All language subtitles for Murder.She.Wrote.S06E03.The.Grand.Old.Lady.WEBRip.x264-ION10

-Kapitan!
-Good heavens!

-[women screaming]
-[people murmuring]

[Jessica] Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

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

-What?
-Murder?

Dad, maybe I can help out.

I mean, how about last month?

I remember having to explain that

I was the detective with
the gold shield, not you.

There will be a personal
search of all passengers.

This is ridiculous!

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

Well, aren't you the dear boy!

Sprechen sie deutsch, Mr. Crane?

What happened to the briefcase
he was carrying?

Is Bishop all right?

We don't know. He never came up.

[lively theme music playing]

Oh, the weather's so beautiful.

It should be a wonderful day.

But it isn't.

It was in the paper this morning.

A wonderful person died
a couple of days ago.

She was very dear to me,

even though I never actually met her.

The paper said that she was 101,

though she could have been a lot older.

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

very much like the books that she wrote.

Abigail Austin.

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

Her books will live on long after mine

are gone and forgotten.

You know, the obituary
reminded me of something

that I'd forgotten.

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

Oh, yes.

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

But for Lady Abigail, I think it was,

well, a somewhat disconcerting situation.

It was two years after the war,

and she had sailed aboard the Queen Mary,

which was one night out of New York City,

-when the trouble started.
-[dramatic music playing]

[door opens]

Mr. Daniken. Good evening, sir.

Good Lord, man, what happened?

It is nothing.

I fell down one
of those ladders, that is all.

The captain, where is he?

It's well past first sitting, sir.

He could be anywhere.

Look here, Mr. Daniken,

that's a nasty cut on your forehead.

Why don't we pop up to ship's hospital

and have a look, eh?

I want this message sent
immediately, do you understand?

Yes, sir, but...

-[door slams]
-Sir!

My dear Lady Austin,

please accept a humble toast
from a devoted disciple.

You're far too kind, Mr. Chancellor.

Nonsense. Your preeminence
is without equal.

Your marvelous detective,
Dexter Saint James,

the hero of 50 novels.

Fifty-five.

Translated into a dozen languages.

Seventeen, including Swahili.

Well, I, for one, cannot wait

until the next Abigail
Austin adventure is published.

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

Well, the war and all.

It hardly seemed patriotic,
writing such frivolities.

Ah, but the war is over.

And I hope you will consider my offer

to write for my program,
The Chancellor Casebooks.

Thank you, but I know nothing about radio.

-Good evening.
-Captain Oliver.

Lady Austin, Mr. Chancellor.

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

-Oh...
-Indeed we have.

When one is aboard this grand old lady,

one feels one has never left British soil.

Won't you join us for a brandy?

Thank you, no.

[loud thudding]

[all exclaiming]

Kapitan!

Kapitan!

-[women screaming]
-[people murmuring]

Good heavens.

Who is that man?

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

He's been stabbed to death.

[dramatic music playing]

[upbeat music playing]

[typewriters clacking]

Yeah, come in, come in.

Hi, Mr. Krumholtz.

-Oh, it's you.
-I know you're busy.

This won't take more than
five minutes of your time.

Wrong, kid,
by four minutes forty-five seconds.

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

Sir, I know what you think,

I'm just a screwy guy
who writes crossword puzzles.

Another time, McGinn.

I'm trying to get the late edition out.

-[bangs knuckles on table]
-Sir, if you could just give me a chance.

Kid, please, I know all about your IQ,

and you got a good head on your shoulders.

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

You put the words together
like you were stringing beads.

Now, look, we tried.

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

six months ago, didn't I help solve

the case of the missing
Studebaker salesman?

And last month, didn't I help figure out

who killed Mayor o'Dwyer's bodyguard?

Sure, sure, kid.

For a reporter,
you make a great detective.

Look, if you want to be
a cop like your old man,

go join the force.

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

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

Kid, want to do me a favor?

Come on, go bother
the world or the journal.

Mr. Krumholtz, sir,

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

You tell Mr. Barnes--

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

-What?
-Murder?

