All language subtitles for Ten Little Indians 1965

(lighthearted music)

(upbeat music)

(lighthearted music)

- Inaccessible sort of place.
- Very remote.

(lighthearted music)

- Gentlemen, my name is Grohmann.

Shall I offer you drinks
or show you to your rooms?

- I think we would prefer
first of all to meet our host.

- I'm sorry, sir.

Mr. Owen isn't here.
- Not here?

- Where is he?
- Extraordinary.

- When do you expect him?
- This evening, sir.

- Has he been delayed?
- I really couldn't say, sir.

- Oh, come, come.

What's your name?
- Grohmann, sir.

- Well, Grohmann, you must
have some instructions.

- My instructions are to
make you all comfortable.

I understand Mr. Owen
will be here for dinner.

- Oh, well, that's better.
- Is it?

I find it is a singular lapse
of manners, a house party,

and the host the last to arrive.

- It happens.
- Not to me, young man.

- What sort of chap is our absent host?

I haven't had the pleasure.
- Strangely, neither have I.

What's he like, Grohmann?

- I have no idea, sir.

My wife and I, we are hired

by an agency in Vienna two days ago.

We've never met Mr. Owen.

- I trust you'll be comfortable.

If there's anything you want, please ring.

By the way, I'm Ann Clyde,
Mr. Owen's secretary.

Did he leave any instructions for me?

- No, Miss.

We want a word with Mr. Owen
ourselves when he arrives.

They never told us at the
agency the size of this place

or that we'd have to
look after eight guests.

- I don't think that's any of our concern.

Miss Clyde, shall we join the others?

- Bitch.

- I think I'll have
trouble with Her Ladyship

before the weekend's over.

Tell me about your Mr. Owen.

What's he like?

- My dears, you look absolutely stricken.

I'm sure you all know the
story of the two Englishmen

cast away on a desert island
who never spoke to each other,

because they hadn't been introduced.

- We were just about to perform that task.

- Well, since I'm not
English, I'll break the ice.

I'm Hugh Lombard.
- Dr. Edward Armstrong.

- Judge Cannon.
- How do you do, sir?

General Sir John Mandrake.

- Blore, William Henry.
- Ann Clyde.

- This lady, I'm sure we all know.

We've admired you on
the screen, Miss Bergen.

- Thank you, judge.

- Well, I guess that leaves only me.

You've probably all heard of

Mike Raven and The Blackbirds.

No?

Where's everybody been lately?

- You a singer?
- Yeah.

Number three on the charts last week.

"Why Does My Baby Do This to
Me When We Could Be in Love?"

- A mixed gathering.

Now, some of us don't know our host.

Perhaps those who do could
tell us something about him.

- Well, he's a rich guy.

Eccentric.

At least that's what I've been told.

- But you haven't met him?
- Well, no.

He called up my agent to come
over to talk over a deal.

Ticket paid for, all set up.

- May I ask if any others know Mr. Owen?

- How utterly marvellous.

You all came to a house party
without knowing your host.

- Well, what about you, Miss Bergen?

- Darling, it happens to me all the time.

But, of course, one of us does
know the mysterious Mr. Owen.

His secretary.

- Then satisfy our curiosity, my dear.

- I'm afraid I can't.

I was engaged through an agency in London.

- This is quite ridiculous.

I have a good mind to leave at once.

- Yeah, but what about the snow?

- That, I assure you, sir,

would not deter me.

I've never known such a situation.

- Well, Grohmann did say
he'd be here for dinner.

- Quite right, so he did.

- In that case, let's
settle in, find our rooms.

(bell ringing)

- You rang, sir?
- Good Lord.

All right, I am ready to see my room now.

- I think we all are.

Unless you're thinking
of leaving us, general?

- Gentlemen, would you please follow me?

- If you just started
working for Mr. Owen,

you didn't send out the invitations.

- No, I didn't, Mr. Lombard.

Why?

- Just curious.

- I think you have the
wrong bag, Mr. Lombard.

- Very observant, aren't you, Mr. Blore?

-C.M.?

- Yes, that's right.

Charles Morley.

A friend of mine.

I borrowed it and forgot to return it.

You know how it is?

Besides, it's pigskin.

(lighthearted music)

- Oh, I beg your pardon, doctor.

I thought it was a cupboard.

It seems we're sharing a bathroom, doctor.

- Oh, I didn't know.

I was just taking a pill, slight headache.

- Yes, it's the travelling, you know.

Affects me the same way.

I've got a bit of a headache too.

You haven't got another
pill by any chance?

- I'm afraid that was the last.

- Oh, it doesn't matter.

A stiff whiskey and soda before dinner

might do the trick, eh?
- Yeah.

(water flowing)

- Mr. Blore?
- Yes?

- The bathroom is yours.
- Thank you.

(water flowing)

- 10 little Indians went out to dine

One choked his little
self, then there were nine.

- We could have stayed
in Vienna all along.

You said it was safer to take another job.

- Will you shut up?

- They didn't suspect us there.

We were safe.

- We won't be safe here if you open

your mouth much louder in this house.

Now, get on with your work.

(muffled speaking)

(whistles)

- Just terrific.

- Try Ann Clyde.

She's more in your league.

- Hey, we professionals
should stick together.

The rest of this party's pretty square.

- Down, boy.

Down.

- What is your league, Mr. Lombard?

(suspenseful music)

- General, going hunting?

- Our Mr. Owen seems to keep
quite a considerable armoury.

Rather different from our last meeting.

- Our last meeting?

I don't remember.
- Oh, come now.

When I was stationed in Berlin?

- I'm afraid you're mistaken.

Excuse me.

- It seems we're dining
with the 10 little Indians

but without our host.
- Pity.

He missed a jolly good meal.

- Yes, indeed.

