Original subtitles

No sign of him yet.

We just lost sight

of the prime minister's car for two minutes.

No, 20 seconds.

There was a bend in the road just this side of Datchet.

Yes.

No. Nobody knows at all. We've kept it quiet.

Of course we searched!

Eventually we came on here. What else could we have done?

Wait a minute. Here's the prime minister's car now.

I'll call you back.

Call the Yard. Tell them he's safe.

Then report back to me.

We expected you an hour ago, sir.

What happened?

I'm quite all right.

Commander Daniels will tell you about it.

I... I have to get some rest.

Good night, sir.

Someone tried to hijack us.

But we only lost sight of you for a few seconds.

Oh, they got it all worked out.

Diverted us down a lane. Gang of thugs waiting.

If it hadn't been for Egan there,

I don't know what would have happened.

What did happen?

One or two of them had guns. They were right across the road.

As soon as Egan saw them,

he just put his foot down on the accelerator.

Drove straight at them.

They had to jump for it. I can tell you.

-Well done, Egan. -Thank you, sir.

Unfortunately, one of them let his gun off at us

as we passed.

Bullet just grazed the prime minister's cheek.

-Good God. -It's all right.

I got it bandaged at the hospital.

Well done, Commander Daniels.

Well done.

I wonder what they can have been after, these ruffians, Hastings.

-Who can they have been? -It doesn't say.

Just calls them ruffians.

In the next paragraph, it says "thugs."

Another half-inch on the waist, M. Poirot.

No, no, no, no, M. Fingler.

I am exactly the same size as I was last year.

It is your equipment that is at fault.

My equipment is at fault?

A person could go crazy.

Every year he tells me my tape shrinks.

Shrinks!

-Continue, Hastings. -No, no. That's all there is.

You want to try Savile Row, try Savile Row.

I trained those boys.

-Finished. -Bon.

First fitting -- Wednesday.

And then we shall see if my equipment is faulty.

M. Fingler, should I tell you something?

Tell me, M. Poirot. Tell me. I'm on shpilkes.

You must learn not to kvetch.

I kvetch?

Hey! Clear off!

I see, Marmaduke!

Clear off, Montmorency!

I don't know why you don't go to Savile Row, Poirot.

M. Fingler is an artist, Hastings.

But like all artists, he must be treated with a firm hand.

No, no, Hastings.

One cannot take this as a serious attempt

at assassination.

A bunch of ruffians.

A chance shot with a revolver. No, no.

Mon ami, this is mere enfantillage.

A gentleman called while you were out, Mr. Poirot.

Oh? Thank you, Miss Lemon.

Sir Bernard Dodge.

Hastings, this is indeed an honor.

-Is it? -Oh, oui.

Sir Bernard Dodge, he is

permanent undersecretary of state at the Foreign Office.

He'd like you to call on him at 12:00.

Thank you, Miss Lemon.

Au revoir.

M. Poirot.

Good of you to come.

It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir Bernard.

And you, too, of course, Lord Estair.

Our business is absolutely secret, you understand.

Well, the whole of England will know soon enough, anyway.

We simply have to move as quickly as possible.

Very well.

It concerns the prime minister.

We are in a grave predicament.

The injury, it is serious, then.

No, no. Fortunately, that attempt failed.

I wish I could say as much for the second attempt.

-There was a second attempt? -Yes. But of a different nature.

The prime minister has been kidnapped.

Kidnapped?

But how is this possible?

If we knew that, we'd know everything.

Yes, of course.

You said just now, monsieur, that time is of the essence.

The prime minister's absence

from the League of Nations Disarmament Conference in Paris

could be disastrous.

His is the one voice that can unify Europe

and perhaps stop Germany rearming.

I see.

Well, perhaps this kidnapping is a direct attempt

to bring about this disastrous outcome.

Exactly.

There are people who want Germany to go on rearming.

That is a possibility.

He was on his way to Paris when it happened.

And the conference is to be held when?

Half past 8:00 tomorrow evening.

It is now a quarter past 12:00.

32 hours.

