All language subtitles for 03. The Plymouth Express

Yes, sir. Hello there.

You're new, aren't you?

Is there someone you wanted to see, sir?

Well, yes, there was, as a matter of
fact.

I'd rather like a few quick words with
my wife.

Good morning, sir. Good morning.

Have your sweet.

And how long will we be having the
pleasure of your patronage, Monsieur Le

Difficult to say.

I have a business in London of an
indefinite nature.

Have your florist.

Touch the little toe?

But of course, monsieur.

Excellent.

Suite 37.

Glossier, darling.

What the hell are you doing here,
Carrington?

Florence doesn't want to see you.

I'd have thought the letter from the
lawyer made that perfectly clear.

Well, I'm sure we both want to spare
Flossie the embarrassment of airing all

little family secrets.

Get out of here.

Rupert. I thought it was your voice.

There's no need for you to talk to him,
Florence.

There's no need for you to even see him.
But I want to talk to him, Father.

Just for a moment, please.

All right.

One minute.

And I want him out of this house.

He never liked me.

Good heavens.

I can't imagine why.

Look, Fluffy.

That's legal separation.

It isn't what you want, is it?

A little bit.

The only reason I wanted to be alone
with you...

Was to be absolutely certain I got you
out of my system.

I have.

Goodbye, Robert.

Flossie, wait.

Look, all right, if that's what you
really want.

But look, you couldn't, um... I'm in a
spot of difficulty.

You mean money.

Not a penny of it.

You've had a good run for my money, but
now it's over.

I think you should help me out, Flossie.

Oh, but they're standing as they closed
yesterday in Sydney.

Listen, the geologist's report is fine.

Couldn't be better.

Where did the rumours start, do you
know?

Paris?

Who in Paris?

Look, Tommy, hold the bank off.

When the real report's published, those
shares are going to rocket.

Yeah.

Right.

I say.

Do you remember those shares Sandy
Hackett took me to buy?

Shares, Hastings?

The Australian mining company, Yellow
Creek.

He said they were about to make some
spectacular discovery.

Do not tell me, Hastings. They are down
to five shillings.

Three and six, actually.

I thought you didn't study the stock
market. I do not hate things. I study

psychology.

Monsieur Hackett is what we call the
congenital optimist.

The only occasion on which we met, he
assured me with the utmost certainty

it would not rain that afternoon because
he was going to the garden party.

Yes, I remember.

It bucketed down.

Now, Mr. Gordon, Halliday's here to see
you, Mr. Poirot.

Monsieur Gordon Halliday.

Show him in by all means, Miss Lemon.

Is that the Australian Gordon Halliday?

Oui, oui.

The self -made millionaire par
excellence.

But he's the chairman of Yellow Creek
Mines. Do you think he'd advise me?

I forbid you to mention it.

Mr. Halliday is here to ask for advice,
not to give it.

Mr. Poirot, very good of you to see me
without an appointment. Not at all, Mr.

Halliday, not at all. How may I be of
service to you?

Well, actually, it's a little awkward.

Flowers from Monsieur Comte again,
madam.

Not more of them.

What did he say this time?

I am desolated not to have heard from
you.

Can it possibly be that I am condemned
to take tea alone?

Have pity, my lovely Florence.

Have pity.

He hasn't changed one bit.

Well, I could deal with a bit of
cheering up.

Look, Mr Poirot, money's no object.

I want him got rid of.

Poirot is not in the business of getting
rid of people, Monsieur Halliday.

He's not only European, Monsieur Poirot,
he's a Frenchman.

And he's not only a Frenchman, he's a
wrong 'un.

You see, it's hard for poor Florence.

Everybody knows she's my only heir.

That scares off all the decent blokes
and brings the buzzards flocking.

And this Comte de Rochefort is one of
the buzzards.

Yeah, knew it as soon as I heard his
wings flapping towards us in Paris.

Of course, Florence thought he was the
bee's knees.

I had a hell of a job getting her away
from him.

I thought I might find her someone more
suitable in English society.

The Honourable Rupert Carrington?

Yeah, well, that was out of the frying
pan, into the fire with a vengeance.

And now, just as she gets him out of her
hair, back out of nowhere comes this so

-called Count, staying at the Adelphi
Hotel, spending a fortune on roses.

Poirot is not in the business of vetting
the potential husbands, Mr. Halliday.

I cannot help you.

You keep telling me what business you're
not in, Mr. Poirot.

