All language subtitles for 01. How Does Your Garden Grow

Thank you.

What are you doing?

You know, it's dangerous.

I could see you.

Good.

Only not here.

Thank you, Mr. Poirot. A most discerning
choice.

You are most kind, Mr. Trumper.

You will send the account to my address,
if you please.

Why, yes, of course. Mr. Poirot, if I
may ask, is there a special occasion?

Oh, yes, a very special occasion indeed,
Mr. Trumper.

I am about to become a pink rose.

I thought it might have been a touch of
food poisoning. Heavens no.

Just normal digestive trouble for
someone your age.

I'll prescribe a powder to settle the
stomach.

And remember, keep off chocolates,
shellfish and fried foods.

All your own favourites.

I'll have the powders for Katrina to
collect this evening.

What's the trouble?

Not you.

Where's Katrina?

Madam. Katrina.

The post.

Oh, yes, madam.

Oh, thank you.

Only two for Aunty today.

Nothing much to bother her with.

She wants to have them now.

As you wish.

And mind you keep your eyes to yourself.

Quarrow, time's getting on, you know.
They're waiting for you. One moment

longer, Hastings.

He went straight inside as soon as he
came back from the shops.

Didn't even read his letters.

Strange.

Perhaps he's dyeing his hair.

But he's a man.

What was that, Hirsten? Oh, uh, fine.

Eh bien.

Let us put our vast feet forward.

I can't imagine why you're so keen on
coming here.

You know Mary takes care of the garden.

Nevertheless, it does belong to me.

But, Mary Auntie?

As was the certain bill I received this
morning from the wine merchant for

spirits. I've already spoken with Henry
on that subject, Aunt Amelia.

Now, where are we going first?

I don't know where you're going, but I
have a sudden fancy to see the roses.

Do you know?

And so it is with a deep honor that I
salute this most beautiful of flowers,

which shares my own humble name.

Thank you.

Of course, I would have expected you to
be a polyanthro rose rather than a

hybrid tea.

The scent is much stronger, you know.
Ah, perhaps, but mine are magnificent by

them.

Sunny day, amiable company, a rose that
bears his name. What more could a man

have?

Hay fever.

A hay fever? A room de froid?

Over -hasting.

I haven't got a handkerchief I could
borrow if you borrow. This one's getting

bit damp.

Unfortunately not.

I still don't think we should leave
them.

Do forget it, Henry. What are you
worried about?

Well,

that girl, she... I wonder if they have
a bar in this place.

Stop,

stop, stop, please. What is it?

I feel quite giddy. It must be the heat.

Would you get me a glass of water?

Of course.

Leave me here.

I can look at the seeds.

Don't worry, I shall be quite all right.

No dawdling, mind.

Pardon, madame, please allow me. No,
it's my fault. My attendant has left me

a few moments. Thank you.

Oh, it's Mr.

Poirot, surely.

That is correct.

I was quite bedazzled. It all looks so
beautiful, doesn't it? Ah, an

inspiration. You have a garden of your
own?

One day I hope to retire to grow the
vegetable marrows, but until then I have

only the window box. Ah.

Take these, with my compliments.

Oh, no, really, madame.

Miss... Miss Barrowby?

Amelia Barrowby?

Please, I insist.

I'm sure you'll find them quite a
revelation.

Oh, madame, you are most kind.

Thank you.

Well, where have you been hiding? You've
been ages. It was very crowded.

What's happening?

Are you all right? Yes, I'm perfectly
all right. I'm quite well now.

Well, get rid of that water and find my
husband.

Now, let's see what ideas I can find for
my water, shall we?

Fuchsia Trifila Floor Cocconeo.

Discovered by a French missionary in
1703.

He's most interesting, Chief Inspector.
How is your hay fever?

Oh, much better, thanks.

Here you are.

Thank you.

What's this?

Oh, that is a gift from Anna Barra.

Mademoiselle Amelia Bellaby.

Really?

I don't think you'll be getting many
blooms from this lot, though, Poirot.

Did you not have a good variety?

Oh, yes, one of the best.

Thing is, there's no seeds in it.