They're holding her in quarantine

until they can get it
all straightened out.

That comes straight from
Detective Lieutenant McGinn.

My dad?

And no press is being allowed onboard.

What should I tell Mr. Barnes, sir?

Kid, you tell Mr. Barnes

that we have got
the situation well in hand.

-[horn blowing]
-[seagulls cawing]

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

Captain's orders.

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

Westin, sir. Second officer.

Westin, I have got to get to my office.

The material in this briefcase
is extremely valuable.

I'm sorry, sir.

Rum business for all of us, you know.

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

He looked a sight, Lieutenant.

Hair messed, clothes askew.

-I assumed that he--
-Lieutenant, excuse me.

There's a chap trying to get onboard.

Says he's your son.

Christy?

Oh, that's all I need.

Tell him... never mind.

Send him in.

I'll tell him myself.

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

left to find the captain,
got himself stabbed

on the third deck between 8:45 and 8:55.

Question: was someone following him?

Question: did he know
who that someone was?

Chancellor, I know the questions.

What I'm looking for are the answers.

Dad!

Ah, McGinn-fils. My day is complete.

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

Mind? Of course I mind.

Aren't you supposed to be home

making up this Sunday's
crossword puzzle or something?

Did it last night.

Dad, I got to speak to you for a moment.

This had better be good.

I got a job, Dad. A real job.

Well, that's what Mr. Krumholtz said.

Krumholtz?

That guy fires you out of force of habit.

But I got to come up
with a story on this killing.

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

I'd gladly pay your way
through law school.

Dad, maybe I can help out.

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

Oh, yeah, I remember, Son.

I remember having to explain

that I was the detective
with the gold shield, not you.

Oh, come on, Dad.

I got as much right to be here

as that pompous radio jerk Chancellor.

Wrong as usual, McGinn.

I was there when the victim died.

I am a material witness.

Now, if you wish, Lieutenant,

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

He stays.

Well, I distinctly heard you say--

Is this distinct enough
for you, Chancellor?

My son stays.

Okay, where was I?

Oh, yeah, the killing.

Victim was a man named Peter Daniken.

Wine merchant from Denmark.
He was stabbed to death.

And you saw the stabbing, Mr. Chancellor?

Not the stabbing, no.

Merely the poor man's expiration.

I was seated in the pub,

enjoying a '29 Chateau d'Yquem
with Lady Abigail Austin.

What?

I said I was--

The Lady Abigail Austin, here?

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

Fourteen, young man.

But I believe she's up on A Deck.

Thanks.

Christy!

Do you realize what this means, Paul?

We will miss the connection to Baltimore.

I'm sure there are many trains, Papa.

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

[ship horns blowing]

I missed you at breakfast.

I wasn't hungry.

Is she here to meet you?

I don't know.

I didn't look for her on the dock.

-Look, El, I'm sorry.
-No, don't be sorry, Dan.

This was my idea.

We'd said our goodbyes.

I should have left it there.

I couldn't.

I think I'll go below deck.

Goodbye, darling.

Excuse me. Lady Abigail Austin?

Yes?

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

I mean, meeting you in person.

I've read all of your books,

some of them three or four times.

Well, aren't you the dear boy.

Would you like my autograph?

Uh, sure.

What is your name, young man?

Christy. Christy McGinn.

McGinn? Christopher McGinn?

Actually, I don't go by that.

The same Christopher McGinn

who devises those fiendishly
clever puzzles

in the men's quarterly?

Well, yes.

And who only a few months ago

helped the New York Police

apprehend a missing car salesman

with only a broken cuff link for a clue?

Well, yes.

Oh, young man, the honor is all mine.

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

Working together?

Well, on this murder, of course.

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

Well, actually,
I was just sort of planning

to write about it.

Oh, nonsense! [laughs]

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

As you know, I was there when he died.

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

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

for some radio program he's involved with.

Anyway, in pops Daniken.
He sees the captain.

He staggers forward,

he gasps, "Kapitan! Kapitan!"