Can't you just run your eye over the
pipsqueak for me?

You're not a father, Poirot.

You don't know what it's like trying to
bring up a daughter all on your own.

No wife to talk it over with.

No one to ask advice.

Very well.

I will run my eye over him for you.

I can tell you where he'll be in half an
hour from now.

Unless I'm very pleasantly mistaken,
Florence will be there too.

Will you go to Cross?

Cross is about the most exciting thing
in London this month.

No. That is not so.

I was devastated when you left Paris,
Florence.

I was utterly destroyed.

Well, I'm sorry about Paris.

My father... Ah.

Your father.

Perhaps he will look at me in a better
light.

Why? What's different this time? I have
a job.

I think the first national bank of Paris
will carry Wayne.

Even with him.

Well, Hastings, what do your instincts
tell you about our so elegant count?

Well, not a lot, really. Just looks like
a typical frog.

Typical Frenchman.

I mean, typical Frenchman of his time.

A Frenchman.

Quite so. Quite so.

Typical of his time.

Bearable. Worth 20 ,000 of your English
pounds.

If the bank can trust me to such an
extent, so can your father.

So can you.

Is this something to do with some
financial masterstroke?

I will tell you all about it when we
meet tomorrow.

Oh, not tomorrow, I'm afraid.

Tomorrow I'm going away for the weekend.

I accepted an invitation months ago.

How can I possibly be without you for
another three days, now that we have

each other again?

Well, you can always come and see me off
if it'll make you feel better.

I'm catching the 1214 from Paddington,
the Plymouth Express, and then changing

at Bristol.

Come and wave goodbye to me.

It is only for three days.

Which of the jewels shall I pack, madam?

Oh, I can't decide.

I'll take the jewel case with
everything.

Do you think that's wise, Miss Florence?

Florence, I just... Oh, do you have to
wear those?

With this?

Don't be silly, Father.

Pack these, Jane.

Do I have to take them all?

Daddy, you really do have to stop
worrying about me.

Dear, dear.

Help Jane with the cases.

One hundred and fifty thousand shares,
court.

One hundred and fifty thousand.

The Yellow Creek Mining Corporation.

To be sold when they reach one pound.

my security.

Express via Britain.

1214 Plymouth Express via Britain will
depart from platform one.

Are you sure you wouldn't rather I
stayed with you, madam?

Quite sure. You go and find your own,
please.

Are you expecting company, madam?

Of course not.

Why on earth should I be?

Excuse me.

Do you know if that clock is correct?

No idea, I'm afraid, my dear.

Is Poirot in? I want to see him. Right
now.

Poirot.

Florence has disappeared.

You've got to do something.

Poirot, she's just disappeared into thin
air. Now calm yourself, Monsieur

Halliday. How can I? I knew something
like this would happen.

Tell me.

She was going away for the weekend.

Her mates just called from Bristol
Station. They were supposed to change

Only apparently Florence stayed on the
train, said she had some business

on. Now, did she specify what business?

No, no, she just said that she'd get the
first train back to Bristol and then

they'd go on together.

But that is not necessarily to worry, my
friend. But that was over three hours

ago, Poirot. There's still no sign of
her. I see.

What really worries me is that when the
maid went along to Florence's

compartment at Bristol...

There was a man in it, brother.

We'll know what the pen's on for you
soon.

Oh, Poirot.

You're a clever man.

You tell me that.

My dear friend, I'm so very, very sorry.

You found a murderer, Poirot.

What makes you richer than you ever
dreamed?

Hallyday, my friend, it is not a
question of money.

Believe me, I also shall not rest until
the murderer is brought to justice.

the earliest possible moment.

She's in the breakfast room.

The police are questioning her right
this minute.

I tell you, I never saw his face.

That's a bit hard to credit.

Well, she made sure that I didn't.

She was carrying him.

She was standing in the doorway when we
got to Bristol with the luggage already

out in the corridor.

I just caught a glimpse of him over her
shoulder. He had his back to me.

Well, you must have noticed something.

I told you he was tall.

He had on a dark suit.

And I think... I'm almost positive that
his hair was dark, too, but that's all I

remember.

All right, Poirot.

I think I heard you were here.

Nasty business, this.

Whatever.

A genuine tragedy.

If I may ask you, mademoiselle,

did he seem to you in any way?

Familiar.

No, I don't.

I don't think he did.