Give our congratulations to your wife,

would you Grohmann?
- Thank you, sir.

- But, doctor, you haven't
joined us in this excellent wine.

- Water never hurt anybody, Miss Bergen,

especially in my profession.

- You have a point there.

Keeps the old hand steady, eh?

- May I propose a little toast?

To absent friends, the 10 little Indians

and, of course, our host. (laughs)

- To our host.
- Absent friends.

- 1 hope Mr. Owen isn't
lost in the snowstorm.

You could lose your job.

- Don't jinx it, Mr. Lombard.

- Come on, let's cut out the formality.

Hugh.
- I'm Ann.

- Hi, Ann.

Cigarette?
- Thanks.

- Now, how does that old song go?

- My dear sir, what old song?

- Well, you know, sir.

The old nursery rhyme,
"The Ten Little Indians."

There's a copy of the rhyme

hanging on the wall in my room upstairs.

- That's funny.

There's a copy in my room too.

- And mine.
- Well, then who's with it?

Who's got the first line?

- 10 little Indians went out to dine,

one choked his little self,
and then there were nine.

- That's it, strictly Nurseryville.

Then what happened?
- Nine little Indians

staying up quite late one went away

and then there were eight.

- There's a copy of the song
on the piano in the lounge too.

Mr. Owen seems very
interested in little Indians.

(lighthearted piano music)

♪ Eight little Indians
travelling to heaven ♪

♪ One met a pussycat
then there were seven ♪

♪ Seven little Indians
chopping up sticks ♪

♪ The chopper finished one of
them and then there were six ♪

♪ Six little Indians
playing with the hive ♪

♪ A bumblebee stung one
and then there were five ♪

♪ Five little Indians going in for law ♪

♪ One got chancery and
then there were four ♪

♪ Four little Indians feeling ill at sea ♪

♪ A red herring swallowed one
and then there were three ♪

♪ Three little Indians
walking in the zoo ♪

♪ A big bear hugged one
then there were two ♪

♪ Two little Indians sitting in the sun ♪

♪ One gets all frizzled
up then there was one ♪

- It's all right, general.

He's down to his last little Indian.

- Thank God for that.

♪ One little Indian boy left all alone ♪

♪ So he went out and hanged himself ♪

♪ And then there were none ♪

- And now, sir, will you be good enough

to cease that infernal noise?

- My public bless them.
- Wonderful.

- [Mr. Owen] Ladies and gentlemen,

this is your host speaking.

My name is U.N. Owen.

I have brought you here

to charge you with the following crimes.

General Sir John Mandrake, BC.

That you achieved honour from dishonour

and sent five men to their certain death.

Ilona Bergen, actress.

That you did bring about
the death of your husband

in a most cold-blooded
and ruthless manner.

Dr. Edward Armstrong.

That you did kill Mrs. lvy Benson

and betray your sacred trust.

Arthur Cannon, judge of the Queen's Bench.

That you were responsible for the death

of an innocent man, one Edward Seton

who was hanged according
to your judgement .

Michael Raven, entertainer.

That you were guilty of the murder

of William and Lisa Stern.

Ann Clyde, secretary.

That you murdered your sister's
fiance, Richard Barkley.

Hugh Lombard, engineer.

That you are guilty of the
death of Jennifer Hayes

who was to bear your child out of wedlock.

William Blore, detective.

That, by perjured testimony,
you sent James Landor

to a cold and lonely
death in a prison cell.

Joseph and Elsa Grohmann.

That you maliciously and
brutally caused the death

of your invalid employer,
the Countess Wallenstein.

Prisoners at the bar.

- Where is it coming from?
- Have you anything to say

in your defence?

- Here it is.

- I think she'll be all
right for the moment.

- [Mr. Owen] Blore, detective.

That, by perjured testimony, you sent-

- It's a bloody lie.
- What's going on here?

- It's on this tape.
- A practical joke.

- One in very poor taste,
if I may say so, gentlemen.

- May I ask who put that
tape on the machine?

- It was you, Grohmann.

Come on, tell the truth.
- No, not me.

It was there.
- Did you switch it on?

- Yes, sir.
- Why?

- I didn't know what it was.

I really didn't.

I was just obeying orders.

Before God, I swear.
- Whose orders?

- Mr. Owen's.
- Let's get this quite clear.

Mr. Owen ordered you to switch this on?

- It was written down for me, sir.

"Put on this switch at nine o'clock."

I thought it is music.

I'm telling the truth.

I've never met him.

My wife will tell you.

Elsa.

- I told you we shouldn't have come.

We shouldn't have come here!
- Elsa.

- Look after her, Grohmann.

- What about the rest of us?

- The rest of us had
better go and sit down

and consider our position.

- Yes, indeed.

(Elsa crying)

(speaking in foreign language)

- We've got to get away from here.

- We are not the only ones in
trouble, we've to sit tight.

- We could've stayed in Vienna.

I don't care about the countess's money.

- Shut up, (indistinct).

- You said we got away with it.

- Now, we all know how the
servants came to be here

and, of course, Miss
Clyde, hired by an agency.

I suggest the rest of
us explain our presence.

- Very simple, sir.

I received a letter from Mr. Owen

asking me to join his house party

and claiming friendship

with a very old and dear friend of mine

who was also to be here.

- Like I told you, my
European agent fixed it.

I had a week free between
engagements in Paris and Vienna.

- And you, doctor?

- Frankly, I came in a
professional capacity.

I was asked to join the guests

but in fact to make a medical
examination of Mr. Owen.

- Oh, he needs a psychiatrist but bad.

- Knock it off, huh?

- And you, Mr. Lombard?

- Like the general, I
had a letter claiming

he was a friend of a friend.

- We've all been taken for the same ride.

I've been told I'd be meeting

important people from the film business.

- And I expected to
meet some legal friends.

