All language subtitles for Agatha_Christies_Poirot_S12E01_x265_720p_BluRay

- Good night, Annie.
- Good night Fi.

- Oh! Annie, will you be going to Bluebell tonight?
- No, not tonight, I'm tired.

- Early night.
- Oh! Wish it was early...

See you tomorrow!

Well, tonight is my lucky night, gentlemen.

Thank all for turning up with your pockets
full of donations,

for what, I can assure you, will be
a better cause.

I will raise you.

Let us see... what kind of folks
do we think you've got?

What kind of Dad will pay
your debts?

Leftenant Race.

Excuse me, chaps.

- You must come now.
- Fiona, darling, I can't.

I'm in the middle of.
It's a good night.

- It's her, Colin, she's taking something from the--
- 20 minutes,

and then you got me for a lifetime.
You won't be able to get rid of me.

- She's rolling it up in the--
- Fiona, listen,

20 minutes and we can celebrate.
Wait, just wait.

Well, where were we?

- Good night.
- Good night, ma'am.

Fiona!

Fiona, come here! Fiona!

Fiona, come here!

Fiona! Stop!

Come here.

- What're you doing?
- I saw you take the papers.

- Come back with me.
- Get away!

Stop! Please!

Stop!

* *

And so, madam,
may I ask you a question?

You may,
but I might not answer.

My mother taguht me it was rude

to answer a question
before six o'clock in the evening.

Specially from a Swedish gentleman,
Herr Hjerson.

But I'm Finnish.

I wish you would finish,
I'd like to go and get myself a drink.

Do you not think that the murder
of your husband...

- The lipstick.
- The scarlet lipstick on his collar,

- The Bible on his desk...
- The good samaritan.

opened on the page of
the good samaritan,

- The word "Revenge"...
- Revenge.

written with his blood on the blotter

...is littered with
what we call in Finnish: "puna silli".

Red herrings, madam.

Red herrings.

It looks very suspicious,
in my opinion.

It's the vicar.
Never trust a vicar.

Isn't she smart,
Ariadne Oliver.

I didn't think fiction
was your thing, Poirot.

Oh, par l'amour de Dieu.
It is my friend Colin.

- But it has been so long.
- Good evening, Sir.

How does your father,
my good old friend, coronel Race?

My old man's fine.

Enjoying his retirement.

Another whisky for my young friend,
s'il vous plait.

Thank you.

Ladies and gentlemen,
please take your seats.

- I need your help, sir.
- But of course.

I already had realised that
this meeting is not a coincidence.

I imagine that you sought me at my
apartament and George, mon valet,

told you where I could be found.

But, if I may,

you have the appearance of someone
who has traveled this evening a great distance.

Dover.

Can we talk after the final act?
I don't want to ruin your enjoymen with the play.

Oh! Non, non, non. For Poirot,
the play, it is over.

With my dear friend madame Oliver,
this puzzle it is not

so intricate.

Non, non. she's not in the same class as
par exemple, monsieur Garry Gregson.

- You are acquainted with his books?
- Of course.

So, let us find somewhere here to seat
and allow me to help you,mon ami.

There's a girl in Dover.

She works in one of those secretarial
bureaus, you know, typists place,

where you ring and hire
a typist for an hour or whatever you want.

And how does she call herself?

Sheila Webb.
Are you all right?

Ah, oui, oui.
Poirot, he listens.

Anyway, yesterday a very strange thing
happened to Sheila Webb.

Four and six. I only got them yesterday
and it snaps off like a twig in a storm.

Sheila, have a look at this. Four and six,
from Jolly's, I only strut off to lunch,

and the heel snaps out in a grate
like a twig out in a storm.

Aren't you supposed to be typing up
mr. Lavine's manuscrypt, Nora?

"Naked Love", yes.

Well, put your shoes away and get on with
"Naked Love"

Miss Webb, may we have a word?

"Desire had him in its grasp,

"and with frantic fingers, he tore the
fragile chiffon from her breasts

"and bent her over the soap..." What?

I've had a call from miss Pebmarsh.

She needs a stenographer for 3 o'clock.
She asked for you particularly.

Have you worked for her before?

I don't remember doin' it,
miss Martindale.

- 19 Wilbraham Crescent.
- I can't remember going there.

Well, it's you she asked.
For three.

Have you any other appointments?

Ah, yes, professor Purdy, at 5,
at the Castle Hotel.

Cavendish Secretarials Services,
one moment please.

Sheila, miss Pebmarsh said
if she's not there,

the door is not latched.
You're to let yourself in and wait.

So Sheila goes.
And she really doesn't recognize the place.

Wilbraham Crescent
is one of those quiet streets

away from the sea front where
everyone keeps themselves to themselves.

Hello?

Miss Pebmarsh?

Sheila Webb here,
from Cavendish.

Miss Pebmarsh, if it's all right
I'm gonna seat in the front room.

Is somebody here?

Is somebody in my house?

There's somebody in this room.
Who are you?

No, don't step on him, he's dead!
You're gonna step on him!

Who are you?

- Please, help me!
- What is it?

He's in there, he's dead,
he's dead, and...

- He's just lying there, stabbed on the floor.
- Who's been stabbed?

- There!
- Someone's dead in there?

- Yes, please help me.
- I will, I will help.

Are you saying there is
a man dead in number 19?

- Yes.
- All right.

- Let's go in.
- No, no, no.

Look, then let me go
and I'll call the Police.

- She's in there too .
- Who?

Miss Pebmarsh.

Right. Well, let's seat down and...
...breathe.

- Stay here. I will help you.
- Yes.

Miss Pebmarsh?

Who are you?

I'm Leftenent Race.
I was passing by.

There's a dead man
behind my sofá.

- And how did this happen?
- I don't know.

- Who is he?
- I don't know.

I live alone.
I came home from work,

There was an hysteric on the house.
She left screaming.

And I found a dead man
behind the couch.

You're very calm.

When you saw what I saw in the
Great War, Leftenent Race,

you know a dead man is not something
to be scared of.

If you will invite the young
hysteric in,

I'll make her a cup of sweet tea.

- I will call the Police.
- Very good.

« Who was this dead man?

« It's much stranger than that, Poirot.

Was he known from
mademoiselle Sheila Webb?

Apparently not.

No, I've never seen him before, Inspector.

You're positive about that?

Miss Martindale said to come here
at three and let myself in.

I then noticed the clocks and thought
I might have caught the wrong time.

and then, just before Miss Pebmarsh
arrived I noticed the man lying there.

You worked for Miss Pebmarsh before?

No, and that's the thing, sir.

She asked for me specially.
I don't know how she knew about me.

Sir, we can't find the murder weapon.
There's no knife.

He's mr. RH Curry.
Metropolitan and Provicial Insurance.

I don't know him.

Stay here.

I've never heard the name Curry
or the name of his firm.

- Were you expecting any visitor today?
- No.

And I've never seen this man before.

Take him away.

Just the typist you ordered.

I didn't order a typist.
What are you talking about?

You didn't ring up the Cavendish Bureau
at lunch time today

and asked for the services
of Sheila Webb?

Certainly not.
And I've never heard of a Sheila Webb.

Where were you at lunch time?

I work part-time at mr. Wright's
photography studio on the parade.

Taking bookings, seeing people in.

Lunch time can be quite busy.

And you did not ring the Cavendish bureau?

No, young man, I did not. I did my shift.
And returned home as usual just after three.

I know I wasn't late because I heard
my cuckoo clock as I approached the door.

