All language subtitles for Agatha Christies Poirot (1989) - S02E01 - Peril at End House Part 2 (1080p BluRay x265 afm72)_Subtitles03_PGS-eng

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What are you doing, Hastings?

What?

No, I'm just waiting
for Stiffie Benson.

We're going to play golf.

But we are in the middle
of a murder investigation.

Just a quick nine holes.

Only, Stiffie rang me.
He's only down here for one day.

Anyway, it's not a real
murder investigation, is it?

What do you mean?

Well, I mean, obviously, whoever
it was killed the wrong girl.

So it does not count?

No, I'm not saying that.

Hastings, after three attempts

had been made
on the life of M. Nick,

Poirot gave his word
he would protect her.

The fourth attempt
apparently misfired.

And Mlle. Maggie Buckley
was killed.

Well, I can see you'd feel
pretty cut up about it.

But it's a dead end, Poirot.

Anybody could have fired
that shot.

Nobody had a real motive

for wanting to kill
either of them, anyway.

My dear Hastings,

already my investigations
have uncovered the fact

that Mlle. Nick was engaged
to the flyer Captain Seton

and that he has probably left
his large fortune to her --

a very forceful motive
for murder, surely.

Now...we have work to do.

I say.

You any forwarder?

Comment?

You are going to get to
the bottom of this, aren't you?

Ah.

I am the dog who stays
on a scent, Commander,

and does not leave it.

Hope my alibi's in order.

POIROT: There are other things
besides alibis, Commander.

You would like, I think,
to marry Mlle. Nick?

I've always wanted to marry her.

POIROT:
Précisément. Eh bien.

Mademoiselle was a fiancée
of another man --

a motive, perhaps, for killing,
n'est-ce pas?

But there would have been
no need.

The other man dies the death
of a hero.

CHALLENGER:
So, it's true.

Nick was engaged
to this Michael Seton.

There's a rumor about it
all over town today.

-Ah.
-Well, I didn't know about it.

Oh, hello, Freddie.

So, neither of you knew

that mademoiselle was engaged
to M. Seton?

Nick's a close little devil
when she likes.

But I understand now
why she's been so nervy lately.

Have you got my watch, darling?

Yes, I -- I got it done
this morning.

It's a bore -- always something
going wrong with it.

You said it kept wonderful time.

Yes.

Well, it does.

It's, uh -- It's just the strap,
the little buckle thing.

I've got a bit of a headache.

I'm going to go and lie down.

[ Lock clicking ]

POIROT:
"Compliments of Hercule...

...Poirot."

Merci, madame.

I sent her some flowers already.

Might send her some fruit,
I suppose.

Ah, the eatable -- it is not
permitted, Commander.

You don't think someone's still
going to try -- Good Lord.

So, on the night
of the fireworks,

you're in the kitchen?

That's right.

You help your wife
with the cleaning up, do you?

That's right.
When there's company, I do.

That's where the lady
was killed --

there by the steps.

I've seen a pig killed once,
haven't I, Dad?

That's right, son.

I liked it.

Dad used to kill pigs
when he worked on the farm,

didn't you, Dad?

I've seen pigs killed.

I liked it.

Young'uns like to see pigs
killed.

Shot with a pistol,
the lady was.

She didn't have her throat cut,
did she, Dad?

[ Clears throat]

They all like that round here?

HASTINGS:
Poor Miss Buckley.

She was in quite a state,
wasn't she?

She didn't seem to have any idea
where she put the will.

Most people have
a sort of secret place

where they keep things
like that.

Mon Dieu.

Are there any secret panels,
that sort of thing,

in the house, do you know?

ELLEN: Well, there is,
as a matter of fact.

I remember being shown it
as a girl.

Only, I can't remember just now
exactly where it is.

In here or in the drawing room.

HASTINGS: Big enough
for someone to hide in?

ELLEN:
Oh, no, sir.

It's just a little cupboard sort
of a place, about a foot square.

Oh.

Thank you very much, sir.

Secret panels?

I like to cover
every eventuality.

POIROT:
Eventuality, hein?

Here's an eventuality for you,
Hastings.

