All language subtitles for Poirot S08.01 Evil Under the Sun

"And the men of the city"

did as Jezebel
had sent unto them

and as it was written
in the letters

she had sent unto them.

They carried Naboth forth
out of the city,

and stoned him with stones

"that he died."

"And it came to pass
that Jezebel said to Ahab,"

'Arise, take possession
of the vineyard of Naboth

which he refused
to give to thee for money.

For Naboth is not alive,

but dead."'

Our reading today
was the story of Jezebel,

whose name has come to stand
for the wickedness of women.

The painted Jezebel
of 2 Kings, chapter 9...

A woman who was shallow
and profane.

It was she who persuaded
her husband, Ahab,

to kill Naboth,

and for this she was punished.

Was she the girl
who found the body?

VICAR: And of Jezebel
also spoke the Lord, saying:

"The dogs shall eat Jezebel
by the wall of Jezreel."

She had sold herself
to work evil

in the sight of the Lord,

and the punishment was death.

This is the God
of the Old Testament.

Wrathful, unforgiving...

We may find this at odds

with our understanding
of Christianity.

But for the Jezebels
of this world,

death is the price
that must be paid.

The body of Alice Corrigan

was discovered at the site
known as Blackridge Woods

at exactly 10:15 A.M.
by Miss Jane Martindale,

who was on a cycling holiday
in the area,

and who made a note
of the time.

It was her opinion
that the woman had been dead

only a short while...

a view shared by the police
surgeon who examined the body

where it had been found
at half past 11:00.

We have several witnesses
who have attested

that the dead woman's fiancé,

Mr. Edward Deverill,

was on the train from London,

and this didn't
arrive until 10:20.

This inquest therefore
returns a verdict of murder

by person or persons unknown.

You look very smart,
Mr. Poirot.

You think so, Miss Lemon?

It is true.

But for the grand dinner
of Captain Hastings,

it is necessary to make
the impression, n'est-ce pas?

The opening night of his
new Argentinean restaurant!

It will be a new experience,
this cuisine of the Argentine.

I didn't know the Argentine
had a cuisine.

Miss Lemon, are you sure you
will not be able to join us?

I'm way behind with
my filing, Mr. Poirot.

I'm sure you'll have
a good time without me.

Uh...

Something wrong, Mr. Poirot?

Yes.
What do you think, Miss Lemon?

This jacket seems to have
shrunk a little, no?

Here and here.

I hardly think so.

Maybe you've put
on a little weight.

I... No.

No, no, Miss Lemon.

That is not possible.

Remind me, if you please, to
speak to my cleaners tomorrow.

You have called for the taxi?

It's outside.

Bon.

So, to...

El Ranchero.

Very kind of you to invite me,
Captain Hastings.

On the contrary,
Chief Inspector,

it's very good of you to come.

This is a new venture for me,
and to be honest,

I need all the reassurance
I can get.

You have invested a great deal

of your capital in
this restaurant, Hastings?

A fair amount, yes.

Which is why it means a lot
to me that you're here

on opening night, Poirot.

Having celebrity never hurts.

Ah... But I believe I'm not

the only celebrated person
here tonight, Hastings.

Oh, indeed, no.
You see that girl there?

That's Arlena Stuart.

Oh, the actress?

Yes. Stunning, isn't she?

That's just the sort of glamour
a place like this needs.

And the man who is with her,
Hastings?

Kenneth Marshall.
He's her husband.

Do you mind if I cut in?

Nathan, darling!

You promised me a dance, right?

You don't mind, do you?

Well, as a matter of fact...

Oh, don't be such
a stick-in-the-mud, Kenneth.

Nathan's about
to go back to America.

I won't be able to see him
for months.

Well, if you insist, darling.

Order me some champagne.

Arlena, we need to talk.

What about?

I want the money.

She is, indeed,
most beautiful, Hastings.

But for a woman

to treat her husband
in such a way and in public...

JAPP: If looks could kill, eh?

Your brain never stops working,

does it, Poirot?

Ah.

- Well, bon appetit.
- Merci.

Mais c'est delicieux!

My felicitations, Hastings.

This is the most excellent soup.

Are you familiar

with Argentinean wine,
Chief Inspector?

No, no, I can't say I am,
Captain Hastings.

I wasn't either.
It's an acquired taste.

But actually I think it travels
rather well, don't you?

It is a little warm,
n'est-ce pas?

Oh, I'm all right.

Have another glass of wine.

Merci.

Chief Inspector?

Thank you.

Now, I must tell you,
Chief Inspector,

about the case
which is most interesting.

Are you all right, Poirot?

Yes, I...

No, I feel...

Poirot!

Someone, call an ambulance!

Captain Hastings,
Chief Inspector!

Is he all right?

Yes, he's fine.
He's resting now.

Is it serious?

Put it this way, Miss Lemon,

it's not going to be very easy
breaking it to Poirot.

Have you spoken to the doctor?

Yes, he's just left.

So, what did he say?

I demand, at once,
a second opinion!

I think we should wait, Poirot.

The doctor's taken some tests,

but it'll be a week
before he's certain.

But I am certain, Hastings.

Hercule Poirot,
he is not obese!

Medically obese, Mr. Poirot,
it's not quite the same.

It may have led to a problem

with your heart, which is what
caused the... you know?

Well, we should be grateful
it's nothing more serious.

MISS LEMON:
You can come home tomorrow.

But it's going
to mean plenty of rest,

light exercise,
and a strict diet.

"Hoping you'll soon
be back on your feet."

Oh?

From everyone at the Forensic
Department, Scotland Yard.

Oh, here's one from
the Belgian Ambassador.

It seems that the whole
of London

knows what has occurred,
Hastings.

Oh, not more mail, Miss Lemon!

This is from the doctor.

I telephoned him this morning,
and he sent it round.

The Sandy Cove Hotel,
just off the south coast.

For the last couple of years,

it's been run
as a health resort.

It's highly recommended.

"A strict regime of diet
and exercise,

sunshine and the sea."

No, Miss Lemon.

This is not for Poirot.

Your doctor disagrees,
Mr. Poirot, and so do I.

We might have lost
you the other night, and...

Well, it doesn't even bear
thinking about it.

Doctor's orders.

I've booked you a room
for two weeks.

Oh, don't worry, Poirot,

I'm sure you'll enjoy it.

I'm sure you will, too,
Captain Hastings.

You're going as well.

What?

Well, you didn't expect
Mr. Poirot to go on his own!

Let's see... it's
two pounds and nine pence.

Hastings,
the hotel, it is on an island.

Well, don't worry, Poirot, you
won't have to go on a boat.

There's... that to carry
you over the causeway.

All aboard, please!

We leave in a minute!

- Hello.
- Hello.

Are you on board for
the island of the lost souls?

Oh, Patrick, I don't think it's
going to be as bad as all that.

I'm Patrick Redfern.
My wife, Christine.

Madame.

Hercule Poirot.

This is my associate,
Captain Hastings.

How do you do?

Hercule Poirot?
The famous detective?

Oui.

Well, that will certainly
liven things up.

Here we go.

CHRISTINE: You're not here
on business, Mr. Poirot?

No, I come on the recommendation
of my doctor.

We all need a rest
from time to time.

Nothing like a bit of sun
and sea air.

I have to be careful
of the sun.

I burn up in a minute.

I say, Poirot.
There's Arlena Stuart!

Do you remember? El Ranchero?

That was an evening, Hastings,
that I was trying to forget.

- Patrick? How could you?
- What?

That woman, Arlena Stuart!
She's staying here, isn't she?

I had no idea.

Don't lie to me!

It was your idea to come here,

and I wondered why,
and now I know.

Christine...

You knew she was going to be
here and you followed her!

No!

You know, sometimes
I don't understand you.

Darling...

Sometimes, you can be
so hurtful.

- Christine!
- Patrick, darling!

Was that Christine I just saw?

Yes, she just went in
to get out of the sun.

It's so wonderful to see you.