What about your other clocks?
Why are they all set to 15 minutes past four?

What "other clocks"?

Your four other clocks in the sitting room.

There are no four other clocks in my sitting room.
Just my cuckoo clock.

And Mademoiselle Pebmarsh,
does she always keep unlocked her door?

- You're thinking, I imagine, of her neighbors?
- Oui.

They saw nothing. On one side there's
a cat lady

who literally could speak of nothing else.

A Tiddly-pops likes chicken,

Copenhagen loves his kittens,
don't you Copey?

On the other side, a brother and sister,
academics.

They saw nothing at all, during lunch time.

At the back of the house,
there's no access at all.

And mademoiselle Martindale?

It wasn't miss Pebmarsh who called
and rang me?

- You yourself took the call?
- Yes,

at about a quarter to two.
And I put her in the book.

And those clocks, they definitely do not belong
to mademoiselle Pebmarsh?

That's what she says.

Eh bien. It is a puzzle.

But there is something else
that puzzles Poirot.

You.

Why was Colin Race at Wilbraham Crescent
at three o'clock yesterday afternoon?

And why do the Police permit that you
should ask questions during the interviews?

And why is it that your eyes are inflamed
with crying, my dear friend?

I have a comission in the Navy,

but, uh... I'm... I'm MI6.

Under Dover Castle, ever since
the Napoleonic Wars,

there's been a series of tunnels.

We're on the process of turning them
in a bomb-proof HQ, where

the Navy can police the channel
from width,

come the things turn into
a 2nd world war against Germany.

I've been trying to locate a
German mole amongst he staff.

Three nights ago I found it.

Annabel Larkin.

She was followed an she was killed,

along with the woman I loved.

Fiona Hanbury,

who died because I wasn't there.

Amongst Fiona's things
I found this.

A crescent,

the letter M and the number 61.

I think it's a note as to
where Fiona followed Larkin.

Where her contact was.
I checked out The Crescent pub

and there's a half dozen
Crescent roads in Dover.

And you were checking out the
Wilbraham Crescent

at the very instant when
Sheila Webb runs out of nr. 19?

Yes, I was checking again,

It was closest to the scene of
the accident.

And I may sound crazy, but I don't
believe it was a coincidence.

I believe the man dead
in Wilbraham Crescent

must be connected in some way
with Annabel Larkin.

Possible.

And I don't believe what the Police
is thinking that Sheila Webb is a murderer.

- I see.
- She's the main suspect.

She's the one who found the body,
she's the one they can place alone in the house.

And I saw how scared she was,
when she ran from the house.

Help me!

I know she's not a murderer.

I will help you.

And I won't let another girl down
because I was unable to help.

Good morning, Gentlemen.

Well, it seems this is
a time for co-operation

between the Navy and the Police,
don't you agree?

We need to flush out what remains
of this German cell in Dover.

Intelligence tells me it could well
be connected

with the murder of this Insurance Agent
in - where was it?- Wilbraham Crescent.

That hasn't been verified yet,
Admiral.

It's not Wilbraham Crescent?

No, that he was an Insurance Agent.

Inspector, may I introduce you
to Hércule Poirot,

who Leftenent Race has requested
be brought into this investigación.

But I think we can--

I verified with Whitehall
and Scotland Yard

and they tell me he's a detective
of excellent reputation

and we're lucky to have him onboard.

If that's what I have to work with,
that's what I'll work with.

Any ideas, mr. Poirot,
just "pop them on the pot".

Merci.

It seems to me, that if we solve one of
problems here, we'll solve the other.

- Monsieur, may I have a word?
- Admiral. Inspector.

I remember your days
from the Belgian Police Force, monsieur.

Or, at least, your reputation.

- When did you leave?
- After the Great War.

Yes.

Do you know what they called
this trench of the channel during the war?

- "Hellfire Corner".
- And it will be again.

Because there will be
a second war, Poirot.

And if Germany invades,
this is where they'll come.

What was stolen on the other night, were the plans
of all minefields between here and France.

It is essencial to have those plans recovered
before they leave these shores, monsieur.

If Hitler sees them,

then the front door of England
will be wide open.

You'll find us very organized here,
mr Poirot, very thorough.

Only last year we dealt with a
very suspicious deat of a taxi driver,

and Scotland Yard made a point
of admiring our attention to detail.

Evidence, as you see, is documented
in a system of my own devising.

Prime suspect has her own board

as does the victim.

Where we will build our detailed profile.

But for me, the key is
this diagram here

and the key to my investigation is

"Someone must have seen something."

Oh oui, c'est très bien ça.

As you can see,
from the unusual design of that street,

it is a crescent that
doubles back on itself, mr. Poirot.

All of them knew that miss Pebmarsh
followed a strict routine

and the house would be empty
at the middle of the day.

and who lives opposite mademoiselle
Pebmarsh, in the number 61?

Mr. and mrs. Bland.

A monsieur Bland?
Already that arouses my suspicions.

Oh no, no, no, he's a good man.

Built my mother-in-law a fireplace, actually .

I had London run a check on him
straight away, sir, he's as clean as a whistle.

And the murder weapon,
has it been recovered?

Er, no, no.

And there was no signal of a struggle
at the house of mademoiselle Pebmarsh?

Absolutely not.

Then I would like to interview
the neighbours today, if I may.

Already done.
Those are their statements.

Non, Poirot would like to ask
questions of his own..

Yes, already done.

No, I would like to ask questions
of my own, Inspector Hardcastle.

Of course you would. Of course.

And these are the clocks?

Yes, we're on the sniff to find out
when and where they were purchased.

Dresden china clock.

- A French thing...
- Ormolu.

And the silver carriage.

And where is the fourth clock?

There were only three clocks, sir.

Unless you count the cuckoo clock.

No, no, no besides the cuckoo,

there was a fourth clock, a traveling one.
And on it the name Rosemary.

That's right.

Don't tell me we've lost a clock,
for goodness sake!

When I booked the evidences, sir, there
were definitely only 3 clocks on that room.

But of course I remember
the Rosemary clock.

- Have the police lost it?
- Perhaps.

- Perhaps it was stolen.
- Why?

I do not know, mademoiselle.
I cannot think it would be of any value.

No, it was a shabby thing.
The Ormolu, that was pretty valuable.

Oui, oui.

Thank you.

Non, non, non.
Merci.

I'll have both, then.

Mademoiselle, Leftenant Race
has told to me the last few days

have been to you quite an ordeal.

Oh, yes.

It's not the shock
of seeing a dead man, I'm past it.

It's the terrible suspicion
the police have of me now. It's...

Did you see that board he had up Poirot?

He had nothing on it,
no evidence, nothing.

Have you told to the police the truth
in everything mademoiselle?

Of course sir

Entonces no debe preocuparse de nada.

I need to get back to work.

- And so should we.
- Will you be all right getting back Miss Webb?

Yes, I'll be fine. Thank you

Mademoiselle?

Do you know what
means the name Rosemary?

- No.
- It means "Remembrance".

Oh. Remembrance.

Good bye.

Au revoir.

Merci.

I saw and heard nothing
on the day of the murder

until I heard the girl scream.

Tiddly-pops was having
one of his turns, you see,

and I was singing to him to calm him down.

you seem a bit
agitated yourself, monsieur,

shall I sing to you?

Non, non, non, merci, Madame.

Tell to me if you please, do you have much
contact with Mdms Pebmarsh?

Oh no, no, she keeps herself to herself,

and does terribly well for a blindy.