Oh, you're home, madam.

I was worried about the supper.

Don't worry, Lucy.

We haven't forgotten your night off.

Who is it this is?

Ronald Coleman.

Will Miss Katrina be dining?

Yes, you just had a little errand to do.

There

we

are. Should do the business.

Thank you.

Good evening, Miss Clement.

Mr. Quarrel.

This morning's post, still on your desk.

Thank you very much, Miss Clement.

I just can't understand it. I've never
had this trouble before.

I cannot say with certainty that I have
noticed it.

I did have a bit of a stick with an
allergy once, but I was... Didn't that

rash, perhaps?

She's most intriguing.

You know, what I don't understand,
Poirot, is why someone would want to

an empty packet of thieves.

Well, perhaps this will be the answer to
your question, Hastings.

A letter from Mademoiselle Emilia
Baraby.

From the same woman.

It seems strange you didn't mention
writing to him.

Yes, indeed.

Listen to this.

Dear Monsieur Poirot, I hope you will
forgive the form of this letter, but I

have to be very careful.

For some time now, I have been concerned
that something is very wrong in my

household.

When age began to catch up with me, my
niece, Mary, and her husband agreed to

take care of me in return for a roof
over their heads.

It's all there, madam.

Oh, and the super fish par on a low
light. Thank you, Lucy.

Mary runs the house efficiently enough,
although her husband Henry has one

particular weakness of which I
thoroughly disapprove.

Then, about a year ago, I had cause to
engage a young Russian girl as my

companion. Oh, there you are. Tell my
aunt we'll have supper directly.

I am assured, from your description,
that you are discretion itself.

Even so, I hardly dare set down the
matter that is troubling me.

My worry is that if word of my
suspicions reach the wrong person, I

fear what might happen.

Henry?

Come here, darling.

For this reason, I must continue to
behave as normally as I can.

in case this person should take fright.

Madame.

What doth he put into these things?

What we are about to receive, may the
Lord make us truly thankful.

If you will help me, perhaps you would
call and speak with me at the above

address as soon as possible.

Yours very truly, Amelia Parley.

Curious.

Oh, that's a bit dotty if you ask me.

Why didn't she just tell you about it
when she met you?

The old lady is unaccompanied for the
moment.

She's frightened she may be discovered.

She passes to me a harmless packet.

Probably has an active imagination.

A lot of old dears do.

Rosebank, Sherman's Green. Where is
that?

South.

Borders of Surrey.

Greenfields, certainly.

Not sure I like the sound of that.

Eh bien, at the first thing tomorrow,
Miss Lemon, I would like you to

me on a visit to Mademoiselle Amelia
Baraby.

If you wish, Mr. Poirot.

Madame, please!

Please, what is it? Get away from her!

Leave her alone! Get away!

You've done nothing.

You've done nothing.

She's so sweet. Oh, my God.

Get the doctor. What? Get the doctor,
you idiot.

Quick, please.

I'm afraid she's not here.

No, he's not here either.

They've gone down to Charman's Green.

I'm sort of holding the fort as I can't
risk the pollen.

Pardon?

Oh.

Well, I'm sure she meant to pay it.

Hang on, I'll dig out the bill and have
a look.

I'll just be a moment, Mr. Trumper.

Perhaps you would have the goodness to
wait.

We'll be requiring a receipt upon pay.

A receipt?

I wonder... What is it, Mr. Poirot?

I'm not certain, Miss Lemon.

A most orderly garden, is it not?

Very neat.

They should have finished that edging,
though.

Hmm.

It is like your English nursery rhyme,
Miss Lemon.

Mary, Mary, quite contrary.

How does your garden grow?

With silver bells.

Oh, pardon.

I fear that this has been dropped in
your garden.

That's where it got to.

Must have been dropped what with...
Thank you, sir.

Je vous en prie.

Is Mademoiselle Baraby at home?

Oh, sir.

Didn't you know?

It was last night she... I'm afraid she
died, sir.

If you just wait here, sir.

Thank you so much.

You are a lawyer.

Why should I be a lawyer, mademoiselle?