-Oh, who's it from?
-Mme. Rice.

"Darling,
party was too marvelous.

Feeling rather doomy today.

You were wise
not to touch that stuff.

Don't ever start, sweetie.

It's so damned hard to give up.

I'm writing the boyfriend
to hurry up the supply.

What hell it all is.
Love, Freddie."

Dated last February.

She takes cocaine, of course.

HASTINGS:
Driver's license...

dressmaker's bill...

perfectly good dividend warrant.

The young girls nowadays,
Hastings,

they are not properly trained.

Order and method are left
out of their bringing up.

There's a check here for £20
from --

What are you doing, Poirot?

We are searching for the will,
mon ami.

But those are, well,
underclothes, aren't they?

My poor Hastings, decidedly,
you belong to the Victorian era.

Ah.

This is M. Michael Seton...

Yes.

...and his love letters,
if I mistake not.

Poirot,
you really can't do that.

It isn't playing the game.

We are not playing a game,
Hastings.

We are hunting down a murderer.

Here.

You better read them,
as well as me.

Two pairs of eyes are no worse
than one pair.

I don't like this sort of thing,
Poirot.

"January the 3rd.

Darling, it seems
too good to be true

that you should
actually love me."

Oh, look here, lad.

"March the 2nd.

My dearest,
this is pretty rotten,

all this beastly concealment,
isn't it?

But Uncle Matthew has
an absolute bee in his bonnet."

HASTINGS:
I say, Poirot, listen to this.

"Dearest, I'm off tomorrow,
feeling tremendously excited.

By the way, somebody said
I ought to make a will --

tactful fellow -- so I have,

on half a sheet of note paper
and sent it to old Whitfield.

I remembered your name was
Magdala, which was clever of me.

A couple of the fellows
witnessed it."

So you were right --
he did make a will.

Yes, and anyone who read these
letters would know the fact.

HASTINGS:
We looked everywhere.

POIROT:
Try to remember, mademoiselle,

where you last saw your will.

I can't.

You didn't put it in the secret
panel, by any chance, did you?

The secret what?

Ellen said there was one in
the drawing room or the library.

Nonsense.

I've never heard
of such a thing.

Ellen said so?

Mais oui.

But we are wandering
from the subject, hein?

The last will and testament
of Magdala Buckley.

Did you use a will form?

There wasn't time.

I was just going off
to have my appendix out.

Besides, Mr. Croft said that
will forms were very dangerous.

Mr. Croft was there?

Yes. It was his idea
to make the will at all.

He is very helpful,
the excellent M. Croft?

NICK:
Yes, he --

[ Sighs]
What an idiot,

letting you hunt round
End House.

Charles has got it, of course.

My cousin, Charles Vyse.

Ah.

NICK: Mr. Croft said the proper
person to have charge of it

was a lawyer,

so we stuck in an envelope

and sent it off to him
straightaway.

Charles has got it.

He'll show it to you
if you really want to see it.

Not without an authorization
from you, I hope, mademoiselle.

No, I suppose not.

POIROT:
No.

What on earth is the matter?

POIROT:
You must eat nothing

that comes from the outside,
mademoiselle.

Nothing.

You think they're still trying.

You think it isn't over yet.

POIROT:
I think...

...it is not over yet.

Well, even if the murderer
did throw the gun in the sea,

all this is a waste of time.

Poirot says that 93% of all
police work is a waste of time.

Go on?

He's a peculiar so-and-so,
ain't he?

Oh, yes, but sharp.

Go on?

Of course, he's picked up a lot
from me over the years.

Keep your eyes down, lads!

My dear sir, no will has been
entrusted to my keeping.

POIROT: She wrote it herself,
I understand,

on a sheet of plain paper
and posted it to you.

No.

HASTINGS:
Now, look here, Mr. Vyse --

I never received anything
of the kind, Captain Hastings.

In that case, monsieur,

there is nothing more
to be said.

There must be some mistake.

MAN: There you are, sir.
That's sixpence.

-Thank you, sir.
-Thank you.

MAN:
Peppermint rock!

Lovely peppermint rock!

Ah, there you are.

I've got some information
on the Lazarus gallery

I thought might interest you.