And then... [imitates throat slitting]

Kapitan? That's German.

I thought Daniken
was supposed to be Danish.

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

all those dreadful Nazis.

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

I know, but there was something else.

Daniken went to
the purser's office last night,

just before he was stabbed.

He gave him a message to send ashore.

The purser was kind enough
to tell me about it,

and I copied it down.

I have it here somewhere.

Ah-ha.

This is very significant, I think.

"To Ilona Daniken,

Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, New York.

Darling, arrive tomorrow at 10:00.

Feeling under the weather.

Sikorsky sends regards.

Remember, we met him
in Vienna, September 1936.

Love, Peter."

I don't get it.

Sikorsky. International chess player.

Andrei Sikorsky? I thought he was dead.

Never proved.

When Hitler marched into Poland in '39,

he was in the fight for Warsaw.

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

Sikorsky's a common name in Europe.

Perhaps.

But even though our Mr. Daniken
kept to himself,

he was observed playing chess on deck.

Now, you add to that

the reference to Vienna, to 1936,

well, there's just no question.

Here, you just see for yourself.

"International chess tournament,

Vienna, Austria, September 1936.

Sikorsky defeated Von Richter

with a move that has come to be known

as the Sikorsky ploy."

Don't you see? Daniken was Sikorsky.

Or perhaps he was Von Richter.

Or perhaps he was someone else

being pursued by Sikorsky or Von Richter.

-Excuse me, Lady Austin.
-Ah, Bellows.

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

in the forward lounge at once, sir.

It's quite urgent.

Lady Austin.

[ship bells ringing]

That is what I said, Captain.

No one leaves this ship

until they've been thoroughly searched.

I'm afraid I must protest.

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

-Dad?
-Ah, there you are, son.

I think we've found our motive.

Special Agent Lennihan,
Treasury Department,

-My son, Christy.
-Very nice to meet you.

Inspector, this is a sensitive matter.

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

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

but German.

By the name of Von Richter, I believe.

He was named Kreitzman.

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

-Oh?
-Yeah.

It seems here Kreitzman came aboard

carrying something very valuable.

Carrying what?

I'm not at liberty to say.

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

Maybe even tens of millions.

And nobody gets off this ship
until I find it.

Mr. Lennihan,

if Daniken, or Kreitzman,
or whoever he was,

was carrying something valuable,

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

I quite agree.

I'll vouch for my son.

As for me, Mr. Lennihan,

I am an honorary Constable
with Scotland Yard,

and I have the badge to prove it.

All right.

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

Let's hear it.

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

In January of 1945,

he was transferred
from the Saar Valley to Berlin,

where he was put in charge

of a plan known as Operation Geltkrieg.

Geltkrieg? "Money war"?

Precisely.

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

Perfect job, according to intelligence.

The plan was to print up
millions of counterfeit fives.

Debasing the currency,

throwing the country into economic chaos.

Except the war ended.

The plates disappeared
and were presumed lost.

Then, two months ago,

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

by a ring of ex-Gestapo officers.

-Including Daniken.
-And Daniken's wife.

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

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

And Scotland Yard followed him
to London Airport,

where he had a reservation.

But he must have known
that he was being followed,

because he slipped the tail.

Daniken boarded around 6:00,

an hour or so before sailing.

And your men didn't follow him aboard?

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

Sounds to me like
somebody followed him onboard.

Captain, do you remember boarding

any other last-minute passengers?

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

You see what we're up against.

You have a murder to solve, Inspector,

but I have a plate to find.

Now, as long as Daniken had it,

it was simply a matter of following him

until he led us to the others.

But now that plate
could be in the possession

of any one of 1,100 passengers.

And if it gets off this ship,

it could have economic repercussions

at the highest level.

[mysterious music playing]

What are you doing in my cabin?

You were looking for what?

Evidence, Lieutenant. Evidence.

Evidence of what?

Peter Daniken came aboard this ship alone.

He talked to no one
except Mr. Nicholas Crane.