I thought perhaps you have come to say
she did not know what she was doing.

That is not right.

She wrote it down, and so shall it be.

Mr. Poirot, I'm so sorry.

May I introduce myself?

Mary Delafontaine.

Madame. This is my husband.

How do you do?

Monsieur?

Barabie with my aunt.

I very much regret, madame, that I
intrude on your bereavement.

Oh, please, be reassured. It was rather
unexpected.

Hercule Poirot.

You're that detective, madame. Monsieur?

Of course, the new rose.

I saw you at the flower show.

What brings you to our house? Oh,
forgive me, madame.

Mademoiselle Baraby had written to me a
letter and she wished to consult me on a

certain matter.

What matter?

That was of a private nature, madame.

You didn't mention Rasky, did you?

Pardon? Rasky?

Bolsheviks, the red men.

Henry, please.

Sorry, I just thought... Well, Mr.
Poirot, couldn't you tell us a little

Well, Mr. Poirot?

At the present moment, madame, I regret
that I must say nothing.

Forgive me. I will show myself out.

Au revoir, madame.

Monsieur.

There is a mouse in this hole, Miss
Lemon.

What must the cat do now, huh?

I'm sure I don't know what that means,
Mr. Quarrow.

Where to now, sir?

You tell me.

Chief Inspector?

I noticed at once that your men, they
were making the surveillance.

Family doctor put us onto the whole
thing.

When I phoned Captain Hastings, he told
me you were on your way here.

I trust you didn't blow the gaff to the
de la Fontaines.

As far as they're concerned, we're just
waiting for the post -mortem. So you

suspect as I do.

We're doing our own little test, Roy.

Down at the mortuary.

Perhaps you'd rather wait in the taxi,
Miss Lemmon.

No, thank you. I did help in the
hospital mall during the war.

More findings, Lemmon?

Mr...

There's no doubt whatsoever.

Strictly. A very large dose.

Which would have to be administered very
shortly before death.

Precisely.

Right. We'd better find out what they
all had for dinner.

Miss Lemon.

Artichoke soup, served from a tureen,
fish pie and apple tart.

I was chatting to the maid. She had some
time off to see a film. All four of

them ate the same thing.

Excellent, Miss Lemon.

Can't have been in the food, then, if
they all had it.

Must have flipped it to the old girl
separately.

No, no, Chief Inspector.

That cannot be.

Eh? He's right.

Strychnine's as bitter as gall.

You can taste it in a solution of one in
a thousand.

Coffee? She never drank it.

Well, I'm angry if I can see how anyone
did it.

Nevertheless, Chief Inspector, someone
in that household is a cold -blooded

poisoner.

I feared it might be this.

I've seen something like it once before
in my old practice.

Oh? Rich old Biddy takes in her
penniless relatives, holds the purse

The temptation is to speed up the
natural process and collect.

So the de la Fontaine's, they were
dependent on the money of Mademoiselle

Beverly? Totally.

Hadn't a pain of their own.

Dabbled in stocks and shares, I'm
afraid.

Crash hit them as badly as any of us.

And they're her only living relatives.

Certain to inherit.

Substantial private income, by all
accounts.

Excuse me, Monsieur le Docteur.

Was Mademoiselle Barabie taking the
medicine of any kind?

Not much we can do for her at that age.

Just a cachet before meals to aid the
digestion.

Ah.

Oh, no, it couldn't have been about us.

Katrina guarded those like a demon.

Or perhaps she slipped in the poison.

Why?

Katrina wouldn't poison her mistress.

Much better keep her alive than remain
employed.

She wrote it down and so shall it be.

She what?

Possibly nothing.

Well, one thing's for sure.

The Diller -Fontaines have got to be
told that this is now a murder

investigation.

Tommy Poirot?

No, no, no. Not for the present, Chief
Inspector.

Doctor?

Tell me, Dr. Sims.

Didn't Mlle. Baraby have a solicitor?

I understand the problem, but I'm not
due to read the will until next

The girl said to me...

She wrote it down, and so shall it be.

Have you any idea what she meant by
that?

I'm afraid I'm bound to remain silent.

