All language subtitles for Miss.Marple.S02E04.-.The.Sittaford.Mystery.(OmU)

- What does it say?
- It's a good luck prayer, I think.

Unless it's a curse.

(Chuckles)

(Hissing and crackling)

(Explosive boom)

(Coughing and spluttering)

I can't go on for ever, Clive.

It'd be all you wanted.

All you ever worked for.

They're already jockeying for position.

Eden, Butler, Macmillan.

You must get yourself up to the starting gate.

It is a race for the greatest prize of all.

Follow you, sir?

Yes, sir. I want to bet on a winner.

There is no heavier burden

and no greater reward

than to be prime minister of
this extraordinary nation of ours.

Only time.

Time?

Seize the moment.

What's stopping you?

What is it?

Do you have the black dog too?

He comes when you feel you can't go on?

Don't let the beast near you.

COMMENTATOR: Following Mr Churchill's
election victory at the age of 76,

people are asking who will succeed him
as leader of the Conservative Party.

Those in the know tip Captain Clive Trevelyan,

DSO and member of Parliament for Exhampton,

the Devon constituency
on the edge of Dartmoor.

Away from Parliament, Captain Trevelyan,

bachelor and former Olympic skier,

prefers his home, Sittaford House,

to the bright lights and society life
enjoyed by his ward,

well-known playboy James Pearson.

- There you are.
- You finally tracked me down, James.

- What's this?
MAN: Ssh. Quiet, please.

Sorry!

Bring Mr Pearson a cup of black coffee,
would you?

No, I don't want coffee.

So, tell me what that letter means.

What does it look like?

It looks like a letter from you,

threatening to disinherit me
unless I pull up my socks.

"Having taken you in, orphaned, as you were,
in such sad circumstances,

you have repaid my investment
in your upbringing by wasting every opportunity

and displaying sheer ingratitude," etc, etc.

I didn't write it.

Forgive me, gentlemen. Good evening.
Good evening.

Would you care to comment
on your meeting with the PM?

He and I were simply having a drink in our club.

- And what were you discussing?
- Cricket.

Do you see yourself as captain of England, sir?

Well bowled, but no wicket.

That'll be all, gentlemen. Thank you.

Paddington Station, please.

Clive!

Clive. Clive!

Clive! Come on!

Clive!

I'm so sorry, but have you seen
a nephew looking for his aunt?

We were supposed to meet
under the station clock and he wasn't there.

He may have got on the train without me,
thinking I'd got on the train without him.

It's Captain Trevelyan, isn't it?

But my nephew's a neighbour of yours.

Raymond West. The novelist.

Really? Well, I never.

You're in for Clot of the Year, darling,
if you think causing a scene in his club will help.

- Blue Curacao.
- And you're hours late. Men have been circling.

Tell them from me not to.
Creme de menthe, cognac - Napoleon.

Roddy, let me get you a drink.
What can I get you?

RODDY: I'll have an American.

Thanks.

- Still here?
- Charles Burnaby.

- I'm Emily Trefusis.
- Trefusis?

- Yes, that Trefusis.
- We've met.

Ascot this year.

- The royal enclosure.
- A friend took me.

- Hello again.
- I don't remember you.

This is my fiance Jim Pearson.
This is Charles.

Charles.

More jiggly. More, more, more, more, more.

More, more, more, more jiggly. Perfect.

Vitamins.

What's your name?

JIM: You're very handsome.
Isn't he handsome, Emily?

- Jolly handy too, I bet.
- Sitting room. Sofa.

I love you.

Ugh! (Moans softly)

Done.

Jim's right about you.

You are awfully handy.

Good night, Emily.

Good night, Charles.

What with Raymond's cottage
being next door to you at Sittaford House -

if one can be next door in a country lane -

it does make sense to share a taxi,
with the price of things these days.

(Sighs) What a steep hill.

Here we are.
There's a key under a flowerpot if he's not here.

(Door shuts and taxi drives off)

(Door opening)

Good evening, Captain.

Ahmed!

- Mr Enderby?
- I believe he's asleep, sir.

- And Harry?
- Both of them.

(Grunts sleepily)

- Ah.
- (Bird squawks)

- I must have dropped off.
- You must have.

- You're late.
- I dropped in to the club.

- Ah, so the papers are right, then.
- What do you mean?

You only go to the club if something's afoot.

Discreet hugger-mugger about your prospects.

- How was your week?
- Ah, well, all's quiet on the constituency front.

Except the Scouts want you
to open their new hut.

Fancy a nightcap, finish our game?

Not tonight, John.

Hm.

(Clicks tongue)

(Squawks)

(Wind whistles)

RADIO: Avant-garde strings

We interrupt this programme to issue
a severe weather warning for the Southwest.

There will be a dramatic drop in temperature
with heavy snowfall drifting in high ground.

- Residents of affected areas should stay...
- (Phone rings)

That ends the severe weather warning.
I return you to Contemporary Concert.

Raymond? Oh!

Where are you?

Still in France?

But when will you be back?

Final chapter. Quotation.

"If you can keep your head while
all around you are losing theirs..."

(Distant bell clangs)

(Dogs bark)

(Squawks)

I hope my dear parents would have approved of
the path I've trod through life.

It's a wise father that knows his own child.

My father always...

Let me rest, for God's sake!

(Floorboard creaks)

(High-pitched scream)

Sorry. Just wondered
how the patient was this morning,

- but I can see...
- Still on the sofa, dead to the world.

Is he? Only the door's wide open and...
oh, look, there's a note.

Idiot.

What's he done?
Did I say he was brought up by Clive Trevelyan?

- Was he really?
- Trevelyan was his guardian.

Yesterday they had this awful row and to make
things worse, Jim's gone chasing after him.

- Where's he gone?
- Devon.

I'm going that way.

I could...

And why should I accept a lift from a stranger?

Because your Lagonda needs a new camshaft.

You told me last night.

Did I? What a chatterbox I am.

What's your motor?

A Mark II rust bucket.

But it's outside now, it's got four wheels...

...and a working camshaft.

Give me 25 minutes.

ENDERBY: The prison bell rang last night.
Another escape.

I heard.

Have the police made any progress at all
about the break-in at the flat?

Not that I know.

Strange business. Nothing missing at all?

I'm not so sure now.

Someone sent James a letter
on my London notepaper, supposedly from me.

Very strange.

- Who's the Turkish Delight from?
- It's from the Women's Institute.

It's a thank-you for your talk.

Your favourite.

Raymond West has been on.
He's stuck in France.