I observed the two of them
playing chess together

the first day out of port.

Yes.

Yes, and when the sun
became too much for him,

we played in his stateroom.

But chess is hardly a criminal activity.

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

Sprechen sie deutsch, Mr. Crane?

Or perhaps you are Polish.

Neither.

Captain, I hardly knew the man.

When was the last time you saw him?

Around eight. He said
he was going for a walk.

Been cooped up in his cabin all day.

I guess he needed the exercise.

Captain, may I go, please?

Lieutenant?

Yeah. Yeah, you can go.

If we need you, we'll let you know.

You're making a terrible
mistake, Lieutenant.

Daniken sent a message ashore,

a clue to the identity of his assailant.

Perhaps the two men argued
over their chess match.

Mr. Chancellor, Daniken
is a former Gestapo agent

named Otto Kreitzman, and the motive--

None of your business, Chancellor.

Now get out of here. Stop meddling.

Of course.

Otto Kreitzman, you said?

How interesting.

Terribly sorry, Inspector.

I shouldn't have opened up that way,

but that man's insufferable.

Tell me about it.

Sir, I have the manifest.

These are the passengers
who boarded this ship

after Mr. Daniken booked passage.

There appear to be four of them. Hello.

What is it?

One of the four is
the gentleman who just left,

Mr. Nicholas Crane.

Arthur Bishop, Stateroom Nine.

According to your passport,
you've just come

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

That's right.

I'm a fashion designer
for Majesty Fashions,

where I should be now.

Sorry, no one's permitted ashore.

Captain, let me tell you
a little something

about the fashion business.

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

between success and bankruptcy.

Now, I happen to have in my portfolio

some sketches for something
called "The New Look".

New look?
Whatever happened to the old one?

I have got to get ashore now.

You boarded the ship a half-hour

before she was to set sail.

So what?

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

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

why didn't you fly?

That's none of your business.

Perhaps you weren't in quite such a hurry.

And what is that supposed to mean?

That you know about
the murder of Peter Daniken.

[smirking] What has that
got to do with me?

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

Despite evidence to the contrary,

I am not completely convinced

that the Wright brothers got it right.

Call me a skeptical coward.

We're listening.

From Paris, I took
the channel boat to Dover.

I got to Southampton at 7:30,

just in time to make the connection.

Now may I go?

Yes, Mr. Bishop, you may go.

But until you're told otherwise,

you're still confined to the ship.

If this costs me my season, Captain,

you will hear from my attorneys.

I do adore American businessmen.

They are so genteel.

[chuckling] And then there were two.

Lieutenant Eleanor Cantrell, army nurse,

Paul Viscard,

who is accompanying his father
to Baltimore.

-Captain Oliver.
-Yes, Mr. Westin?

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

We've located them below,

having a bit of a row with Mr. Lennihan.

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

he's got another guess coming.

-Son.
-Right, Dad.

Lady Austin?

No, Christopher. You go along.

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

The woman's approach, you know.

[fanciful music playing]

"Nicholas Crane, Eleanor Cantrell,

Paul Viscard, Arthur Bishop."

Now, are you sure
these are the chief suspects?

Yes, sir.

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

Don't ask me why, sir.

All right.

If you hear anything else,
you will be sure to let me know.

Right, sir.

Your behavior is inexcusable, monsieur.

We are being treated
like common criminals.

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

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

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

My father is traveling to Baltimore.

To visit my daughter,

who is married to one of your GI's.

My father seemed to be in some discomfort

when we boarded.

Nonsense.

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

Naturally, I had no clothes with me,

so I bought some things onboard.

-Excuse me, Mr. Viscard.
-Yes?

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

That is correct.

Normally, I would travel first-class,

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

There was nothing left.

A minor inconvenience.

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

Statement? About what?

Your whereabouts last evening.

Say, between 8:30 and 9:00.

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

That's right.

I'd like a full statement
for our stenographer.

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

No, that may be some time yet.

There will be a personal search
of all passengers,

deck by deck, in alphabetical
order, Mr. Viscard.