Could it have been Mrs. Carrington's
husband?

Well, I only saw him once.

I suppose it could have been.

Have you ever met a man who calls
himself Le Comte de Rochefort?

No, sir.

So, after you'd caught a glimpse of this
man you might or might not have seen

before, then what happened?

I told you Mrs Carrington said she had
business on the train and that I was to

take the luggage and wait for her.

Mr Halliday tells me that Mrs Carrington
had a lot of jewellery with her in a

blue Morocco travelling case.

That wasn't with the stuff he took off
the train?

Oh, no, sir. She kept that with her.

What do you think, Poirot?

I presume that the travelling case of
Blue Morocco was not discovered with the

body. You presume 100 % correct.

Mind you, that doesn't necessarily
signify.

For whatever reason the murderer had for
killing her, he'd be a fool to let a

bag full of valuable jewellery go
begging.

Or perhaps he took it to distract us
from his real motive.

How long had she been dead when the body
was discovered at Plymouth?

About three hours, the doctor says.

After Bristol, the train stops at
Weston, then on again to Taunton.

of the pathologist, she was killed soon
after the train left Western at the very

latest. Possibly before.

Before the train reached Western? Could
be.

The train for Plymouth departs from
Paddington Station at 14 minutes past

does it not? 12 .14, yes.

Hastings, what do you say to an
invigorating ride into the West Country?

Dead on time. Exactly 25 past three.

Excellent.

And exactly 35 minutes after leaving
Bristol.

At which time yesterday, Madam
Carrington was alive and well.

The question is, Hastings, was Madam
Carrington still alive and well at this

moment?

And if she was alive and well, did she
remain in the carriage?

Or did she descend from the train?

Onto the platform.

Perhaps to refresh the lake.

Take in the fresh air.

And did anybody see her doing it?

I think the one.

Perhaps we should ask a porter.

Fighters! Yes, we could.

Or possibly... Fight!

Fight! Fight here!

Fighters! Excuse me.

No, no, no, no, no.

You have the appearance of a bright,
observant young lad.

That's what my mom says.

Tell me, I want you to try to remember,
at precisely this time yesterday, did

you see descending from the train a
woman, a handsome young woman, in a blue

and coat, perhaps?

She bought a newspaper of you, huh?

A Yemeni -Australian lady.

So you remember.

I couldn't forget her guv, not the fuss
she was making.

Fuss? Yeah.

She kept going on about wanting a late
edition of the paper, any paper.

Well, I told her I only had the early
edition, but she wouldn't believe me.

Kept going on saying I must have one as
her life were at stake.

And, uh... Did she give to you any
reason

why she was so desperate to acquire this
late edition?

No, she just kept saying...

He'll be so angry and looking back at
the train like someone was on it waiting

for her.

And then?

Well, nothing. She just kept going on
and on until she nearly missed her

She only just managed to jump back on it
as it was moving.

Thank you, Stan.

Late edition, early edition, late
edition.

Super, Miss Lemon.

I knew that you could arrange it.

Difficulties are made to be overcome,
Mr. Poirot.

Difficulties are made to be overcome.

What a truly magnificent attitude.

So, ladies and gentlemen, let us divide
these...

Inspector Jack.

Chief Inspector.

All right.

Now, what's this?

You looking for a job?

No, I know you've had a chat with that
newsboy.

You think there's something in it?

That is what we are trying to discover,
Chief Inspector.

Hmm.

Well, I just thought I'd come and tell
you you could be on the right track with

that French gent.

Apparently, he left the Adelphi at 11 o
'clock yesterday morning, an hour before

the express left Paddington, and didn't
get back till gone ten in the evening.

And nobody has any idea where he spent
the day.

However, we picked him up trying to
catch the boat train this morning. We

stopped him for questioning and he made
a run for it.

It's down at the station now.

These papers have probably got nothing
to do with it.

No, no, no, Chief Inspector.

When we shall discover why Madam
Carrington was so anxious to acquire a

edition, then we shall know why she was
killed and who is

responsible.

I don't think I can, Mr Carrington. I'm
sorry.

What do you mean, don't think you can?

Well, for one thing, sir, I think you've
had enough.

And for another, there is the question
of your bill.

Who are you?

Arthur Hastings.

No, this fellow won't give me a drink,
Arthur Hastings. Really?

Well, perhaps I'll have more like it.
Two large scotches, please.

Had a bit of luck at Ascot yesterday.