He doesn't like the idea of his aunt
being all alone in this weather,

so I said we'd take her in until he can get back.

Very well.

Er...

The Prime Minister's personal secretary called...

about what you discussed at the er,
club last night.

It was nothing.

Right.

- I said you'd ring back anyway.
- I'm out... all day.

I need to be on my own to think.

Where are you off to, to think?

(Slams down papers)
Up on the moor. I don't know.

You're my political agent, John,
not my damned nursemaid.

- Don't fuss.
- Yes, yes, yes, yes.

(Harry squawks)
- Sorry, sorry.

(Clicks tongue)

Catch anything this morning, Harry?

- Harry says, "No, I didn't."
- (Clicks tongue)

It's the best I can do.

AMERICAN MAN: I have to share
a bathroom in the corridor?

We're the Three Crowns, Exhampton,
sir, not the Savoy Hotel.

Number three, then, Mr Zimmerman.

And eight for you, Dr Burt.

(Clock cuckoos nine times)

- It's nine o'clock, sir.
- Green.

Yes, green.

Can I see a lunch menu?

Er, chef's been in bed for three days
with a... a tricky germ.

- I can do you some bread and cheese.
- Would you like me to take a look at him?

- He'll be as right as ninepence by tomorrow.
- That depends how ill he is.

WOMAN: Poor Mr Stone.

Do tell him to get well soon from me.

Miss Percehouse!
When did you meet Archie?

Last week. I sought him out in the kitchen
for the secret of his soufflé.

Ah, yeah. Yeah, he does a nice soufflé.

- Bellhop!
- Eh?

- He means porter.
- Oh! I'll show you up myself, gentlemen.

Mr Kirkwood had a purge of the staff last week.

I should have done it last year when I took over.
They've never been up to my standards.

So I'm single-handed at the minute.

Ah, Miss Willett, Mrs Willett.
Enjoy your bird-watching.

- Thank you. Good morning.
- Morning.

Do wear something more life-enhancing
at dinner.

You're verging on beige.

You are brave.

If our feathered friends can stand the cold,
then so can I.

No, being out there with a prisoner on the loose.

- What prisoner?
- Didn't you hear the bell last night?

Dartmoor Prison. A convict escaped.

Oh, well. He'll have far more important things
to think about than interfering with me.

See you this evening, Violet.

Don't mooch around all day.
Find something to do.

I'll try.

Good morning.

(Shivers)

- I shall inform Mr Enderby you're here, madam.
- Thank you.

TREVELYAN: Exhampton...

Good morning. I'm calling to confirm
a reservation in the name of Airwell.

Frank Airwell.

Your very finest room.

Just for tonight, that's correct.

Who were Jim's parents?

They worked for Trevelyan
as gardener and parlour maid.

Both died on a servants' outing to Weymouth,
in a boating tragedy.

And he had the best of everything
with Trevelyan as his guardian.

Toys. School. University.
A helping hand through life.

Naturally.

Have you met him?

Once or twice.

I used to be close to a neighbour of his in Devon
before I met Jim.

Raymond West, the novelist.

I adore his stuff, don't you?

I'll um... I'll have Ahmed bring the car round.

- I'm driving myself.
- Oh. If you're sure.

- Ow!
- Careful.

Before you go, Captain, you're about
the same size as Raymond in the arms.

Would you mind?

(Hums to herself)

Bend your elbow.

Thank you. (Chuckles)

Is that a Mrs Herbert Stevens?

Um...

Ask John, he's the gardener.

- Goodbye, Miss Marple.
- Goodbye.

Perhaps we'll have a chance to chat tomorrow.

What shall I tell the PM's secretary
if he calls again?

Say er... the situation will resolve itself...

...soon.

You're a good chap, John.

What are you up to, Charles?

You didn't meet me at Ascot.
I've never been to the royal enclosure.

The parade ring, then.

I wasn't at Ascot this year.
And I'm sure you weren't.

I want to meet Trevelyan
and talk to him... for work.

You're a journalist.

Stop the car.

No, I won't. We might get stuck.

I said stop the car.

God.

(Tyres screech)

Where did you get that from?

My handbag. Daddy gave it to me for my 21 st.
You were saying?

I'm after an interview with Trevelyan.

Reptile.

I hate journalists.

Just hold on.
I want to know the truth about Trevelyan.

Well, you're not using me to do it.
Why don't you like journalists?

Is it because of Daddy's troubles?

All that black market stuff in the war.

And the insurance claim.

Ooh, and that extraordinary party he threw
in Biarritz with the Windsors and the gendarmes.

(Laughs) You can't print that!

Not in the Gazette - but I can take it
to one of the sensational Sundays.

I need to make a splash, Emily,
one way or another.

Drive on?

Drive on.

(Wheezes and coughs)

(Shivers)

(Harry squawks)
- (Clicks tongue)

- Doesn't bother you?
- No.

My friend, Miss Hartnell,
is always letting her canary out.

Can't think where Clive's got to.

How did you come to work
for Captain Trevelyan?

I owe him my life.

He rescued me from no-man's-land
under German fire in 1917.

That's how he won his DSO.

I stayed a soldier until '37.

I was at a bit of a loose end after that, so er...

Anyway, Clive got me to run things here
for him while he was away.

He must be a great friend.

Oh, he's a... he's a true comrade, Miss Marple.

Though you think you know someone...

- Hm?
- Just that I'm typing up his memoirs.

He er... he dictated the final chapter last night.

It's not due at the publisher's
for another six weeks.

(Door opens)
- Ah.

Good.

Where is he, then?

James?

- I want to see him. Where is he?
- The captain's not here.

- Well, where the bugger is he?
- Language! Lady.

Don't mind me. People can so easily
forget themselves when they're cross.

Does er... the captain know
a Mr Frank Airwell by any chance?

Um... Airwell? Er, no, never heard of him.

And... is there a hotel in Exhampton?

Yes, yes, the Three Crowns.

- Why?
- I think you'll find he's staying there.

I've just walked from Exhampton.
It took two hours. Are you sure?

- Oh, yes.
- Right, right.

(Clock cuckoos six times)

Captain Trevelyan, if only you'd warned me,
you could have had my best room.

- Mr Kirkwood.
- Yes, Captain.

Frank Airwell is a figment of my imagination.

Eh?

Oh!

- Avoiding the press.
- Precisely.

Honoured to have you stay, sir.
And I hope it's the first of many.

There's no fire in the room, sir. The coal man
couldn't get through on account of the snow.