- What about Mr. Blore?

We haven't heard his explanation.

- Well, I see no reason
to conceal it any longer.

I'm here to do a job.

- He's a cop.

You can smell him a mile off.

- I beg your pardon, young man.

Private inquiry agent.

Quite a respectable mode of life to be in.

I was hired.

- By whom?
- By this Mr. Owen.

- So you met him?
- No, Your Honour, no.

He enclosed a fat money
order with this letter.

He told me to join the
party as one of the guests.

- To spy on us?
- Could be, sir.

Could be.

I run a reputable agency in London,

and I have my credentials.

- Look at the signature on this letter.

"U.N. Owen."

Well, by a small stretch of imagination,

U.N. Owen might stand for unknown.

- Not only has Mr. Unknown

enticed us here under false pretences

he has also taken the trouble

to find out a great deal about us.

- It's a pack of lies.
- Quite fantastic.

- Oh, I don't know.

10 little skeletons in 10 little closets.

- I don't think you'd better
drink any more tonight.

- And I think you're dead sexy.

- Please, Mr. Raven.

You know, I'm still not clear
as to Mr. Unknown's purpose

in bringing us all together here.

- In my opinion, this
person, whoever it may be

is out of his mind.

- Anyway, and whatever his purpose

I think it would be as well

for all of us to leave at once.

- I quite agree.
- Miss Clyde, as you're there

press the bell for
Grohmann, would you, please?

- You're quite right, gentlemen.

We can't spend the night here.

We ought to try and
find a hotel down below.

Grohmann.
- Sir?

- How far is the nearest
village from here?

- 15 miles from the
bottom cable station, sir.

- I see.

Would you be so kind as to
telephone for the sleighs?

We all wish to leave.

- I can't, sir.

The telephone is not working.
- What?

- Can't you get a message
down by cable car?

- No, sir.

There's no one there.

And there won't be until Monday morning

when the sleigh arrives with supplies.

- Monday morning?

But it's only Friday night.

- I'll take the cable
car down in the morning

and try to find some transportation.

There nothing we can do until then.

- Hey, who wants to leave, man?

This is a gas.

Why don't we get to the
bottom of this mystery?

- At our time of life, sir,

we have no desire for
a gas, as you call it.

- What's the matter, judge,
lost your sense of adventure?

Too long in those dusty old courtrooms.

Not me, I'm all for kicks, Your Honour.

Now, I don't know about the rest of you

but that tape didn't tell any
lies about me, my lovelies.

Allow me to confess.

It all happened about
a year ago in London.

I was on my way back from a party.

Late, drunk.

And I was driving fast.

Very fast.

Two people on the road ahead.
- What happened?

- I ran over them.

William and Lisa Stern.

Two years married, very sad.

- Were you charged?
- Yeah, a whitewash job,

but they punished me.
- How?

- They took away my driving licence.

(dramatic music)

- Good Lord.

- See what's the matter with him.

- What's the matter with him?

- The fellow's intoxicated.

Disgusting.
- He's dead drunk.

- No, Miss Bergen, not drunk.

Just dead.
- What did he say?

- He's snuffed it, dead.

(Elsa screaming)

(dramatic music)

- Doctor.
- Judge.

- Insomnia?

- Curiosity.

- Honesty is undoubtedly
the best policy, doctor.

- And you?

- A certain sense of claustrophobia.

A feeling that some sort of macabre

joke is being played on us.

- Good Lord.

10 little Indians went out to dine,

one of them choked himself.

- And then there were nine.

- A macabre joke, you said?

Let me show you something else.

- Don't touch that.

- Mr. Blore.

We thought you'd gone to bed.

- In my profession, gentlemen,

we don't always do what we appear to do.

- Apparently.
- Perhaps it's the

same in yours.
- Why don't you want me

to touch this glass?

- I don't think it'd be advisable

to have your fingerprints on it, do you?

- But they're already there.

- Oh, you've examined it?
- Of course.

- May 1?

- Just a minute.

- Thank you.

- Almonds, doctor.

A solution of cyanide.

How clever of you not to alarm the others.

Suicide, doctor?

- That, I believe, comes under
your profession, Mr. Blore.

(suspenseful music)

- Hi.
- Don't do that again, please.

- I'm sorry.

I couldn't sleep either.

I thought I heard somebody moving about.

Must have been you.

- Glass of milk?
- Thank you.

- By the way, what was said about me

on that tape, it wasn't true.

You do believe me, don't you?

- Of course.

Well, happy days.

- And what about you and that girl?

- Jennifer Hayes?

- That wasn't true, was it?

- What do you think?

- Oh, I saw the light.

I thought it's Elsa, my wife.

- What's the matter?
- She's missing.

I've searched all over the house.

She is gone.

(suspenseful music)

- The car's nearly halfway down.

- Hugh, look.

- It's been cut.

It'll break any minute.

You can't get her back.
- I can't leave her there!

- And then there were eight

and now we are eight.

I told her she had to stay
but she wouldn't listen.

She ran away.

- We're all very sorry, Grohmann.

- Yes, indeed.

Damn sorry.

- Now we're really cut off.

- Perhaps it's what our host intended.

- Well, what are we gonna do about it?

We've gotta do something.
- I quite agree.

The only question is, what?

- We're entirely without
means of communication.

- But surely, when they
see the cable's broken,

they'll send help.

- But that may not be for a few days.

Nobody's due until Monday.

- There's one thing
this fellow Owen forgot.

- If we're cut off, so is he.

He's a nut, and we've got to catch him.

- You mean he's here, hiding
somewhere in the house?

- There was nobody when
we, when we arrived.

- How can you be sure?

He could have hidden
himself before you got here.

- Yes, we must search the
house, organise it properly.

But before we do that

there's one thing I'd
like to say to you all.