Mr. Harrison, please forgive me. I am
not asking you to break the

confidentiality of a client.

However, it is unfortunate that it suits
the purposes of a murderer.

Numbers 3, 9, and 14, please.

It's rather a difficult decision, this
one.

These two are well known to everyone.

The mare and the gelding.

Solid, reliable.

And then there's this.

A young filly, foreign bloodstock,
unconventional.

A new arrival in a close -knit stable.

And which will win the prize?

A new arrival, Winsett.

Mr. Harrison, I thank you.

Justice has been seen to be done.

Mr. Lemmon.

I'll have you pounding the beat again
for two pennies. I've never known a more

dozy pair of layabouts.

Chief Inspector, wire up.

They bring the bad news.

Well, I've had my fair share of that for
the day.

It is not the Delafontaines who inherit
the money, it is the Russian girl,

Katrina Rager, and she was aware of the
fact for all of the time.

Do you hear that?

If there wasn't a lady present, your
ears would be burning so much they'd

what's left of your brains.

But what has happened?

They've only gone and let her slip out
of the place.

Katrina Rager has gone missing.

Murder? What? It's so unthinkable.

I just didn't... Henry, I should have
listened to you. I'm sorry.

I never did trust that girl.

Oh.

I think I'll faint.

Eat early.

Thank you, Doctor.

A lie down would be the best idea.

It's been a shock for us all.

A little bit of Russia in our green and
pleasant land, eh?

Most interesting.

Tell me, Chief Inspector, do you know
which is this particular scent?

All these foreign bearded types look the
same to me.

Does it matter?

Possibly not.

Let's rejoin the others.

You've given her a mild sedative.

Thank you, Doctor.

It's been quite an experience.

Ah, Mr Poirot.

Chief Inspector.

Monsieur le Docteur.

Goodbye. Goodbye.

Never liked that girl.

Secretive. You suspected that
Mademoiselle Baraby had left to her

Oh, that I'm not sure.

Well, there's always a threat.

Sir?

In the Russian box.

Hmm.

Looks like strychnine to me, all right.

If I'm any judge, all Miss Ray could be
collecting is a trip to the old Bailey.

If that is her name.

What do you mean?

Communist agitator.

Spreads trouble, raises money, working
for the revolution in England.

Oh, come off it, sir. That's boys' own
paper stuff.

No, no, no, Chief Inspector. I fear that
Monsieur de la Fontaine is quite right.

Well, check again.

There is no possibility of error in the
state information files.

She must be registered. She's been
living here three years.

Comrade Stalin makes no provision for
mistakes.

We know no one called Katrina Rager.

Thank you.

You've been a great help.

One more thing, monsieur.

What was it that Marx called the opiate
of the masses?

Popular fiction, comrade.

Ah, yes, of course.

Thank you.

Looks like you could be right, Poirot.
She must be one of those agitators.

Why else would they deny all knowledge
of her?

Probably back in Russia by now.

I do not think that she would enjoy
that.

She's a red, isn't she? I hardly think
so, Chief Inspector.

Not with an image of the late Tsar on
her dressing table.

But you said... That Monsieur de la
Fontaine is right? Oh, yes.

Rager is not her real name.

Well, what do we do now? If I were you,
Chief Inspector, I would look for the

Russian church in London.

The opiate of the masses is religion, as
the young man fully knew.

And now... it is time for my tea time,
Miss Lemont.

Chief Inspector?

Mr. Trump has flown three or four times.
He's really very up there.

Perhaps I should send the cash round by
messenger.

Five guineas will settle the account.

Certainly not, Captain Hastings. Just
ignore it. I'll have words with him when

return. Yes, but... And on no account
disturb the files.

Bye for the moment.

Miss Salmon, I want you to think of your
several years of history.

Mr. Poirot?

You are a Russian girl.

Yes. And you are employed as a nurse
companion to an old lady who is very

demanding. Yes.

And she takes a liking to you, this old
lady, and she decides to leave you all

her money.

She tells you so.

But there is one worry.

You have not been entirely honest about
your background.

Then, disaster.

