, if you wanna be
a cop like your old man,
go join the force.

I'm 4F, sir.
I told you that.

If the Army didn't want me,
the police sure don't.

Kid, want to do me a favor?

Come on, go bother
The World or The Journal.

COPY BOY:
Mr. Krumholtz, sir,

you're wanted
in Mr. Barnes' office
right away, sir.

You tell Mr. Barnes...

There's been a murder
aboard the Queen Mary,
sir.

What?
Murder?

They're holding her
in quarantine

until they can get it
all straightened out.

That comes straight from
Detective Lieutenant McGinn.

My dad?
And no press is being
allowed onboard.

What should I tell
Mr. Barnes, sir?

Kid, you tell Mr. Barnes

(CHUCKLING) that we have got
the situation well in hand.

(HORN BLOWING)

I'm sorry, Mr. Bishop,
no one is allowed off.
Captain's orders.

Look, Ensign, or whatever
you call yourself...

Westin, sir. Second officer.

Westin, I have got to get
to my office.

The material
in this briefcase
is extremely valuable.

I'm sorry, sir.

Rum business for all of us,
you know.

Well, it was
approximately 8:15
when Mr. Daniken appeared.

He looked a sight,
Lieutenant.

Hair messed,
clothes askew.

I assumed that he...

Lieutenant, excuse me.

There's a chap
trying to get onboard.
Says he's your son.

Christy?

Oh, that's all I need.

Tell him...

Never mind. Send him in.

I'll tell him myself.

All right,
so Daniken was chased
to the purser's office,

left to find the captain,

got himself stabbed
on the third deck

between 8:45 and 8:55.

Question: Was someone
following him?

Question: Did he know
who that someone was?

Chancellor,
I know the questions.

What I'm looking for
are the answers.

CHRISTY: Dad!

Ah, McGinn fils.
My day is complete.

I hope you don't mind
my coming aboard
like this.

Mind? Of course I mind.
Aren't you supposed to be home

making up this Sunday's
crossword puzzle or something?

Did it last night.
Dad, I gotta speak to you
for a moment.

This had better be good.

I got a job, Dad.
A real job.

Well, that's what
Mr. Krumholtz said.

Krumholtz?
That guy fires you
out of force of habit.

But I gotta
come up with a story
on this killing.

Son, wouldn't you like
to be an attorney?

I'd gladly pay your way
through law school.

Dad, maybe I can help out.

I mean, how about last month?
Remember what the Mayor said?

Oh, yeah, I remember, Son.

I remember having to explain
that I was the detective
with the gold shield, not you.

Oh, come on, Dad.

I got as much right
to be here

as that pompous
radio jerk Chancellor.

Wrong as usual, McGinn.

I was there
when the victim died.

I am a material witness.

Now, if you wish,
Lieutenant,

I'd be delighted
to escort your son
to the gangway.

He stays.

Well, I distinctly
heard you say...

Is this distinct enough
for you, Chancellor?

My son stays.

Okay, where was I?

Oh, yeah, the killing.
Victim was a man
named Peter Daniken.

Wine merchant from Denmark.
He was stabbed to death.

And you saw the stabbing,
Mr. Chancellor?

Not the stabbing, no.

Merely the poor man's
expiration.

I was seated in the pub,

enjoying a '29
Ch�teau d'Yquem
with Lady Abigail Austin.

What?

I said I was...

The Lady Abigail Austin,
here?

Sir, could you tell me
what stateroom she's in?

Fourteen, young man.
But I believe
she's up on A Deck.

Thanks.

Christy!

Do you realize
what this means, Paul?

We will miss the connection
to Baltimore.

I'm sure there are
many trains, Papa.

Enjoy the sun now.
You are looking
much too pale.

I missed you at breakfast.

I wasn't hungry.

Is she here to meet you?

I don't know.

I didn't look for her
on the dock.

Look, EI, I'm sorry.

No, don't be sorry, Dan.
This was my idea.

We'd said our goodbyes.

I should have left it there.

I couldn't.

I think I'll go below deck.

Goodbye, darling.

Excuse me.
Lady Abigail Austin?

Yes?

Lady Abigail, you don't know
what a great honor this is.

I mean, meeting you in person.
I've read all of your books,

some of them
three or four times.

Well, aren't you
the dear boy!