Last night we heard a
series of accusations.

- Lies.

False accusations.

Absolute lies.

- Were they, doctor?

I wonder.

One man said not and he's dead.

For my own part I must confess

to a certain degree of guilt.

I was young.

Still only a captain, in fact.

It was an error of judgement .

Five men were killed.

- General.
- No, sir, I wish to speak.

They were killed my
nerve broke, and I fled.

Because nobody knew the truth

I was decorated and promoted.

- How does this help?

- It helps me to be able
to talk about it at last.

It may help you to do the same.

Mr. Owen seems to know a
great deal about each of us.

If we all say just what is in our minds

it might help us to find a common link

which would identify him.

Is there anyone else who wishes to speak?

Very well.

Then we form two search parties.

I'll take charge of one.

Lombard, you take the other.

We'll start at the top of
the house and work down.

Right.

(suspenseful music)

- Blimey, you could hide
a regiment down here.

- Creepy, isn't it?

- Come on.

- Oh, here they are.

Here are the others.

Any success, Mr. Lombard?

- No, nothing.

- We've cleared the top of the house.

There's no one there.

- Where's the general?
- Search us.

- We thought he was with you.

- No, we must have got separated.

- General?
- General Mandrake?

- Here I am.

- We thought we'd lost you.

- Just doing a little reconnaissance.

It's a regular maze down here.

There's so much area to cover

that I think we should vary our tactic

and split into pairs for this.

My dear, will you come with me?

- Ann?

- Shall we go together, judge?

- By all means.

- That leaves me and you.

- Right, we all take different directions.

Judge.

Blore.

Lombard.

Stand by, everyone.

Rendezvous back here in 10 minutes.

Move off.

- The general's having
the time of his life.

- Why did you pick me, Sir John?

- What's the use of carrying

a secret inside you, Miss Bergen

when it turns into a cancer?

- You have no right to talk like that.

- Alone among all of us, I have the right.

You see, we both know what happened

to your husband in Berlin.

(suspenseful music)

- Wait here.

- Miss Bergen?

(lighthearted music)

Miss Bergen?

Who's that?

(suspenseful music)

- [Man] What's that?

Sounds like a cat.
- Hugh, are you there?

- I'm right behind you.
- Doctor?

Doctor, where is everybody?
- Over here.

They're over here.
- Very well.

- Yes, yes.
- Miss Bergen?

General Mandrake?
- Where could they be?

- General?
- Why didn't you wait?

- Let's not get separated like this again.

- Is everybody here?

- Where is the general?

- Don't say we've lost him again.

- He was with you, miss.

- I got confused in the dark.

- Look, his torch.

(screaming)

- Judge.

- Is he dead?

- Yes, he's dead.

- Well, I'd better make certain.

- Somebody already has
made certain, doctor.

(dramatic music)

- Three dead.

No longer a macabre joke.

Apparently Mr. Owen believes
we're guilty of certain crimes.

- Which the law cannot touch.

- The whole thing's barmy.

- Nevertheless, that's
why he's trapped us here

to execute justice?

- I'll tell you one thing,
there's no one in this house.

We've searched the place
from top to bottom.

- No one?

In the sense you mean, no.

But I'm now quite certain
that Mr. Owen is here.

- How can he be?

- An invisible man, judge?

- Not invisible, Mr. Lombard.

But isn't it obvious
Mr. Owen is one of us?

(dramatic music)

- Hey, watch it.

You could cause a nasty accident.

- Blore, have you been in my room?

- What the hell would
I be in your room for?

- Somebody went through my things.

- And what did they find, Mr. Lombard?

- My butterfly net.

(suspenseful music)

(knocking)

- Who is it?
- Hugh.

- Just a moment.

Come in.

I'm nearly ready.

- Take your time.

It's gonna be a long evening.

- Yes.

(lighthearted music)

- What's that perfume you're wearing?

- Mitsuko.

Do you like it?
- Very much.

- Could you help me?

- Sure.

- Hugh?

Do you really think Mr.
Owen could be one of us?

- Yes.

Then it must be one of five people.

- Seven.
- Seven?

- It doesn't have to be a man.

- Do you really believe it could be me?

- Am I disturbing your game?

- I can't think of anyone

I'd rather be disturbed by, my dear.

- Snooker.

It all seems so normal.

- Not exactly, my dear Miss Bergen.

We've come to the conclusion,
the doctor and myself

that this whole story
is a game of the mind.

We've formed a theory, which
I'd like to demonstrate,

if I may with these 10 snooker balls.

Now, eight of us came here, right?

The Grohmanns were waiting for us.

That makes 10.

And one of this is our Mr. Owen.

- The three of the 10 are cleared.

- The dead ones.
- Exactly.

Mr. Raven.

Frau Grohmann.

General Mandrake.

- Seven little Indians.

- Six.

One of them is bogus.

- You're quite correct, sir.

One of them is Mr. Owen.

- But which one?

- Now come the alibis.

What's yours, doctor?
- I resent that, Blore.

I'm a professional man.

- My dear doctor, that
proves less than nothing.

Doctors have gone mad before.

Judges have gone mad.

So have policemen.

And, if I may say so, even actresses.

- Frequently.

In fact, some say the sane
ones are in the minority.

- What about Lombard?

- Yes, indeed.

What about Lombard?

- Is this a private inquisition,
or can anybody join in?

- And what about me?
- No one's excluded.

We're all eligible.

The answer is, we must suspect
each and every one of us.

- Has anybody mentioned Grohmann?

- That's just what I was thinking.

- He did put the tape in the machine.

- Grohmann or his wife could
have leased the schloss

and pretended to be servants.

- [Woman] You're forgetting, his wife

was one of the victims.

- In my time, Miss Clyde, I've
had many husbands before me

guilty of murdering their wives.