I see her pass by the window

to and from the photographic studio,
regular as clockwork.

I think if she were a cat

she'd be one
of TS Eliot's practical cats don't you?

Oui.

Pardon, Madame, do you think
I might possibly see your garden

and so remove myself from here?

Oh, yes, yes.

Have you realised that
if you write TS Eliot backwards,

it spells toilets?

Well almost.

Copenhagen pointed that out
to me, didn't you, Copey?

The bane of our neighbourhood...
are the Mabbutts. Númber 62.

He has girls with catapults.

In fact I heard Miss Pebmarsh have
hard words with Mr Mabbutt

just the other evening
about their behaviour.

May I ask,

was there any connection between the murdered
man and Miss Pebmarsh, Lieutenant?

- I believe not.
- Oh, that's unusual too.

So he just
came there to be killed, did he?

Miss Pebmarsh is as quiet
as a church mouse,

- isn't she, Matthew?
- Yes.

We heard neither hide nor hair -

we told the other Inspector. I don't know
why we're being asked again.

She would have left her house
at eleven

on the day
of the murder and got back at three.

Yes, well that's her routine,
I'm sure everyone knows that.

And it is during that time that Ms Curry
would have entered the house,

and met his death.

Tell to me if you please,
before the girl screamed

did you hear perhaps any sound
of a struggle?

We don't know this man,

and our studies are at the back
of the house Leftenant.

We're academics you see...

And neither my brother nor I heard
anything at all during luncheon.

We like this street
because it's quiet also.

Yes the only trouble we've
had is that Mrs Hemmings.

The cat lady?

She might play the scatty
old dear, Leftenant,

but scratch the surface and she's
a poisonous old bitch believe me.

Rachel, we must get back to work.

Yes. Good day, Gentlemen.

- Good day Madame.
- Good day.

Well it's like
every other street in England.

Full of people who keep
themselves to themselves

while hating each other at the same time.

You should know we've had a, well I
was going to say breakthrough,

but actually it's the opposite.

The name Curry has turned out
to be bogus, and the Metropolitan

and Provincial Insurance Company
does not, and never has existed.

Was there anything else
found on the dead man?

Labels on his clothes, or a wallet?

All the labels were cut out.
We have no idea at all who he is.

This is most extraordinary.

Can I tag along with you for a while?

Someone will have seen
something, remember?

Yes, of course.

Eh bien,
now we go en arriere,

to the rear to
a Monsieur and Madame Bland.

I don't recognise him no, do you Joe?

No, I wish I did.

And we've never had anything
to do with the blind lady.

You read about these murders don't you,

Jack the Ripper,
"Brides In The Bath Smith",

and you think if only I'd been there

and seen something.

Stopped it in some way,
or if I couldn't stop it, at least

been useful to the police afterwards.

And now there's one in our
neighbourhood and we just didn't

look out the window at
the right time, did we Valerie?

Well you'll often find there's an
element of luck in police work.

Witnesses looking out of windows
at the right time and...

That's it, it's luck.
It's like falling in love,

it's just lucky that you were
there on that night,

and she was there, and it was luck
that bought you together.

And where is it that you met
your husband, Madame Bland?

Well she was an actress, weren't you?
I was quite low at the time,

and it just so happened that Valerie was
playing The Mikado in Dover weren't you?

And we'd always go to
the same pub after the show.

And I went there, just to get out
the house, and, well, luck struck.

C'est formidable.

Well this is all very lovely but, if we can
get back to the investigation,

why weren't you working
on the day of the murder?

Oh I'm almost retired now, Hardcastle.

I've still got the van just to keep my
hand in, but Valerie inherited, well...

A little bit of cash.

Well a lot actually,
from her Canadian family.

Pardon. You are from Canada, Madame?

Well I haven't lived there for, what is it?

Oh well it must be nearly twenty years.

Is it twenty?

And she lost her accent when
she went to drama school.

Ah.

And with the money I don't have to work.

That's a bit of luck.

Luck again, it's everywhere.

- Luck Struck.
- Luck struck you see.

Although it didn't strike
for this poor fellow.

It's a pity the Blands weren't
murdered, don't you think?

Or the entire neighbourhood.

That cat woman struggles for a reason
to exist, if you ask me.

Pebmarsh lives in a netherworld
all of her own.

And those Waterhouses are a bit too quiet,

a bit too hush-hush, if you know what I mean.

No, I don't know the deceased, sorry.

I do not know what you mean,
Monsieur Mabbutt.

I don't trust people who read
or write books, Monsieur Poirot.

Never have. It's folks like that who have
got the world into the mess it's in.

Were you here at lunchtime
on the day of the murder?

I was, which is unusual.
I'm often away in the week

and leave everything to the nanny,
my wife has passed on.

I work for Armstrong Ordnance.
We have contracts with the French,

I spend most weeks over there.

Your country is as badly prepared
for war as ours is, Poirot.

I'm Belgian. Not French.

- Are you now?
- Yes.

A Walloon. Well Belgium won't last
a week if it all goes belly up, will it?

Have you been visited by anyone
selling insurance in the last week?

I told your constable all this, no.

And I didn't hear sounds of a struggle
or somesuch either.

Can I show you some pictures
of some clocks?

I've left them inside,
will you accompany me?

What do I have to look at clocks for?

To see if you recognise them, sir,
they're central to the murder.

Very well. If I must.

I would get your contacts to investigate
that man, mon ami.

I'm on it. Yes, regular
trips to the continent,

he's normally exactly what we'd look for.

But he's helping arm the French,
he's hardly pro-German.

Put a letter M on the note of Mademoiselle
Fiona's it could be Mabbutt.

Mabbutt lives at number 62 Poirot, not 61.

Oui. That is true.

I'll check on the Bland's finances as well.

Make sure they got that windfall
the way they say they did,

and it's not been channeled
from some continental bank.

Yes.

Is that the garden of Mdms Pebmarsh?

Are you trying to work out
who killed that man?

Oui. Were you playing here on
the day that he died, mademoiselle?

Our nanny grounded us for two days.
Kept hitting the cats,

Ah!

So she kept us in
and we missed all the fun.

Alors, you
call yourself mademoiselle Jenny.

And how do you call yourself,
mademoiselle?

May.

And how do you call yourself?

Hercule Poirot.

That's not a name, it's a noise.

Alors, mademoiselle Jenny and
mademoiselle May will you help Poirot?

Merci.

I have been through this with
the police already Monsieur Poirot.

Oui mademoiselle.

And I did not make that call requesting
the services of Sheila Webb.

Have you ever used a secretary
from the Cavendish Bureau?

I may have lost my sight in
the last fifteen years, Monsieur,

but I have not lost my self-sufficiency.

Have you ever had any
dealings with the Bureau?

Well I know where it is on the parade,
I pass it every day.

And some of the secretaries
may have been in for portraits

with their sweethearts,
but apart from that...

Your Ms Wright is an artist most fine.

I believe he is, yes.

One of the clocks found in your house
has gone missing Miss Pebmarsh,

a small travelling clock with the word
"Rosemary" engraved on the...

If I may, Inspector.

Mademoiselle Pedmarsh would you
tell to me please your glaucoma

is it hereditary or brought on by the trauma?

I drove an ambulance in your neck of
the woods, during the war Monsieur,

and was temporarily blinded
by the blast of a shell.

I regained my sight, only for
it to gradually deteriorate.

- My sympathies.
- I don't seek sympathy, Monsieur.

Non.