Would you like my autograph?

Sure.

What is your name,
young man?

Christy. Christy McGinn.

McGinn?
Christopher McGinn?

Actually,
I don't go by that.

The same Christopher McGinn

who devises those
fiendishly clever puzzles
in the Men's Quarterly?

Well, yes.

And who only
a few months ago

helped the New York police

apprehend
a missing car salesman

with only a broken cuff link
for a clue?

Well, yes.

Oh, young man,
the honor is all mine.

Oh, it will be such fun
working together, won't it?

Working together?

Well, on this murder,
of course.

We must solve it, you know,
the two of us.

Well, actually, I was
just sort of planning
to write about it.

Oh, nonsense!

If there's any writing
to be done, I'll do it.

As you know,
I was there when he died.

I was sitting in the pub
with that Mr. Chancellor.

He's been trying to get me
to write a few stories

for some radio program
he's involved with.

Anyway, in pops Daniken.
He sees the captain.

He staggers forward,

he gasps, "Kapit�n! Kapit�n!"
And then...

(IMITATES THROAT SLITTING)

Kapit�n? That's German.

I thought Daniken
was supposed to be Danish.

Dear boy,
two years after Hitler,
they're all Danish,

all those dreadful Nazis.

Even if he was German,
that doesn't make him
a Nazi.

I know, but there was
something else.

Daniken went to
the purser's office
last night,

just before he was stabbed.

He gave him a message
to send ashore.

The purser was kind enough
to tell me about it,

and I copied it down.
I have it here somewhere.

A-ha.

This is very significant,
I think.

"To Ilona Daniken,
Waldorf-Astoria Hotel,
New York.

"Darling, arrive tomorrow
at 10:00.

"Feeling under the weather.

"Sikorsky sends regards.

"Remember, we met him
in Vienna, September 1936.

"Love, Peter."

I don't get it.

Sikorsky.
International chess player.

Andrei Sikorsky?
I thought he was dead.

Never proved.

When Hitler marched
into Poland in '39,

he was in the fight
for Warsaw.

And when that battle ended,
his body was never found.

Sikorsky's a common name
in Europe.

Perhaps. But even though
our Mr. Daniken
kept to himself,

he was observed
playing chess on deck.

Now, you add to that
the reference to Vienna,
to 1936,

well, there's just
no question.

Here, you just see
for yourself.

"International
Chess Tournament,

"Vienna, Austria,
September 1936.

"Sikorsky defeated
Von Richter

"with a move
that has come to be known
as the Sikorsky Ploy."

Don't you see?
Daniken was Sikorsky.

Or perhaps he was
Von Richter.

Or perhaps he was
someone else

being pursued by Sikorsky
or Von Richter.

Excuse me, Lady Austin.

Ah, Bellows.

Mr. McGinn, sir,
your father would
like to see you

in the forward lounge
at once, sir.

It's quite urgent.

Lady Austin.

That is what I said,
Captain.

No one leaves this ship
until they've been
thoroughly searched.

I'm afraid I must protest.

I'm sorry, sir,
I have my orders.
Dad?

Ah, there you are, Son.
I think we've found
our motive.

Special Agent Lennihan,
Treasury Department,
my son, Christy.

Very nice to meet you.

Inspector,
this is a sensitive matter.

Yeah, well, so is murder,
Mr. Lennihan.

It seems that Mr. Daniken
wasn't Danish after all,
but German.

By the name
of Von Richter,
I believe.

He was named Kreitzman.
He was an ex-Gestapo officer
from the Saar Valley district.

Oh?
Yeah. It seems Herr Kreitzman
came aboard

carrying something
very valuable.

Carrying what?

I'm not at liberty to say.

But I can tell you this much.
It's worth millions.

Maybe even tens of millions.

And nobody gets off this ship
until I find it.

Mr. Lennihan,

if Daniken, or Kreitzman,
or whoever he was,

was carrying
something valuable,

then we have a motive,
and I want to know
what it is.

I quite agree.

McGINN: I'll vouch for my son.

As for me, Mr. Lennihan,
I am an honorary constable
with Scotland Yard,

and I have the badge
to prove it.

All right.

But what I'm about to tell you
goes no farther
than this room.

Let's hear it.

As I said, Kreitzman was
a higher-up in the Gestapo.