- Well, let's have him in
here and have this out.

- No, no, we must watch and
wait and be on our guard.

Otherwise, we'll all go the same way.

(suspenseful music)

And Mr. Owen will be in
this house all alone.

- Grohmann.

It's time you and I had a little talk.

- Do you want to ask me questions?

- Nothing in particular, no.

Plenty of food in the larder?

- Enough for the guests who are left.

- What?

Oh, good, good.

Keep the housekeeping bills down, eh?

- Do you think I could kill three people

from whose death I cannot even profit?

- Now, dear boy, there's
no need to be like that.

We thought you might know a way down.

We can't stay here.

- There's no path you could travel.

- Then there is a way.

- Dangerous even for an expert climber.

You could be sure of death on
the Devil's Leap, Mr. Blore.

- Devil's Leap?

That's well-named.

Tell me, who leapt?

- People who were tired of life.

Is that all?
- Yes.

- Now you might answer me a question.

- Of course.

- How many do you think there
will be for dinner tonight?

(suspenseful music)

- Grohmann, some more wine please.

- I thought you didn't drink, doctor.

- Never touch it except under
difficult circumstances.

Thank you.

For God's sake, when will this ever end?

- Exactly.

Are we going to sit around
trying to guess who is Mr. Owen

while we're murdered one by one?

- There must be some way out of here.

- According to Grohmann, there isn't.

Unless anyone's an expert climber.

Thank you.

Wait.

I've got it.

No, I haven't.

- I wish you'd stop doing that, Blore.

- Well, perhaps I have.

How is Mr. Owen going to
get out of here afterwards?

Anyone tell me that?

- By climbing, perhaps.

- How else?

He wouldn't wait for a rescue party

so how does he plan to get away?

- Climbing?

Well, that lets me out.

- And us, too, eh, judge?

- What about you, Mr. Lombard?

- I've done some climbing.

I guess Grohmann has too.

(muffled speaking)

- You suspect me?

You can go to hell.

- Hey, come on, pal.

Take it easy.

- Grohmann.

(grunting)

- Stop it.

Stop it, you two.

(grunts)

- Hugh.

- Now you asked for it, buster.

(grunts)

(footsteps pattering)

- Disgraceful.

- Not you, Mr. Lombard.

You were absolutely marvellous.

(heavily breaking)

(footsteps pattering)

- You've taken to it, I see, doctor.

- Under the circumstances,
wouldn't you, Mr. Blore?

- That fellow, Grohmann,
we'll have to watch him.

- Leave it to me, Your Honour.

I'll deal with him.

Well, I'm off to bed.

- Good night, Mr. Blore.
- Good night, Your Honour.

- Good night, doctor.
- Good night.

Cold.

- Yes, cold.

Quite cold.

- Lonely.
- And lonely.

Quite, quite lonely.

- It might not be Grohmann.

- It might not be.

- Then who?

- Tell me, doctor, do you
lock your door at night?

- Invariably.

Do you?
- I think I will tonight.

After you, doctor.

- No, after you, judge.

- Let's go together, shall we?

- Thank you.

(suspenseful music)

(footsteps pattering)

(upbeat music)

Go!

(screaming)

- Where have you been?

- To look at the weather.

It's still snowing.

- I know.

I saw that from my window.

- I also wanted some fresh
air before breakfast.

- Yes, talking of breakfast,
where's Grohmann this morning?

Grohmann?

Groh, Grohmann?

Where are you?

- How did you sleep last night, judge?

- Sound as a bell, and you?

Any dreams?
- I never dream.

- I'm happy someone slept well.

I didn't.

- He's gone, hopped it.

- Who's gone?
- Grohmann.

- Grohmann?

Then he must have found
that mountain path.

What's it called?
- The Devil's Leap.

- That's it.

- Perhaps he'll get through and send help.

- I wouldn't count on it.

Come take a look in here.

(suspenseful music)

- Yes, there's another one broken.

- Could be a trick.

One Indian broken.

What does that prove?

- You said yourself that
Grohmann had disappeared.

- Perhaps he has hidden somewhere,

waiting to bump the rest of us off.

Or perhaps, you saw him.

- No, I didn't.
- What's all this about?

- Miss Bergen was outside.

I saw her coming in.
- That's right.

I was on the terrace for five minutes.

- In the snow?
- Yes.

- And you were supposed to
be with General Mandrake

when he was killed.

- Yes, what about that, Miss Bergen?

- Is this a trial?

- I'm afraid Mr. Owen planned it that way.

The tape recording accused you

of killing your husband.

Did you?

- What happened to my husband has nothing

to do with the deaths in this house.

- Then it's true.

- But it wasn't murder.

- What was it, then?

- It started with ambition, I suppose.

That's one name for it.

There are other dirtier names.

No, I won't make excuses
like the rest of you.

(lighthearted music)

I always wanted to be an actress.

I met a young British army
officer from a wealthy family

who I thought could help my career.

I let him fall in love with me

and I married him.

I became an officer's wife.

Oh, it was so dull.

General Mandrake would have
understood what I mean.

- The general?
- Yes.

He was my husband's commanding officer.

I met a film producer in Berlin

where my husband was stationed.

He got me an offer of work in Hollywood

and I decided to take it.

Oh, my husband was a weak fool.

I told him I was going to leave him.

And that he meant nothing to me.

And when I was through he took a shotgun

and blew his head off.

You're all looking at me.

But if Mr. Owen is right

every one of you is a murderer.

(dramatic music)

- One by one, we make our confessions.

Six little Indian boys
playing with a hive,

bumblebee stung one and
then there were five.

- At least there's not much chance

of that happening in midwinter.

- That's true enough.

Well, how about some breakfast, en?

- Good idea.

(crying)

(suspenseful music)

- What do you want?

No.