Tell me, Chief Inspector.

They're not far off
Queer Street.

A slump in pictures has hit them
badly -- antique furniture, too.

They built new premises last
year and overreached themselves.

Thank you, Inspector.

That's a good motive,
eh, Poirot?

BERT: I just asked her
if she'd made a will,

[chuckling] more as a joke
than anything else.

Yes?

BERT:
She wrote it out then and there.

Who witnessed it?

Oh, uh, Ellen, the maid,
and her husband.

And afterwards,
what was done with it?

We posted it to Mr. Vyse.

The lawyer, you know?

HASTINGS:
You know that it was posted?

I posted it myself right in
this box here by the gate.

Looks all right.

But who is lying, I wonder --

M. Bert Croft
or M. Charles Vyse?

I see no reason
for M. Croft to lie.

To suppress the will would be
of no advantage to him.

[ Train whistle blows I]

What are we doing here, Poirot?

MAN:
[ Indistinct shouting I

Mind your step.

Apparently, Dr. MacAllister is
what they call a woman's doctor.

A gynecologist?

No.

"Woman" seems to be
a general term for "neurotic."

Who is this Dr. MacAllister?

Miss Lemon is trying to tell us,
Hastings.

LEMON: So, I went to his place
in Harley Street.

He's got a nursing home there
and another place in Paris.

I didn't like it.

There was something unpleasant
about it.

-It is respectable?
-Yes.

Very smart, though.

Anyway, I told him
I wasn't sleeping very well

and I was depressed.

Oh.

It was only a ruse,
Captain Hastings.

Oh, a ruse, right.

I managed to chat
to one of the nurses.

She said, "Your Commander
Challenger comes to the clinic

at least once every 10 days."

Does he, indeed?

Miss Lemon, you have done well.

Jolly well.

Who is Dr. MacAllister?

Oh, Hastings, he is the uncle
of Commander Challenger.

[ Train whistle blows I]

The uncle he told us about.

HASTINGS:
Right.

But you should have seen
the waiting room.

Lady Lowestoft was there...

and Mrs. Bindoff.

Blimey.

None of them was with the doctor
more than five minutes.

MAN:
[ Whistling ]

[ Train whistle blows I]

No, no, no, Hastings,
you do not come.

You are going to visit
a M. Whitfield for us.

Who's Mr. Whitfield?

He is the lawyer that Michael
Seton mentions in his letter.

Says he sent his will to him.

Précisément.

I want you to find out
if that was true

and what were the terms
of the will.

What, if all the dibs is coming
to Miss Buckley?

He'll never tell me that.

Then you must use your powers
of persuasion, Hastings.

"Dibs."

[ Chuckles ]

He's in London, isn't he?

[ Sighs]

There is a train to Plymouth
in seven minutes,

and from there, you can catch
the train to London.

The Majestic Hotel,
if you please, driver.

Be kind enough to take this box
for me.

-WOMAN: Mr. Poirot?
-Yes?

There's an urgent message
for you.

Aha?

It's from Dr. Graham.

Will you telephone him
at the nursing home?

He said it was most important.

Yes, of course.

Would you make the call for me
on your telephone?

Thank you.

Grange Nursing Home, please.

I do not like these
urgent messages, Miss Lemon.

I never reply
to urgent messages.

I know they're going to be
unpleasant.

There you are, sir.

POIROT:
Thank you.

Hello. Dr. Graham?

Inspector Japp, it's you?

What's happened?

Comment?

Yes.
Yes, I will come at once.

Mademoiselle Nick
is dangerously ill.

She has been poisoned.

MAN: The chocolates
cut in half horizontally,

MAN: The chocolates
cut in half horizontally,

cocaine mixed
with the filling...

chocolates stuck together again.

How could she be so idiotic?

It was only this morning
that I warned her.

JAPP:
Our killer's a bit cleverer

than you give him credit for.

This came with the chocolates.

"With the compliments
of Hercule Poirot."

I did not write this,
and yet it is in my handwriting.

Copied from the card you sent
with some flowers.

Quite well copied, too.