In January of 1945,
he was transferred from
the Saar Valley to Berlin,

where he was put in charge
of a plan known as
Operation Geltkrieg.

Geltkrieg. "Money war"?

Precisely.

An expert engraver
had made plates
of our five-dollar bill.

Perfect job,
according to intelligence.

The plan was
to print up millions
of counterfeit fives.

Debasing the currency,
throwing the country
into economic chaos.

Except the war ended.
The plates disappeared
and were presumed lost.

Then, two months ago,

we learned that
they were going to be
smuggled into the States

by a ring of ex-Gestapo
officers.

Including Daniken.

And Daniken's wife.

Now, one of the plates
was already in the country,

and we were sure
that Daniken was
bringing in the other.

And Scotland Yard
followed him
to London Airport,

where he had a reservation.

But he must have known
that he was being followed,
because he slipped the tail.

Daniken boarded
around 6:00,

an hour or so
before sailing.

And your men
didn't follow him aboard?

No, we had no idea
where he was
until a day later.

Sounds to me like somebody
followed him onboard.

Captain, do you remember
boarding any other
last-minute passengers?

Yes, I believe we did.
I can check the manifest.

You see what we're up against.

You have a murder
to solve, Inspector,
but I have a plate to find.

Now, as long as
Daniken had it,

it was simply a matter
of following him

until he led us
to the others.

But now that plate
could be in the possession of
any one of 1,100 passengers.

LENNIHAN: And if it gets off
this ship,

it could have
economic repercussions
at the highest level.

What are you doing
in my cabin?

You were looking for what?

Evidence, Lieutenant.
Evidence.

Evidence of what?

Peter Daniken came aboard
this ship alone.

He talked to no one
except Mr. Nicholas Crane.

I observed the two of them
playing chess together
the first day out of port.

Yes.

Yes, and when the sun
became too much for him,
we played in his stateroom.

But chess is hardly
a criminal activity.

It is if your name
happens to be Sikorsky
or Von Richter.

Sprechen sie Deutsch,
Mr. Crane?

Or perhaps you are Polish.

Neither.

Captain,
I hardly knew the man.

When was the last time
you saw him?

Around 8:00. He said
he was going for a walk.

Been cooped up
in his cabin all day.

I guess he needed
the exercise.

Captain, may I go,
please?

Lieutenant?

Yeah. Yeah, you can go.
If we need you,
we'll let you know.

You're making
a terrible mistake,
Lieutenant.

Daniken sent
a message ashore,

a clue to the identity
of his assailant.

Perhaps the two men argued
over their chess match.

Mr. Chancellor, Daniken is
a former Gestapo agent

named Otto Kreitzman,
and the motive...

None of your business,
Chancellor.

Now get out of here.
Stop meddling.

Of course.

Otto Kreitzman, you said?

How interesting.

Terribly sorry,
Inspector.

I shouldn't have
opened up that way,
but that man's insufferable.

Tell me about it.

Sir, I have the manifest.

These are the passengers
who boarded this ship

after Mr. Daniken
booked passage.

There appear to be
four of them. Hello!

What is it?

One of the four
is the gentleman
who just left,

Mr. Nicholas Crane.

OLIVER: Arthur Bishop,
stateroom nine.

McGINN: According to
your passport,
you've just come

from a three-week stay
in Paris, Mr. Bishop.

That's right.
I'm a fashion designer
for Majesty Fashions,

where I should be now.

OLIVER: Sorry,
no one's permitted ashore.

Captain, let me tell you
a little something
about the fashion business.

A day, even a few hours,
can make the difference

between success
and bankruptcy.

Now, I happen to have
in my portfolio

some sketches for something
called the New Look.

New Look? Whatever happened
to the old one?

BISHOP: I have got
to get ashore now.

You boarded the ship
a half-hour before
she was to set sail.

So what?

Well, it's kind of funny,
isn't it,

that if you were
in such a hurry
to get to New York,

why didn't you fly?

That's none of
your business.

Perhaps you weren't
in quite such a hurry.

And what is that
supposed to mean?

That you know
about the murder
of Peter Daniken.

What has that
got to do with me?

My son asked you a question.
How come you didn't fly?

Despite evidence
to the contrary,

I am not completely
convinced

that the Wright brothers
got it right.

Call me a skeptical coward.