And a quarter.

Do not forget the quarter, monsieur.

It may come in useful.

The prime minister and his secretary

crossed over to France in the early hours of this morning.

An embassy car met them at Boulogne.

They never arrived in Paris.

And that was the last anyone saw of it

or any of its occupants.

It was a bogus embassy car.

I must know everything, Sir Bernard.

I must know also about this shooting affair.

Last night, the prime minister,

accompanied by Commander Daniels --

one of his secretaries --

motored down to Windsor for an audience with the king.

This is the main road from Windsor to Datchet?

Uh, that's right.

The car with the prime minister is forced down that lane

from this main road here, you say.

Apparently so.

-How was it forced? -We don't know.

There was a barrier across the road.

You received this information

from the secretary of the prime minister?

Commander Daniels, yes.

-Who is this Commander Daniels? -Oh, good man.

Served with distinction in the Royal Navy.

His father was a minister in Mr. Asquith's cabinet

until they had a row over home rule.

The car following the prime minister --

the car containing the detectives --

did they see this barrier?

No. The road was clear by the time we arrived.

Mr. MacAdam is very impatient

at any efforts to protect his person.

The car carrying the plainclothes detectives

has to follow at a discreet distance.

They lost sight of him in that bend.

Of course, the barrier could have been removed in seconds.

The thugs are strung out across the road.

The chauffeur sees them. He sees their guns.

He accelerates towards them, scattering them.

Yes.

One of them fires his revolver.

The bullet grazes the cheek of the prime minister.

Yes.

Just think --

One of them is good as runs the Foreign Office.

The other one guards the prime minister.

Why should England tremble, eh?

There's a destroyer waiting at Dover, M. Poirot,

to take us to France.

And this destroyer, it will wait for how long, Sir Bernard?

Well, long as necessary, of course, but...

Bon.

Yes, I know.

Well, it appears he takes his time, sir.

Yes. Yes, I know, sir.

Uh, we have done all this, you know, Poirot.

No blood. No bullet hole.

Does it not strike you as strange, Chief Inspector,

that there is no bullet hole?

But the bullet hit the prime minister.

No, no, Hastings.

The bullet grazed the prime minister.

Why was there no bullet in the car?

Where did it go after it grazed his cheek?

No, no.

Mr. MacAdam's head was outside the car when he was shot at.

When the car slowed down,

he looked out of the window to see what was wrong.

Eh bien.

The car is in the lane.

The ruffians are barring the way.

M. MacAdam realizes that something is wrong.

He opens the window.

He puts his head out of the window to see what is happening.

A shot rings out.

Bah!

I don't know why we're wasting time on all this, Poirot.

The attempt didn't succeed, the kidnapping did,

and that was in France.

Now look here, Poirot.

-The driver Egan, monsieur. -Yes, sir?

I want to speak with him.

I spoke to him last night at Charing Cross.

He is the only witness that we have, Chief Inspector.

He's off till Thursday.

His home address, if you please.

He didn't come in at all last night.

Wasn't I waiting up for him until after 1:00 in the morning?

Is he usually regular in his habits?

As clockwork.

Is M. Egan a fellow countryman of yours, Mme. Dennison?

Sure. He's from County Clare like myself.

He was fortunate, indeed, to find such a comfortable abode

and with such a charming landlady.

How long has he lodged with you?

Six months next Sunday it is, sir.

M. Egan keeps his address book in a place most convenient, eh?

He has his own methods, Sir Bernard.

I don't want method. I want action.

I've never known him to fail yet.

The prime minister disappears.

The Commander Daniels disappears.

M. Egan disappears.

At any moment, I fully expect the entire Cabinet to disappear.

You all right, Poirot?

Yes. Yes, mon ami.

There was a small hotel back there.

It looked quite comfortable.

But the ship's waiting for us.

Ah.

Left, right, left, right, left, right, left.

Where's he off to now?

Well, I think he doesn't want to go on the destroyer.

You know how seasick he gets.

Seasick.

I shall lose my pension if he carries on like this.