I've been in some cold places in my time.
Usually managed to keep warm.

I bet. And there's a slight shortage of dinner,
now I think of it.

Clive!

Evadne!

How are the birds?

Oh... (Chuckles)
...all flutter and plumage, you know.

- You're staying?
- Mm-hm.

- How very exciting.
- I'll see you at dinner.

Er, number one then, Captain.

I'll just get your bag, sir.

(Radio crackles)

- Come on!
- (Radio squeaks and crackles)

- I'm trying my best, sir.
- Well, try harder.

There's slaughter in LA tonight.

I wanna smell the blood.

Now it's time for your favourite, sir.

(Radio whistles)

I'm gonna turn the other cheek tonight.

ANNOUNCER: We interrupt this programme
to issue a police warning.

The convict who escaped
from Dartmoor Prison last night

is now believed to be
in the vicinity of Exhampton.

He is described as dangerous and should not
be approached under any circumstances.

- If you'djust like to sign there, Mr?
- Smith.

Smith?

Jones, then.

- Oh, Jones.
- Smith-Jones.

- With a hyphen.
- And no luggage, Mr Smith-Jones.

- Foolishly, I left my suitcase on the train.
- Mr Kirkwood!

- My spectacles. I've mislaid them.
- (Mumbles)

Was that Captain Trevelyan
signing the register?

Oh, yes, yes. Clive's a regular guest.

So, number four then, Mr Smith-Jones.

Follow me.

- Trevelyan's here?
- Yes.

D-d-do you know him, sir?

I've never heard of him.

(Rings)

- Sittaford House.
- (Caller hangs up)

Hello? (Rattles receiver)

Hello?

Reptile.

Don't let me down, Emily.

- Miss Trefusis. What a surprise.
- Thank you.

I'm looking for Jim. Is he here?

He was.
He went down to Exhampton to find the captain.

- Hell!
- I'm Charles Burnaby, Emily's cousin.

Very, very distant cousin.

And a very, very chivalrous one.
I came to her rescue, didn't I?

Emily!

Miss Marple.

- Is Raymond here?
- No.

(Door opens)

ENDERBY: Ahmed?

I have been ensuring
everything is secure outside.

May I retire for the night?

I have a headache.

Yes, yes, we can manage.

Well, come along in.

Get yourselves warm.
I've not known weather like this.

(Mutters) What was that about?

Manners, Harry.

Starting before the rest of us. (Chuckles)

- Oh, no more for me, Clive.
- Are you sure?

Oh, well... the merest soupçon.

(Laughs) You're so persuasive.

- Miss Willett.
- Er, no, no, no, no. She'll stick to water.

Otherwise her face will flush
and that's not a pleasant sight, is it, Violet?

Captain, honestly.
What do you think of her new dress?

I think it's delightful.

If it wasn't for that brooch of mine that she
borrowed without so much as a by-your-leave,

I don't know what she'd look like.

Not that it goes with her grandmother's earrings.

Ah, Miss Percehouse.

Your usual table?

Have you found my spectacles yet?

Sorry, no. Have you checked the bar area?

Mr Kirkwood, would you set up a table
after dinner for the Ouija board?

- Mother, no.
- Don't be so tiresome.

Contacting the spirits on a night like tonight
would be so exciting.

Don't you think so, Captain?

(Wind gusts)

- Why not?
- Why not indeed.

Shall I inform the other guests?

Oh, do.

Let us tune ourselves to the mysterious ether.

(Shivers)

A Mr Zimmerman, sir.
He says would you join him for a drink.

Excuse me. This won't take long.

You've got a bloody nerve coming down here.

- You don't know why I'm here yet.
- I know you had my flat broken into.

The hell I did.

You owe me.

All I want is your signature.

And if I don't?

Don't push me.

We'll both fall.

- And what do you do, Mr Burnaby?
- I write a little.

Fiction or nonfiction?

- Fiction. Hm?
- You must be so clever.

Like my nephew Raymond.

The neighbour you met
Captain Trevelyan through?

Yes, we were briefly engaged.
Try a piece of this.

Mmm!

Have you met Jim, Mr Burnaby,

Emily's most recent fiance?

In passing. I'm thrilled for Emily.

It's about time she settled down.

(Wind howls)
- Ooh.

I'm glad we're in here and not out there.

You must pick up some fascinating titbits
on the political grapevine.

- Ah...
- I expect that's confidential, Charles.

(Heavy thud)

Harry?

(Clicks tongue)

Oh. Poor chap's dead.

Don't eat that!

That came this morning. It was meant for Clive.

An impertinent wine from an insolent cellar.

One has to hand it to Clive though. He keeps
some exceptional vintages up at the house.

I was hoping to have tried them one day.

What a beautiful blue.

Just like your eyes - if they weren't brown.

Oh, good. Come along, Violet.

No, no, no, no, no, no. Don't go.
I value your opinion.

Yours too.

What would you do to a man
who took in a poor little orphan boy...

...and told him he was the apple of his eye,

and then, just because he made a few mistakes
with work and money,

threatened to cut the apple out of his will
and even deny sending the letter?

What would you do to a man like that?

What would you do?

Who knows?

Who knows?

(Wind howls)

You don't really believe all this nonsense,
do you?

Hey, I knew a guy in Oakland once.

He saw the ghost of his brother...
before he even died.

Let us take our positions.

Yes, Captain, why don't you sit here?

Evadne.

Come next to me if you're nervous.

Thank you. I'm not nervous
in the slightest degree.

I belong to the Psychical Research Society.
Lyme Regis branch.

Oh.

The lights, please, Mr Kirkwood.

Let us make contact with the spirits.

Are we all receptive?

For what we are about to receive,
may the Lord make us...

truly grateful?

Is anybody there?

Are we in the presence of a spirit?

Yes.

Do you have a message?

Yes.

Spirit, what is the message?

Spirit, what is your message?

D.

E.

A.

T.

- H.
- Death.

If I stay on the move, keep to the road,
I should reach Exhampton in two hours.

- Two hours?!
- You'll freeze. When I'm in St Moritz we never...

We're not talking about swishing around
on the piste having jolly super fun.

Why won't you wait until morning?
Perhaps the telephone will be working again.

If Clive's in danger, I must warn him.
What's a few feet of snow?

Good luck, sir.

(Wind gusts)

ALL: T.

O.

N.

I.

G.

H.

- T.
- Tonight.

- Ask it who?
- Oh, God, no. Please don't.

- Are you sure?
- I insist.

Spirit, who will die?

Speak.