Miss Martindale is this way Gentlemen,
but do watch your step

there's half-finished romances lying all over
the place in here, isn't there girls?

- Tomorrow's inquest Inspector...
- Yes.

How early would you recommend we get there?

Only we're all terribly excited and we
wouldn't want to end up with seats

at the back, would we Miss Martindale?

It's not a football match, Nora. An inquest
is a serious legal procedure.

Oh, I know. It's like a public hanging.

I'm sorry Gentlemen, please come in.

May I introduce Hercule Poirot.

All right.

Enchanté, madamoiselle. Merci.

I typed up a bodice ripper last
year, about a public hanging,

and it was so thrilling you wondered
why they ever put a stop to them.

Yes. Thank you, Nora.

Miss Martindale would you again go
over the events of the phone

call from someone purporting
to be Miss Pebmarsh.

Yes. Yes, I was sitting here when
the call came through.

I made a note in the book and then I...

Mademoiselle? If I may ask, did you
do the typing for Garry Gregson?

Yes. Yes, I was his private secretary.

I set up the bureau with the money
he left me after he died.

But I am a reader most admiring, mademoiselle.

I still manage his estate, all of his papers
are here, published and unpublished.

"Bachelors In Peril".

Certainly one of his best.

Oh, for goodness sake.

A puzzle most intriguing,
but it did not confuse Poirot.

"The Train At The Station"?

Ah, oui, the hair of the moustache
on the cocktail glass,

the three pairs of shoes size six, all
designed to throw one off the scent,

but not Hercule Poirot!...

Is there any chance we can get back
to the real police work here?

- How's your afternoon?
- Miserable.

Miss Martindale is as suspicious
of me as the policeman.

Has your funny little friend
found out who did it yet?

But if you ask me, Pebmarsh could easily be
lying about not making that phone call.

That's what I've been thinking.

The body was found in her house,
she could easily have pinched that clock,

whoever stole it must be
connected because it's...

What are you doing this evening?

Avoiding people.

Yep. Me too.

I've got to go back to the castle
but after would you,

do you want
to avoid meeting people together?

- Yes.
- Good.

"How did you become blind",
"where did you fall in love",

"what's your favourite
Garry Gregson novel",

what on earth have these got
to do with the investigation?

- Probably nothing.
- So why ask them?

- To gather information.
- What information?

Police work is facts, alibis,
evidence, not gossip!

How did any case get solved in Belgium,
while you were in charge?

Through the listening,
through observation.

And every case it was solved,
I can assure you. Mademoiselle.

It's been a long day, I'm sorry.
Can I give you a lift to your hotel.

Ah oui, merci, but is there a hotel that
you would recommend, Inspector?

Because I have not had the
time to make a reservation

and also I must telephone to George,
mon valet, for my valise.

Yes, I know a good one. The Travellers.
I'll stand you a drink.

- You coming?
- Can you drop me at the Castle?

Of course.
You're in for a treat, Mr Poirot.

We'll get a missing person's campaign out
on "Curry", pictures in the paper,

bobbies at the train station,
the whole works,

"Someone Will Have Seen Something"

Inspector, this bar, does it have
a menu for the cocktails?

That's the finest brew
on the South Coast, mate -

the key now, is to find the identity
of the murdered man.

Is this the best hotel in Dover?

Yeah, let's line a few more
of these up, shall we? Terry?

What are you laughing about?

Poirot. I left him at the "Travellers
Inn" looking like petit fours in a chip shop.

He's trying to keep it in,
but he's having forty fits

about the thought of having to stay there.

It's nice to see you laugh.

Will you tell me about
the girl who died. Fiona?

Fiona.

And then will you tell me about you?

Sir.

Hello, is that the Castle Hotel?
Bon.

I wonder, do you have available
for a few days, a suite?

Oui. Hercule Poirot.

Non, non, non, Hercule.

Oui. Poir... that will do.
Merci.

I'm telling you Mr Poirot, Sheila Webb
made that call to Martindale.

But there is no reason why she would.

There is no evidence, there is that,

but in my gut I think once we have
the evidence it will point to her.

But do you not think, as does
the Admiral Hamling,

that the murder is connected in some
way to the theft of documents?

Ah oui. Merci. À bientôt. Merci Monsieur.

No I don't, that's Navy talk, they think
everything's related to the "coming war".

There'll be no war.

But I think the man will have
a link to Sheila Webb.

She arranged to meet him
there, and killed him.

But with what motive, Inspector?

The clocks and the four-thirteen and
the Rosemary, will all come back to her.

I've seen girls like that before,
and they're manipulative,

and let us see how she does under
pressure, at the Inquest tomorrow.

I'm adopted. I have no-one.

I was adopted by an elderly couple,
who had no children of their own,

and, well, they're dead now.

It's at times like this I long to have
a family to go home to.

Do you have a sweetheart?

No.

- "damaged goods".
- I don't think so.

You talk of Fiona in a way I don't
think anyone has ever talked of me.

That's nice.

This is nice, Colin.

Ah.

What is it?

They've put cat muck on the mat again.

They're pigs these people.
They're pigs.

I'll get a dustpan and brush.

How do I look, is this too red, I don't want
to appear a dubious character.

The Inquest will be full of plain-clothed
detectives eyeing the faces

of the crowd surreptitiously
looking for give-away-signs,

at least that's what happened
in Garry Gregson's "Dusty Death",

- do you remember that, Miss Martindale?
- Thank you, Nora. Yes, I do.

That's how they caught the murderer.
Gave himself away with a nervous twitch.

Will you elbow me if I start twitching
involuntarily, Miss Martindale,

I'm worried about twitching involuntarily,
it used to be a habit of my mother's.

Have you polished my new brogues, Valerie?

HAVE YOU POLISHED MY BROGUES!!

Sorry. I do not want to miss
a word of this inquest.

- By the back door.
- Thank you.

I don't want to go, Joe.

Get your coat on.

Get it on.

Come on, girls!

Best seats in the house.

- Sheila. It'll be all right.
- Don't, don't.

What's wrong? It'll be fine.
They're very dry - inquests.

You just rattle the facts out.

This arrived for me this morning.

I received the call from a Miss Pebmarsh

at about a quarter to two,
during the lunch hour.

She was most particular in requesting

the services of my employee,
Miss Sheila Webb.

I made a note in the book,
and then I checked Miss Webb's

other appointments for that afternoon.

Well, I wasn't the one who made
the call to the Cavendish Bureau

I assure you, I merely arrived home
from work just after three o'clock

and found a young lady in my front room,
suffering from a fit of hysterics.

She ran out of the house, and then
I discovered the body behind the sofa.

I spent my lunch break alone

in the little cafe on the
corner of the parade,

and I must have got back
at about quarter past two,

then left immediately
for Wilbraham Orescent.

I entered the house, as instructed,

and noticed all the clocks in the sitting
room were, well they were wrong.

This threw me a little and I checked
my own wristwatch, and then

I saw the legs of a dead man I didn't
recognise sticking out from behind the sofa.

If it pleases the court, I would
like to read a statement

from the report of the police surgeon,
which has been handed to me.

"After a thorough examination of the
contents of the deceased stomach,

I conclude that he had not
had lunch, but had had a drink.

And that the drink had been spiked
with chloral hydrate"

a process known as
a "Mickey Finn" Your Honour.

He'd been drugged,
before he'd been stabbed.

Would you like to come and
have a cup of tea, dear?

No, thank you.

It must have been a terrible shock.