What a wonderful surprise.

It's wonderful to see you, too.

Oh, Mr. Poirot.

This is an old friend of mine,

well, new friend, I should say,
Arlena Stuart.

Madame.

We met at a cocktail party.

And it was love at first sight.
How long are you staying?

- A week.
- Thank goodness.

This place is nice enough,

but it's a rather stuffy crowd.

Arlena?

ARLENA:

You're late for tennis.

Actually, Kenneth,
I'm not playing.

Look who's just turned up.

- Redfern.
- How are you, Marshall?

You did say you'd play.
We've got Rosamund waiting.

Well, tell her
I've got a headache.

Come on, I'm going
to show you around.

But I haven't
even checked in yet.

Oh, you can do that later.
This way!

Why do you let her treat you
that way?

- Lionel...
- I hate her!

I wish you'd never married her!

Yes?

Uh, Hercule Poirot.
And Captain Hastings.

Oh, yes, Mr. Poirot.

Welcome to the Sandy Cove Hotel.

I hope you have a very happy
and a very healthy stay.

Merci, madame.

I had a letter
from your doctor,

and you'll be pleased to know
that I've worked out

a complete program
for your stay here.

We'll be combining
the natural goodness

of the sea and the sunshine

with our indoor swimming pool,
gymnasium,

heated oil therapy
and steam room,

brisk daily exercise,

and, of course, a strict diet.

William, show Mr. Poirot

and Captain Hastings
to their rooms, please.

Yes, Mrs. Castle.

Lunch will be served at 1:00.

You have a sea view, sir.

Most of the rooms
have a sea view.

It comes with being
on an island.

It is evident, yes.

If you need anything, there's
shops on the mainland.

A library, post office,
and a decent restaurant.

And if you get peckish
or anything,

you can always ask me
to run over.

Right, sir?

Thank you.

Hastings?

Oh.

Right.

Thank you, sir.

You're next-door.

Right.

PATRICK: Go for a swim just down
there, look.

Oh, yes, there's
a lovely spot...

I say, what a splendid view!

Yes, indeed, Hastings,
it is of great interest.

How are you feeling, Poirot?

Not too tired
after the journey?

Hastings, I am recovered.

I am not an invalid.

There's no need to act
like a mother chicken.

Hen.

Thank you, Hastings, ça va?

Absolutely.

Lunch!

Thank you.

Oh.

It is for the best,
you know, Poirot?

Peut-étre, mon ami.

Your health.

Here's to yours.

Waiter!

If you please, tell me
what is in my glass?

Nettle water.
Mrs. Castle swears by it.

Monsieur Poirot!

Oh, Mademoiselle...
Darnley, is it not?

How nice that you remember me.

- We met in. . Egypt.
- Egypt

I was on holiday.
You were solving a murder.

Comme toujours, mademoiselle.
Pardon.

You have not met my associate,
Captain Hastings.

How do you do?

Captain Hastings,
this is Mademoiselle Darnley,

a dressmaker
of the most renown.

Aw.

Will you please to join us,
Mademoiselle?

I'd be delighted. Thank you.

Merci.

I see they've got you
on punishment rations.

Uh.

You are here also
for the health, mademoiselle?

Partly.

Also, I decided to catch up
with an old friend,

Kenneth Marshall,

Have you met him?

We've seen him.

He and I were what you might
call "childhood sweethearts."

A long, long time ago.

Now we're just good friends.
He suggested I come down.

Do you know his wife?

His first wife, Linda.

A sweet girl.

She died a few years ago
of typhoid.

Very sad.

I'm afraid I'm not
so close to Arlena.

Thank you.

The second Madame Marshall.

I'm sorry?

Pardon, you were speaking

of Madame Arlena Marshall.

Yes, well... what can I say?

She treats him dreadfully.

And she's up to her eyes
in scandal.

I mean, that business
with Erskine,

for a start.

But this is a name
I do not know.

DARNLEY: Sir Roger Erskine.

Elderly, unattached,
very, very rich.

He's following her around town
like a puppy and then, suddenly,

dropped dead,
left her his entire fortune.

Oh.

So, Madame Marshall is a woman
of wealth in her own right?

Mm-hmm.

Maybe that's why Kenneth's
married her.

But I tell you this,
Mr. Poirot.

That woman is trouble.

You wait and see.

Don't splash me!

Marvelous view,
don't you think?

Yes, indeed.

Miss Brewster. Emily Brewster.

Mademoiselle.

And I know who you are.
You're Hercule Poirot.

Oui.

And you must be
Captain Hastings.

That's right.

Word's got around
that you were here.

Now, don't tell me.

There's been
a gruesome murder somewhere,

and you think there's
a homicidal maniac

lurking among the hotel guests!

No, no, mademoiselle.
I am here for my health.

How disappointing.

Of course, if you did
want to commit a murder,

this would be
the perfect place.

You believe so, mademoiselle?

EMILY: People away from home.

Everyone's got
a reason to be here.

But if you secretly wanted
to get close to someone

because you wanted
to finish them off,

this is where you'd come.

But tell me, mademoiselle,
who would be the target

of such an attack
here at the hotel?

Well, I don't know.

Arlena Stuart, perhaps?

I'd happily stick
a hat pin in her, or whatever.

But to come upon her
sunbathing on the beach, huh,

it's the best chance
I'd ever get.

But surely,
nobody could think of murder

in such a beautiful place?

No, no, no. No, Hastings.

It is romantic, yes.

It is peaceful.

The sun shines,
the sea, it is blue...

But you forget, mon ami,

there is evil everywhere
under the sun.

What? Even here?

Especially here.

It's interesting what
you're saying, Mr. Poirot.

It's almost a quotation

from Ecclesiastes.

"Yea, also the heart of the son
of man is full of evil,

and madness is at their hearts
while they live."

You are of the church,
Monsieur...?

Lane.

Stephen Lane.

I was.

But then I was ill.

My wife...

You see...

Well, it's a long story.

But that's why I'm here.

It's for my health.

Anyway...

you don't have to be
of the church

to recognize evil, Mr. Poirot.

I see it there.

I recognize it.

It's real.

Ah, this must be that
ladder down to Pixy Cove.

Comment?

Pixy Cove, it's what
they call this beach.

For me, Hastings, I call it
too steep and too dangerous.

Hastings, you see that boat
with the red sail?

Yes, I noticed it this morning.

It is a color
most strange, n'est-ce pas?

I hadn't really
thought about it.

I suppose the sails
ought to be white.

And for me also, it is a place

most strange to have moored.

Mr. Poirot?

Monsieur?

My name's Barry. Major Barry.

Major.

BARRY: I was outside just now,

and I couldn't
help noticing you.

I wondered what
you might be doing down here

at the Sandy Cove Hotel.

I am here like all the rest.

For my health.

Really?

Well, if you'll take a tip
from an old soldier,

I wouldn't have said this island
was the healthiest place to be,

at the moment.

Just a thought.

How very odd!

I have a great fear, Hastings.

What do you mean?

Well, the Major
who gives the warning...

the vicar who speaks of evil...

the husband who watches
as his wife deceives him.

The solving of the murder
is all too often

the work of Poirot, mon ami.

This time, the murder...

it is something
which I must try to prevent.

Hmm.

The steam cabinet
is widely used

throughout the Americas,
Mr. Poirot.

It purifies the skin,
and it is also recommended

as an aid to respiration

and the circulation
of the blood.

Well, for me, it is
a new experience, madame.

I'm sure you'll enjoy it.

Come, come, come,

there's nothing
to be afraid of.

What do you say, Mr. Blatt?

Come along, now.

Horace Blatt.

Forgive me
if I don't shake hands.

Hercule Poirot.

The famous sleuth, eh?

You down here on a job?

No, no.

BLATT:
It doesn't look like it.

Nice place, eh?

Not quite Deauville

or Nice,
of course, but... it does.

You are on holiday?

I spend quite
a bit of time here.

Sailing.

The best fun in the world,
if you ask me.