You suspect that she has called upon the
services of a famous detective.

You act swiftly.

And before he arrives, this detective,
the old lady is dead, and the money is

yours.

Doesn't it sound to you reasonable?

I'm rather afraid it does.

I agree.

If only we could be sure of what
Mademoiselle Baraby was suspicious of.

If only she could have left us more of a
clue.

you sure she didn't slip something into
the seed packet?

No.

Of course.

What a pimpleton I have become.

Oh, for a... Here it is.

Russian church, not a sparrow's hope for
me. Excellent.

But first, if you please, Miss Lemon, do
you have two pennies?

For a tip, Mr. Poirot?

For the telephone, Miss Lemon.

Bonjour, Mademoiselle Riga.

No, Mademoiselle.

Be not alarmed.

This is sanctuary.

You are safe here.

I want only to know the truth.

Why did you run away?

I know what you all think.

It was I who poisoned the hair.

Oh, yes, I know these signs. I have seen
it in Russia.

When Stalin's men came.

Your family was persecuted because of
their position, so you fled secretly to

England.

What do you care?

Like them, you wish me to be penniless.

This I must know, mademoiselle.

Did no one touch the medication but you?

I would rather have died.

And mademoiselle Baraby had for her
dinner only what we know?

Of course, or somebody would have
noticed.

It must have been a great trial for a
girl like you to work for another.

Fetch this.

Carry that.

When once you had servants of your own.

I am a Regimeroth.

I am not afraid of work.

And are you afraid of the Nooth?

It was on the seed packet all the time.

Catherine the Great.

Or in Russian, Katrina.

I realised on the way over.

Here he comes.

I will go with you now.

Take her and charge her.

Well, at least she came quietly.

There's a nice tidy end to the whole
business.

I do not think so, Chief Inspector.

Come soon.

Hello, Poirot. Miss Chapp. Miss Leavitt.

How goes the sneezing, Hastings?

Look here.

This package arrived for you. It seems
to be full of old letters.

Ah, thank you.

Thank you.

Now, look here, Poirot.

I can't for the life of me see what's
bothering you.

The girl saw you talking to the old
Vinnie. She knew something was up.

She had the motive and she had the only
opportunity.

We know without a doubt who did it.

Oh, yes. We know that, I think.

What are these, Poirot? These are the
written letters that Madame Barabie

to her accountant.

And this is the letter that she wrote to
me.

If you look very carefully at things,
you will note in the handwriting the

important but subtle difference.

So Katrina swapped her mistress's letter
with the one she wrote herself.

Oh, Hastings, how I have missed your
powers of deduction.

No, the one thing that bothers me is the
proof of how it was done.

We have that, don't we?

Captain Hastings, what is this?

Ah, yes, I was going to explain about
that.

I told you not to pay this account.

Well, Mr. Trumper was very persistent.

But you don't know tradesmen.

If you pay in cash, they'll never forget
you.

They'll think your checks aren't good.

Of course.

We will make another visit to Chalmers
Green.

You also, Miss Le Mans. Bye, Mr. Poirot.
Oh, yes.

I want you to pay a visit to a
fishmonger.

You've recovered from the shock now?

Thank you, yes.

It's all been rather an ordeal.

Ah, good afternoon.

Good afternoon.

Madame.

Monsieur. What a pleasant surprise.

Now I can thank you for all you've done
behind the scenes. Je vous en prie,

madame. Merci, mademoiselle.

Please, this is ours. Ah, thank you,
monsieur. Ah, an unpleasant business,

And not a simple one.

Now that it's all over, perhaps you take
us into your comfort.

Yes. What was it? A bullshit plot.

They played their part.

But... As you know, Mademoiselle Baraby
had written to me.

But she dared not to confide to me her
exact worries in case that letter had

been intercepted.

But then, you know, wonder upon wonders,
she catches sight of me at the flower

show so she contrives the brief meeting.

Oh, pardon, madame.

Please allow me. No, no, no. It was my
fault.

Thinking that I had already read her
letter.

She spoke to you?

Oh, yes, but you see, madame, here was
her problem.

She might be watched.

She might be overheard.