- Hugh.

Judge.

Mr. Blore, where are the others?

- I haven't seen them.
- Look.

- Five?

Impossible.

- Hugh.

llona.
- What happened?

- Here's your bumblebee

and this was the sting.

- One of yours, doctor?
- Yes.

Must have been stolen from my room.

- Oh, my God.

- You're quite right, Miss Clyde.

We can no longer trust anyone.

(suspenseful music)

- Oh, can't you stop pacing about?

- How you two can play snooker

at a time like this, I don't know.

- What else is there to do?

- It's a game of the mind, Mr. Blore.

Good shot, doctor.

- I think the best
thing for you tonight is

to stay in your room with the door locked.

- It didn't help llona.

- No, it didn't.

Well, then.

I'll stay with you.

- That's very tempting.

But who would make up the third?

- I don't know what you mean.

- Surely it's obvious.

Mr. Owen always manages to
be alone with his victims.

When there's a third person
present, nothing happens.

- Then aren't you a little bit nervous

about being down here alone with me now?

- But we're not alone.

I asked Mr. Blore to keep an eye on us.

He's my third person.

Hugh.

- Blore.

What?

- What the devil's happened to the lights?

- It's a generator.

- Maybe we're running out of fuel.

- We must keep every
light burning tonight.

- Do you know where the generator is?

- Don't worry, I'll find it.

- Do you know anything about electricity?

- I'm a dab hand at most things, judge.

- Don't do that, doctor.

- I'm only trying to save the fuel.

- I should leave it alone if I were you.

- You said you'd watch me.

What's happening to the lights?

- It's the generator.

Where's Lombard?

- Down there somewhere.

- You go to your room and lock the door.

I'll fix the lights.

(footsteps pattering)

- Oh, it's hopeless.

- Where's Ann?
- I don't know.

- What about Blore?

- Blore went downstairs
to find the generator.

What's wrong, doctor?

Oh, I see.

We're alone, you and I.

- Lombard.

(generator roaring)

- Where's Ann?

- Don't come any closer.

- Where is she?
- Keep back.

- If you don't tell me,
I swear, I'll kill you.

- Make another move, and I'll brain you.

- Listen, doctor.

If you are Mr. Owen, tell me.

I promise I won't say
a word to the others.

- Stop playing cat and mouse with me.

If you want to kill the
others, I won't interfere.

I might even help you,
if you'll let me live.

- You trust me, and I'll trust you, eh?

- Well, yes, perhaps.

- That's more reasonable.
- No, no.

Don't come any closer.

- I keep telling you,
she's up in her room.

- If that's the truth,
then we're behaving idiots.

- I still want to be a living idiot.

- Listen.

(footsteps pattering)

- Hugh, thank God.

- Miss Clyde, I told you
to stay in your room.

- What's he doing with that?

- What?
- Oh, it's all right now.

- I'll take you upstairs.

- No, you'll wait till
I fix this generator.

- Well, you better not mess with it

if you don't know what you're doing.

- Don't bother me.

I get it.

(generator explodes)

- You idiot.

- Stay where you are.

- I haven't moved an inch.

- Both of us stay where we
are until the lights come on.

- Do you think they will?

- Why not?

- This is no accident.

Somebody wants the house
in darkness tonight.

But, my dear doctor, Mr.
Owen has made a mistake.

- What do you mean, made a mistake?

This trick of putting out the lights.

It clears two people.

- You and me?

- So now we can trust
one another, can't we?

- [Man] His idea was to keep us in fear.

- And we can form an alliance.

- To catch the murderer.

- Yes.

- Oh, thank you, Miss Clyde.

- Who will speak first?

- I will.

The doctor and I have come
to certain conclusions.

We believe that the
onset of this nightmare

lies somewhere on that tape recording.

- Now what are you two up to?

- We want to hear from
each of you the truth

regarding those accusations.

You'll recall that Mr. Owen

claimed I was responsible for the death

of a certain Edward Seton.

Well, it's perfectly true.

He was hanged, and he was innocent.

- Then why was he hanged?

- He was an evil fellow,
morally reprehensible.

I allowed my own personal
feelings to influence the jury

and I sentenced him to death
knowing him to be guilty

of many crimes but not of murder.

- We've got to speak the truth.

Our fate depends on it.

We are convinced of that.

In my case, the tape
recording didn't lie either.

I operated on a woman,
under the influence of,

I was guilty, all right of being drunk.

- I don't see where this is getting us.

- Sit down, Mr. Blore.

- I didn't kill anybody.

- If I were you, I'd tell the truth.

- We're listening, Mr. Blore.

- All right.

I did put the finger on this chap.

But I was mixed up with a race-course gang

who were out to get him.

I knew he was innocent but
because of my testimony,

they sent him up for 10 years, that's all.

- All?

He died in prison, didn't he?

- Well, how could I
know that would happen?

Who told you?

Wait a minute.

What about you, Mr. Lombard?

What about that girl who was supposed

to be having your baby?

- Don't get so excited, Blore.

Mr. Lombard's not denying it.

- That's the first thing
you've said that I've believed.

- You're not leaving us, Miss Clyde?

- Not yet, I hope.

- I feel so cold.

- My poor girl, you're shivering.

Would you like us to postpone this inquiry

while you fetch a coat?

- Thank you.

- Stay here, Mr. Lombard.
- Why?

- Well, nothing can happen to us

as long as we're all in this room, can it?

- Sit down.

(screaming)
(dramatic music)

(gun fires)

- Who's that?
- Me, Lombard.

- Have you got a match?
- I think so.

- Where's the judge?

- I don't know.

Where's Blore?

- How the devil can
anyone see in this dark?

- Did you hear a shot?

- Sounded like it.

Where have you been?

- Looking for Miss Clyde.

She's not in her room.