(Clatter)
- Oh! What was that?

- Don't be so jumpy.
- I'll go and see.

No, Captain. No, no, no, Captain.

It's nothing. It's just these old houses.

I'll go and take a look to be on the safe side.

Everyone, please.
We must not lose contact with the spirits.

Well spoken.

We are privileged guests in another world.

Let us not abuse its hospitality.

(Enderby grunts wearily)

Tell us who will die.

T.

R.

E. V. E.

L.

(Glass shatters)
- It's me.

- (Violet gasps)
KIRKWOOD: The lights! What's happening?

Is everyone all right?
Don't panic, it's just a power cut.

MRS WILLETT: Could you supply
some sort of light, Mr Kirkwood?

Still dead.

- What are you doing?
- I'm going after Enderby.

I'm sure he'll manage. One hero's enough.

I've no idea where she gets
her sarcastic streak from.

It's not my side of the family.

He's not a young man and I can't wait here
drinking cocoa while he's out there.

(Clock chimes)

(Bell tolls)

(Wind howls)

(Clock cuckoos once)

So, I turn right at the end of the lane
for the Exhampton Road, do I?

And straight on.
He's had quite a start on you.

I'm pretty fit. I'll catch him up.

Be careful, Mr Burnaby.

Bring the cocoa, will you?

MISS MARPLE:
It's how the Turkish Delight came.

It's postmarked Exhampton.

The forwarding address
is the Women's Institute there.

- What about the note?
- It's plain, unheaded.

For his recent talk on Women At Westminster.

But who sent it?

Perhaps whoever broke into
the Captain's flat in London.

Certainly someone who knew
it was his favourite.

Was Raymond terribly upset
when I broke off the engagement?

After he introduced me to Jim.

Yes.

But, as I pointed out, his novels are full of
that sort of thing and much worse.

Do you often call Cousin Charles "Mr Burnaby"?

If you must know...

I met him yesterday, through Jim.

Sort of.

He said he wanted to help.

He's ajournalist.

All he really wanted
was to get close to Captain Trevelyan.

How unscrupulous.

But rather clever, don't you think?

That, too.

Time, Doc.

Do I have to do this?

You want to stay on the payroll, Doc,

you gotta turn your hand to some of this
and some of that. You get it?

I got it.

(Knocks)

(Woman screams)

(Echoing thud)

(Thud)

(Door creaks open)

Emily?

Oh, do put that away, please.

I was just closing the window.

It's been banging like anything.

If I was the nervous sort,
I'd say there was evil in this house.

The house is bricks and mortar.

If there's evil, it's in someone's heart.

(Wind whistles)

(Footsteps crunch on snow)

(Approaching footsteps)

It's me!

Burnaby!

Never creep up on an old soldier.

I wasn't creeping!

Damn it, man. I might have killed you.

(Breathes heavily)

Come on, Burnaby.

Come on.

(Cuckoos five times)

(Urgent knocking)

Yeah, all right. All right. I'm coming.

I'm coming. I'm coming.

Mr Enderby!

Where's the Captain?

He's in bed, Mr Enderby. Everyone is.

Well, was.

(Man sneezes)

Everything all right?

Go back to bed, Archie.
Keep your strength up.

Chef. Got a tricky germ.

Follow me.

(Knocks)

Captain Trevelyan?

(Knocks again)

Captain Trevelyan?

(Telephone rings)

Sittaford House?

Yes, Mr Burnaby.

Oh, no.

The poor man.

No. No, no. I see. I see. Thank you.

Mr Enderby?

Mr Enderby?

Constable Narracott's sister says
he's stuck in Plymouth.

His sergeant's away on honeymoon
and all roads to Exhampton are blocked.

There's...

There's just no police.

Well, that won't do.

I was a Special Constable during the war.

Will you accept my authority, Kirkwood?

- Erm...
- Good man.

Right. When the guests get up,
give them breakfast, as usual.

Don't say what's happened.

I must ask you to step out of earshot
while I call Westminster

and inform the powers that be
of a national tragedy.

In normal circumstances,
I'd come with you, but...

I have cleared the path for you, miss.

Are you sure you don't wish me
to accompany you?

No, thank you.

- Did Charles mention Jim?
- I'm afraid not.

Why did the Captain not return last night?

It's all a mystery, at the moment, Mr Ghali.

I shall pray for his soul.

(Wind howls)

Look at this.

It's a champagne glass.

He had a visitor, then.

Though Clive never drank champagne.

What's that?

One of his Egyptian souvenirs.

It was the scorpion he cherished most.

Though why he had it with him...

He's smiling, don't you think?

It's only postmortem rictus.
The grin of death.

Was the window open or closed?

Er, it was closed. Closed. There was no fire.

The room was cold.

This is Pearson's.

He departed this life no earlier than eleven,
no later than midnight.

KIRKWOOD: Shall we... erm...

shift him into the garage,
while the guests are having breakfast?

We should pack snow around the body
to prevent leakage.

Morning.

The cards were right.

(Violet sobs)

MRS WILLETT: Violet...

Shut up!

- Ah!
- Was that necessary?

Yes.

MRS WILLETT: Poor, poor man.

It's such a loss to the nation.

Let alone to those of us
who were fortunate enough

to bask personally in the warmth of his smile.

(Sobs)

Quite. (Enderby clears his throat)

This is yours, isn't it?

Oh, yes. So it is. Thanks.

Where were you between eleven and midnight?

Me? I was in my room.

Alone?

No, I was with a bottle of port.

He as good as told Clive he'd kill him at dinner.

- I wasn't serious.
- Did anyone else witness this threat?

I heard him. So did Dr Burt.

- This is madness.
- Sit down.

- You've no authority here.
- I have assumed authority.

Let me go.

Have it your way, then.

You have no authority here, Enderby.

Let me out or I'll sue you for false imprisonment.

You're staying in custody until I find out the truth.

Custody? Lts a larder, you oaf!

Emily!

- Emily!
- Is that Jim?

I'm afraid so, Miss Trefusis.

He's hurt. Let him out at once.

- I can't do that.
- What?

I'm not saying he did it.
I'm not saying he didn't.

But until I find out, he stays in there.

- I'm innocent!
- Of course you are, my darling, and I'll prove it.

- I love you, Emily.
- I love you, too.

- You're wonderful. You promise?
- I promise you.

What the hell is going on?

Ah, yes. Erm...

I have requisitioned your larder, Mr Stone.

How am I meant to get lunch?

Well, what do you need?

Ingredients.

The front door and the back door
were both locked and bolted.