You've probably seen me,
bobbing around.

Oh, yes.

You have the boat
with the red sail?

That's me.

I use the hotel as a base.

It's convenient
for my business.

And what business is that,
Monsieur Blatt?

Oh... a bit of this,
a bit of that.

So, you're Hercule Poirot, eh?

The strange thing is,

I thought you were dead.

DARNLEY:
Why don't you divorce her?

KENNETH: You don't understand.

You don't love her.

It's got nothing
to do with it.

I married her.

Your own happiness
has got nothing to do it?

It's not a question
of my happiness.

So, you're too proud,
is that what it is?

What about Lionel?

What about him?

Don't you see
how unhappy he is?

Oh, I can look after Lionel.

I'm sure,

but don't you ever think
that for both your sakes

that you ought to
get rid of Arlena?

Do you mean, divorce her?

Of course.

Arlena's my wife,
and that's all there is to it.

"'Til death us do part."

Exactly.

I see.

Ah.

There you are, Poirot!
What can I get you?

Oh. Hastings, thank you,
that is most kind of you.

A little crême de cassis.

Crême de cassis.

I'm very sorry, sir,

not for you.

Comment?

No alcohol, sir.

Mrs. Castle's orders.

Oh, bad luck, Mr. Poirot.

There'll be dinner
in a minute.

Not that that's anything
to write home about.

Do come and sit over here,
Mr. Poirot.

Merci, Mademoiselle Brewster.

Merci.

I was just talking
about my trip round the island.

I climbed down to Pixy Cove.

- Did you find the cave?
- Damn!

Oh!

That was silly of me.

Uh, what cave?

Oh, I've heard it said that
there's a cave on Pixy Cove.

It's quite hard to find.

There's just a crack
in the rock at the opening,

and then it widens out.

And that's where you'll
find the buried treasure!

There's no such thing
as buried treasure.

That's what you get
in children's books.

Now, now, Lionel.

Whatever you say, Lionel, dear.

So...

who's for tennis,
tomorrow morning?

How about you, Mr. Poirot?

No, no, it is most kind
of you, mademoiselle.

But I think that the tennis,
it is not for me.

I'll play.

I mean, if there's
not too much sun.

How about you,
Captain Hastings?

Oh, yes.
I brought down my racket.

And I'll make up a four,

if it's not too early.

I have some typing to do
in the morning.

How about 12:00 midday?

That's fine.

That's dinner!

I'm starving.

It had better
not to be cabbage soup.

Mrs. Marshall, you have
a telephone call.

What? At this time?

Who could that be?

Roger or Charlie
or Dominic or Michael.

Could be anyone.

You go on without me.
I need to powder my nose.

After you, Miss Brewster.

Thank you.

Oh, I'm so hungry.

It must be all this sea air.

Hello?

Arlena, my dear.

Oh, hello.

Yes.

Well, it's a little bit
difficult at the moment.

Yes, of course.

Hello, Mr. Poirot.

Monsieur Redfern.

How was dinner?

It was... how shall I say?

Not substantial.

Well, that's true.

Merci.

Monsieur Redfern, may I ask you
what you do for your work?

I'm a journalist.

What, for the newspapers?

Yes, for the city pages.

I'm freelance.
Anything that pays.

So, you're not here,
I think, for your health.

No, I'm here to enjoy myself.

Christine's the one who
has to look after herself.

Oh, yes.

Madame Redfern.

You have a wife
most charming, monsieur.

And who, I think,
of you also is most fond.

I'm fond of her.

I'm glad to hear it.

Mr. Poirot, are you trying
to tell me something?

Only this, Monsieur Redfern.

I wonder why, if it is necessary
for you to conduct an affair,

here, on this island,
with Arlena Stuart,

you choose to do it before
the very eyes of your wife!

What?

Who've you been talking to,
Mr. Poirot?

Miss Darnley?
Or that Bible-bashing vicar?

Just because a woman
is good-looking,

everyone has to come down
on her like a sack of coals.

Monsieur Redfern, I try
only to prevent occurring events

of which I have great fear.

Well... maybe you should just
mind your own damn business.

Oh! Lionel!

Where've you been?

I went to the mainland.
To the library.

So I see.

I was thinking of going
over to Gull Cove

to do some sketching
before tennis.

Why don't you come with me?

- Um, well...
- Well, you can have a swim.

Come on, you don't want to be
skulking and reading all day.

All right.

I'll meet you here
in an hour from now. 10:30.

Thank you.

Ah. Good morning.

Did you have a good ride?

Fine, thank you.

I'm just off myself.
I have friends on the mainland.

Enjoy your day.

When do you leave again?

- A few minutes, sir.
- Good.

What?!

All right, Poirot?

Thank you, Hastings.

Is that not the boat
of Monsieur Blatt?

I think so.

It is strange, n'est ce-pas?

Today he has the boat
with a white sail.

Yes.

So, how are you feeling, Poirot?

You refer to my health,
Hastings?

Or to my feelings concerning
the events on this island

to which I am confined?

Well, both, really.

I'm going to have to phone
Miss Lemon today.

She wanted a daily report.

You may tell to her
that I am not sure.

Madame Stuart!

Do you depart
for a trip on the sea?

Mr. Poirot!
Captain Hastings! Hello!

Yes, I thought I'd take
a cruise round to Pixy Cove!

But please
don't tell anyone that!

Madame?

Well, everyone here
just has to follow me around.

And, for once,
I want to be alone.

Jamais.

That, I do not believe.

You think she's going
to meet someone?

It is possible, yes.

Oh, excuse me, sir.

Oh. Do you mind
coming back later?

I've some
important work to do.

Leave the door open.

It's a bit stuffy in here.

- Are you ready?
- Yes.

Let's go then.

Mr. Poirot!

Oh, Mademoiselle Brewster.

Something very strange
just happened.

What is that, mademoiselle?

Well, I just got back
from my bike ride...

quick five miles up
and down the coast...

would you believe it?

Someone took a pot shot
at me with a bottle!

A bottle?

I think it was a bottle, chucked
out of one of the windows.

Where did this take place,
mademoiselle?

On the steps
at the side of the hotel.

11:15.

- I'd better get changed.
- Comment?

I'm playing tennis at 12:00.
I'd better go and get ready.

Do you need anything, Poirot?

Non, merci. Merci, mon ami.

Morning.

Morning.
You haven't seen, uh...?

Sorry?

It doesn't matter.

Urn, I thought I'd go for a row
round the island.

I don't suppose you'd care
to come, Mr. Poirot?

Non, non, merci.
Absolument, non.

Poirot and the sea,
they are not compatible.

I'll come with you.

Mrs. Castle says that rowing
is very good

for building body tone.

You can have the oars, then.

How is it?

It's warm. You should come in.

I'm not really a big swimmer.

Do you have the time?

Hold on.

It's a quarter to.

Didn't you say you
had tennis at 12:00?

I'm going to have to run
and get changed.

Will you be all right
on your own?

I'll be fine, Mrs. Redfern.

Look, there's someone
on Pixy Cove.

Looks like Mrs. Marshall.

So it does.

We're not going
to land here, are we?

We've got plenty of time.

Just thought I'd say hello.

Arlena!

She's asleep.

I dunno.

Arlena?

Arlena!

You all right?

My God!

She's dead!

She's been strangled!

She's dead!

Are you sure?

There's no pulse.

She's not breathing.

We have to get the police.

You mustn't touch anything!

I know, but one of us has to
stay here with the body.

Who would do this?

Who would do this?!

I don't want to stay.

You wait here. I'll go.

Right.

There's a constable
at Leathercombe Bay.

No! Poirot! Fetch Mr. Poirot.

He'll know what to do.

I can't manage that ladder.

I'll go by boat.
The current's with me.

- I'll be back as soon as I can.
- But just go!

Mr. Marshall?

Kenneth.

I'm the first to arrive.

After me, yes.
Did you get it done?

What?

- Your typing.
- Oh, yes.