We're listening.

From Paris, I took
the Channel boat to Dover.

I got to Southampton
at 7:30,

just in time
to make the connection.

Now may I go?

Yes, Mr. Bishop, you may go.

But until
you're told otherwise,

you're still confined
to the ship.

If this costs me
my season, Captain,

you will hear
from my attorneys.

I do adore
American businessmen.

They are so genteel.

And then there were two.

Lieutenant Eleanor Cantrell,
Army nurse,

Paul Viscard, who is
accompanying his father
to Baltimore.

Captain Oliver.

Yes, Mr. Westin?

It's Mr. Viscard
and his son, sir.

We've located them below,
having a bit of a row
with Mr. Lennihan.

Well, if Mr. Viscard thinks
he's leaving this ship,

he's got another guess
coming.

Son.
Right, Dad.

Lady Austin?

No, Christopher.
You go along.

I think I'll see
what I can find out
from this Army nurse.

The woman's approach,
you know.

CHANCELLOR: "Nicholas Crane,
Eleanor Cantrell,
Paul Viscard, Arthur Bishop."

Now, are you sure
these are the chief suspects?

Yes, sir.

It's because
they boarded ship
after Mr. Daniken.

Don't ask me why, sir.

All right.
If you hear anything else,

you will be sure
to let me know.

Right, sir.

Your behavior is
inexcusable, monsieur.

We are being treated
like common criminals.

I'm sorry, sir,
but it's necessary.

You don't seem to have
any luggage, Mr. Viscard.

No. I hadn't planned
on making the voyage.

My father
is traveling
to Baltimore.

To visit my daughter,
who is married
to one of your Gls.

My father seemed to be
in some discomfort
when we boarded.

Nonsense.

So, at the last moment,
I decided to accompany him.

Naturally, I had
no clothes with me,

so I bought some things
onboard.

CHRISTY: Excuse me,
Mr. Viscard.
Yes?

I understand you were
assigned to B-255
on the fourth deck.

That is correct.

Normally, I would
travel first-class,

but, as you know,
the ship was at capacity.

There was nothing left.

A minor inconvenience.

I'm afraid we're going to need
a statement from you, sir.

Statement?
About what?

Your whereabouts last evening.

Say, between 8:30 and 9:00.

I was in my cabin,
having supper
with my son.

That's right.

McGINN: I'd like
a full statement
for our stenographer.

And if I agree,
then will we be
permitted to leave?

No, that may be
some time yet.

There will be a personal
search of all passengers,
deck by deck,

in alphabetical order,
Mr. Viscard.

Oh, this is ridiculous!
Sorry.

HENRl: Look, I want to
warn you, sir.

I am not without influence.

Paul, take me
to my cabine.

McGINN: Find anything?

Nothing.

Good morning.

Morning.

Have you any idea
how long it takes
to walk around this deck?

(CHUCKLING) My word,
I must be getting old.

And these shoes,
why, they're impossible.
I don't believe we've met.

Abigail Austin.
How do you do?

Eleanor Cantrell.

Eleanor, such a lovely name.
You're American.

Does it show that much?

It does,
and it's delightful.

(EXCLAIMS) But I am appalled
with this dreadful delay.
Aren't you?

I'm in no hurry.

Really?

Why, I should imagine
a young girl would find
a thousand delights

in such a wonderful city.

As a matter of fact,
I probably won't even
go ashore.

I'm booked
for the return trip.

Oh, how strange.

Well, I'm on
a week's furlough.

Furlough? Oh, you're
with the military.

I'm a registered nurse,
transplanted to the Army.

I'm stationed at Lancaster.

Lovely city.
My first husband died there.

Well, surely you're not
traveling alone?

Well, yes.

Strange, I haven't
seen you at dinner.

Well, I've been taking
most of my meals in my cabin.

Why are you asking me
all these questions?

Am I?

Oh, I didn't realize that.
I am so sorry. I...

Would you excuse me
a minute?

Oh, don't rush off.

A singularly uninformative
interrogation, Lady Austin.

I couldn't help
but overhear.

Interesting
that the young lady
is traveling alone,

yet that's the third time
I've seen her
with the Army major.

A steward brought this to me
in my cabin.

It's $600. Is this
some sort of reward?

You know better than that.
You can't afford this trip.