Well, if you'd like a cup of tea, my name's
Val, and we're at number 61.

Thank you.

How long before he was stabbed was our
"Ms Curry" drugged with the chloral hydrate?

The surgeon says the effect of
the drug can last up to four hours.

So, he was almost certainly
drugged at another location,

and then taken to number
19 Wilbraham Orescent.

Let's talk about this, back
at the station Poirot.

Inspector Mr Hardcastle?

It was exactly as was said by Madame
Hemmings. "He just came here to be killed"

- Inspector?
- What is it, Miss?

I'd just like to speak to him.

He's going back to the station now,
if you want to contact him there.

- But I don't see how what she said...
- Yes, thank you madam.

What she said couldn't possibly be true.

If "Curry" was killed in a different location,
that puts Pebmarsh back in the frame.

Not at all.

Even a blind woman can stab
a drugged man in the heart.

The time of his death is estimated
at between two and three o'clock.

And I have literally millions of witnesses

who saw her in the photographic
studio during that time.

I exaggerate through excitement,
obviously,

but Sheila Webb arrives there -
what do you think to this Poirot?

Through a booking she's made
herself by ringing Martindale,

stabs the fellow, raises the alarm.

You didn't see how scared she was, when
she came out of that house, Hardcastle.

Didn't I?

How she has been set up, every
step of the way. Look at this.

Remember. 4.13.

Hello, Jenkins.

Someone is definitely putting
the frights on her...

Inspector.

The only thing missing is that
it's not written in blood.

Inspector there's a Nora Brent on
the phone would like to speak

to you, regarding the Inquest,

and um... and we have someone who has
an identification of the dead man.

Tell her to ring back later.

Ah Mr Bland, please come in.

I'm afraid the Inspector is busy
at the moment, madam.

I need to speak to him, because what
she said couldn't possibly be true.

She was lying at the inquest, you see.

I'm sorry madam... but it's just
not possible at the moment.

I'm going to come round!

I've seen this man before.

I didn't know it, but then I saw
the girl at the inquest.

Which girl was this?

The girl Sheila Webb.

I'd definitely seen her before,
it was like having a sixth sense of déjà vu

which is a feeling I've not
previously experienced.

And where had you seen before,
the Mdms Webb?

Well Mrs Bland and I were at the
Fine Art Fair, at the Castle Hotel.

Now that our pockets are
a little deeper, Hardcastle,

we get invited to things like that,

and Sheila Webb was walking
through the foyer

having come from upstairs.
With a man. This man.

- When was this?
- The day before the murder.

Are you sure?

Of course he's sure, Leftenant Race,

it's not everyone whose judgement has
melted in the face of a pretty girl.

What are you suggesting?

Thank you for coming in, Mr Bland.

I am questioning your ability
to think professionally

about a young woman you were seen kissing,
moments before the coroner's inquest.

Shall we go and talk to her?

Jenkins, we need to get down to the
parade and find Miss Sheila Webb.

You think she did it, don't you?

At this point in time, Poirot
he rules out nothing.

Oh doesn't he? Well, I know
she isn't involved,

I know she's a good person
who needs our help.

The world is full of good people
who do bad things, mon ami.

So where are you going to go?

I don't have anywhere to go! I don't know
what I'm going to do! Don't touch me!

Sheila. Come back inside.

I don't want you to follow me,
because this all stops now.

- Come back inside.
- Do you understand?

Come back inside, Sheila.
Come on. Calm down.

...They said, she is in the telephone booth!

AAAAARRRRGGHHH!!!

Who is it, Jenkins?

It's Nora Brent, sir. She was trying
to talk to you earlier.

Will someone please get them
to stop hurting my girls!

Will you get it to stop!

Oh, Nora...

Using her exact words, what did Nora
Brent say to you Constable?

She said she couldn't see how what
she said could be true.

That she was lying at the inquest.

And this is Sheila Webb she's talking about?

- I believe so.
- But she didn't mention her name?

Constable Jenkins, are you absolutely
certain that those were her exact words?

- It is very important.
- I'm sure yes, I think so.

And it was busy. Everyone
was on their way out.

Miss Martindale, Sheila Webb
was seen with the dead man

at the Castle Hotel,
a day before the murder.

The Castle Hotel?

That would be during working hours,
did she have an appointment there?

She often has an appointment there.

She had a regular client who
resides at the Castle Hotel.

And I use the word "client"
with all its meaning, sir.

Sheila Webb has a habit of inappropriate
familiarity with some of our male clients.

A Professor Purdy especially,
who resides at The Castle hotel

and requests her services
at least once a week.

He's bought her gifts, I believe,

perhaps you've noticed
the silver wristwatch,

which a girl like Sheila
couldn't possibly afford.

Oui, mademoiselle.

I would not be at all surprised
to hear that she had been seen

with other gentlemen at the Castle Hotel.

That is a disgraceful insinuation.

Is it Leftenant? Surely, you've been
aware of the effect

Sheila Webb has on a certain type of man.

Tell to me if you please,
has mademoiselle Sheila Webb

or mademoiselle Nora Brent ever worked
on the estate of Garry Gregson?

Not again! Who cares about
"Garry ruddy Gregson",

can't you see the case that
is building in front of you here?!

Non Monsieur,
I deal with all matters Gregson.

Merci mademoiselle.

Come on.

Where is it that you go, Inspector?

To show the dead man's photograph
to the Castle staff, of course.

- Are you coming?
- Non.

- No.
- Non.

I don't even begin to understand you, Poirot.

- Evening, sir.
- Evening.

What news have you got for me, Race?

Well I ran checks on the residents
and neighbours of 61

Wilbraham Orescent as well as I can,
and there seems to be...

And what did you find?

Not much, if the truth be told.
The Blands have come into money,

but as you can see from these
bank transactions

it's genuinely an inheritance
from Canada.

Christopher Mabbutt next door is
of interest to us because

he travels extensively on the continent...

Yes Mabbutt works for Armstrong
Ordnance doesn't he,

who supply the French army with weapons.

- He does.
- So not your usual German spy.

No.

- Anything else?
- Not as yet.

Does this second murder on the Parade have
anything to do with Wilbraham Orescent?

- Yes.
- In what way?

I, I don't know.

You don't know much, do you Leftenant?

- Does Poirot?
- Not yet.

Maybe this business in Wilbraham Orescent
has nothing to do with the leak

and Fiona Hanbury's death.

Maybe you're wrong Lieutenant.

I don't think so, sir.

Well you have one more day,

and then I will bring in other agents,
do you understand?

Is that mine?

Yes.

Where did you find it?

I'm sorry I wasn't there for you.

What do you mean?

On the night you died.

Let me get my hat and my coat.

Let's go down the Bluebell,

and then let's go to my house. All right?

- All right.
- Stay here.

Do you recognise him?

Has he been in the Hotel
any time in the past week?

I don't think so.

Possibly accompanied by a young lady,
a miss Sheila Webb.

I cannot believe that poor girl was
murdered in broad daylight,

where anyone could have seen.
It sounds a most desperate crime.

Oui. Most desperate indeed.

Tell to me if you please,
after the inquest

did mademoiselle Nora Brent
say anything to you?

No, why would she?

So you did not know her at all?

She had not made, perhaps, a visit to
the studio here, with a sweetheart?

I don't recognise the name,
but it's possible.

Appointments are usually
made in the man's name.

You're welcome to look, Mr Wright keeps
copies of every photograph

he's ever taken and he's been
here over thirty years.