When they suggested him, they asked my opinion.

"Oh, yes," I said. "Just the man," I said.

What is he doing?

What is he doing now?

Hmm?

-He's thinking. -Thinking?

What on earth is he doing that for?

Europe is in crisis!

The one man who might avert a tragedy,

the prime minister of this country,

has been kidnapped!

We're not paying your Mr. Poirot to think.

Well --

Be so good as to keep out of this, Chief Inspector.

He's a detective.

And we're paying him --

and paying him handsomely, I may say -- to detect.

What do you expect him to do?

God's teeth. Do I have to teach him his job?

Blood stains, fingerprints.

He's done all that.

When? I haven't seen him.

I haven't seen him so much as look through a magnifying glass.

Poirot is ready.

Do you have that list I asked you for, Chief Inspector?

-Excellent. -Back to the docks.

Back to Datchet.

Don't lose sight of him, Sergeant.

We don't want anybody else getting kidnapped.

Right, sir.

He wasn't the one who went through

that awful divorce last year, was he?

-Who wasn't, Hastings? -This Commander Daniels.

Mrs. Daniels' countersuit

was utterly malicious and without foundation.

Ah, I remember. It was in the newspapers.

It was all over the newspapers.

Now what?

I know what he's doing.

I just don't know why he's doing it.

Well, you're one up on me.

I got him a list of all the hospitals

between Datchet and London.

He's trying to find out which one

they took the prime minister to to get his face bandaged.

Not this one.

Onwards, driver, if you please, to... Feltham.

Yes, sir.

There's a cottage hospital marked here, Poirot,

but it's a bit off the beaten track.

And the driver was missing?

Right. We can get back to Dover in an hour.

We'll be in Boulogne by dawn.

-They found the car in France. -The bogus embassy car?

At an abandoned farmhouse near Cr�cy.

Was there anyone inside the car?

Commander Daniels. Bound and gagged.

With a head injury from where they knocked him out.

They've flown him back to London.

And no sign of the prime minister? Not even his body?

No. Nothing.

So I suggest that we now get over to France

and join the search proper.

It is strange, is it not,

that having tried to shoot the prime minister last evening,

they should now take so much trouble

in order to keep him alive?

Commander Daniels will appreciate

some visitors, I think.

Bang goes my pension.

We've come to see Commander Daniels.

Sir Bernard Dodge and some gentlemen to see you, Commander.

Show them in, Shi Mong.

Then take my bag and unpack it, will you?

Yes, sir.

Gentlemen, please.

Thank you.

Good to see you, Daniels.

Bad show, this.

And I don't come out of it very well, I'm afraid, Sir Bernard.

Nonsense, my dear chap. What could you do?

You know Chief Inspector Japp, I believe.

We met last night.

And this is Mr. Hercule Poirot

and his colleague, Captain Hastings.

How do you do?

We are full of the apologies, Commander,

but this is a matter of the greatest import.

Of course. Sit down, please.

If you would be kind enough, Commander,

to tell us what happened when you arrived at Boulogne.

Well, Mr. MacAdam had managed

to get some sleep on the crossing,

but he was still shaken.

I could tell.

There was a staff car waiting for us on the quay.

Tell me about the driver.

I didn't take much notice of him.

-One doesn't, I'm afraid. -Of course.

We started off for Paris.

We passed through Nampont-Saint-Martin

just as the sun was coming up.

It was about 6:00.

And then?

The last thing I remember was passing through Vron.

I looked at my watch. It was 10 past 6:00.

Then... nothing.

Well, nothing until four hours later

when I woke up in the car in a spinny,

very efficiently tied up and gagged.

No sign of the prime minister.

-Or the driver. -Or the driver.

I managed to get the door open with my feet,

but that's as far as I'd got when a little girl found me.

I must have frightened the life out of her.

There was blood all over my face.

Anyway, she got the local gendarme.

So you remember nothing of the abduction.

I'm afraid not.

Well, this frequently happens, Commander,

as a result of a trauma.

But your memory, it will soon return.

Now, if I may use your telephone?