- Did you hear a shot?

- It sounded to me like something falling.

- For God's sake, where's Ann?

- Ann, Ann!
- Hugh.

- [Man] Miss Clyde, what happened?

- Don't be frightened, honey.

What was it?

- The candle blew out

and I felt something touch me like.

Like a hand.

- Where were you?

- By my door.

- Hold on.

I'll soon find out what it is.

- Jehoshaphat, what's that?

- That must have been what frightened me.

- Yes, but who put it there?

- Where's the judge?

I thought he was with us.

-So did I.

He was just behind us on the stairs.

- I thought he was too,
until I heard the shot.

- The shot.

That's what he's up to.

It's him.

Yes, the ruddy old fox, I
thought he knew too much.

Don't you see?

He shot at us in the dark.

He'll pot us off like clay
pigeons if we go down there.

- And with that candle, we'd
make a very easy target.

- And we'll soon find out.

Stay back.

Judge, we know you're there.

We're coming down.

- You can't kill all of us!

- Hugh, look.

- Hold this.

It's my gun.

- Yours?
- One shot fired.

- There's not a sound down there.

- Where is he?

- Where's his room?

- Over there.

- Judge?

(suspenseful music)

- He's been shot through the head.

Now there are four.

(dramatic music)

(upbeat music)

- If we all sit together
tonight and tomorrow

until help comes, nothing could happen.

- Until we fall asleep, miss.

- Then the one with the strongest will

and the nervous energy to stay awake

would have us all at his mercy.

- What are you staring at, Blore?

- You're the only one of us who's armed.

- What do you expect me to
do, give the gun to you?

- Perhaps you should give it to me.

- All right, I'll buy that.

- No.

Not to Miss Clyde.

- Do you suspect me, doctor?

- Let us look at the facts.

Let's remember what happened.

Miss Clyde, the judge was
just about to question you

when you left the room,
presumably to get your coat.

Is that true?
- Yes.

- You were terrified by the Indian dummy.

You screamed.
- Yes.

- Well, so far, perfect.

But time elapses, and we find you

at the opposite end of the corridor.

What were you doing there?

- She was scared and
didn't know where she was

going in the dark.

- Perhaps, but if Miss
Clyde hadn't screamed,

we'd never have left the dining room.

- And the judge would be alive.

- Come on.

Wait a minute.
- Herr Lombard.

We know that the judge was
on a point of discovery.

- How?

How do we know what was
in the judge's mind?

- I know.

He took me into his confidence.

Now, Miss Clyde, the truth.

Did you or did you not commit that crime

of which Mr. Owen accused you?

- I don't want to talk about it.

- But you must.

We've all confessed.

All except you.

- That's right.

- Now, come along.

If I recall, it was your sister's fiance.

Did you kill him?

- Will you take my word for
it if I tell you I didn't?

- I'm afraid I will.

- Then you have my word.

And don't ask me any more questions!

- Can't you see she's telling the truth?

- That is precisely her mistake.

- What the hell are you talking about?

- The judge reasoned it like this.

- Mr. Owen enticed us here to
be punished for past crimes.

- Right.

- We three have admitted our guilt.

- Right.

- So we cannot be interested
in the punishment of crime.

- And I could?

I think you've lost your
sense of perspective, doctor.

- Have I, Miss Clyde?

The prime object now is to save our lives.

If you are Mr. Owen
then we shall feel safer

with you locked in your room.

If you're not, well, you'll feel safe.

Go along, Miss Clyde.

- Go on.

- The key, please?

Good night.

Have a good sleep.

- Good night, gentlemen.
- Good night.

You know, this is really stupid.

No, no, you're not gonna keep it.

- I'll take it.

- No, not you either.

- Oh, very well.

We'll put it on this table.

Now no one has it.

- Makes it too easy.

- You're not going to keep it either.

- All right, let's
really make sure of this.

Give me a leg up, will you?

Both of you.

There.

If you insist on locking in Miss Clyde,

it will take two of us to reach that key.

- An excellent suggestion.

- Now we can all sleep in peace.

- Well, good night.
- Good night.

- Doctor, there's one little flaw

in your theory about Miss Clyde.

I could destroy it in four words.

Suppose I said, I am Mr. Owen?

- That would be interesting, but unlikely.

- Maybe.

Maybe you're the one
who would know, doctor.

(suspenseful music)

(screaming)

You may need this.

Ann?

This man you're accused of killing.

- I told you the truth.

- Well, then maybe he never existed.

- Oh, yes, he did.

He was my sister's fiance.

- Was he killed?

- Yes.

My sister killed him.

We were both suspected,
and I covered up for her.

Would you call that a crime?

- Where's your sister now?

- She's in a mental home.

- Honey, I'm sorry.

But don't you see?

Mr. Owen's not infallible.

You don't belong.

You haven't killed your way in.

- And the others have?

And Hugh Lombard has?

- Yes.

But I'm not Hugh Lombard.

- Then what is your name?

- Charles Morley.

You're not a very good detective, are you?

Old Blore spotted it right away.

The initials on my suitcase.

- Then why did you come here as Lombard?

- Well, he was an old buddy of mine.

A short time ago, he committed suicide.

I even knew the girl.

I guess it was conscience
over her that drove him to it.

Anyway, I was going through
his things and I came across

this invitation from Owen.

- In it mentioned the girl,
and I wanted to come here

to find out if he had anything
to do with Hugh's death.

You believe that, don't you?

- Listen.

- He's going away.
- Downstairs?

I'm gonna find out.

Keep the gun.

- I'm coming with you.

- It's either Blore or the doctor,

the one who's not in his room.

Blore?

Blore?

- [Blore] What's going on out there?

- Open up.

- Blore, will you put that thing down.

- Who let that girl out of her room?

- Don't let it worry you.