Merci mademoiselle. But I do not
think that will be necessary.

Does Ms Wright develop
his own portraits?

Oh yes, he does everything here.

If he sends out to a lab, the results
are never as professional.

Oui, d'accord.

Ah, Pedmarsh, so you have
had taken your own portrait?

No monsieur,

these are my sons.

They passed through here during the war,
and sent a portrait back to me.

- They are most handsome.
- Yes, they were. They were.

I volunteered for service after I lost them,
and then, after the war, came here.

And it pains me to think monsieur,
that if this peace does not hold

there will soon be another generation
of boys in these files,

who send photos back to their
parents, but never get home.

Hello.

Where have you been?

Can I be with you tonight?

Ah, Poirot, just in time to help.

We've had over two hundred responses to the
picture of the dead man in the paper.

We're trying to cross-reference them
to see if the same name keeps

coming up, or the photograph fits.

Could they not identify
him at the Castle Hotel?

No, nothing. They knew Sheila Webb
and Professor Purdy,

but I think the Blands must have
seen them and got mistaken,

too eager to help. Do you agree?

Non...

I don't think it's important
who he is, but who he is.

Right, well I'm not going
to rise to that one.

- Bonsoir.
- Oh, the clocks, Poirot,

all bought from the same stall in Deal
market, within the last month,

no ID on the buyer though,
all bought there except the...

- The Rosemary clock.
- Yes. The Rosemary.

Just as I thought.

Thank you, Inspector.

It's not important who he is,
but who he is.

Not important who he is, but who he is.

Anyone understand that?

Most extraordinary.

Forgive me, but unless I am mistaken,
you must be Professor Purdy?

Where did you go, after the Inquest?

I want the truth.

For a walk on the front.

It could easily have been me who
made the call to Miss Pebmarsh.

Easily me who killed that man,
I could've done it all.

And there's no proof that it wasn't.

I just needed time to think what to do.

But when I made my way back
to work I saw Nora was dead.

I knew I'd be blamed for that as well.

I left Dover this afternoon,
and wasn't going to come back,

which would have been bad.

Yes it would.

You need to see the Police
and clear your name.

Yes I know. You believe I'm innocent
don't you, you believe it wasn't me.

I'm going to get us both a drink.

There's glasses in the kitchenette.

These small ones?

Yes.

When did you get this?

- I...
- When did you get it?

Colin, I -

I'm taking you with me
to the police station now.

Now.

Where did you get the murder weapon?

All right.
Where did you get the clock?

Unless I'm mistaken, Inspector,

Mademoiselle Webb received
the clock when she was a child

for her birthday.
Or was it Ohristmas perhaps?

When I was born.

The home told me it was a gift from
my mother, who I never knew.

What are you talking about?

Rosemary is the first name of Mdms Webb,

is that not so?

- Mdms RS Webb.
- Yes.

Rosemary Sheila - and yet you choose
to use your second name, non?

- May I continue?
- Oui. Bien sûre.

Pardon.

If the clock was yours, what was
it doing at Miss Pebmarsh's house?

She does not know, Inspector
which is why she stole it.

The spring it is broken, n'est-ce pas?
So it is possible that a few weeks

previously you took it to the
jewellers to have it repaired?

And then, oui, you lost it.

And the next time you see it, it is
at number 19 Wilbraham Orescent.

And there is there a dead man.
The police, they are everywhere.

And so you think to yourself - why is
someone trying to frame me for murder?

And then you notice that all
the clocks they spell 4.13,

the number of the very room in
the hotel where, in your loneliness

you have begun a love affair with
a man who does not care for you.

And so you think to yourself why is
someone trying to expose my shame?

You do not know.

And the knife? I suspect that you
have never seen this before,

or else almost certainly
you would have got rid of it.

Inspector, may I ask a question?

Of course, will you be answering it as well?

Mademoiselle, when you returned
from lunch on the day of the murder,

mademoiselle Nora Brent,
what was she doing?

- Talking. Nora was always talking.
- About what?

I strut off to lunch and the heel snaps
off in a grate like a twig in a storm.

So now we make the progress.

And in which grate was it did mademoiselle
Nora Brent break her shoe?

Yes, which was it, let's bring the
grate in for questioning shall we?

Inspector. As you told to me only yesterday,

can not you see the case that
is building in front of you?

Not the case about the grate, no!

I don't know which grate it was, sir.

She's here, Inspector.

Who's here?

One name came up five times
in response to the newspapers.

Then the dead man's widow rings up and says
she wants to come in to identify the body.

His name's Harry Castleton.

Put this one back in her cell Constable,
this is far from over.

That's him. That's Harry.

When's the last time you saw
your husband, Mrs Castleton?

Fifteen years ago. And he wasn't
much of a husband.

I don't even know if Castleton
was his real name.

He said he was in Insurance. But that was
just a ruse so he could travel

around and run scams on lonely women.

I gave him the heave-ho when I discovered
that he was engaged to that...

schoolteacher she was. But by then
he had taken me for all my savings.

Did your husband have any
distinguishing marks?

No. Yes he did, behind his left ear.

He cut himself shaving once,
made a terrible mess in the sink.

Thank you for coming Mrs Castleton.

I don't use that name now.
My name is Rival, Merlina Rival.

It was my stage name before
I ever met my husband

and I reverted to it the moment
he disappeared.

This murder gets more complicated
by the minute.

Mais oui. Which can only
mean one thing, mon ami.

The solution it must be very simple.

Where are you going?

I feel it is necessary to speak once
again to the cat lady.

- Madame Hemmings.
- Why?

What an excitement everybody, the big
French Tom's paying us another visit.

I am Belgian madame.

Please sit yourself down, although
you might find the sofa a little damp

because Tiddly-pops is sometimes
tiddly by name as well as by nature,

would you like me to fold up a bath
towel and put it on the seat.

The dampness takes time
to seep through then I find.

Madame, you told to me I think that
in the garden the other evening

you overheard hard words pass between
Ms Mabbutt and Mdms Pebmarsh.

- Yes.
- Why was that unusual?

Well because he's never there.

And when he is he's very polite,
a lovely man,

it's that bad-tempered Nanny everyone
usually has ding-dongs with.

Can you remember what was said?

Well, you were there weren't you Copey?

We need to do it now, Mr Mabbutt!

Not with them swarming
all over the place no.

It will all be wasted
if we don't act now!

She was talking about her plants...

...I imagine, the way those girls
trample all over them.

And this discussion, did it take
place the evening after the body

was discovered in the sitting
room of Mdms Pebmarsh?

No, it was Wednesday, because we'd all just
enjoyed "Band Wagon" on the wireless.

But it was Wednesday that
the body was discovered.

No Tuesday. Thank you, yes, because
I noticed the laundry van

pull up to her house at lunchtime,
the laundry always arrives on Tuesday.

Monsieur hello. Hello.

- Hello?
- Mrs Bland.

Ah Madame Bland!

I hear on the jungle drums that
you've identified the dead man?

Well shall we say the police
they are confident.

- That's wonderful.
- Yes, indeed.

Oh, tell to me if you please madame,
from where in Canada are you?

It is simply that I have some friends in
Montreal and I wondered if you knew them.

Oh not the French speaking part no.

Edmonton it was. Alberta.

Je suis desole. How foolish of me.

Did you find that when you were coming
over here that everyone would say to you -

"I know someone in England, Newcastle,
please to say hello"?

- Oh yes people can be so silly.
- Oui!

But it was natural for me to settle in Dover
because this is where my sister lives.