I made sure of it, what with that...

...escaped convict out there.

- What about the cellar?
- I keep it padlocked.

I've checked and it's still secure.

- Are you sure about that?
- Yeah.

Yeah. Quite sure.
No-one could have got in that way.

Then the killer was already in the hotel.

One thing.

I was doing my rounds and er...

Well, I saw that Dr Burt going up on the roof.

Stargazing.

I need a hobby,
with Mr Zimmerman so demanding.

- A personal doctor?
- He can afford it.

And I can't afford not to.

I refused to join this National Health Service
on principle.

If you can't offer the doctor a shilling,

then you shouldn't get ill.

Did you have a good view from the roof?

I could only see outside.

Shall I attempt an autopsy on the deceased?

There's kitchen knives.

Nutcrackers could be handy.

After that weird stuff with the Ouija board...

Spooked me, I can tell you.

The Captain and I were in his room.

We had business interests.

Anglo-American Holdings.
Heard of them?

Well, I needed him to sign a document.

Then we said good night and went to bed.

Your room was on the same floor.

Did you hear anything?

Sure I did.

A dame screaming somewhere.

I certainly didn't hear a scream.
Nowhere at all. Definitely nowhere.

Why exactly are you staying here,
Mr... Smith-Jones?

I...

I couldn't get in anywhere else.

There is nowhere else in Exhampton.

But, honestly, no scream.

There was a terrible scream.

I opened my door to see, but...

without my spectacles...

I'm almost certain I saw Mrs Willett.

Erm... Why are you in Exhampton,
Miss Percehouse?

The air in Devon is so good for me,
my doctor says.

Better than the air in Lyme Regis?

Well...

there's more of it.

Somehow.

It was bad enough

losing my bird-watching haversack
on the moor earlier.

And then Violet, in that awful new dress

that clashed with my brooch
and those old earrings.

And Mr Pearson.

And then the spirit foretelling
Clive's tragic death.

Oh, it was a dreadful day.

Dreadful!

I had to take a sleeping pill.

So, you slept through until the morning, then?

Yes.

Unfortunately, madam,
you were seen in the corridor.

Oh, no, I thought I'd got over that.

- Over what?
- Sleepwalking.

- Sleepwalking?
- Sleepwalking.

Yes. When she's cold and when she gets upset
about my father's death.

I think it's wonderful that she's developed this
interest in bird-watching. I think it helps her.

Sorry.

Can I go now, please?

(Sobs) No!

MISS MARPLE:
The champagne is most interesting.

And two glasses?
One of them in the bathroom?

- Broken.
- Hm.

And the rose.

I wonder... how long Miss Percehouse
has been a member

of her Psychical Research Society,
Lyme Regis branch, where the air is so scant.

Mind you...

...it would be easy to manipulate the glass

to frighten someone present, wouldn't it?

What rose, Miss Marple?

When Captain Trevelyan went out,
to do whatever he did all day

before arriving at the Three Crowns,
he'd cut himself... a Mrs Herbert Stevens.

Damn.

The variety is not important,

though I do so like those fully-double
winter repeaters, don't you?

But I gathered it was unusual
for him to wear a buttonhole.

He wanted to look his best.

And champagne for two?

Perhaps a woman is involved.

A woman? Trevelyan?

People are full of surprises,
Mr Burnaby, don't you agree?

Well, he is a slippery customer.

I wouldn't put anything past him.

Cigarette, Charles?

No, thanks. I don't.

Did, erm,

Captain Trevelyan actually tell Mr Pearson
he had cut him out of his will?

He hinted at it.

- Well, hinted that he might.
- Oh?

He doesn't seem to have done.

This is his will.

It is Mr Pearson who inherits
the vast bulk of the estate.

Who else benefits?

Only Mr Enderby.

A small bequest.

Two hundred pounds
and the Captain's war medal.

What?

Nothing. For the moment.

When Captain Trevelyan took leave of
his oldest friend yesterday,

it was...

It was somehow final.

As if he knew he would never see
Mr Enderby again.

He had booked his room
in the name of Frank Airwell.

I don't see.

F Airwell.

Farewell.

Yes.

It's as if he knew he was going to die,

just as the cards had predicted.

Possibly.

ENDERBY: I found these airline tickets
in Captain Trevelyan's things.

He was planning to leave the country today.

For Buenos Aires.

Buenos Aires?

He had two seats booked.

One in his own name
and one for Mrs Trevelyan.

Mrs Trevelyan?

We believe that yesterday he married

and, today, he would have gone
on honeymoon with his new bride,

who was with him last night in his room.

I... I...

Yes?

I find it so hard to believe.

MRS WILLETT: Hard?

Is it hard to believe that two ships
adrift in an ocean of loneliness

could rope themselves together

and steer a true course to the island of dreams,

guided by the twinkling stars

and smiled upon by heaven?

Yes, Violet, you were going to have
a daddy again.

And now, twice widowed,

my last chance of happiness gone forever.

Excuse me.

Thank you, Ahmed,

for reaching these down...

for me.

Oh, and a fire.

You think of everything, almost before one asks.

Thank you, madam.

Here we go.

The bathroom is through here, Miss Trefusis.

I'm afraid the, er,

the geyser is out of order,
so if you want some hot water,

I'll have to bring it up to you.

Your, er, cousin

could put that screen
between the beds for privacy.

Thank you. We'll manage.

By the way, do you happen to know
if Mr Zimmerman's a farmer?

Last night, I heard him talking
to that doctor about rams.

- Rams?
- No idea.

- Thanks for the clean shirt.
- Thought I'd mention it.

It's horrid.

(Bed springs squeak)

The bed is lumpy.

Change your mind, then,
and have Trevelyan's room and I'll stay here.

Why don't you offer to have his room?

- I don't want to sleep in a dead man's bed.
- Nor do I.

Well, then, we're stuck together, aren't we?

Do you snore?

No-one's ever told me.

You've missed a button.

Have I?

(Knock at door)

Come in.

I've something to show you.

It's a marriage certificate.

I'm Mrs Clive Trevelyan.

I wore a blue hair ribbon.

Earrings, dress, brooch.

Something old. Something new.

Last summer, when we first stayed here,

Mother disappeared, bird-watching.

I wandered into the lounge

and there was a coffee morning
for the Conservative Association.

Forgive me.

What's your name?

Violet.

Violet?

So very beautiful.

Me?

- I once...
- What?

I once thought I'd never find happiness
ever again.

He invited my mother and me to tea
at Sittaford House.

I only went once.