Don't talk to me about Ascot.

Horses.

What were you on in the 3 .30?

I bet you were on Highland Laddie. Yes,
I was. I hate people like you.

33 to 1.

I'd put my shirt on rising... Rising...
Every penny

I had on the world on that nag.

You're not a chance.

Must have given you a Nazi shock when
you read the result of the paper.

Shock?

Do you know why I'm here?

This is the only place I know where my
bookmaker can't get at me.

I mean, I don't want to sit here
drinking.

I actually dislike drinks, you know
that?

Why did you back Highland Laddie?

Oh, I had a tip.

I really dislike people who get tips.

Thank you.

You're a good chap, though. You've got
to be fair.

How did you know I read about it in the
paper?

Oh, you said.

You said you went to the course.

Did I say that?

You are a good chap.

Every penny I had.

I looked at that newspaper.

I could be a success, you know, if I
just had the capital.

And tips.

Isn't there anyone you could go to for
capital?

Not a soul in the world.

Not now.

I demand to see the French consulate.
All in good time, Monsieur le Comte.

This is a serious business.

I know nothing of the death of Mrs.
Carrington.

I am devastated by it.

I'm rather more interested in these
things for the moment.

Monsieur Halliday, I am devastated for
you.

Now, the Count says he last saw your
daughter when he had tea with her at the

Adelphi on Wednesday.

And he did have tea with her.

One interesting thing, though, Mr.
Halliday, is that he had these with him.

Bearer bonds.

And what the Count can't tell us, you
see, is what sort of financial dealings

would require him to bring £20 ,000
worth of these bonds into England and

take them back again to Paris three days
later.

He was obviously using them as security.

Security for what?

That is my bank's business.

Not according to them, it isn't, sir.

I rang them up, you see.

They're quite anxious to have a word
with you.

What bank are we talking about?

The International Bank of Paris.

Wait a minute.

I know what he wanted the security for.

Ten days ago, somebody started a rumour.

that a geologist's report on one of my
mines was going to be unfavourable.

The shares plummeted.

He must have made a real killing.

He'd bought the shares at about three
shillings and sold them the day after

real report came out, and they went back
up again to about 20.

Making about £100 ,000.

This sounds like something for the fraud
department.

Fraud?

Of what fraud?

It's normal business practice.

No wonder you were so anxious to get
hold of the late petition.

He went down to Ashcourt, put everything
he had on rising start.

The sooner he knew the hawk had lost, he
asked Florence for a loan. She refused.

The frog's cracked.

I knew it.

What he was reckoning was he'd use Mrs.
Carrington as a backup in case his deal

went wrong. No, no, no, he'd lost every
penny he had at the races. Races? Who

had what races? Rupert Carrington. No,
no, it's got nothing to do with

Carrington. Please, please, please, my
friend, if you please.

How can I possibly arbitrate between
your two ingenious theories if I can

distinguish one word of them?

Now, Chief Inspector, your theory, as we
understand it... Is it a count de

Rochefort intended to use Madame
Carrington as a fallback count? If the

the deal went wrong, he would then
demand of her the money in order to

the money. He's admitted as much. But
the deal did not go wrong, did it? So

should the count kill for the jewels of
Madame Carrington?

Well, I think your theory is that when
Monsieur Carrington discovered that his

certain winner had fell at the last
fence, he then demanded from his wife

money in order to remove the threat of
the bookmakers. And when she refused...

He killed her for her jewelry.

Exactly. Then you tell me his things.

Why does Monsieur Carrington still lurk
about his club, drinking himself into

oblivion, and shaking with fear of what
that might do to him, his very same

bookmakers?

These feverish speculations, they will
not do.

Order and method will be our guides.

Now, I have been consulting the
admirable files of Miss Lemmon.

So, Chief Inspector, get four of your
best men.

and meet us at this address at 9 o
'clock.

Find the jewel and you find the killer.

What's happening?

Nothing.

He's knocking at the door.

Hold on, someone's after him.

He's gone in.

I wish I knew what he was up to.

quite clear what this is about. A friend
advised me to get in touch with you. A

friend? What friend?

He prefers to remain anonymous.

Oh, yes.

I don't think I care for anonymous
friends.

My friend is anxious to buy some
jewellery.

Plenty of shops around.

You look like a jeweller.

You're very acute, monsieur.

Very well.

Perhaps you read of the jewelry robbery
the day before yesterday on the Plymouth

Express?