[ Metal clanking ]

[ Suctioning ]

[ Footsteps approaching I

[ Clears throat]

[ Dog barking ]

How is Miss Buckley?

I have failed, Miss Lemon.

I have failed
utterly and completely.

Mlle. Buckley died
10 minutes ago.

[ Train whistle blows I]

Tickets, please.

Thank you, madame.
Thank you, sir.

Thank you, sir.

Thank you, madame.

♪ She didn't say yes,
she didn't say no ♪

♪ She wanted to stay
but knew she should go ♪

♪ She wasn't so sure
that he'd be good ♪

♪ She wasn't even sure
that she'd be good ♪

♪ She wanted to rest,
all cuddled and pressed ♪

♪ A palpable part
of somebody's heart ♪

♪ She'd love to be
on rapport with him ♪

♪ But not behind a bolted door
with him ♪

♪ And what did she do?
I leave it to you ♪

♪ She did just what you'd do,
too ♪

That's terrible!

I know.

Poor old Poirot.

He must be feeling dreadful.

Oh, he is.

He won't come out of his room.

I wanted him to come to dinner
with me, but he wouldn't.

How did you get on
with that lawyer in London?

Very well, as a matter of fact.

I remembered I'd been at school
with his son.

He's a partner now and so --

Anyway, the upshot is,

yes, Michael Seton did send
a will to him.

And?

He left everything
to Miss Buckley --

millions and millions,
apparently,

because of his uncle dying
just before.

JAPP: Now, I want you to tell me
exactly how and when

the parcel for Miss Buckley
arrived.

A dark-haired gentleman
brought it,

came up in a big red car.

Ah. Lazarus, eh?

And what did you do with it?

I just put it on the end
of the table here.

About half past 2:00, it was.

Everything that comes in
for the patients

is left here
for the nurses to take up.

Well, I came on duty at 3:00 --
well, 5 to, actually,

because I got a lift up the hill
from Dr. Graham.

Anyway,
I took her up the parcel then.

So for nearly one half-hour, it
was left unguarded on the table.

ANDREWS:
Mm.

There was the box of chocolates,

there was a bunch of flowers
from a Mr. and Mrs. Croft,

and there was a parcel
that had come in the post,

and that was a box
of Fullers chocolates, too.

Comment?

A second box?

Yes.
It was a coincidence.

Anyway, Miss Buckley unwrapped
them both,

and your card was in
one of them,

so she said that was all right

and I was to take
the other one away.

Who was the other one from?

There wasn't a card.

But which was the one
that was meant to be from me --

the one that came by post

or the one that was delivered
by hand?

Oh.

Oh, I'm not sure.

Miss Buckley
had unwrapped them both

before she looked inside them.

I really couldn't say.

You left a box of chocolates
at the nursing home

for Miss Buckley yesterday
afternoon, Mr. Lazarus.

Yes, I did.

That was very amiable of you,
monsieur.

As a matter of fact, they were
from Freddie -- Mrs. Rice.

She asked me to get them.

I see.

So you've still got no leads,
then?

Well, I wouldn't say that.

I want to see them hanged,
whoever did this.

She don't want to see nobody,
she says.

Well, you just tell her --

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

Would you please inform
Mme. Rice

that it is her friend,
Hercule Poirot?

[ Clears throat]

She says
will you please go away.

Excuse me.

RICE:
Go away!

How dare you?!

This is a murder investigation,
Mrs. Rice,

not a vicarage tea party.

You sent a box of chocolates
to Miss Buckley yesterday.

I won't be bullied.

JAPP: Two people
have been murdered, Mrs. Rice.

Your friend was killed
with poisoned chocolates.

We have information that you
sent her a box of chocolates.

You think I killed Nick?

POIROT: We have to investigate
every possibility, madame,

even the remotest.

Nick telephoned me yesterday

and asked me to get her

a two-pound box
of Fullers chocolates.

She asked you to get them?

RICE:
Yes.

So I did.

How did she sound
on the telephone?

-Sound?
-Mm.

All right.

Her voice sounded a bit weak.

I didn't realize who it was
at first.

Until she told you who it was?

Yes.

Are you sure, madame,
that it was your friend?

Yes, of course.

Well...