I felt... a presence.

A presence?

Clive laughed it off.

But there was something.

Why didn't you tell your mother?

You've met her.

We used to see each other at his London flat.

Last month, he proposed and yesterday we went
to Exeter Registry Office and were married.

The Argentine is a long way for a honeymoon.

I didn't know.

When he said to bring my passport,
I thought France, perhaps.

What happened last night?

I went to him.

Oh, my beautiful wife.

I was... getting ready

and I heard someone come into the bedroom.

(Glass shatters)

- Did you hear who it was?
- No.

Just murmuring and...
I heard a cough.

I smelt a cigarette.

I waited for Clive to come and tell me
the coast was clear.

When he didn't, I went out.

And there he was.

The strange thing is he had a smile on his face.

Did the Captain ever mention his will,
Mrs Trevelyan?

We visited his solicitor yesterday to change it.

I inherit everything.

JIM: What a rascally rascal!

(lnhales) But it's good news, in a way, though.

If I don't get a penny,
I don't have a motive thingy for killing him.

- I'm not sure that follows.
- I hope it does.

- What's going to happen to me, to us?
- Chin up. I'll think of something.

Can you let me out?

Just for one kiss?

I mustn't.

Sorry to disturb you,
but have you seen the chef?

- Why?
- I want to make a complaint.

About his custard.

Do you understand women?

No.

I thought I understood men, but apparently not.

What's your considered view of Elizabeth,
Miss Percehouse?

I invited her to a concert next week,
but she said no.

Elgar.

Well, he's jolly good.

It wasn't that.
She just doesn't seem to want to know me.

What do you think I should do?

I think you should start by telling me
what you're doing here.

It doesn't matter any more.

My name is Donald Garfield.

An officially-authorised Whitehall dirt digger.

Trevelyan could have been Prime Minister,

so I was ordered to sniff out any skeletons

in his constituency cupboard.

(Sign creaks)

It didn't need both of you.

Not that your company is, in any way,
unpleasant, Miss Trefusis.

What do you want?

I have some information.

Well?

I need you to lend me some money.

On a permanent basis.

If you've information, Doctor, then I think...

What's a pound between friends, eh?

I hope it's worth it.

I always give good value.

I wasn't stargazing, last night, on the roof.

What were you doing?

Getting news of slaughter in Los Angeles.

The Rams drawing blood.

... in balmy blue skies,
here in sunny Los Angeles,

- and the Rams have the Yanks in trouble...
- (Teeth chatter)

... that's our man Brocklin, storming down the line!

This is fantastic! What a run!

What a run! He passes...

(Yells excitedly)

They're scoring deep!
They're scoring deep!

Mr Zimmerman made me lie to you.

"Made" you, Doctor?

Lf, indeed, you are a doctor.

I'm his creature.

And, no,

I'm not quite a doctor, any more.

I was struck off the Medical Register
for professional misconduct.

What sort?

Least said, soonest mended, I find.

But now I have to turn a penny
from every available source.

Was it drugs?

I've forgotten.

Those capsules you give him, what are they?

A shilling a dozen to me
and a shilling each to him.

Coloured water.

It keeps the stupid Yank happy
and it pays my rent.

But it's never quite enough for extras.

Wake Mr Enderby.

And so it was that in 1926...

I prepared to embark on ajourney
to the mysterious land of Egypt.

(Zimmerman coughs)

What the hell's this?

This is the hotel register.

You said you were in Captain Trevelyan's room
and he signed something.

- May we compare signatures?
- Get the hell out of my room!

Or you could wait until the police arrive
in the morning, if you'd prefer?

My fiance is under suspicion
for a murder he didn't commit.

I won't stand for any more lies.

- I wasn't in his room.
- We know.

You were listening to a football game.

Look, he wasn't cooperating last night,

so I thought I'll see him at breakfast,

but he was dead meat.

So, you had to forge his signature?

Yeah.

What was this document?

A statement by Trevelyan

exonerating me of any wrongdoing
with the TX75 scandal.

TX75?

What?

A naval artillery shell.
Had a habit of exploding before it left the barrel.

- Killed thousands of American sailors...
- 62, by the end of the war.

Trevelyan and I owned the company
who made it.

Those shells were knowingly manufactured
substandard to cream off an extra profit.

He got the cream!

I got the two-cent deposit,
because he's out of the picture now.

In a week, the spit hits the fan
with a Congressional Inquiry.

(Coughs)

Buenos Aires is a wonderful honeymoon spot.

No extradition treaty.

JIM: Enderby!

Enderby!

Enderby, dear boy, come here!

You're very noisy today.

What do you want?

Will you please tell Mr Enderby
that I would like to confess, please?

In your own words.

It was me.

That moved the glass
that spelled out "death" to Trevelyan.

I'm not interested in your mumbo-jumbo
parlour-game nonsense!

I want to know who killed Clive.

Well, not me. I don't inherit anything, do I?

I can tell you something, though.

Last night, I overheard

Archie Stone, the chef,

and Kirkwood.

They must have forgotten
that I was in solitary confinement,

with nothing to drink,
save for a bottle of cooking sherry.

(lnhales) Anyway, the chef is planning
to scarper after dinner.

If you're looking for the killer, he's your man.

It's true, Emily.

ENDERBY: You wouldn't know the truth
if it hit you in the face!

You repaid Clive's kindness
with an utter lack of responsibility.

If you think you can lie your way out of this one,

you've got another think coming!

EMILY: Jim overheard them.
Stone is making a run for it tonight.

- Charlie doesn't believe him.
- I didn't say that.

Do you, Emily?

What a silly question! Of course I do.

You must be exhausted,
the pair of you, and freezing.

I'll heat some soup.

Oh, I'm going to go and change.
That place is dreadfully dirty.

Coal dust in the register.

I think she's having second thoughts about Jim.

Oh?

I suspect he did overhear something.

Perhaps it wasn't what it seemed.

- No, I meant...
- Second thoughts about them?

- The engagement, you mean?
- Yes.

Of course I feel sorry,
if that's upsetting her, but I can't help...

I've never met a girl quite like Emily.

I doubt she's ever met a young man
quite like you.

I know it was a rotten trick,
the way I got myself into this,

but I can honestly say
I've stopped worrying about Trevelyan.

It's Emily that matters now.

"17th May, 1927. Cairo.

Stifling, but then I'm stifled in England.

Lack of funds, though I have met a chap
who needs a favour on the quiet."

It was between the pages.

"He could be the answer to my problem."

Look at this.

It's the same place.