-Oh, this is ridiculous!
-Sorry.

Look, I want to warn you, sir.

I am not without influence.

Paul, take me to my cabin.

Find anything?

Nothing.

[ship horn blowing]

Good morning.

Morning.

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

[chuckling] My word,
I must be getting old.

And these shoes, why, they're impossible.

I don't believe we've met.

Abigail Austin. How do you do?

Eleanor Cantrell.

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

[chuckles] Does it show that much?

It does, and it's delightful.

Ooh, but I am appalled
with this dreadful delay.

Aren't you?

I'm in no hurry.

Really?

Why, I should imagine a young girl

would find a thousand delights

in such a wonderful city.

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

I'm booked for the return trip.

Oh, how strange.

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

Furlough? Oh, you're with the military.

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

I'm stationed at Lancaster.

Lovely city. My first husband died there.

Well, surely you're not traveling alone?

Well, yes.

Strange, I haven't seen you at dinner.

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

Why are you asking me all these questions?

Am I?

Oh, I didn't realize that.

I am so sorry. I...

Would you excuse me a minute?

Oh, don't rush off.

A singularly uninformative
interrogation, Lady Austin.

I couldn't help but overhear.

Interesting that the young lady
is traveling alone,

yet that's the third time

I've seen her with the army major.

A steward brought this to me in my cabin.

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

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

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

[suspenseful music playing]

Hey, stop!

[crowd clamoring]

[woman screaming]

[splashing]

Man overboard! Man overboard!

Don't! Dan? Dan!

Dan!

How is he, Doc?

Pressure's a little high, pulse rate up.

You seem to be out of condition, Major.

[chuckles] After spending 18 months
recuperating in a hospital,

you would be, too, Doctor.

Seems to me that makes your leap

into the water a little dumb.

Why did you go after Mr. Bishop, Major?

You're looking for that man's killer.

I saw Bishop being questioned
in the dining room earlier,

and I thought he was making a run for it.

That's the only reason?

I'm a provost marshal, Lieutenant.

The uniform's a little different,

but I'm still a cop.

What happened to the briefcase
he was carrying?

Never saw it.

Well, what happened?

-Is Bishop all right?
-We don't know.

He never came up.

Which means he either swam away

without being seen.

Or they're still down there...

both Mr. Bishop and his briefcase.

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

Brave? I wonder.

What's that supposed to mean?

My dear Lady Abigail,

you saw as well as I did
the transfer of the envelope

from Miss Cantrell to Major McGuire.

I just wonder what...

Excuse me, I was just wondering

about the condition of Major McGuire.

Oh, are you Mrs. McGuire?

No. I'm a nurse.

I thought I might be able to help out.

Well, it's very kind of you,

but I believe the major's doing fine.

Oh. Oh, that's good to hear.

Thank you. Thank you very much.

Would you like to see him, Miss Cantrell?

Oh, no, that won't be necessary.

I'm sure he would like to see you.

But I don't even know the man.

Strange that you were speaking with him

only moments before
he leaped over the side...

when you handed him that envelope.

Excuse me, Lady Abigail.

There's something I have
to check on immediately.

Well, we're not gonna know a thing

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

Do you think Bishop may have been carrying

the missing currency plate?

Thought crossed my mind.

Gentlemen, how is the major?

A little tired. He'll be up shortly.

Where's Chancellor?

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

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

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

Right. See you later.

Christopher, did the major
mention anything

about being in hospital?

Matter of fact, he did. Why?

Just as I thought.

And Eleanor Cantrell is an army nurse.

Yes?

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

L'affaire d'amour.

Oh, sure. I got that, yeah.

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

Spy on a couple of lovebirds?
Of course not.

But if there's a connection...

But me no buts.

Christopher, our quarry
is to be found elsewhere.

-[clicks tongue]
-[dramatic music playing]

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

Excuse me, Mr. Viscard.

Ah, Monsieur McGinn.

Any word from your father
when we may go ashore?

No, I'm sorry.