Don't make me feel
cheaper than I am, Dan.

Hey, stop!

(CROWD CLAMORING)

(WOMAN SCREAMING)

Man overboard!
Man overboard!

Don't! Dan? Dan!

Dan!

How is he, Doc?

Pressure's a little high,
pulse rate up.

You seem to be
out of condition, Major.

After spending 18 months
recuperating in a hospital,

you would be, too, Doctor.

Seems to me that makes
your leap into the water
a little dumb.

Why did you go after
Mr. Bishop, Major?

You're looking for
that man's killer.

I saw Bishop
being questioned
in the dining room earlier,

and I thought he was
making a run for it.

That's the only reason?

I'm a provost marshal,
Lieutenant.

The uniform's
a little different,
but I'm still a cop.

What happened
to the briefcase
he was carrying?

Never saw it.

Well, what happened?

Is Bishop all right?

We don't know.

He never came up.

Which means
he either swam away
without being seen...

Or they're still down there,
both Mr. Bishop
and his briefcase.

I hope the Major's all right.
That was a very brave act.

Brave? I wonder.

What's that
supposed to mean?

My dear Lady Abigail,
you saw as well as I did
the transfer of the envelope

from Miss Cantrell
to Major McGuire.

I just wonder what...

Excuse me,
I was just wondering

about the condition
of Major McGuire.

Oh, are you Mrs. McGuire?

No. I'm a nurse.

I thought
I might be able to help out.

Well, it's very kind of you,
but I believe
the Major's doing fine.

Oh. Oh, that's
good to hear.

Thank you.
Thank you very much.

Would you like to see him,
Miss Cantrell?

Oh, no,
that won't be necessary.

I'm sure he would like
to see you.

But I don't even
know the man.

Strange that you were
speaking with him

only moments before
he leaped over the side,

when you handed him
that envelope.

Excuse me, Lady Abigail.
There's something I have to
check on immediately.

Well, we're not gonna
know a thing

until we come up
with Mr. Bishop
and his briefcase.

Do you think Bishop
may have been carrying
the missing currency plate?

Thought crossed my mind.

Gentlemen, how is the Major?

A little tired.
He'll be up shortly.

Where's Chancellor?

He's off somewhere.
Struck by a muse,
I believe.

I ought to check
with Lennihan.
You wanna come along?

No, Dad. I'm going
to have another talk
with Henri Viscard.

Right. See you later.

Christopher,
did the Major mention anything
about being in hospital?

Matter of fact, he did. Why?

Just as I thought.
And Eleanor Cantrell
is an Army nurse.

Yes?

Well, don't you see
the connection, dear boy?

L'affaire d'amour.

Oh, sure. I got that, yeah.

So what do you think?
Do we keep an eye on them?

Spy on a couple of lovebirds?
Of course not.

But if there's
a connection...

But me no buts.

Christopher, our quarry
is to be found elsewhere.

(CLICKS TONGUE)

Papa, don't worry.
Everything will be fine.

Excuse me,
Mr. Viscard.

Ah, Monsieur McGinn.

Any word from your father
when we may go ashore?

No, I'm sorry.

Sir, I hate to intrude
like this,

but there's something
I have to ask you about.

Don't you think my father
has been subjected
to enough questioning?

We had enough of these tactics
from the Nazis.

Paul. Paul, please.

What is your question,
Mr. McGinn?

Sir, according
to the manifest,

you booked passage
two days before
the ship was to sail.

That's right, for myself.

As you know,

my son decided
to accompany me
at the last moment.

Yes, but you also said
that you didn't go
first-class

because there were
no staterooms.

Well, the trouble is, sir,
both Nicholas Crane
and the victim

boarded the ship
less than an hour
before sailing,

and they had no problem
booking staterooms.

You don't have to
tell him anything, Papa.

Kreitzman's death
was nothing to do with us.

Paul, please.

The young man has caught me
in a lie.

A small one,
but a lie nonetheless.

Papa, please.

I pretend to be
a wealthy banker.
A lie.

I say I'm going to
visit my daughter,
yet another lie.

The war was very cruel to me,
young man.

I lost a son,
murdered by the Nazis.

My other son learned to kill
before he learned to love.

No, I am not going
to visit my daughter.

I am going there to live,
because there is
nothing else for me.

I'm sorry.