It's a woman, isn't it, next to him?

I wonder who she is

and what she meant to Trevelyan.

(Coughs)

British afternoon tea. Great tradition.

It feels like the war, doesn't it, Elizabeth?

But... less fun.

Does anyone know
if that convict's been recaptured?

I think we're safe.

One look at this joint
and he'd beg to be back in his cosy little cell.

Thankfully, the tenacious Mr Enderby
is on the killer's trail.

I overheard him talking to a Miss Marbles,
at Sittaford House,

and it's all to do with Egypt

and a scorpion's curse.

Egypt?

What scorpion?

Slow jazz

(Knock at door)

More hot water, Miss Trefusis?

Just leave it outside, Mr Kirkwood, please.

I said, leave it outside.

Charles?

Thank goodness for the bubbles.

Thank goodness.

Time you should be outside,
if Stone's going to make a run for it.

Five minutes.
I need to make some notes for my scoop.

You don't think Jim is lying about Stone, do you?

No.

So, tell me about your family.
Brothers? Sisters?

Only child. West Norwood.

Mother died when I was three.

And your father?

They separated early on. I never knew him.

He only died recently, I heard.

Be an angel and pass me the loofah,
would you?

- Who brought you up?
- Nuns.

- Strict?
- They had the devil in them.

- In West Norwood?
- So to speak.

But I stood up for myself.

It was they who said
that we should confront the devil.

So I did.

Gave them hell.

- You need hot.
- Leave it. I'll do it.

No, Charles. Charles!

Slower.

- Like that?
- Perfect.

Now go.

Keep warm up there.

We have to make a run for it!

Hurry up!

Drive like the wind, darling.

The murder squad will be here by morning.

Your chef has just run off
with one of your guests and you don't care?

I'm beyond caring.

Miss Trefusis says
can you meet her in room one?

Captain Trevelyan's, as was.

Oh, and have you seen the doc?

It's just that...
Mrs Zimmerman can't find him.

It's a... a sacred gold scorpion of the Zekhens -
pre-dynastic pharaohs.

Three years ago,
a hitherto unknown Zekhen tomb

was excavated close to where
Captain Trevelyan was stationed in 1927.

But it had been looted of all its treasures,

including the scorpion.

Your friend was an ambitious young man

and he would have needed money
to establish himself in the political world.

A great deal of it.

- Do I shock you?
- Er... Sadly, Miss Marple, no longer.

No. But what's the scorpion to do with
Clive's murder, however he acquired it?

Well, it um... it brings a curse on those
who would disturb the dead king.

- You don't believe that.
- Hardly, Mr Enderby.

But er... perhaps the killer hoped we would.

Of course,
Mr Ghali is the person to ask about Egypt.

Ahmed Ghali...

and his accomplice.

Good Lord!

Percehouse was my maiden name.

I was married to an archaeologist -
Arthur Hopkins.

In 1927, he was attached to the Cairo Museum

and determined to prove himself.

But he disappeared.

When the tomb was discovered three years ago,

so was his body.

He'd been shot.

I travelled to Egypt to excavate the facts,

where I met Ahmed.

So some good came out of this sad business.

I was honoured to be of assistance
in establishing the truth.

I believe in retribution.

We agreed Captain Trevelyan should die.

You secured employment in this house

in order to kill Clive?

Yes. May I say I regret the death of your hawk.

Damn the hawk!
You would have poisoned Clive!

The telephone wasn't working
because you disconnected it.

To prevent help being called if Clive
had eaten the Turkish Delight as you'd intended.

And then you reconnected it in the morning.

Then somehow you found out he was
at the hotel and you went and stabbed him.

No!

- Elizabeth.
- I don't think so.

Mr Ghali had no idea
the captain was at the Three Crowns.

Though you saw him there,
much to your surprise.

Yes, I... I tried to telephone Ahmed,

but of course, the line was dead.

So... I waited.

- And I went to the captain's room.
- Elizabeth, let me take the blame.

I went to his room to kill him.

Because he killed my husband.

Except it wasn't his room.

Without my spectacles,
I'm afraid it was Mr Smith-Jones

who had an unexpected visitor and...

(Scream)

...then courage failed me.

But the gods still smiled.

He is dead.

How did you know it was the captain
who killed your husband?

Arthur's final letter said he'd discovered

the location of a Zekhen tomb,

but needed help to prove it.

And he'd found the very man.

The museum still had some of his things.

This amongst them.

Arthur and Trevelyan.

But who's the woman?

Arthur's sister.

Violet.

Violet?

She was so upset and...

considering her condition...

- Her condition?
- Yes.

She was pregnant.

CHARLES: So we're in his room.
How do you want me?

Smiling.

Trevelyan was smiling.

It wasn't just a death grin.

Violet saw him right after he'd been killed.

Something made him smile.

Can I stop now? My face is killing me.

(Dripping)

The plumbing in this place! I...

...hate dripping taps!

You're so very beautiful.

(Dripping continues)

There's something... up here.

KIRKWOOD: Dr Burt?

Dr Burt!

ZIMMERMAN: Doc! Doc, where are you?

Doc!

Dr Burt?

Doc! Burt!

Doc, where are you?

- Doc!
- Pearson!

Doc!

- You evil son of a...
- No!

I only wish they could hang you twice over.

No! No!

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. No!

No! No!

No!

- It's horrible.
- I know. I know.

Look, Burt must have seen Jim
go into Trevelyan's room to kill him,

then last night he went down to the kitchen
to blackmail him over it.

I suppose with the drink and a handy weapon...

I always knew that Jim's temper
would somehow...

Darling! I'm innocent! I'm innocent!

Get your hands off me! Darling!
Get your filthy hands off me!

I'm innocent! Darling, do something!

No!

Emily!

What am I going to do now?

Can you trust a reptile?

Yes.

Then you'll be fine.

Mr Kirkwood, my mother's not in her room
and her things are gone.

- Where is she?
- Plymouth police station.

She was picked up last night in her car.

She was running away with Archie Stone.

- Your chef?
- Not exactly.

Eh, Mr Kirkwood?

Not even roughly... Miss Willett.

Archie Stone... is my cousin.

His real name's Harold Wells. No.46329.

Frequent guest of Her Majesty
at Dartmoor Prison.

He and your mother...
met when he was last outside, and er...

...couldn't keep their hands off each other.

So to speak.

They got me to buy this place
a year ago so that...

...so that their hearts could beat as one again.

Excuse me.

Mr Kirkwood and Mrs Willett
have been charged with aiding and abetting.