- As well as meeting Joe here.
- But of course.

Well I'll let you get on monsieur, but that's
wonderful news about the identification.

Yes, indeed. Madame.

We did what you asked.
Do you want to come and see.

Oui.

Madameoiselle Jenny, mademoiselle May,
tell to me what is it you have found.

- Coins.
- Coins?

About two and six.

Ah but that's very good.

And you found all this in the garden
of mademoiselle Pebmarsh?

But you haven't seen
the best thing yet.

But that was in our garden not hers.

What is the best thing?

S'il te plait? Merci.

You may have known him under
a name other than Castleton.

No sir, no.

And he was putting pressure on you for
money maybe, maybe he was blackmailing...

Sir. It's Poirot.

Hardcastle.

Inspector it is a matter of urgency

that you dispatch but immediately
a telegram to Somerset House.

It is also a matter of urgency that
I continue to interview my prime suspect,

so will you go away for ten blinking minutes?

Non, and you must release
mademoiselle Sheila Webb.

Release her?

Oui. It is evident to Poirot
that she is not guilty,

but I will need her help to prove it.

Also, I will need to speak
to her over the telephone

but immediately after I have given
you instructions for Somerset House.

What is going on Poirot?

I will tell to you everything
that Poirot has discovered,

but you must promise to release
Mademoiselle Sheila Webb

and act according to my instructions.

- Go on.
- You must get Somerset House

to verify the marriage record
of Harry Castleton

to mademoiselle Merlina Rival,

and you must also get them
to verify something else for me.

This is Annabel Larkin's I'm sure.

It was found in the Mabat's garden?

Also I learnt from his daughters
that this afternoon

he intends to travel to France.
You must prevent this.

No, you've got the wrong end of the stick.

Trawling through the histories
of the neighbours we found this:

The Waterhouses, with their
perfect English name,

their perfect English voices, are German.

They came over in 1936 from Munich.
They changed their name from Tuchman.

But of course they are German,

did you not notice the slips
in the way they spoke?

We like this street
because it's quiet also.

The use of the word "also"
at the end of the sentence.

A mistake most common in even the most
fluent German when they speak English.

Well why didn't you say?

Because they cannot
be connected Leftenant.

Maybe they buried this in Mabbutt's
garden to draw us away...

Non, non. Monsieur Mabbutt
and Mademoiselle Pebmarsh

were overheard
on the evening of the murder.

You need to do it now, Mr Mabbutt!

with them swarming
all over the place no!

It will all be wasted if we don't act now!

It was presumed that they were
arguing about the children.

But non, Poirot thinks not.
Poirot suspects

that they were talking

about the police that were now
in the neighbourhood

and the importance of getting
the stolen documents

to their contact on the continent.

- Miss Pebmarsh?
- Consider this.

The note that was made by mademoiselle
Fiona on the night she followed Larkin.

It would have been made in haste hein?

A piece of paper, pulled from
her handbag, a scribble.

What does it mean?

Number 61? No-one knows what it means.

Exactement, mon ami, exactement,
so if you please?

Perhaps Poirot is correct
when he does this.

19 Wilbraham Orescent.

Mademoiselle Pebmarsh.

Oan I ask you where you're
going please Mr Mabbutt?

- Why are you asking?
- Routine.

Well I'm taking the Calais ferry
in three quarters of an hour,

and have business in France for
the next three days. Good day to you.

Will you step over
to the car please, sir.

Just a minute of your time.

What is the meaning of this Leftenant?

Bear with us sir. I apologise
for the inconvenience.

Good afternoon.

Good afternoon Mademoiselle,
it is I, Hercule Poirot.

And what can I do for you, Monsieur.

Eh bien, mademoiselle I have reason
to believe that Mademoiselle Nora Brent

may have visited the studio
here to have a photograph

taken with a gentleman,
and I wondered if I might take

you up on your offer most kind
to have a look through your records.

Of course.

Not knowing the gentleman's name I suppose
it would be best if you were to start

at the beginning of the alphabet
and work your way through.

Oui d'accord.

Then you should begin here.

Merci.

Fine weather for a crossing today sir.

How long is this going to take?

Just a few minutes more.

What have we here?

Get off me!

Would you like a cup of tea, monsieur?

Non, non, non, merci mademoiselle.
I think I have found what I am looking for.

Already?

Oui.

I thought that the sweetheart of
Mademoiselle Nora Brent had a name

at the beginning of the alphabet
and luck it has struck.

Millicent Pebmarsh, I am Leftenant
Race of the Royal Navy

and I am arresting you under
suspicion of high treason.

Will you please accompany me?

So let's have another one then,
come on.

Mrs Rival?

Oh hello, I've said everything I had to say

and I'm back to London on the
two-fifteen so thanking you.

Ohin-Ohin.

Can I ask when Harry Castleton
cut himself shaving?

Well I don't know when.
When we were together.

Fifteen years ago?

I told you I haven't seen him for
fifteen years, didn't you take notes?

The police surgeon tells me that
it's a much more recent scar.

Perhaps only two years old.

Well I remember him doing it, so your
police surgeon is incorrect, your honour.

Mrs Rival, you know that perverting
the course of justice carries

a maximum prison sentence
of four years?

Which is why I don't do it.

Is this your correct address in London?

I believe it is, yes.

Good.

Oh, Sheila. Nice to have you back.

I've been typing up some of the work
that Nora left unfinished

on "Naked Love"; now that you're
back perhaps you could take it over.

Of course, Miss Martindale.

Well, the manuscript's in my office.
It's lunchtime girls.

Quite an operation you had going here.

Larkin would steal the documents.

Pebmarsh would make a copy.

And Mabbutt would make
a drop somewhere in France.

And all of you recruited
by the Waterhouse's.

Non, Leftenant.

The Waterhouses?

You were doing quite
well until you mentioned that scum.

Excuse me.

- What are we doing here?
- Are we under arrest?

Why did you change your name
from Tuchman to Waterhouse,

why are you living in England
under false identities?

- Weil wir Juden sind!
- What?

We are Jewish!

But this is England, why are you
disguising the fact you're Jewish?

Do you think that anti-Semitism doesn't
exist here as well Leftenant?

This is our third English city
in two years!

When you have lived through what
we did in Munich Leftenant,

at the first sign of it you move on.

All we want is to live our lives quietly,
without threat, without prejudice!

The irony is Leftenant, it's in our
country's interests to have peace

with Germany. To stop the communists
creeping ever westward.

We are patriots who pass
information to Hitler,

because if Chamberlain's policy
of appeasement doesn't hold

and someone like Churchill gets
his hands on power

we will be dragged into a war a hundred
times worse than the last one.

And in that scenario the quicker
Germany knocks out

a weak liberal England
the better for all Europe.

Or what would remain
of Europe under the Nazis.

Monsieur you have not seen your
country overrun by foreign tyranny.

I have. And I tell you monsieur

that I value the weak liberal
England, as you call it,

as a country well worth the fighting for.

But you won't do the fighting,
will you Monsieur?

It will be the young boys again.

And if I can save one life by keeping
this country weak

so it cannot engage in war with Germany,

then I will be proud of what I have done.

Fiona Hanbury had a life.

I think people like that are
called collateral Leftenant.

They die for a greater good.

Please! Stop!

The man found dead in Miss Pebmarsh's
sitting room also had a life Mabbutt,

as did the secretary Nora Brent.

No sir, Monsieur Poirot and
I don't believe those deaths

had anything to do with these people.