Ah.

Hastings.

Hastings, what time is it?

It's just coming up to 12:00.
Why?

Not late, am I?

No. Exactly on time.

Mr. Poirot! Mr. Poirot!

Mr. Poirot!

Hastings!
It is exactly as I feared.

What is it?

Thank goodness!

It is Arlena Stuart!

She's... dead.

Right, where's the body?

It's over there, sir.

Right. Where's the boat?

Strangled, that's for sure.

And a pretty powerful pair
of hands.

Must've been a man.

I am also of that opinion,
Chief Inspector.

Well, we're lucky,
in some ways.

This is a small island.

We know exactly
when the body was discovered,

and the time of death

could only have been about
10 or 20 minutes before.

It should be easy enough to
pinpoint where everyone was.

Where were you?

All right.

So, what kind of a woman was
she, then, this Arlena Stuart?

A very flirtatious one.

She was carrying on outrageously
with Patrick Redfern.

- He was the chap who found her.
- Yes.

You said she was married,
Poirot.

Did her husband
know what was going on?

Oh, yes, Chief Inspector.

It was most certain
that Mr. Kenneth Marshall

was aware of the behavior
of his wife.

Well, there's a motive
for you, if ever there was one.

Chief Inspector, voila'.

Spectacles.

A man's.

Or perhaps of a boy.

I'm sorry.
There's nothing I can do.

The hotel is closed,
the whole island is closed.

You're going to have to leave.

But we've only just arrived.

What's going on here, Sergeant?

These two men came over here
on that tractor thing, sir.

They say they're bird watchers.

We're regular visitors.
You have no right to stop us.

We have every right, sir.

I'm pursuing a murder
investigation,

and nobody enters or leaves
this island until I say so.

But we have...

Take them back
to the mainland, Sergeant.

Yes, sir. Come on.

What are you looking for,
Poirot?

Chief Inspector, the two
arrivals that we saw just now.

The bird watchers?

Yes. Did you notice something
about them that was strange?

No.

I did. They had no binoculars.

Très bien, Hastings.

You begin, at last, to learn.

Voilà.

You see?

Yes, a piece of broken glass.

Somebody threw a bottle
at Emily Brewster this morning.

From what would
you say has this come?

A medicine bottle?

And it contained some liquid
that was brown.

But it has no odor.

I'm so shocked.

I'm...
I don't know what to say.

Arlena...

It's unbelievable.

Who would want to kill her?

How long had you been married,
Mr. Marshall?

- Four years.
- Happily?

Yes.

If you please,
Monsieur Marshall,

what is your opinion
of Monsieur Redfern?

I have no opinion of him.

And yet his relationship
with your wife...

There was no relationship.

That's all just hotel gossip.
Nothing more!

When was the last time
you saw Mrs. Marshall?

After breakfast.

I looked into her room.

You had separate rooms?

Yes.

It was about 10:00.

She said she was
going down to the beach.

Oh, that's right.

We met her just after 10:00.

And what of your movements,
Monsieur Marshall?

I had some letters to write.

I stayed up here
typing 'til midday.

Then I went down
to play tennis.

That was when I heard the news.

One final question, if you
please, Monsieur Marshall.

Do you recognize these?

Yes, they're Lionel's.

Where did you get them?

It is of no matter.

Could you please

show us
to the room of your wife?

Well, there's not much here.

I don't think
you'll find anything

in any of those
bottles, Poirot.

But a bottle was propelled
from this hotel,

Chief Inspector.

Et oi, it could have
come from this room.

What makes you
so sure it was thrown?

Maybe it was just dropped.

I say! A telegram to Arlena.

From New York.
Dated three days ago.

Go on.

"Send the money now, or you will
lose a great deal. Nathan."

That's it.

Nathan, that rings
some sort of bell.

It was the name
of the young man

with whom she danced at...
your restaurant, Hastings?

- El Ranchero.
- Oui.

Sounds a bit threatening.

I wouldn't mind talking to him.

But if he's in America...

Well, for me, I prefer
to speak to Lionel Marshall.

You can't want
to ask me any questions.

I mean, I didn't have anything
to do with it.

I don't know anything.

Can you tell us
your movements this morning?

Yes. I had breakfast.

I went to the library.

On the mainland?

Yes.

I am revising for my exams.
Chemistry.

When I came back,
I bumped into Mrs. Redfern.

Well, she saw the book,
so she can vouch for me.

Hmm. Go on.

She invited me to go swim
with her at Gull Cove.

I swam until exactly 11:45.

How can you be so sure
of the time?

She asked me
and I looked at my watch.

I had another swim
and went back to the hotel.

There was a program
on the wireless,

and I thought I was
going to miss it,

but actually,
it was only 12:10

when I arrived.

Monsieur Lionel,

this is not easy
for you, I know, but...

if you please, could you
describe your feelings

for your stepmother?

She was all right.

You can think of no one

who would wish to kill her?

Any help

you can give us, Lionel.

Well... only Mrs. Redfern.

I mean, boy!

You only had to look at the way
her husband was all over Arlena.

I bet she'd
have wanted to kill her.

Not that she had it in her.

You mean, she isn't violent?

Yes.

Is that all?

Can I go now?

Pardon, one last question.

If you please, I believe
that these are yours?

Yes. They're
my old spectacles.

But your old spectacles?

Yes, I had to have
a new prescription,

but I keep those
for emergencies.

Where did you find them?

Oh, no, no, it is of no matter.

Thank you very much.

You may go now.

That's not a job
I particularly enjoy,

interviewing
a 17-year-old boy.

Yes.

But a boy with the hands
the size of a man.

Excusez-moi, mademoiselle.

Yes, sir?

You are aware, are you not, that
we are investigating the murder

this morning of Arlena Stuart?

Yes, sir.

It's a terrible business.

I still can't believe it.

And you are responsible

for the cleaning of the rooms
this morning?

Between and 10:00 and 12:00?

Yes, sir.

Mademoiselle, could
you tell to us whether

you heard or saw anything
out of the usual?

Not really, sir.

There was no one around,
apart from Mr. Marshall.

He was in his room.

Did you see him?

I did see him about 10:15.

That's when I went in
to make the beds.

I didn't see him
again after that.

So he could have
left the room.

No, sir, I heard him.
He was typing.

Mademoiselle, have you observed
in any of the rooms

a bottle which is now missing,

or which contains, perhaps,
something strange?

Well... Mrs. Marshall
has perfume bottles.

And Mr. Lane...

The vicar.

His bathroom's full of bottles.

Ah. Could you show
to us his bathroom?

Where is Lane?

Apparently, he's visiting
friends on the mainland.

Chief Inspector,

what is that liquid
that is brown?

Morphine.

Is there anything else, sir?

Non, merci, mademoiselle.

Unless, mademoiselle?

Unless there was something
that you observed

that was unexplained,
or curious.

Something that was different

from the other days.

Not that I can think of.

Actually, there was one thing.

But it can't be important,
though.

No, go on.

Well, just before 12:00,

I thought I heard someone
running a bath.

And it did strike me as odd,

someone having a bath
at that time.

Whose bath was it?

I couldn't tell you, sir.

Somewhere on this floor.

But it could have been anywhere.

If the bath was run
just before 12:00,

that's 20 minutes
after the body was discovered.

Exactement, Hastings.
It is strange, n'est-ce pas?

Broken bottles, running baths...
the trouble with you, Poirot,

is you always have to make
everything so complicated.

Madame Redfern.

Oh, Mr. Poirot,
I was waiting for you.

I suppose you want to know
my movements this morning.

S'il vous plait, madame.

If you would commence
from the moment you woke up.

I had breakfast.

- I met Lionel.
- Lionel Marshall.

He'd just come back
from the library.

That's right.

I suggested that he come
with me while I was sketching.

We stayed together
at Gull Cove

until exactly
a quarter to 12:00.

He had a watch
and he told me the time.

I then went back to the hotel,
got changed,

and arrived at the tennis courts
at 12:00 on the dot.