-Yes. Yes, of course. -Thank you.

Ah, no, no, no.

My friend, he will have retired for the night.

Thank you, Commander Daniels.

You have been most helpful.

Well, I wouldn't say that.

I am preparing a report, Sir Bernard.

Good. Good show, Daniels.

Ah. Mon Dieu. I shall forget my own funeral.

Commander, what hospital did you go to?

Hospital?

To get the head of the prime minister bandaged.

Oh. Yes. I don't know the name of it.

I was busy attending to Mr. MacAdam.

I told the driver to get us to a hospital,

but I didn't pay much attention, I'm afraid,

to where we were going.

I understand. Good night.

-Good night, sir. -Good night.

Now, look here, Poirot.

When we first met at noon today,

I told you how urgent this matter was.

Seems to me you've wasted some 12 hours

meandering aimlessly about the countryside

100 miles from where the crime took place,

talking to people who could have no possible connection with it.

I understand your feelings, Sir Bernard.

I doubt it.

We've now wasted hours

traveling back to London to talk to Commander Daniels,

who, as I could have told you,

was able to tell us precisely nothing.

On the contrary, Sir Bernard.

Now I have to report to Lord Estair.

What do you mean, "On the contrary"?

Commander Daniels was able to tell me

almost everything I needed to know.

-Chief Inspector? -Hmm?

I wonder if you'd be kind enough to do something for me.

If I can.

I want you to check for me two things --

the record of the driver Egan

and the maiden name of the former Mme. Daniels.

Mrs. Daniels?

What on earth can that woman have to do with anything?

Now, look. This is exactly what I mean.

We've dealt with Egan. Egan is old news.

Perhaps.

But, you see, the kidnappers,

they always had one flaw to their plan.

They knew it, and they did their best to conceal it.

But their best is not good enough

for Hercule Poirot, perhaps.

Good night, Sir Bernard.

Where are you going?

To bed.

You don't seem to realize, Poirot,

this is a national emergency.

I do not intend to sleep until the prime minister is found.

I am sure it will make you feel very virtuous, Sir Bernard,

but it will not help the prime minister.

For myself, I need to restore the little gray cells.

Chief Inspector.

If Monsieur MacAdam is still alive,

he will be in Paris in time for the conference.

He never left this country, you see?

I shall go in alone, Hastings.

You sure about this, are you, Poirot?

-Quite sure. -I'm here if you need me.

Yes? Who are you?

Ah. Bonjour, Mme. Daniels.

I am Hercule Poirot.

The Belgian detective.

Madame is too amiable.

What do you want with me?

Madame, I saw your former husband last night.

What a treat.

If he sent you here, you can leave right away.

No, no, no, no.

Madame, Commander Daniels has no idea that I am here.

But he is in great trouble.

Oh, how wonderful.

The police suspect him of a grave crime.

The police?

Well, he hasn't murdered me.

That's the only crime I can imagine Tony

being interested in.

No, madame, it is not murder.

Not yet.

You are being tiresomely mysterious.

Commander Daniels had the means to commit a crime.

He had the opportunity to commit a crime.

But as yet, the police can find no motive for the crime.

Now, you know him better than anybody.

Too well.

Perhaps you can help them?

I wish I could.

Would he go to jail?

God, I'd love to see him go to jail.

You know what that bastard did to me.

Only what I read in the newspapers, madame.

Yes. And didn't they love it?

Madame...

How would you describe the politics of your ex-husband?

Torpid.

He never had a political thought in his life.

How was Mrs. Daniels?

Formidable.

I would not wish to be her enemy, I think.

You must take care, Hastings.

-How do you mean? -I want you to wait here.

When she comes out, I want you to follow her.

Do not lose sight of her for one second.

Telephone me when you can.

Scotland Yard, if you please.

No, sir.

Well, it's not up to me, sir, is it?

Well, yes.

Well, I thought he was just the man for the job.

Come in.

-No, sir. -Thank you.

Well, I couldn't agree with you there, sir.

No. He's not slow. He's thorough.