Sir, I hate to intrude like this,

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

Don't you think my father
has been subjected

to enough questioning?

We had enough of these tactics
from the Nazis.

Paul. Paul, please.

What is your question, Mr. McGinn?

Sir, according to the manifest,

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

That's right, for myself.

As you know,

my son decided to accompany me
at the last moment.

Yes, but you also said

that you didn't go first-class

because there were no staterooms.

Well, the trouble is, sir,

both Nicholas Crane and the victim

boarded the ship less than
an hour before sailing,

and they had no problem
booking staterooms.

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

Kreitzman's death
was nothing to do with us.

Paul, please.

The young man has caught me in a lie.

A small one, but a lie nonetheless.

Papa, please.

I pretend to be a wealthy banker.

A lie.

I say I'm going to visit my daughter,

yet another lie.

The war was very cruel to me, young man.

I lost a son, murdered by the Nazis.

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

No, I am not going to visit my daughter.

I am going there to live,

because there is nothing else for me.

I'm sorry.

Does that satisfy you?

Yes, sir. Well, I mean, no, sir.

Sir, earlier today,

when you realized your person
was going to be searched,

you scooted back into your cabin,

almost as if you were trying
to hide something.

You're crazy.

No, no, no, no. Very astute.

Little escapes you, Mr. McGinn.

Papa, there's no need for that now.

Paul, there is no danger now.

My legs are useless, but not without pain.

And before I boarded the ship,

I brought along a supply of morphine,

which, of course, is contraband,

and I kept it hidden here.

And it was there earlier?

Yes. The small amount that was left.

I had a severe attack
last night, after supper,

and sleep can be a blessed friend

to a body wracked with pain.

Christopher. Psst!

-[kitchen bell rings]
-Excuse me.

You must come with me right now.

I was just--

Dear boy, don't just stand there.

I have discovered who killed Daniken.

Christopher, you remember the message

that Daniken sent ashore to his wife.

It was all about Sikorsky, Vienna, 1936.

Sure.

That led to my assumption that, possibly,

Daniken was Sikorsky,

which, of course, he was not.

He was that miserable, dreadful Gestapo.

-Shh.
-Oh. Shh.

[whispering] Then again,
there's always the possibility

that Daniken's killer
was Sikorsky or Von Richter.

But I don't think that's the meaning

of the message, either.

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

Oh, vividly.

Sikorsky apparently made an error

which permitted Von Richter

to pounce upon his king's bishop.
[chuckles]

Actually, it was
a brilliant move by Sikorsky,

who sacrificed his king's bishop

to draw Von Richter into his trap,

and it was mate in seven.

-What?
-Mate in seven.

That's chess parlance, Mr. McGinn.

Von Richter was checkmated in seven moves.

Here, I can show you on the board.

Now, you see?

You see what it means, don't you?

I think I do.

[woman screaming]

Good heavens.

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

What is it?

I believe they have found Mr. Bishop, sir.

Excuse me.

-[ship horn blowing]
-Not a mark on him.

Looks like he drowned.

I'll wait for the autopsy.

And no sign of that briefcase?

None, sir.

But my divers are still looking.

Well, so much for Mr. Arthur Bishop.

Dad, I think Lady Abigail
cracked the case.

She has? Well, who did it?

Do you think you could gather everybody

in the forward lounge?

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

Who do I look like, Charlie Chan?

Please, Dad, let her have the spotlight.

It's important.

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

-Where's Chancellor?
-Who cares?

Captain, Edwin Chancellor,

he's in Stateroom Seven, isn't he?

Quite so.

I'll get him. You go ahead.

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

No such luck, Dad.

Gonna have to settle for somebody else.

[knocking at door]

It's not locked.

Yes?

When was that?

Thank you so much.

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

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

Lady Austin and I think

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

Hmm.

As have I, McGinn.

My office has been in touch
with Great Britain,

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

Really? So you found it?

Well, the solution
was not difficult to find,

I assure you.

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

Yes, but shouldn't we...

Don't dilly-dally, McGinn.