So she passes to me an innocent packet,
which is a clue to that which she

suspects.

A clue?

Yes. In fact, monsieur le docteur, it
was something that you said that finally

made it clear to me the significance.

Of the package.

Stucks.

I telephoned to the accountant of
Mademoiselle Baraby in the city, who

that during the recent months,
Mademoiselle Baraby had been moving into

ventures of most high risk, as these
letters of instruction to her broker

proved.

Except, these letters, they were not
written by Mademoiselle Baraby. No, no.

They are the forgeries of the most
careful.

Damn, what bullshit.

What unrathering news is this?

Ah, yes.

Monsieur de La Fontaine, you attempt to
confuse me with your ridiculous stories

about spies.

Mademoiselle Rega is a Russian
aristocrat, not a communist.

In truth, Monsieur de La Fontaine, you
have been trying to conceal a most

devious murder.

Sorry.

Mr. Poirot.

Is this melodrama essential?

When I first came here, Monsieur le
Docteur, this beautiful garden, it

me of your famous English nursery rhyme.

Mary, Mary, why contrary?

How does your garden grow?

With the silver bells and the cockle
shells and the pretty maids all in the

road.

Except there were not cockle shells that
were used in the border of the garden.

They were oyster shells.

The favorite but forbidden treat of your
aunt, were they not?

Madame de la Fontaine, you also saw me
at the flower show, but you could not

raise a discovery. Therefore, sometime
you had once again been speculating with

the stocks. Only on this occasion,
madame, with the money of your aunt.

I believe you are also speculating, Mr.
Poirot.

Where is your proof?

Ah, yes, madame, the proof.

I'm afraid the fishmonger remembers you
buying the oysters on that day.

You see, madame, you were foolish enough
to pay cash.

He's got us, Mary.

You idiot!

Mary!

Mary!

That miserable Russian rat!

She was going to get everything,
including my garden!

My garden! So you would plant the poison
in her room and send her to her death?

What does it matter? She's a little
fool.

Keep back!

Oh, yes.

That jelly of a husband of mine tried to
talk me out of it.

But it was so deliciously easy.

Auntie always had a weakness for
oysters, but the doctor disapproved.

It was simple to produce them as a
secret treat.

She swallowed them so quickly, she never
noticed the taste of the strychnine.

The only problem was to disperse the
shells, though Lucy would have noticed.

And edging on the flowerbed was perfect.

It also provided a resting place for the
bell, always ringing over and over.

And so it is, Mother.

Not quite.

Sorry, darling.

You fool!

You condemned me to a gallows!

Mr. de la Fontaine?

Bravo, mademoiselle.

You are indeed as brave as you claim.

And now you are free.

Free. Your young friend, he's waiting.

Thank you, Monsieur Poirot, for not
betraying us.

One day we shall be truly free.

That's true, miss.

Take us to...

They're rich.

That's why it means she's the Queen of
Sheba.

Good evening, Hastings.

Hello there, all.

Up to you, Hastings. What are you doing?

Oh, that's fun.

No, no, it's all right. I was right at
ninepence. It wasn't hay fever, after

all. Certainly sounded like it.

You remember I said I had an allergy
once before?

Well, I remember what it was.

An aunt of mine was fond of a particular
French lady's perfume.

Eh? Every time I went near her or in the
room where she'd been, I couldn't stop

sneezing. I'm afraid, Miss Lemon, you
must use a different perfume.

I never wear perfume to work, Mr Poirot.

You don't. It'll be most inappropriate.

Well, somebody's wearing perfume.

I can smell it.

Perhaps it is the flowers, my friend.

No, it's different.

It's over here somewhere.

What on earth are you wearing?

I don't know what you mean.

We're wearing scent.

Nonsense, Hastings.

I am wearing the discreet manly cologne
that I purchased from Monsieur Trumper.

For five guineas. Five guineas? I
thought it was all his haircuts for a

That is enough.

The office of Poirot is closed for
business.

Miss Lemon, cover up your typewriter.

Good day to you, Chief Inspector. And
Hastings, will you please go home and

nurse your unfortunate affliction?