Does that satisfy you?

Yes, sir.

Well, I mean,
no, sir.

Sir, earlier today,

when you realized
your person was going
to be searched,

you scooted back
into your cabin,

almost as if
you were trying
to hide something.

You're crazy.

No, no, no, no.
Very astute.

Little escapes you,
Mr. McGinn.

Papa, there's no need
for that now.

Paul, there is no danger now.

My legs are useless,
but not without pain.

And before I boarded
the ship,

I brought along
a supply of morphine,

which, of course,
is contraband,

and I kept it hidden here.

And it was there earlier?

Yes. The small amount
that was left.

I had a severe attack
last night, after supper,

and sleep can be
a blessed friend
to a body wracked with pain.

Christopher. Psst!

Excuse me.

You must come with me
right now.
I was just...

Dear boy,
don't just stand there.

I have discovered
who killed Daniken.

Christopher, you remember
the message

that Daniken sent ashore
to his wife.

It was all about
Sikorsky, Vienna, 1936.

Sure.

That led to my assumption
that, possibly,

Daniken was Sikorsky,

which, of course, he was not.
He was that miserable,
dreadful Gestapo.

Oh.

(WHISPERING) Then again,
there's always the possibility

that Daniken's killer
was Sikorsky or Von Richter.

But I don't think
that's the meaning
of the message, either.

It just so happens
that Mr. Crane
recalls that match.

Oh, vividly.

Sikorsky apparently
made an error

which permitted Von Richter

to pounce upon
his king's bishop.

Actually, it was
a brilliant move by Sikorsky,

who sacrificed
his king's bishop

to draw Von Richter
into his trap,

and it was mate in seven.

What?

Mate in seven.

That's chess parlance,
Mr. McGinn.

Von Richter was checkmated
in seven moves.

Here, I can show you
on the board.

Now, you see? You see
what it means, don't you?

I think I do.

(WOMAN SCREAMING)

Good heavens!

Excuse me, Mr. McGinn,
you're wanted aft.

What is it?

I believe they have found
Mr. Bishop, sir.

Excuse me.

Not a mark on him.

Looks like
he drowned.

I'll wait
for the autopsy.

And no sign
of that briefcase?
None, sir.

But my divers
are still looking.

Well, so much for
Mr. Arthur Bishop.

Dad, I think Lady Abigail
cracked the case.

She has? Well, who did it?

Do you think
you could gather everybody
in the forward lounge?

Oh, now, look, Son,
not that old chestnut.

Who do I look like,
Charlie Chan?

Please, Dad,
let her have the spotlight.
It's important.

Okay. I guess I owe you one
from last month.

Where's Chancellor?
Who cares?

Captain, Edwin Chancellor,
he's in stateroom seven,
isn't he?

Quite so.

I'll get him.
You go ahead.

Son, tell me it's true.
Chancellor did it?

No such luck, Dad.

Gonna have to settle
for somebody else.

(KNOCKING AT DOOR)

It's not locked.

Yes?

When was that?
Thank you so much.

Mr. Chancellor,
do you always leave
your door unlocked?

Why not? I'm not carrying
anything worth stealing.

Lady Austin and I think

we've come up
with the identity
of Mr. Daniken's killer.

(EXCLAIMS)

As have I, McGinn.

My office has been in touch
with Great Britain,

and I now know
everything I need to know
about our killer.

Really? So you found it?

Well, the solution was
not difficult to find,
I assure you.

Come along. I want
to present my evidence
to the Captain.

Yes, but shouldn't we...

Don't dilly-dally, McGinn.

The sooner we get
this business over with,

the sooner
we'll be off this ship.

(CHANCELLOR CLAPS)

(CLEARING THROAT)

Miss Abigail, if you have got
something to tell us...

Patience, Mr. Lennihan.

Ah, there you are,
Christopher.

Didn't want to start
without you.

Or me, Lady Austin.

Lieutenant McGinn,
happily, for all of us,

we'll soon be able
to leave this ship.

I believe that I have
discovered the identity
of Daniken's murderer.

You, too?

Well, how stunning.

I mean, that all of us
have been able to decipher

the meaning
of Mr. Daniken's message.

But, Lady Austin,
the message had
nothing to do with it.

Really?

Oh, I think you're mistaken,
Mr. Chancellor.