In fact if we're correct Inspector
Hardcastle is, at this moment,

making an arrest in that
murder investigation.

He practically put a black cap on
his head and gave me five years,

I'm not going to go to prison
for four years, I won't do it.

Well I want more money, more than
the two hundred, no, I want more.

All right I know where that is,
I'll meet you there.

Where do you think she's heading?

Down to the sea front?

If she can stay upright.

- Can you see her?
- No.

Where did she go?

Sir.

So now we are all assembled.

What's this about Inspector?

Mr Poirot would like a word.

But first please do sit down, all of you.

Please Mademoiselle Martindale.
Monsieur and Madame Bland.

Mademoiselle Sheila Webb.

I thank you all very, very much
for coming here this evening.

We had little choice.

This has been a puzzle most intriguing
which has tested Poirot,

but not found him wanting.

So first if I may let us take
a look at the facts.

We have a telephone call made
to the Cavendish bureau requesting

the services of a secretary by name,

mademoiselle Sheila Webb, a telephone
call that nobody admits to making.

She arrives in a room full of clocks,
that nobody admits to owning.

But all of these clocks they
spell exactly the same time,

four thirteen, which has no significance.

She finds there a dead man with
an identification that is false,

and who is impossible to trace,
because nobody knows him.

I hope you will agree with me on these
facts, Mademoiselle Martindale?

Yes.

Madame Bland?

I don't understand why myself and my
husband have been summoned here.

All will become clear madame.

Then we have the note most threatening that
was sent to mademoiselle Sheila Webb,

we have the second murder
that of the poor Nora Brent,

who was a colleague of Madamoiselle
Webb and we have

the identification definitive of the dead
man down to the scar behind his left ear.

A gentlemen who apparently was seen
in the hotel with mademoiselle Sheila Webb.

A man who preyed on women
who are vulnerable.

And then we have
complication upon complication.

We have evidence that is totally
circumstantial that builds

and builds into a wall of proof
against mademoiselle Sheila Webb.

But Poirot he realises that in amongst this,

what is the word for obscurisement?

This dark cloud of murder
there is one fact

that can be proved,
is that not so Monsieur?

Which is what?

Which is the eyewitness
Leufenant Race, who saw...

...a woman so frightened,
so bewildered

that it was not possible for her
to have committed murder.

It was the Leftenant Race also
who led Poirot to the solution

when he said of the note
most threatening...

The only thing missing is t
hat it's not written in blood.

Mes amis, there are moments for
a detective when a light, it goes on.

Where had I heard before
that expression?

A cheap thriller on the stage?

Exactement, mon ami, exactement.

The word "Revenge" written
in his blood on the blotter.

Helas! The cheap thriller.
The plots that are complicated.

The usual diet of the Cavendish Bureau,
Mademoiselle Martindale

and it made me to think of la pauvre
mademoiselle Nora Brent,

a young woman who was killed because...

The heel of her shoe broke.

Oh fiddlesticks!

Twenty yards from her place of work.

Which meant that she returned early
to her desk in her lunch hour that day.

She knew that the telephone
it did not sound.

She knew that there was no telephone
call from madamoiselle Pebmarsh

requesting the services of the secretary
mademoiselle Sheila Webb.

I received the call from a Miss Pebmarsh

at about a quarter to two
during the lunch hour.

I don't see
how what she said could be true.

Yes, thank you madame.

What she said couldn't possibly be true.

So she had to be silenced.

Is that not so, Mademoiselle Martindale?

That is ridiculous.

No more ridiculous than the cheap thrillers,
the plots that are complicated

that you had spent your life
working amongst.

Lunchtime girls!

And it was at the instigation
of Hercule Poirot

that Mademoiselle Sheila Webb
she made the search of the papers

of the estate of Garry Gregson
and she found this short story

that Poirot he remembered.

It is full of clocks,
identifications that are false.

There is even a build up of evidence
to frame a person who is innocent,

who felt so implicated in
a crime they did not commit

that they became
frightened and irrational

and therefore
more suspicious to the police.

It is all here Mademoiselle,

you could not even think
of a plot of your own devising.

Oh, except, pardon, the addition
you made of the clock,

the "Rosemary" clock that you stole from
the handbag of madamoiselle Sheila Webb

when she took it to the jewelers
to be repaired. Is that not so?

And then you frighten her
with the number 4.13

the time of the clocks

but also the room in the hotel
where mademoiselle Sheila Webb

conducted her love affair that
was to you "oh so shameful".

But she is not what she seems,

because for mademoiselle
Sheila Webb, her love it was real.

Why would I want that man dead

in Wilbraham Orescent Monsieur,
I didn't even know him.

Do you know what this is Madame Bland?

It is the death certificate
of the first Madame Bland.

Not you, but a woman from Canada.

The woman who inherited all of the money.

When the inheritance came through
Joe said no-one would know,

they didn't know his wife was dead,
and all we had to do was...

- Shut up Val!
- Shut up!

So who is the dead man Poirot?

I do not know Inspector.

But as I told to you before

it is not important "who he is, but who he is".

And Poirot suspects that he is
a friend or relative

of the first Madame Bland who left Canada,

came to this country to look her up.

This was a man who knew that the money
had gone to the wrong woman.

A man who, if murdered,
would become almost impossible

to trace for the police in England.

Madame Bland, you said
something strange to Poirot.

But it was natural for me to settle in Dover
because this is where my sister lives.

Your sister, Madame Bland...

Your sister who is as Canadian as you are.

When the letter from his wife's uncle arrived
Joe said he and Kathy could work it out.

He could rig the old van up
to look like the laundry.

Ah yes, of course the laundry van that
was seen to arrive by Madame Hemmings.

But it arrived on the wrong day. It arrived
on the Wednesday instead of the Tuesday.

Yes, you see because they wanted
to dump him at the blind woman's.

Find a mark on his body
and get a Merlina to verify it.

Who you knew from your days in the theatre?

Come on in. This way.

I hope this isn't an inconvenience?

Oh, not at all.

There look. He has a scar
behind his left ear.

Kathy said she knew how to make it work,
that there was a young tart

at the bureau who no-one would
miss, who would deserve it.

She said she'd set her up,
it would be all right.

They said there would be no reason for
the body to be at the blind woman's

house with Sheila Webb and it
would just confuse the police,

it would be confusion upon confusion,
complication upon complication.

Joe had worked so hard all his life for
nothing, and the money was so huge...

it was so huge...

But they made me do it, they made me put the
knife into Sheila Webb's bag, at the inquest.

Would you like a cup of tea?

They made me press Merlina to come
and lie to falsify the marriage,

and falsely identify the body and then
when she was scared to...

to come to the sea front
so they could kill her...

it was only going to be the one death...

it was only going to be the one...

In the car!

Ok madame, in the back.

- Thank you.
- Madamoiselle.

Thank you Mr Poirot.

And if you're staying in Dover tonight I'd
very much like to stand you another pint.

Well that is most kind of you Inspector,
but it is tonight that I travel to London.

But if you should ever find yourself there,

if you please to look me up
I will stand for you the cocktail.

Right. Pleasure to know you, sir.

- Inspector.
- Leftenant.

Monsieur Colin, do I have
to tell you to go after her?

No.

Then go after her.

I've only known you a few days,

and already it's like we've fallen in love,

got married, had seven children, divorced,

met again
under peculiar circumstances,

married, had a few more children,
divorced...

She must have hated me so much.

Shall we start again Sheila?

- Yes please.
- Let's start again.