The sooner we get this business over with,

the sooner we'll be off this ship.

[suspenseful music playing]

[Chancellor claps twice]

[clears throat]

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

Patience, Mr. Lennihan.

Ah, there you are, Christopher.

Didn't want to start without you.

Or me, Lady Austin.

Lieutenant McGinn, happily, for all of us,

we'll soon be able to leave this ship.

I believe that I have
discovered the identity

of Daniken's murderer.

You too?

Well, how stunning.

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

the meaning of Mr. Daniken's message.

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

Really?

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

Am I? Consider the facts.

The time, a ten-minute span

between 8:45 and 8:55 last evening.

Peter Daniken, or, if you prefer,

an ex-Gestapo officer named Otto Kreitzman

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

Somewhere on the third deck,
he is stabbed.

He staggers into the pub,
comes through the door,

and gasps the word "kapitan".

Captain Oliver was standing right there.

He was speaking to Captain Oliver.

But was he?

Why was he coming to see the captain?

For his protection?

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

No, I think he had a different
use for the word "kapitan",

an entirely different meaning.

He was trying to tell us
he had been stabbed

by a captain.

Not Captain Oliver,

Captain McGuire.

-You're crazy.
-I think not.

Mr. Chancellor, it might have escaped you,

but Major McGuire is not a captain.

Not now.

But that was his rank
two years ago in Berlin,

when he was part of an advance company

that took Gestapo headquarters,

where he first came across Otto Kreitzman.

I never saw that man before in my life.

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

In my cabin, reading.

I've located a steward
who is willing to swear

that he brought fresh linens

to your cabin at 20 minutes to 9:00,

and your cabin was empty.

Of course it was empty, you fool.

-Dan...
-Quiet, Ellie.

I submit that Major McGuire
recognized this man

and tried to apprehend him. They scuffled.

That would explain Daniken's
disheveled appearance

in the purser's office.

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

and you struggled again.

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

No, he couldn't have killed that man,

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

and I'll swear to it.

Oh, really, Mr. Chancellor.

Why can't you see
what is so perfectly obvious

to all the rest of us?

These two young people are in love.

I was his nurse at a hospital
in Lancaster.

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

When he got his orders to go home,

I couldn't just say goodbye,

so I boarded ship at the last moment.

Two years ago,
an advance party into Berlin.

That would be late April or early May.

And Kreitzman was in Cologne
during April and May.

Perhaps I have my chronology
slightly wrong.

That's not all, Mr. Chancellor.

In German, a captain
in the army is hauptmann,

not kapitan.

I hope you're satisfied, sir.

Accusing this young man,
putting this poor girl

through this ordeal.

I think it's perfectly evident,
from the clues,

that the real killer of Mr. Daniken

was Mr. Arthur Bishop.

Bishop, eh?

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

The pity is that he isn't alive

to face the verdict of his peers.

Oh, it was Mr. Bishop, all right.

Well, the radiogram
to shore tells us that.

Isn't that right?

Christopher?

Hmm? Why don't you explain for everyone?

It was the reference
to a chess match in 1936.

Sikorsky beat the reigning
champion with a ploy

that involved the sacrifice
of his king's bishop.

Remember?

Mr. Bishop was chief designer
for Majesty Fashions.

Let's see.

Daniken was trying to tell his wife

that Bishop was after him for the plate.

Yeah, and it looks like he got it too.

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

And when we dredge up that briefcase,

we have the plate.

Christy, what do you think?

Well, that certainly makes sense to me.

Congratulations, Lady Austin.

-[slow music playing]
-Thank you.

But you deserve most of the credit.

Oh, without you,

I doubt I would've even tried
to puzzle this one out.

You've made an old lady feel young again.

Inspector, may I presume the rest of us

are free to go?

You may. And thank you all
for your Patience.

Captain, you can begin
to let the passengers disembark.

Thank you.

Dad, Mr. Lennihan,

could I see you both for just a minute?

Of course, I'll make the motives clear,

and give the suspects some color.

It's all about a murder that takes place

on a cruise ship.