Am I? Consider the facts.

The time, a 10-minute span
between 8:45 and 8:55
last evening.

Peter Daniken,
or, if you prefer,

an ex-Gestapo officer
named Otto Kreitzman

rushes from
the purser's office
in fear for his life.

Somewhere on the third deck,
he is stabbed.

He staggers into the pub,
comes through the door,

and gasps the word
"Kapit�n."

Captain Oliver
was standing right there.

He was speaking
to Captain Oliver.

CHANCELLOR: But was he?

Why was he coming
to see the captain?
For his protection?

He'd already been stabbed.
It was too late for that.

No, I think he had
a different use
for the word "Kapit�n,"

an entirely
different meaning.

He was trying to tell us
he had been stabbed
by a captain.

Not Captain Oliver,

Captain McGuire.

You're crazy.

I think not.

Mr. Chancellor,
it might have escaped you,

but Major McGuire
is not a captain.

CHANCELLOR: Not now.

But that was his rank
two years ago in Berlin,

when he was part of
an advance company

that took
Gestapo Headquarters,

where he first came across
Otto Kreitzman.

I never saw that man
before in my life.

Where were you last night
at the time of the murder?

In my cabin, reading.

I've located a steward
who is willing to swear

that he brought fresh linens
to your cabin at 8:40,

and your cabin was empty.

Of course it was empty,
you fool.

Dan...
Quiet, Ellie.

I submit that Major McGuire
recognized this man

and tried to apprehend him.
They scuffled.

That would explain Daniken's
disheveled appearance
in the purser's office.

You caught up with him again
on the way to the pub

and you struggled again.

No, it's not true.
Ellie, don't.

No, he couldn't have
killed that man,

because he was with me
last night, in my cabin,

and I'll swear to it.

ABIGAIL: Oh, really,
Mr. Chancellor!

Why can't you see
what is so perfectly obvious
to all the rest of us?

These two young people
are in love.

I was his nurse
at a hospital
in Lancaster.

I knew he was married,
but I didn't care.

When he got his orders
to go home,

I couldn't just say goodbye,

so I boarded ship
at the last moment.

Two years ago,
an advance party into Berlin.

That would be late April
or early May.

And Kreitzman was in Cologne
during April and May.

Perhaps I have
my chronology
slightly wrong.

CHRISTY: That's not all,
Mr. Chancellor.

In German, a captain
in the army is Hauptmann,

not Kapit�n.

I hope
you're satisfied, sir.

Accusing this young man,
putting this poor girl
through this ordeal.

I think it's perfectly evident
from the clues

that the real killer
of Mr. Daniken
was Mr. Arthur Bishop.

Bishop, eh?
Yes, I thought so,
the way he ran for it.

The pity is
that he isn't alive to face
the verdict of his peers.

Oh, it was Mr. Bishop,
all right.

Well, the radiogram to shore
tells us that.

Isn't that right?
Christopher?

Hmm? Why don't you
explain for everyone?

It was the reference
to a chess match in 1936.

Sikorsky beat
the reigning champion
with a ploy

that involved the sacrifice
of his king's bishop.

Remember?

Mr. Bishop was chief designer
for Majesty Fashions.

Let's see.

Daniken was trying
to tell his wife

that Bishop was after him
for the plate.

Yeah, and it looks like
he got it, too.

That's why he tried
to jump ship
with his briefcase.

And when we dredge up
that briefcase,
we have the plate.

Christy,
what do you think?

Well, that certainly
makes sense to me.

Congratulations,
Lady Austin.

Thank you.

But you deserve
most of the credit.

Without you, I doubt
I would've even tried
to puzzle this one out.

You've made an old lady
feel young again.

Inspector, may I presume
the rest of us
are free to go?

You may.
And thank you all
for your patience.

Captain, you can begin
to let the passengers
disembark.

Thank you.

Dad, Mr. Lennihan,
could I see you both
for just a minute?

Of course, I'll make
the motives clear,

and give the suspects
some color.

It's all about a murder
that takes place
on a cruise ship.

CRANE: (CHUCKLING)
Imagine that.

Dan? Dan!

(EXCLAIMS)

(BOTH LAUGHING)

What is it you want us
to see, Son?
You'll see, Dad.

LENNIHAN: Unlocked, huh?