...who else could it have been?

Well, that didn't get us
very far.

I understand nothing, nothing.

I am in the dark.

I am a little child.

Who stands to gain by the death
of mademoiselle, hein?

Madame Rice.

Who buys the chocolates,
admits it,

and then tells a story about
being rung up on the telephone

that does not for one minute
hold the water?

Madame Rice.

No, it is too simple, stupid.

But she takes cocaine, you say.

Of that, there is no mistake.

And there was cocaine
in those chocolates.

She is not stupid.

[ Indistinct conversations I

The killer tried four times
and failed.

The fifth time...he succeeded.

What did he want, hein?

What was going to happen
when Mlle. Nick died

that he so dearly wanted
to happen?

Well, we shall see.

Today, perhaps all will become
clear.

I cannot eat these eggs.

They are of
totally different sizes.

Mr. Poirot?

Yes?

Telephone for you, sir,
in the foyer.

Who is it?

A Mr. Charles Vyse.

Ah.

Things begin to happen, hein?

Excuse me.

When?

This morning?

Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,
no, we cannot wait so long.

Tonight?

Oh, yes, yes.

Au revoir.

It begins.

HASTINGS:
What's going on?

Suivez.

M. Charles Vyse
has just informed me

that this morning,
through the post,

he has received a will signed
by his cousin, Mlle. Buckley,

and dated
the 25th of February last.

What, it's turned up
after six months in the post?

Just at the right moment,
n'est-ce pas?

But does she leave everything
to Mrs. Rice?

Monsieur Vyse
was far too correct

to say anything about
the contents of the will,

but there seems no doubt

that it is the same will

and it is witnessed by
Ellen Wilson and her husband.

Which brings us back
to Frederica Rice.

Such a pretty name -- Frederica.

POIROT:
Mais oui.

Prettier than what her friends
call her, hein -- Freddie?

Ce n'est pas jolie
for a young lady.

LEMON: Well, there aren't many
abbreviations for Frederica.

It's not like Elizabeth,
where you can have dozens --

Eliza, Liz,

Betty, Betsy, Bess.

Thank you, Miss Lemon.
Yes, that's very --

LEMON: Or Margaret --
that has a lot, too.

Maggie, Madge.

Margo.

LEMON:
Peggy.

HASTINGS:
Margie, Meg, Meggie.

Ah, there you are, Poirot.

I've been looking for you.

What's your name,
Chief Inspector?

-Name? What name?
-Your first name.

James.

James Japp.

Jim.

Jimmy Japp.

HASTINGS:
Jamie Japp.

Chief Inspector Japp and I
will leave you to play.

What about Hercule?

Oh, there aren't any
for Hercule.

Herc?

It may be what the murderer
has been waiting for, Inspector,

but we cannot be sure.

Ah, this is a matter of complex
and hidden motives, hein?

And --

Oh, mon Dieu.

What's up?

I have been blind.

Blind!

Complex, I have said?
Mais non.

Oh, the simplicité extréme,
extréme!

And, miserable one that I am,
I saw nothing!

[ Vehicle approaching I

S'il vous plait.

[ Doorbells ring I

[ Indistinct conversation I

This makes a nice change for me.

I'm not a --
Oh, Bert, look.

We're going to sit next to
that nice Captain Hastings.

Ah.

Hello.

Good.

That is all, I think, M. Rice.

In an ordinary case,

the will of a deceased person
is read after the funeral.

In fact, I am proposing
to read it now.

Although dated last February,

it only reached me by post
this morning.

However, although it is
a most informal document,

it is properly attested.

"This is the last will and
testament of Magdala Buckley.

I appoint my cousin,
Charles Vyse, as my executor.

I leave everything
of which I die possessed

to Mildred Croft,

in grateful recognition
of the services rendered by her

to my father, Phillip Buckley,

which services
nothing can ever repay."

Signed Magdala Buckley.

It's true, not that I ever
meant to let on about it.

Phillip Buckley was out
in Australia.

If it hadn't been for me...

Well, I don't want to go
into that.

Well, I think perhaps
you ought to, Mrs. Croft.

Our secret it's been and
a secret it had better remain.