And that was when we heard.

And had you, at any time, seen
Arlena Stuart this morning?

No, I hadn't.
I didn't want to.

Were you surprised
at her death?

Surprised?

No.

I was shocked, but I wasn't
exactly surprised.

A woman of that sort is mixed up
in everything that's sordid.

Blackmail, jealousy,
violence...

What do you mean, blackmail?

Well, it was just
something I overheard.

What?

Last night, Miss Stuart

received a telephone call.

Oh, that's right.
It was just before dinner.

Well, I happened
to be passing,

and I overheard
what she was saying.

I suppose it was wrong of me
to eavesdrop.

No, no, please.

Someone was asking
her for money.

She said she couldn't
get any more.

She said she was going to tell
her husband everything.

Those were her very words.

But didn't you hear a name?

I mean,
was it a man or a woman?

I have no idea.

I didn't want to be seen,
especially by her,

so I hurried on in to dinner.

But it was blackmail,

I'm sure of it.

Blackmail!

That must tie in with
the telegram you found.

Nathan, the man in New York.

- So it might seem.
- But it doesn't make any sense.

Arlena didn't have
any money, did she?

Au contraire, Chief Inspector.

She was a woman of wealth
in her own right.

Oh, the Erskine scandal.
Sir Roger Erskine.

Apparently,
he left her a fortune.

Oh. it will be interesting
to know how much of it is left.

It will indeed,
Chief Inspector.

She must have a lawyer
or a bank manager.

I suppose we could
ask her husband.

No, no, no, Chief Inspector.

I think it better

that we do not inform
Monsieur Marshall of this.

Miss Lemon, she will make
the inquiries for me.

I must telephone
to her at once.

Yes, Mr. Poirot,
I'm still here.

How are you?

Oh, Mr. Poirot, it wasn't meant
to be a busman's holiday.

Very well.

Right.

I'll get on to it
first thing tomorrow.

In normal circumstances,
Miss Lemon,

the information
you're requesting

would be considered
confidential.

I quite understand,
Mr. Applegood.

However, I have
to say that the bank

was already gravely concerned
about Mrs. Marshall,

and, given the circumstances
of her death

and the fact that Mr. Poirot
was involved...

Six weeks ago, Mrs. Marshall
came to my office,

and instructed me to withdraw
a very large sum of money

from her account.

The money was to be paid
in bearer bonds.

Did she say what
the money was for?

I'm afraid not.

I did try to elicit from her
what her intentions were,

but she said it was
her own private business,

and I felt unable
to press her further.

How did she seem,
Mr. Applegood?

Was she nervous or afraid?

Neither.

She was... determined.

That would be the best word
to describe her.

I don't suppose
you can tell me

how much of her money
was involved?

I don't see that it makes
any difference now.

We're talking all of it.

Just about her entire fortune.

Mr. Redfern?

I'd wondered when you'd
be coming talk to me.

Are you the police?

Chief Inspector Japp.
Scotland Yard.

To be honest, sir, I find
it a little strange,

your carrying on like this
as if nothing had happened.

What else am I meant to do?

The whole thing's
so bloody horrible.

You're forgetting
I was the one who found her.

I am just trying to put
it out of my mind.

Mr. Redfern, did you anticipate

to find yesterday
Madame Marshall

on the beach at Pixy Cove?

No, as a matter of fact,

I was looking for her when
I met you on the terrace.

But I didn't know
where she'd gone.

Why were you
looking for her, sir?

Well, it's not easy
to explain.

Au contraire, Monsieur Redfern.

To explain,
I think, it is most simple.

You were in love
with Madame Marshall.

Not in love. Infatuated.

I hope you realize, sir, that
this "infatuation" of yours

could very well be the reason
for Mrs. Marshall's death.

What do you mean?

Well, if her husband
had caught wind of it...

What? He'd have strangled her?

Kenneth's not the sort.

What about your wife?

Christine had nothing
to do with it.

If she was going to kill anyone,
she probably would've killed me.

And anyway, it's impossible.

What makes you so sure of that,
monsieur?

Because I saw the body,
that's why.

And it had to be a man.

I saw what had been done
to her neck.

It was a man's hands.

You know it, and so do I.

But I only want
to go to the mainland

for a couple of hours,
just to clear my head.

I'm sorry, ma'am.

I'll take that from you.

What?! Mr. Poirot!

Is it really true that
no one can leave the island?

I'm afraid I'm keeping
everyone here

until I've completed
my investigations.

Mademoiselle Brewster,

there is something that
I do wish to ask you.

Oh, yes?

We spoke together
of Arlena Stuart

the day before her body,
it was discovered.

Yes, I was wondering when
you'd ask me about that.

And you said...

"I'd be happy to stick
a hat pin in her."

I wasn't being serious.

A year ago, I invested money
in a play... she was starring.

But after the first performance,
she just walked out.

So, you lost your investment.

All of it.

Of course, I was annoyed, but...

It was a stupid thing to say.
I really didn't mean it.

An unfortunate coincidence.

But I was nowhere near the beach
when it happened.

And Mr. Redfern

was with me when we found her.

It must have been a great shock
to you to discover the body.

It was horrible.

At first,
she didn't look dead.

She just looked
as if she was sunbathing.

But then you moved more close?

And I saw at once.

There was something unnatural
about the way she was lying.

Her arms...

And underneath her tan...

She had a lovely tan
before she even arrived here...

there was
a sort of paleness...

The paleness of death.

Yes.

I'll never forget it.

Monsieur Blatt.

Is the tractor leaving?

Because if it is,
I'm going home now.

I'm sorry, sir, no one
is to leave the island.

- What?
- They've just told me the same.

You can't stop me.

I'll take me own boat
if I have to.

I wouldn't try that
if I were you, sir.

Monsieur Blatt, I would be
interested to know

why it was your boat

was anchored close to the beach
at Pixy Cove

the day before
Arlena Stuart died.

It wasn't.

We both saw it.

Well...

maybe I went for a swim.

I don't remember
where I was, really.

I stopped and went for a swim.

How long do you propose

to keep us here?

As long as it takes.

I can't believe it!

A second time!

Why is it that
when you're around,

people seem to drop
like flies?

I met Mademoiselle Darnley
when I was in Egypt.

May I introduce Chief Inspector
Japp of Scotland Yard.

How do you do?

Let's get straight down to
brass tacks, Chief Inspector.

Please sit down.

Merci, mademoiselle.

I expect you want
to know my movements

at the time of the crime.

If you don't mind,
Miss Darnley.

I've written them down.
I thought it would save time.

Thank you.

"Breakfast at 9:00."

Left the hotel
at around half past.

Walked over to Sunny Ledge,

"arriving about 9:45."

Sunny Ledge?

It's on top of the cliffs.

You get a good view
of Pixy Cove.

You can see the whole beach,
the cave, everything.

And, before you ask me, yes,

I did see Arlena arrive
in that boat of hers.

But that's all I saw.

Hmm.

You returned
to the hotel at 10 to 12:00

and arrived
at the tennis court

10 minutes later.

Is that it?

I'm afraid so.

Mademoiselle Darnley,
a moment ago,

you mentioned the view of
the beach at Pixy Cove.

You remarked that
you could see the cave?

Yes, it's quite hard to make out
the entrance from there.

It's concealed.

But you can see it.

Yes.

So, this cave, it does,
indeed, exist.

Miss Brewster mentioned
it the other evening.

Of course, it exists.

It's over here.

Merci.

Oh, Hastings, this killer
could not have suffered as I do

from le ma! de mer.

- Sorry?
- The sickness of the sea.

Ah. He'd need
to be pretty fit, too.

It is true.

Down the ladder,

across the beach and back up
again in a hurry.

That narrows it down.

Whew. Mademoiselle?

That's the entrance there.

Right. You wait here,
Miss Darnley.

Oh.

It's a cave, all right.

Good Lord!

Well, there's nothing here.