Imagine that.

Dan? Dan!

What is it you want us to see, son?

-You'll see, Dad.
-Unlocked, huh?

Chancellor told me he never locked it.

Now, that's important,

because it wasn't locked last night.

I don't get it.

That's just the point, Mr. Lennihan.

If I'm right...

I believe you do get it.

This is the baby.

But how did you know?

When Crane described the chess match,

it just hit me,
the meaning of the message.

Daniken was being chased.

He had to hide the plate

so it wouldn't fall into the wrong hands.

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

so when he found
Chancellor's door unlocked,

he hid the plate in here for safekeeping.

But how did you know it was hidden there?

Two things.

The chess match ended in seven moves,

or as Nicholas Crane put it
in chess parlance,

"mate in seven".

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

was here in Stateroom Seven.

Also, he said he was feeling
under the weather.

Well, I just put two and two together.

Then all this business
about king's bishop,

that was all wrong.

Why didn't you say something?

Maybe to keep from
hurting someone's feelings.

That's right, Dad.

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

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

I know, all right.

But I could never prove it.

You won't have to.

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

take the blame for something I did.

Mr. Viscard, I ought to warn you--

To say nothing before
I've consulted an attorney.

It doesn't matter.

Kreitzman was filth,

responsible for the murder
of dozens of my countrymen,

including my own brother.

-[dramatic music playing]
-I was bringing my father aboard

when I spotted him on the upper deck.

I tried to locate him, but he was gone.

That's when I booked passage.

Because his name was different,

it took me most of the voyage to find him.

Monsieur Viscard has agreed

to return to England, Lieutenant.

British vessel, high seas and all,

I expect the Crown has jurisdiction.

-No argument here.
-[hopeful music playing]

I'm happy you see it that way.

Well, since Kreitzman
has already been tried,

found guilty and condemned
to death by the Allied court,

this could be an interesting
and abbreviated proceeding.

[joyful music playing]

Thanks.

My pleasure.

Lennihan.

[ship bells ringing]

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

-Hear what, Dad?
-"Hear what?"

Come on, you're fairly busting

to tell me how you knew
Paul Viscard did it.

No, I'm not. Really.

Hey! Whoa!

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

-You're sure?
-Yeah.

You always hate it when I tell you.

Oh, come on, Son, that's crazy.

I don't hate it.

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

Come on, let's hear it.

Okay.

Well, the old man said
he'd been having supper

with Paul in his cabin.

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

he also said he dropped off to sleep,

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

And the other thing is,
Paul called the victim

by his real name, Kreitzman,

when everyone else onboard
knew him as Daniken.

That's it?

Well, I know it's not much.

Much? You call that police work?

Let me tell you what that was, Son.

Guesswork. A stab in the dark.

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

-It's drudgery.
-Mm-hmm.

-It's painstaking.
-Mm-hmm.

Hey!

-[hopeful music playing]
-Lieutenant.

Major.

Well, you're looking much happier

than the last time we saw you.

A lot happier,

for a man whose marriage
just fell apart on him.

Isn't it wonderful? His wife left him.

Oh, well, she ran off with a lumberjack.

My sister just brought me the news.

She didn't want to write.

She thought it might hit me too hard,

being in the hospital and all.

We're going back just long enough

for me to resign from service.

Oh, well, good luck to both of you.

-Thank you.
-Thank you.

-Thank you.
-Thank you.

Thank you.

What's the matter, Dad?

Little attack of hay fever?

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

Serious doubts.

[both laugh]

-[orchestral music playing]
-To the best of my knowledge,

the major and his nurse got married

and lived happily ever after.

But the real happy ending
belonged to Abigail Austin.

She never realized

that her solution to the murder was wrong.

Even though he knew the truth,

young Christy McGinn
never wrote the story.

He knew that it would break
Lady Austin's spirit,

as well as her heart.

She went on to write another dozen books

before she finally retired

to her rose garden in Brighton.

To those of us who came afterwards,

she truly was a grand old lady.

[lively theme music playing]