She knew about it, though.

Nick, I mean.

I guess her father
must have told her.

[ Voice breaking ]
But if anyone says

that there is no gratitude
in this world,

I shall tell them that they're
wrong and that this proves it.

I presume, M. Vyse,
that, as the next of kin,

you could contest that will,
hein?

There is, I understand,
a vast fortune at stake,

which was not the case
when the will was made.

I should not dream of contesting

my cousin's disposal
of her property.

MILLY:
You are a very honest fellow,

and I shall see
that you do not lose by it.

Well, Mrs. C., this, uh --
[ Clears throat]

This is a surprise, huh?

[ Crying ]
Dear, sweet girl.

I wish she could look down now
and see us.

Perhaps she does.

Who knows?

[ Sniffles ]

Perhaps.

A little idea.

We are fortunate indeed
to have with us this evening

Mlle. LeMon.

Now, I know that she does not
like to have it bruited about,

but Mlle. Felicity LeMon has the
pronounced powers of the medium.

Now, we are all here.
We are seated around the table.

Let us hold a séance.

Well, I don't --

Wonderful idea.

MILLY:
A séance?

But surely --

-This is nonsense.
-POIROT: No, no.

It will be most interesting.

Why not?

All ready, Mlle. LeMon?

-No, it's --
-I'll turn the lights out.

Now, we must all join hands.

Is that not so, Mlle. LeMon?

Well...

Everybody join hands and...

[ All murmuring ]

Now, please -- If you please, we
must have the complete silence

while Mlle. LeMon
goes into her trance.

[ Chuckles ]

-Do you think you could --
-Quiet, please.

[ Breathing deeply ]

Yes, she is now going
into her trance.

[ Whispering ]
Is there anybody there?

I think it's time
we stop fooling about.

HASTINGS:
Shh.

Is there anybody there?

[ Indistinct speaking ]

Aah!
It's her!

She's come back!

Them that's murdered
always walks!

It's her!

You're real.

I'm real, all right.

CHALLENGER:
Thank God.

Thank God.

Who is responsible
for this farrago, then?

It was I who persuaded Mlle.
Nick to pretend to be dead,

I'm afraid.

NICK:
Thank you so much, Mrs. Croft,

for what you did for my father.

But I'm afraid
you won't be able to enjoy

the benefits of that will
you forged just yet.

Oh, but it was just a joke,
dear. Just a joke.

NICK:
Oh, it really is very funny.

Just a bit of a laugh --
that's all.

That will was a forgery.

Oh, yes,
and a very fine one, too.

You've got nothing on me.

NICK:
Nothing?

You forge my will,

and then
when I don't die to suit you,

you try to murder me.

No!

NICK:
You don't succeed,

but you kill my poor cousin
by mistake, and you say nothing!

We never had nothing to do
with that.

Don't say anything, Bert.
Don't say anything.

-We may have forged the will --
-Bert!

We never had nothing to do
with no killing.

Take them away, Inspector.

Take them out of my house.

Struth, we never had nothing
to do with that girl dying.

Oh, it's so wonderful,
now that it's all over.

Oh, it's so wonderful,
now that it's all over.

I really hated doing it,

deceiving you,
all my nice friends.

As long as you're all right,
really.

I think it's time
for a celebration.

Yes.

POIROT:
Perhaps.

Or perhaps it is time
for the truth.

Chief Inspector Japp?

Early this evening,

acting on information received
from Mr. Poirot,

I concealed myself behind
a screen in the library.

When everyone was assembled
in the dining room,

another person entered
the house.

This person made their way to
a secret panel in the library.

They then took out the object
that was in there

and went out into the hall.

Now, this person comes out here
and does a very curious thing.

They put the object they removed
from behind the secret panel

in the pocket of one of
those coats hanging there.

Mrs. Rice.

Yes?

Just help me out, will you?

Go and look in the pocket
of your coat.

Show me what's in there.

There's nothing in there,
apart from my gloves.

Humor me, Mrs. Rice.

Gloves.

Try the other pocket.

[ Gasping ]

It's not mine.

If you're trying to frame her --

No, no.