Not to see, there is nothing,
Chief Inspector.

But to smell...

Seaweed?

Perfume.

Hastings, you recall that
in the bedroom of Arlena Stuart,

there was a bottle of perfume
that I smelled?

You mean, it's the same?

Oui.

There's some footprints.

Flat, no heel.

Canvas...
Beach shoes, or something.

To where do these footprints
lead, Chief Inspector?

Ah, it's a dead end.

Wait a minute!

Sandwiches?

I do not think so.

This is heroin.

That changes everything,
Poirot.

Drugs, that's what's
at the bottom of this.

Perhaps, Chief Inspector.

No doubt about it
if you ask me.

Why are we going
to the mainland, Poirot?

What's so important
to the case?

It is not important, Hastings.

It is vital.

Here you are, sir.

Voila', Hastings.

The little grey cells, they
are the army of Napoleon.

You mean they march
on their stomach?

For you, sir.

Thank you.

You had any thoughts
then, Poirot?

Oui, it is true,
Chief Inspector,

that the discovery of a large
quantity of heroin

close to the place where
Arlena Stuart was murdered

would indicate that this was
the motive for the crime.

You said you smelled

her perfume in the cave.

- Oui.
- Well, there you are, then.

She went into the cave,
stumbled on the heroin,

realized there was some sort
of drugs ring

operating on the island,
someone strangled her

to silence her.

No.
One question, Chief Inspector.

The cave, it is dark
and unpleasant, no?

Why did she enter?

Was she indeed
being blackmailed?

Also, what was in the bottle

that was thrown
at Mademoiselle Brewster?

And how did the spectacles

of Lionel Marshall come to be
at the bottom of the ladder?

And, yes, also I wonder

what was in the book
that he was reading.

It's good to see you
back on form, Poirot.

One helping

of spotted dick
and you'll probably solve it.

Lionel Marshall... a young man
staying on the island.

Let me have a look.

He borrowed a book
yesterday morning.

Ah.

Oh, yes,

of course, I remember now.

I thought it was
a rather strange choice,

but he said it was
for a homework project.

And the name of the book,
if you please, madame?

"Dangerous Chemicals
and Poisons."

- Oh.
- Excuse me.

Those two!
What are they still doing here?

Well, perhaps they're taking out
a book on bird watching.

It all begins to make sense.

What, you mean
Lionel Marshall?

Well, there was obviously
was no love lost

between him
and his stepmother.

You mean he was thinking
of poisoning her?

And in the end,
he used his bare hands.

But he is only 17.

Hastings,
is that not Monsieur Lane?

Well, it's been
a while since he saw him.

He wasn't at the hotel
last night.

That's a chemist shop.

And he had drugs
of some sort in his room.

Allons! Monsieur Lane!

Mr. Poirot!

You have heard about
the events on the island?

Yes.

Dreadful.

They were talking
about it in the shop.

Perhaps you'll return
now to the hotel?

Yes.

We'll come with you.

I was on the mainland all day.

I wasn't anywhere near her.

I couldn't have
had anything to do with it.

Why didn't you return here
last night, sir?

I was having dinner
with a friend...

the Bishop of Exmouth.

It was late, so he suggested
I stay the night.

And for what purpose
have you come here

to this island, Monsieur Lane?

I've told you.

I've been ill.

I needed a rest for my nerves.

And you're a vicar?

I was.

The church of Saint Mathew
at Blackridge, in Kent.

I had to leave.

Why was that?

There was a scandal.

My wife...

You see...

She left me.

She ran away with a member
of my congregation.

She was a wicked woman.

She should have been punished.

I've got a question for you,

if you don't mind, Mr. Lane.

Are you, by any chance,
taking some sort of drugs?

I have an opiate

prescribed by my doctor.

It's for my nerves.

But it's perfectly legal,
Chief Inspector.

I've done nothing wrong.

An opiate? I wonder.

Did you not remark,
Chief Inspector,

the village
of which he spoke...

Blackridge.

Blackridge?
Hey, wait a minute!

Alice Corrigan.

It was a murder unsolved,
n'est ce-pas?

About two years ago.

She was strangled, too.

You think there's a link?

Well, it's a bit
of a coincidence...

the reverend comes from a place
with an unsolved murder,

and now the same thing
happens here.

Well, perhaps someone should ask
a few more questions.

Yet another task for
the inimitable Miss Lemon.

Thank you.

Miss Lemon?

Chief Inspector.

Weston. Charles Weston.

Do come this way.

So, how is Mr. Poirot?

He was meant
to be having a rest.

I'd very much like to meet him.

Of course,
I've heard a lot about him.

There's the Church
of Saint Mathew.

This is where
the body was found.

Ugh. Strangled.

Yes.

She was found by a game's
mistress, Jane Martindale.

She was cycling in the area.

Must have rather spoiled
her holiday.

She reported it to us.

What can you tell me
about the dead girl?

Alice Corrigan.

She was 27.

Engaged to be married.

She was a wealthy woman
in own right.

We think that might
have been the motive.

You thought she'd been
killed by her fiance.

Edward Deverill.

Oh, yes.

He inherited everything.

But the body was discovered
at 10:15

in the middle
of the morning church service,

and he was on the London train
at the time.

Non-stop to Blackridge.

And we had a dozen witnesses

who saw him
get on and get off.

It couldn't have been him.

So, it was never solved.

And never will be.

Unless Mr. Poirot
has some new light

to shed on the matter.

I think you can expect plenty
of new light,

now Mr. Poirot is involved.

Chief Inspector?

Yes, sir?

I'm Major Barry
and I was wondering...

if I might have a word

with you.

About the murder?

Well, I was wondering
how long you expect

this investigation
of yours to continue?

Well, that's hard to say, sir.

I see.

Because I...

Never mind.

What was that?

I have no idea.

Are you ready, Captain Hastings?

Yes. Do you think this plan
of Poirot's is going to work?

I hope so.

He's telling them now.

So, when are you going
allow us off the island,

and let us go home, Mr. Poirot?

I have already asked
Chief Inspector Japp

to open up
this island once again.

Oh!

Really?

Oh, yes, Monsieur Blatt.

The new guests, they are now
permitted to arrive.

Good.

Well, I'm going,
if you don't mind.

I've had enough
of hanging around.

Have you worked it out yet?

This is a case most complicated,
Mademoiselle Brewster.

But,

you must have some idea?

Et bien, mademoiselle,
I am a man very simple.

I always incline to the belief
that the person

who is most obvious is the one
who committed the crime.

And in this case, there
is indicated very clearly...

one person.

Who?

But there is what
you might call the snag, huh?

Because it seems impossible

for this person to have
committed the crime.

So, Poirot was right.

As usual.

Come bird watching, have we?

Don't think we'll
find many birds

nesting in there, will you?

What do you want?

We haven't done anything wrong,
you know?

Oh, no?

I suppose that depends
on what's inside of that box

you've just taken.

And I think we all know
what that is, don't we?

All right. Get back!

Don't be daft!

You're not going to use that.

I've got men
all over this island.

You're lying!

Shoot them... shoot them both,

and let's get out of here!

I am a Chief Inspector
from Scotland Yard!

Put that gun down!

Do it!

Wait!

Ah!

Are you all right?

Damn you!

Don't let him get away!

Come on you, on your feet!

Stop him!

I'm with the Home Office.

Seconded to Scotland Yard,

for drug inquiries.

What, you mean,
you're one of us?

Why didn't someone tell me?

Sorry about that... had
to keep it under wraps.

Hold on to him there!

I am sorry I tried to warn you
off the way I did, Mr. Poirot.

I've been watching
this place for months,

and I was afraid you were going
to blow the whole operation.

It is of no matter, Major Barry.

Anyway, I've got them,
that's all that matters.

Your two "bird watchers."

Oh, they had a good thing
going for them down here.

The stuff coming in
from the continent.

But how did it get here?

Oh, that, Hastings,
is most simple.

What do you
think you're doing?!

You can't treat me like this!