Come on.

Now we know it's the doctor.

He's downstairs.

- Here.

Wait a minute.

How do I know you two
aren't in this together?

- Don't be a fool.

- I heard him too, Mr. Blore.

- You did?

Taking a bit of a risk,
aren't you, Lombard?

- Drop dead.
- That's not funny.

- Look, he must have gone outside.

- It might be a trick.

- He's not out there.

Let's try the rooms downstairs first.

Keep together.

(suspenseful music)

The red herring swallowed one
and then there were three.

- Maybe he wants us to think he's dead.

- Yes.

The red herring to put us off the track.

There he is.

You can't fool us this time, doctor.

There's nobody here.

Where have you been?

- I'm still looking for the doctor.

I searched the kitchen, and the cellar.

- Oh, yeah?
- Where are you going?

- Outside.

I think I know where the doctor is.

You get Miss Clyde.

I'll meet you out there.

(footsteps pattering)

(suspenseful music)

- What's the matter?

- I thought I heard something.

- It's probably just Blore

stamping his feet with impatience.

- Where is he?

I haven't seen him this morning.

- Outside.

Waiting for us.

- Hugh?

I had the feeling all the time

that there's someone watching, waiting.

- I know what you mean.

- Then you feel it too?

- Yes.

(screaming)

(dramatic music)

Get ahold of yourself, Ann.

There's no mystery about this anymore.

It's the doctor, and he's very much alive.

He must have been looking at
something, and while he was.

But what was he looking at?

No.

- What is it?

What do you see?

- It's impossible.
- Let me see.

- You're going to see.

Come on.

- The doctor.

- He's been dead for hours.

- How do you know?

- Hasn't snowed since last night.

The only footprints are ours.

- But if he was dead,
then who killed Blore?

- Exactly.

Only two of us left alive now.

You.
- And you.

- So this is how it ends, Ann?

- This is how it ends.

Now we come to the truth.

You were a fool to trust me with a gun.

- Ann.

- Another step and I'll shoot.

- Look, in the first place,
I don't want to get killed.

In the second, I don't
want to get bumped off

for someone else.

I told you, I'm not Lombard.

- You expect me to believe that now?

- There's something even
more difficult to believe,

that one of us is Mr. Owen.

- I know I'm not.

It's got to be you.

There's no other explanation.

- If you're so sure then shoot me.

- Don't come any closer!

- I trust you.

Trust me, Ann.

- [Narrator] Ladies and gentlemen.

Let us pause to consider the
point of these two people,

who were learning to trust each other.

Now, for the first time in motion-picture

we offer you a whodunit break.

A brief intermission in which to reflect

who is the murder of eight people.

Is it Ann Clyde, Hugh Lombard

or have eight people really being killed?

Do you think you know the answer?

Don't be too certain.

Why not think about it
for just one minute.

Turn to the person in the sit next to you

and for the next 60 seconds discuss

who the murder might be,
while we refresh your memory

with a few clues.

(background noise drowns out speaker)

- Where is it coming from?

(screaming)

(screaming)

- No, no.

(gun fires)

(dramatic music)

(screaming)

- You may need this.

(bell ringing)

- [Narrator] Your time is
up ladies and gentlemen.

We have given you the
opportunity to solve the mystery.

But we doubt that you guessed right.

Don't be surprised at the
next thing you will see.

(gun fires)

(footsteps pattering)

- Come in, Miss Clyde.

A game of the mind, my dear.

You're here for my last shot.

Don't be frightened.

This is a court of law.

You'll get justice here.

One little Indian boy left all alone,

he went and hanged himself
and then there were none.

It's for you.

- What if I don't agree to hang myself?

- You will.

Do you know, Miss Clyde,

all my life I've wanted to commit murder?

I've had to get what pleasure I could

out of sentencing guilty people to death.

Always enjoyed that, but it wasn't enough.

I wanted to do it myself
with my own hands.

Do you mind if I sit down?

Excuse me, pussycat, dear.

That's a good boy.

Come along, pussycat.

That's it.

I must admit I've been
looking forward to this moment

to be able to tell the
last survivor all about it.

I had one great ambition,

to search for perfect human justice.

The results of which you've seen.

Now, to achieve that, I had to
find an unwitting accomplice

among the criminals invited
here for punishment.

I needed a man whose fear of death

would make him stupidly cooperative.

I convinced the doctor
that to unmask Mr. Owen

I must appear to be the next victim.

Do you remember the Indian doll?

The doctor placed it there.

Your scream was perfect.

In the confusion on the stairs,

I ran up to my room, fired one shot

threw the revolver outside,
where you found it.

I counted on the confusion in the dark

and on the doctor,

who played his part to perfection.

After that, no one could suspect me

least of all the dear doctor.

We made our rendezvous out in the snow

and it was only at the last moment

that he realised what a fool he'd been.

You and Mr. Lombard made
the end more interesting.

I knew that you'd suspect one another.

The only question was who would win.

I banked on you, my dear,
the female of the species.

So you see, the whole thing

was as inevitable as the nursery rhyme.

When rescue finally comes,
there will be 10 dead bodies

and a mystery nobody can solve.

-10?

- Yes, my dear.

I'm an old, sick man.

Received my death sentence a year ago.

Sooner than go painfully and
slowly I choose to leave this

blemished world my own way.

But you can't force me to hang myself.

The only living person found
here with nine dead bodies

will certainly be hanged.

As the last little Indian has to be.

Don't let them hang you, my child.

Do it yourself.

More dignified.

I thought.

Never trust a woman.

- Well, thanks for your advice, judge.

But if we hadn't trusted each other

Why did you trust me?

- Why did you?

I could have killed you.

- On account of the one thing

that Mr. Owen couldn't foresee.

- What couldn't he foresee?

- This.

(upbeat music)