Yes, well, most of our men are already in France, sir.

Guess who he was talking about.

Modesty forbids, Chief Inspector.

Little gray cells rested, are they?

Indeed. Thank you.

You have the information I asked you for?

Ah. Yes.

Much good it will do you.

"John Patrick Egan."

Born Milltown, County Clare, 1901.

Van driver for removals firm

until he came over to England a couple of years ago.

Joined Ministry of Works as a driver-mechanic

six months later.

Good references. Good worker.

And Mme. Daniels?

Maiden name -- Donahue.

Is that not also a name of Ireland?

Well, sort of.

She's the third daughter of the Earl of Connemara.

I don't understand what you're after, Poirot.

Chief Inspector, did you ever read about

the divorce of Commander Daniels?

I should say I did.

Very juicy.

Hmm.

After such a divorce,

having been dragged through the courts,

humiliated in the newspapers,

do you think the husband would keep on his desk

a framed photograph of his ex-wife?

How well do you know John Egan?

John Egan?

He drove you and the prime minister to Windsor.

Oh, Egan.

Know him? He's a driver.

There are three or four on call for Downing Street.

But you see, Commander, he has not been seen

since he drove back the car to the garage that night.

Really?

Yeah, he did not return to his lodgings.

I'm sorry.

Ah, well. 'Tis no matter.

I'm sorry.

To have disturbed your breakfast.

Erin Go Bragh.

All that we can do is to wait, Chief Inspector.

Miss Lemon, has Captain Hastings telephoned yet?

No, Mr. Poirot.

Alors.

This is all very fine and large, Poirot,

but what if Mrs. Daniels doesn't leave?

Oh, she will have left already, Chief Inspector,

or I am the Dutchman.

Hello? Yes.

Ah. Yes.

Japp. Yes, Cantwell. What's happening?

-They what? -Thank you, Miss Lemon.

Why?

Oh.

What time was this?

Nothing since?

Right.

They've arrested a vagrant in some unpronounceable village.

A vagrant suspected of abducting the prime minister?

When in doubt, arrest a vagrant.

They let him go again.

-Hello? -Poirot?

Yes, Hastings! Where are you?

I'm afraid I've lost her, Poirot.

You've lost her?

He's lost her.

But where are you?

Between Basingstoke and Andover.

Let me get a map, Hastings.

The map, if you please, Miss Lemon.

Between Basingstoke and Andover.

She turned off the main road,

and we went through a village called Spratling.

She must've seen me just after that.

I wonder if the Daniels have any local connection, Hastings.

Go back to the village

and ask if Commander Daniels has a house in the neighborhood.

Or you could try the name of Donahue.

What?

That is the maiden name of Mme. Daniels.

-Lady Imogen Donahue. -And you think --

Yes, Hastings, and call me back when you have done that.

Goodbye.

I'll get onto the Yard,

tell them them to contact the Basingstoke police.

She's the daughter of the Earl of Connemara, isn't she?

You English. You are all experts in the aristocracy.

No, only it was in the papers a year ago.

No. Nearly two years ago.

-What was, Miss Lemon? -There was a big fire.

I can see the headline now -- "Earl's mansion destroyed."

There was a picture of him. Fine-looking man, Mr. Poirot.

Of that I have no doubt, Miss Lemon.

But where was the house?

It was in... Berkshire.

Good. Good.

It was in, uh, oh...

Try, Miss Lemon.

It was called something Hall in a village called...

We can find that out.

Cantwell, can you find out the name of the house

that belonged to the Earl of Connemara

that burnt down a couple of years ago?

Oh, the hall was the same name as the village.

It was a name like -- Batleigh.

Batleigh?

Like Batleigh.

Catleigh?

Datleigh?

Fatleigh?

Gatleigh?

Hatleigh?

Summerscote Hall.

Yes.

Tell that to Captain Hastings when he telephones.

I hope this isn't a wild-goose chase, Poirot.

No, no, no, mon ami.

The only wild-goose chase

they intended us to be on was in France.

And they have been planning this for years.