This is an outrage!

Oh, the game,
it is over, Monsieur Blatt.

And there, Hastings,
is the answer to your question.

It is Monsieur Blatt who speaks
of Deauville and of Nice,

but chooses to sail here.

And, of course,

he wears the sailing shoes
made of canvas.

The footprints in the cave!

Oui, c'est ça.

The heroin, it is carried
from France with the red sail

which signals to the mainland
that it arrives.

And the white sail
is the "all clear."

Oui.

You have got it in one,
Mr. Poirot.

Oh, we've known about
this gang for some time.

We just couldn't pinpoint
the place of entry.

Take him away!

Go on.

Wait a minute, Poirot.

Are you seriously suggesting
that all this had nothing to do

with the death of Arlena Stuart?

So it would now appear.

But you said she went into the
cave, you smelled her perfume.

That is indeed what I thought,
Chief Inspector.

But then the question becomes,

why did Arlena Stuart
enter the cave?

Well, perhaps she was hiding
from someone.

Hastings, once again,
you arrive at an explanation

which makes everything clear!

Not to me, it doesn't.

You mean, she was afraid
of someone?

I mean, Hastings, that there
is evil on this island,

and the murder
that took place here

was the work of a mind
that was brilliant.

But there was one thing that
the killer did not expect...

the mind of Hercule Poirot.

Et bien, now is the time
for these two minds to meet

and the truth at last
must come to light.

I congratulate you,
Miss Lemon.

You have achieved
a great success.

So, you think that
the deaths of Arlena Stuart,

and this Alice Corrigan
are definitely linked?

Of that I am sure,
Chief Inspector.

Both women were young,
both strangled,

one with a fiancé,
the other a husband

who could not have possibly
committed the crime.

Edward Deverill
because he was on a train,

Kenneth Marshall because he was
typing letters in his room.

Oui, c'est ça.

Everyone's gathering

in the dining room, Poirot.

Bon.

The time, it has come.

So...

Let us go.

Mesdames and Messieurs,

we have all come here to this
hotel for the reasons

of health, exercise,
for the holiday...

and for murder.

I, myself, was here on account
of an illness,

but it was not my body
that was put to exercise, no,

it was the little grey cells.

How was this crime,
so seemingly impossible,

in fact, committed?

And who among us
is responsible

for the death
of Arlena Stuart?

Do you know?

Oui! Bien stir, mademoiselle.

Hercule Poirot, he knows all.

La pauvre Arlena.

To Monsieur Lane,

as he watched her swimming
on the beach,

she was the focus of evil, no?

Of evil under the sun.

You don't have
to be of the church

to recognize evil, Mr. Poirot.

I see it there.

I recognize it.

It's real.

But...

to my mind,

the evil was connected
with Arlena Stuart

in a different way.

I saw her first, last,
and all of the time,

as a victim,
eternal and predestined.

You mean, she was being
blackmailed.

Of that I am not
so sure, Chief Inspector.

But I heard
her on the telephone.

No, no, no, madame.

You heard only only one side
of the conversation.

Hastings, do you not recall
the telegram that we discovered

in the bedroom of Arlena Stuart?

Yes, it was from someone
called Nathan.

I say!

It's a telegram to Arlena
from New York.

Dated three days ago.

Go on.

"Send the money now or you will
lose a great deal. Nathan."

To the Chief Inspector Japp,
this man, Nathan,

seemed to be threatening her.

But to me, he wrote simply
a statement of fact.

What do you mean?

He was an American,
Chief Inspector,

speaking of a great deal,

a great business deal.

Now, it is my belief
that he wanted

the money of Arlena Stuart

simply to invest.

You mean he wasn't
blackmailing her?

We saw them once, Hastings.

They were together dancing.

Yet, you will not dance
with a man

who threatens to destroy
your life.

Nathan Lloyd?

Hmm, Monsieur Marshall?

You're right.

He's a New York stockbroker,

although
not a very reputable one.

Oui, c'est ça.

So, this was simply
a case of man who was young,

who was, how do you say,

opportunistic, who saw
Arlena Stuart

exactly for what she was...

a target,

and a very easy one.

Well, she had inherited all that
money from Sir Roger Erskine.

And now it's all gone,
every penny of it.

That's what
her bank manager told me.

So, are you saying, she sent it
all to this chap in New York?

No, I say that

this was the weakness
in her that was fatal.

That she was attracted
always to men

who took
of her only the advantage.

We were happy together!

Monsieur Marshall, you are a man
most gallant, n'est-ce pas?

But for you, life with
her must have been a torture.

Also, I believe, for your son.

I didn't like her, but I never
made any secret of it.

No, it was also your spectacles
that were discovered

beside the ladder at Pixy Cove.

At the time of her death,
you were alone.

I was swimming
with Mrs. Redfern!

At a quarter to 12:00, yes.

We have only your word for it
that that was indeed the time.

Madame Redfern
could not see the watch.

Suppose it was only 11:30, hmm?

That would have given you
sufficient time,

after she had departed
for her tennis, to run

- to the ladder, climb down...
- No!

Leave him alone, damn you!
He's only a boy!

And you have no alibi for the
time that your wife was killed!

I told you, I was typing.

You were heard to type, yes,
but you were never seen!

From the very start,
it was my belief

that one person alone

must be responsible
for this crime.

And each person here
in this room

wished the death
of Arlena Stuart.

I didn't!

Yes, you did...
she was the person

who stood between you
and Monsieur Marshall.

The son also,
who studies poisons,

wished to see his father
set free.

I never went near her!

Mademoiselle Brewster

lost a great deal of money
because of her, and you,

Madame Redfern, believed
you were in danger

of losing your husband.

Yes, but I didn't.
I mean, I couldn't!

I had no reason to kill her.

Oh. Monsieur Lane...

To you, she was a woman of evil,
just as your wife.

And you also wished
to see her punished.

No!

So, who was it then, Poirot?

It was the person
who she went to meet that day

on the beach at Pixy Cove.

I thought I'd take a cruise
round to Pixy Cove.

But please,
don't tell anyone that.

Madame?

Well, everyone here
just has to follow me around.

And for once,
I want to be alone.

Both Hastings
and I saw quite clearly...

She was on her way
to an assignation.

Oui.

And an assignation with you...

Monsieur Redfern.

No!

Oh, yes.

I knew you for what you were

from the moment
I first saw you...

a wastrel, cheating
and defrauding women of wealth.

Like Nathan Lloyd
and all the other young men

who were drawn to her...

she was your prey!

To hell with you!
You've got it all wrong!

It can't be Redfern... he was
the one who discovered her.

Seemingly so, yes,
Chief Inspector.

But what if the the body
that was discovered

by Monsieur Redfern
on the beach, that day,

was not, in fact,
Arlena Stuart?

Oh, but it was, Mr. Poirot.

I saw her myself.

No, Mademoiselle Brewster, you
saw what you were meant to see.

And I will tell

to you all how it was... a crime
of the most ingenious.

At 9:30, Christine Redfern
makes the arrangement

to go swimming
with Lionel Marshall.

- Where have you been?
- I went to the mainland.

She sees the book.

So I see.

She knows of his dislike
of his stepmother,

and it is not hard to see what
is going on in his mind.

Why don't you come with me?
You could have a swim.

And that was a bonus
that was unexpected.

All right.

I'll meet you here
in an hour from now.

10:30.

So, now the plan
that was pre-prepared

is now set into motion,

and the timing,
it must be precise.

First, Madame Redfern
returns to her room

and applies to her skin,
that is pale,

some makeup which is dark.

She will now appear
to have the suntan.

First, she must dispose
of the evidences,

which will be lost
in the undergrowth

outside of the hotel.

But it was a mistake
to throw the bottle

out of the window,

because there
happens to be walking

close to the hotel
at that time

Mademoiselle Brewster,
who sees the bottle fall.

It was a remnant of this bottle
that I found,

containing some liquid
that was brown.

You see?