Someone is trying to frame
Mme. Rice,

but it is not Inspector Japp
and it is not Poirot.

Merci.

[ Safety clicks ]

Maggie Buckley was killed.
That was inescapable.

But surely it was Mlle. Nick
that someone was trying to kill.

But that did not make sense.

Mlle. Nick loves End House,
hein?

Is that not so, Mlle. Nick?

But she is in desperate need
of money in order to keep it.

So, what good fortune,
she thinks,

when she meets the worthy
young aviator Michael Seton

at Le Touquet.

But he does not fall in love
with her.

He falls in love
with someone else.

This is rubbish.

So an outrageous plan
begins to form

in the pretty head
of our young lady.

And when I think of this,

I think of some silly things

that Captain Hastings
and Miss Lemon were saying,

that there were
many abbreviations

for the name of Margaret --

Maggie, Margo, Madge,
et cetera, yes?

And it occurred to me
to ask myself the question,

"What was the real name
of Maggie Buckley?"

And tout d'un coup,
it came to me.

There were two Magdala Buckleys.

FREDDIE:
Oh, my God.

This is rubbish.
Freddie.

It's slanderous, too.
Charles, you're my lawyer.

POIROT:
Magdala was a family name,

but Michael Seton did not know

that Mlle. Nick
was called also Magdala.

He only knows her as "Nick."

And in his very informal will,

he just says he leaves
everything to Magdala Buckley.

This is untrue.
It's untrue, every word of it.

Voila the person, the person
who shot Mlle. Maggie --

Mlle. Nick.

Are you mad?

Why should I kill Maggie?

In order to inherit the money
left to her by Michael Seton.

It was to her he was
secretly engaged, not you!

It was with her he was in love,
not you!

You silly little man.

You don't know anything.

You're all so stupid!

Let me get my watch.

Come on, then.

She'd never have got away
with it, of course.

My dear Chief Inspector,

she very nearly did get away
with it.

Even Poirot is taken in, hein?

The murder of Maggie Buckley
was easy.

But to make it
doubly convincing,

Mlle. Nick continued
with more tales

of attempts on her own life.

What first put you onto it?

I think...the love letters...

of Michael Seton.

You see, Mlle. Nick stored
only those letters

which did not contain
the name of Maggie.

But there was something else
about those letters.

On the 27th of February last,

Mlle. Nick underwent
an operation for appendicitis.

But there was a letter dated
March the 2nd

from Michael Seton,

and he does not mention it.

She was such a queer
little girl.

She couldn't help herself,
you know.

It's going to be
a very unpleasant business.

I must see about some kind of
defense for her, I suppose.

POIROT:
I think there will be no need.

If I mistake not,
the wristwatch of Mlle. Nick

will obviate the necessity
for a trial.

Because it is there, is it not,
that you concealed the cocaine?

What?

What the hell do you mean?

No, do not try to deceive me,
Commander,

with your hearty,
good-fellow manner.

You make a good thing of it,
do you not,

the trafficking of the drugs,

you and your uncle
in Harley Street?

Now, look here --

POIROT:
What do you think, Inspector,

about the trafficking of drugs?

I'm not keen on it,
as a matter of fact.

I think we'd better go and have
a little talk, Commander.

Good God.

Cocaine in the wristwatches.

Mm.

And that is why she wanted
her watch, n'est-ce pas?

Oh, that's awful.

POIROT:
Indeed it is, Miss Lemon.

But it is better
than the rope of a hangman.

[ Children shouting
indistinctly ]

[ Laughter]

It is satisfying,
is it not, Chief Inspector,

in a case, when at last
one knows everything?

I thought you knew everything,
anyway, Poirot.

Well...

Ah.

There's one for you,
Chief Inspector.

Ah, thank you.

None for Mr. Poirot because
I read an article on the train,

how ice cream was extremely bad
for the little gray cells.

And two for me
because mine are dead already.

[ Laughs ]

They are very amusing,
are they not, Chief Inspector?

Mm-hmm.

The sea air obviously agrees
with them.

I think perhaps
when I return to London

I shall leave them here.

JAPP:
[ Laughs ]

Thank you.

Santé.

[ Laughs ]

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