It was only when they could get

somebody sympathetic to their cause

into the position of one of the drivers for the prime minister

was the abduction possible.

But what is their cause? German rearmament?

Indirectly.

There is a strong element in Ireland

that does not care if Germany rearms

so long as it causes hurt for England.

But how did Daniels get involved?

I understand about his wife.

Seems she was always a bit of a rebel.

The father of Commander Daniels

was violently opposed to Lord Asquith

in the 1914 Irish Home Rule Bill.

That was the end of his career in politics.

I think that this has festered inside Commander Daniels

all of his life.

He did not take so much persuading.

Just a few hours more.

In four hours, they'll have voted in Paris,

and it'll be too late for the prime minister

to do a thing about it.

Anyway, what's it got to do with Britain if Germany rearms?

We're just coming into Summerscote now, sir.

Right.

There's a turning on the left,

just on the other side of the village.

Sir.

I thought this place was Summerscote, not the Somme.

All right, lads. Keep the noise down.

They're all ready.

-Very well, Major. -Thank you, sir.

Carry on.

Left, turn.

I'm sure I heard something.

Maybe it's your husband.

No. Must have been the wind.

From here we can see everything.

Seems I may owe you an apology, M. Poirot.

No, no, Sir Bernard. You were cleverly misled.

How did you get onto it?

Whenever the occasion arises, Sir Bernard,

to look into someone's address book,

always first look under the letter "X"

because that is where the secrets are kept.

In the address book of M. Egan which I found under his pillow,

under the letter "X," there was only one number.

No name. Just "X."

It was a Mayfair number, which I thought strange.

But when I pretended to use the telephone of Commander Daniels,

I noticed that his number

was the same as that in the address book.

Oh, no.

My friend, he will have retired for the night.

An interesting connection, n'est-ce pas?

Excuse me, sir.

-All in place now. -Go easy, Major.

We don't want anybody getting hurt.

What's that?

There is somebody out there.

Poirot!

We caught him trying to get through the cordon.

What is all this, Daniels? Have you gone mad?

Let me go to Imogen.

You're a traitor, Daniels! A disgrace!

Let me go to Imogen.

Police. Police everywhere.

And soldiers. They've sent the army out for us.

Jack, I'm not going, but you must.

I'll create a diversion for you.

Come out!

One by one!

With your hands in the air!

-What will you do? -There's no way out!

-I don't know. -Give yourselves up!

Perhaps there's still useful things I can do for Ireland.

You don't stand a chance!

Give me the gun.

Come on. It'll be worse if they take you with it.

Good luck.

I'm going to count to 5!

1!

2!

3!

4!

5!

On the tower!

It's Mrs. Daniels.

Here! Come back!

-Watch out! -Stop him!

Erin Go Bragh!

Don't!

Yes.

Erin Go Bragh.

"Ireland forever."

Sir! There's the prime minister!

Go help him!

The only thing I don't understand

is how you knew it was a double they sent to France.

When I ascertained that the net result

of the supposed assassination attempt

was that the prime minister went to France

with his face bound up,

it was then that I began to comprehend.

But the man who impersonated the prime minister

was seen by everyone.

No, no, Hastings.

He was not seen by anyone who knew him intimately.

And with his face bandaged? No.

But now, mon ami, a far more difficult case --

a fitting with M. Fingler.

So the Daniels' divorce was just a smokescreen.

The purest theater, Hastings,

to ensure that the last thing anyone could suspect

was collusion between those two.

They loved each other, yes.

But they were willing to sacrifice that

and everything else for their cause.

You know, Hastings, the worst kind of fanatic

is the quiet, unobtrusive fanatic.

And the worst kind of customer

is the customer who can't keep still.

M. Fingler, this jacket, it is too tight.

Oh, it is too tight, is it?

Yes. I shall scarcely be able to button it up.

Do you know why it is too tight?

-Because you made it too small. -No, no, no.

Because you have grown too big.

This jacket has been made by last year's measurements.

Now, are we having a fitting or what?!

A fitting, by all means, M. Fingler.