But now Christine Redfern

can keep her appointment
with Lionel Marshall.

She leaves the hotel

wearing the beach clothes
that are very loose-fitting

and which completely cover
the make-up she has put on.

- Morning.
- Good morning.

- Have you seen...?
- I'm sorry?

It doesn't matter.

At the same time,
Monsieur Patrick Redfern

suggests to me that he does not
know the whereabouts

of Arlena Stuart.

And so to Gull Cove.

While Lionel Marshall
swims in the sea,

it is simple for
Madame Redfern

to steal his spectacles,

and to alter the time
on his watch.

- How is it?
- It's warm.

Do you have the time?

It's a quarter to.

But is was not quarter to 12:00.
No.

It was no more than
half past 11:00.

You told me so, no?

You thought you would be late
for a program

that you wished to hear
on the wireless.

That's right.

But, in fact, it was
only a little after 12:00

when I got back.

So now Madame Redfern,
she has much to do,

and has gained herself
additional time

with which to do it.

First,

she returns the watch
to the time that is correct.

This is unlikely to be noticed

by Lionel Marshall,
which is indeed the case.

Then, she runs across
the island to Pixy Cove,

which, of course,

requires great speed
and stamina.

Hastings, you will recall

that she told to us
of her former occupation.

- Oh, she said she was a teacher.
- Oui.

But what if she was a teacher
of the physical education?

Someone for whom such exercise
and exertion would be easy?

She arrives at the ladder
above Pixy Cove.

Patrick?

Are you there?!

And is careful to ensure
that Arlena Stuart sees her.

However, Arlena had made

a secret rendezvous
with Patrick Redfern,

and his wife is the last person
she wishes to see.

But Arlena Stuart

and Patrick Redfern,
they have made a plan.

If Madame Redfern
should happen to appear,

she would hide in the cave.

The mouth of this cave,
it is very narrow.

It has no view of the entrance
to the cove,

or that part of the beach

where Madame Redfern
is changing,

hidden by the rocks.

And so everything is prepared
for the next stage of the plan.

The timing,
it has to be perfect.

Patrick Redfern has already
begun his tour of the island

with Mademoiselle Brewster.

Look, there's someone
on Pixy Cove.

Looks like Mrs. Marshall.

And so to the discovery
of the body.

With a hair that is false,
the Chinese hat,

and the make-up that is brown,

she will resemble
very much Arlena Stuart.

She's dead!
She's been strangled!

She's dead!

Are you sure?

Well...

There's no pulse.

She's not breathing.

We have to get the police.

You mustn't touch anything.

Oh, no, no, no.

But one of us has to stay here
with the body.

He chose you,
Mademoiselle Brewster,

to go with him in the boat
because he knew that,

like the rest of us, you would
not wish to climb the ladder.

It was essential

that you should
return in the boat.

But I could have sworn
it was her.

I really thought it was Arlena!

Yes. But even so, it was you
who told to me later

that you detected a certain
paleness beneath the tan.

It was
because the tan was fake!

Oui.

And you departed with great
haste to find help, huh,

leaving as you thought

Patrick Redfern
alone with the body.

She's gone.

As soon as you were
out of sight,

Monsieur and Madame Redfern
were able to put into action

the next part of their plan.

Christine Redfern
now returns to the ladder.

She drops there the spectacles

that she has stolen
from Lionel Marshall.

She knows that he has been
contemplating murder,

and that he will be implicated.

Et bien,

to the rest of the world,
Arlena Stuart is already dead,

and both Monsieur
and Madame Redfern

have the alibis that
are beyond dispute.

But for Arlena Stuart,
her death,

it is still to come.

Arlena?

Darling?

I'm here.

Has she gone?
Christine was here.

I did what you told me
and hid in the cave.

Forget Christine now.

The beautiful Arlena.

She was an actress
most accomplished,

but a woman most susceptible.

Men preyed
on her for her money.

Men like the American,

Mr. Nathan Lloyd, but it was
Monsieur Patrick Redfern

who tempted her most of all.

Who better to suggest a scheme
of investment for her money

than a journalist
who worked on the city pages

of the newspapers?

And so she gives to him
all of her money to invest.

But, of course, there was
no such scheme.

And from that moment,

her fate, it was sealed.

He takes the money,

and then he kills her.

Oui, c'est ça,
Chief Inspector.

And, from now, the rest,
it is very simple.

Christine Redfern
returns to the hotel.

With great haste, she takes
off her outer clothing,

And there now needs only
to be removed from her body

the make-up that is brown.

So, she must take a bath.

And it is this

that is heard by the maid
as she performs her duties.

It is now 12:00 midday.

And every single task
has now been accomplished.

And neither Monsieur
nor Madame Redfern

could possibly
have committed the murder.

Hello. I'm not late, am I?

- No, exactly on time.
- Mr. Poirot!

Mr. Poirot!

It's Arlena Stuart.

She's... dead.

Well,

that's the most devilish thing
I've ever heard.

Yes, Chief Inspector, it was
indeed unique, huh?

For the murder, it was committed
after the time of her death.

But this was not
the first occasion

that they had effected
such a scheme.

The Alice Corrigan affair.

Yes, Miss Lemon.

Another woman who was young,
murdered for her money.

But this time, by a fiancé

who could have not
possibly have been there.

And who was it that
discovered the body?

A game's mistress.

Absolument.

Again, a teacher
of the physical education.

At that time,

Christine Redfern called
herself Jane Martindale.

And it was she

who at a quarter past 10:00
discovered the body

that could not possibly
have been there.

The true killer, who called
himself Edward Deverill,

arrives on a London train
at only 20 past 10:00

and hurries to a meeting

that he has arranged
with his fiancée.

Again, the timing,

it has been parfait.

For Alice Corrigan
is strangled

after her body

has supposedly been found.

Strangled by you,
Monsieur Redfern!

My God!

Alors, Jane Martindale,
Edward Deverill,

Monsieur and Madame Redfern...

a couple who preyed on women
who were young and wealthy.

Mr. Lane,

I know that
you have not been well,

you have suffered
from the nerves most bad,

but perhaps,

the evil that you saw
that day on the beach,

it was the same evil
that you glimpsed

in a courtroom
two years before.

This inquest, therefore,

returns a verdict
of murder by person

or persons unknown.

Yes.

He looks different now.

But it was him.

Très bien,

Monsieur Poirot.

Monsieur.

You...

damned, interfering...

lousy little worm!

Patrick!

The face of evil,

it remains always the same.

So much

for your rest cure, Mr. Poirot.

Yes, perhaps you should
take up running, Poirot,

or how about tennis?

Obesity is today's
number one killer,

I'm told.

No, no, no, Hastings.

The diagnosis of the hospital
was at fault.

My tailor tells to me that
I am a fine figure of a man.

And you'd sooner believe
your tailor

than a medically
qualified doctor?

Mais certainement.

The remedies of my tailor

are painful
only to my bank account.

But, to celebrate the return
to health of Poirot,

may I suggest a little meal
together most convivial?

Oh, splendid.

We can all go to El Ranchero.

I'm afraid not,
Captain Hastings.

What?

I'm sorry, Poirot,
I know you didn't want me

to tell
Captain Hastings yet, but...

Tell me what?

Well, Poirot's little problem
was food poisoning.

I don't understand.

This was not the first case

associated with El Ranchero,
Hastings.

It was the 14th.

No!

The Ministry of Health
have closed it down.

What rot!

How do you know
about this, anyway?

I've asked the Yard
to post an armed guard

around the kitchen area.

What?!

Just while
they do some more tests.

But I've got a fortune
tied up in that place!

Come, come, come, Hastings,
what is done is done.

And what is underdone
is underdone.

Oh! No.

But to help you
with your losses,

I will treat us all to my
favorite little Belgian bistro

just around the corner.

And I am pleased to say
they have never been known

to serve I'eau d'ortie.

Load of what?

L'eau d'ortie, Chief Inspector.

The water of the nettle.

SubRip: HighCode