Chancellor told me
he never locked it.

Now, that's important,
because it wasn't locked
last night.

I don't get it.

That's just the point,
Mr. Lennihan.

If I'm right,

I believe you do get it.

This is the baby.
But how did you know?

When Crane described
the chess match,
it just hit me,

the meaning of the message.

Daniken was being chased.

He had to hide the plate
so it wouldn't fall
into the wrong hands.

Well, he couldn't put it
in his own stateroom,

so when he found
Chancellor's door unlocked,

he hid the plate in here
for safekeeping.

But how did you know
it was hidden there?

Two things.

The chess match
ended in seven moves,

or as Nicholas Crane put it
in chess parlance,
"Mate in seven."

Well, to me, that meant
the mate to the other
counterfeit plate

was here in stateroom seven.

Also, he said he was feeling
under the weather.

Well, I just put
two and two together.

Then all this business
about king's bishop,
that was all wrong.

Why didn't you
say something?

Maybe to keep from
hurting someone's feelings.

That's right, Dad.

But if Bishop didn't
kill that Gestapo agent,
who did?

And don't tell me
you don't know.

I know, all right.
But I could never prove it.

You won't have to.

Dead or not,
I do not intend
to let Mr. Bishop

take the blame
for something I did.

Mr. Viscard,
I ought to warn you...

To say nothing before
I've consulted an attorney.
It doesn't matter.

Kreitzman was filth,

responsible for the murder
of dozens of my countrymen,

including my own brother.

I was bringing
my father aboard

when I spotted him
on the upper deck.

I tried to locate him,
but he was gone.

That's when
I booked passage.

Because his name
was different,

it took me most of the voyage
to find him.

Monsieur Viscard
has agreed to return
to England, Lieutenant.

British vessel,
high seas and all,

I expect the Crown
has jurisdiction.

No argument here.

I'm happy
you see it that way.

Well, since Kreitzman
has already been tried,

found guilty
and condemned to death
by the Allied court,

this could be an interesting
and abbreviated proceeding.

Thanks.

My pleasure.

Lennihan.

All right, all right,
let's hear it.

Hear what, Dad?
"Hear what?"

Come on,
you're fairly busting

to tell me how you knew
Paul Viscard did it.

No, I'm not. Really.

Hey! Whoa!
If you don't mind, then,
I'd like to know.

You're sure?
Yeah.

You always hate it
when I tell you.

Oh, come on, Son,
that's crazy.
I don't hate it.

I'm a professional
policeman. I'm curious.

Come on, let's hear it.

Okay.

Well, the old man said
he'd been having supper
with Paul in his cabin.

But when he admitted
to using morphine
to ease his pain,

he also said
he dropped off to sleep,

which meant that Paul's alibi
wasn't an alibi at all.

And the other thing is,
Paul called the victim
by his real name, Kreitzman,

when everyone else onboard
knew him as Daniken.

That's it?

Well, I know
it's not much.

Much? You call that
police work?

Let me tell you
what that was, Son.

Guesswork.
A stab in the dark.

I'm gonna tell you
about police work, Son.

It's drudgery.
Mmm-hmm.

It's painstaking.
Mmm-hmm.

Hey!

Lieutenant.

McGINN: Major.

Well, you're looking
much happier

than the last time
we saw you.

A lot happier,
for a man whose marriage
just fell apart on him.

Isn't it wonderful?
His wife left him.

Oh, well, she ran off
with a lumberjack.

My sister
just brought me the news.
She didn't want to write.

She thought it might
hit me too hard,

being in the hospital
and all.

We're going back
just long enough for me
to resign from service.

Oh, well, good luck
to both of you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.
Thank you.

Thank you.

What's the matter, Dad?
Little attack of hay fever?

Son, you may
claim to be Irish,
but I have my doubts.

Serious doubts.

JESSICA: To the best
of my knowledge,

the Major and his nurse
got married

and lived happily ever after.

But the real happy ending
belonged to Abigail Austin.

She never realized
that her solution
to the murder was wrong.

Even though he knew the truth,

young Christy McGinn
never wrote the story.

He knew that it would break
Lady Austin's spirit,
as well as her heart.

She went on to write
another dozen books

before she finally retired
to her rose garden
in Brighton.

To those of us
who came afterwards,

she truly was
a grand old lady.

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