Her so-called bird-watching trips on Dartmoor

were actually a cover
for her visiting her lover in prison.

To plan his escape,

and so she could find a hiding place

for the change of clothes
she'd leave for him in her haversack.

So that's why Kirkwood dismissed the staff,

including the real chef, the real Archie Stone.

Yes. But Miss Percehouse saw him
briefly in the kitchen,

so Mr Kirkwood stole her spectacles

just in case she glimpsed the impostor.

- Pretty ingenious plan.
- Not nearly as ingenious as the killer's.

I'd hardly call Jim Pearson ingenious.

- Wouldn't you?
EMILY: Well, no.

Nor would I.

But I don't believe Jim Pearson was the killer.

You put your finger on it, Mr Burnaby.

It was hardly ingenious
to chase the captain from London

and threaten him in front of witnesses.

All Violet heard was murmuring,
not drunken anger,

and someone coughing

as they lit a cigarette.

Jim's lighter was there,
but I think it was stolen to implicate him.

But all the lights went out after the Ouija cards.

- Someone could have taken it then.
- Do you think so?

And those boots up the chimney...

Emily and I have been racking our brains
over those, haven't we?

- Are they important?
- I believe so.

- How?
- I'll come to that.

He was... such a centre of attention that night,

Captain Trevelyan, wasn't he?

Zimmerman desperate for his signature,

Violet Willett about to spend
her wedding night with him,

- her mother hanging on every word.
- Mr Smith-Jones-Garfield snooping.

Jim terrified he was going to be disinherited.

Miss Percehouse nursing vengeance
in her bosom.

Not to mention your concern, Mr Enderby,

at the attempted poisoning
of your dearest comrade.

If Jim was innocent,
then I'm terribly sorry, Miss Marple,

I'm hopelessly confused.
Aren't you, darling?

Pretty much so, yes.

So did the scorpion... Egypt,

have anything to do with
why he was killed or not?

It had everything to do with it,

as I learned last night from Miss Percehouse.

It was in Egypt that Captain Trevelyan chose
a course of action

that would result in his death 25 years later.

But it wasn't the murder of Arthur Hopkins.

In a way, it was.

Hopkins had a sister.

Her name was Violet also.

And I believe Violet Willett

reminded the captain so very strongly
of Violet Hopkins

that he believed he'd been granted
a second chance of happiness.

A second chance?

What happened to Violet Hopkins?

Having killed her brother, the captain chose to...

abandon her and return to England

knowing she was pregnant with his child.

Her family disowned her
and threw her out on the street.

She died three years later, worn out by sickness

and poverty and the squalor...

...of a Cairo slum.

What happened to the child?

The child grew up
intelligent and resourceful, Emily.

Most ingenious.

But he carried inside him
a deep hatred of his father

and a burning desire for justice.

He?

That's why... he came to Sittaford House.

It was you, Charles.

It was you who broke into Clive's flat
and took a sheet of his paper

to forge that letter to James.

Not only did you plan to kill your own father,

but you were determined to implicate James,

who'd been handed your birthright.

How frustrating for you to find
the captain wasn't there when you arrived.

If it hadn't been for the attempted poisoning

and Mr Enderby setting off
through the snow to Exhampton...

But it took two hours to get to Exhampton.

We arrived together at about midnight.

The captain had only been dead
for no longer than an hour.

You would have noticed the skis

when you settled in your room here.

- Skis?
- Mm.

It might take two hours on foot
in the snow to Exhampton,

but with skis, it's downhill all the way.

Those boots were ski boots.

Before you so bravely decided
to accompany Mr Enderby,

you threw what you needed out of the window.

But neglected to close it in your haste.

Which later gave Emily and me
a rather disturbed night.

I'm pretty fit. I'll catch him up.

Of course you would.

After you'd killed the captain.

I am right, aren't I?

You retrieved the skis and the boots,

and once you'd put them on at the top of the hill,

you were ready for murder.

It must have been beautiful.

"All bloodless lay the untrodden snow."

Until you sped down to Exhampton.

Luck was with you
when you reached the Three Crowns.

Except Mr Burt saw you arrive
and would later try to blackmail you.

The cellar was unlocked.

Mr Kirkwood had left it open
for Harold Wells to get in

while everyone was at the Ouija session
which Mrs Willett had enthusiastically arranged.

You got in that way, then up to reception.

Identified which room was the captain's,

smudging the hotel register with coal dust
from the cellar in your haste...

...and went to murder him.

(Knock)

(Glass smashes)

Who are you?

It's a wise father that knows his own son.

I knew... one day.

(Grunts softly)

You lit a cigarette...

(Coughs)

Not a smoker yourself,
you couldn't help coughing.

... with Jim's lighter,
which you must have taken from him in London,

and placed the scorpion

as a finishing touch.

Then... you remembered the ski boots...

... your shoes.

You circled back behind Mr Enderby

as if you'djust caught him up...

... and then arrived with him at the hotel

to discover... a murder

you couldn't possibly have committed.

Last night, Mr Burt tried to blackmail you.

You agreed to pay him
and suggested meeting in the kitchen.

When he kept the rendezvous...

... you killed him...

in cold blood, so Jim Pearson
could be blamed for a second murder.

Pretending to be ajournalist

was such a clever way

of explaining your interest in the captain.

Where did you learn to lie so well?

Somewhere between Cairo and here.

Where did you learn to kill?

I was in the Legion.

The Foreign Legion.

Hmph!

There were nuns, Emily,

but not in West Norwood.

My father was the devil.

I had to confront him.

All the sins in the world were his.

And now he's gone,

and we can live again.

You understand.

I hope you hang.

Come on.

Buck up.

(Gunshot)

I shall change...

...and become a forgiving sort of chap.

And I'm 100% prepared to forgive you

for ever thinking that I could become a killer.

And...

I'm more than happy to take you up the aisle.

Jim! I... Well, I've made other plans.

We both have.
And they don't involve men, sadly.

Ready?

I'll send you a postcard from Buenos Aires.

Adios.

ENDERBY: He wasn't evil.

Not like Charles Burnaby.

Charles was never loved.

Except by his mother...

...so briefly.

Captain Trevelyan was adored.

Violet Hopkins, Violet Willett...

...and his friends.

Do you think he loved them?

I'm sure of it.

(Car approaches)

Sounds like your taxi, Miss Marple.

I'm er...

I'm pleased Violet wants you
to stay at Sittaford House.

Yes. Yes, she suggested I get a new bird.

But nothing could replace Harry.