I don't read that sort of trash.

You are very wise, monsieur.

There is blood on those jewels.

It will make them very hard to sell.

You're a funny little fellow, aren't
you?

What are you?

Montenegrin? Polish?

Belgian, Monsieur McKenzie.

You see, those jewels will have to be
broken up, removed from their setting.

And whoever tries to sell them will be
lucky to receive one -sixth of their

value.

I don't know what your game is,
Monsieur.

I really don't.

My friend is a truly private collector.

He would not be so fussy.

He would not care if the jewellery were
left in its original condition.

In fact, he would prefer it.

Let's hope it stays fine for him.

You got the wrong shop.

None of this means anything to me.

I couldn't be of any help.

We all have false hopes, Mr. McKenzie.

How did it go, Poirot?

He denied his own knowledge, of course.
But there he is on the coat rack.

The duplicate of the coat Madame
Carrington was wearing at the time of

death. Why did he need a duplicate?

For his accomplice to wear it.

I didn't know he had an accomplice. But
of course he did.

That is how I was able to locate him.

Right. Come on, lad.

Right, break the door now.

I want

to go out with you, Miss.

You weren't welcome when my daughter was
alive.

You're even less welcome now.

I don't care if I'm welcome or not.

Why should you have an easy conscience?

A bit of horror would never have
happened if you hadn't come between

me.

The only thing that came between you and
Florence was your character.

She saw you for what you were.

No, she saw what you wanted her to see.

You could never let her go, could you?

Yeah, but what is it, Mason?

It's the inspector from Scotland Yard,
sir.

And a lot of other people.

Do we have to talk about this?

I am afraid that we do, Mr. Halliday.

That's not good.

Okay, go on.

I still don't understand the business
about the newspapers.

Neither did I at first, my friend.

Why should Florence be so desperate to
procure this newspaper?

Please, mademoiselle, allow me.

Perhaps her companion was a man who was
desperate to know the results of a

particular race.

Her companion was a man who desperately
needed to know the close of day figures

on the stock market.

Absurd.

I tormented my brain.

I agitated a little gray cells without
mercy.

Why did Florence Carrington so
desperately want that newspaper?

And what was the answer?

The answer? The answer, my friend, was
that she did not.

Now, once this idea presented itself to
me, the truth soon became very clear.

You see, I knew Florence was murdered
because of her jewels, but I also knew

something about the man who killed her.

Knew what?

The man I was looking for had to be a
thief of the most steel -hearted, one

capable of committing the senseless
murder of an innocent young woman.

So I looked in the files of Miss Lemon,
and what do I find?

I find a jewel thief.

the name of McKenzie.

A plan is devised which will suggest
that the theft of the jewel is another

principal cause of the crime that needs
to take place.

That color really suits you.

He's traveling with the Jews alone and
unprotected on the Plymouth Express.

Mr. McKenzie has also boarded the train
at Paddington.

Just as the train reaches Bristol
Station, he advances towards a carriage.

The train arrives at Bristol.

Monsieur McKenzie descends from the
train, carrying with him not only the

jewels, but also the baggage of Madame
Carrington.

Now, if anybody had looked at the
carriage as the train left Bristol

they would have noticed Madame
Carrington alive and well.

Indeed, at Western, she apparently
descended from the train onto the

where she made a great fuss about
acquiring the late edition.

But this was to ensure that the
newspaper boy would remember her.

Hang on a minute.

The pathologist said she was dead before
the train reached Weston. Maybe even

before Bristol.

Precisamente, mon ami.

So how is this possible?

Do we believe in ghosts?

It was not poor Mademoiselle Florence
who was seen traveling on the train to

Weston.

It was not Mademoiselle Florence who
made at Weston Station a fracas.

It was the accomplice of Monsieur
Mackenzie, wearing the duplicate blue

To kill a fellow human being is vile, my
friends.

But I wonder if to kill a fellow human
being with a knife is not the most vile.

You look a proper lady.

To see the eyes of the victim staring
into yours.

To feel the breath upon her face.

The scrape of the knife point between
her ribs.

You see, the ruthless accomplice of
Monsieur McKenzie was a woman called

Kidd, who was employed by Madame
Carrington under the name of Jane Mason.

Tell me, mademoiselle.

Was it absolutely necessary for a poor
wretched woman who had never done to you

one moment's harm to die?

Was there no other way?

Those jewels would have set us up

for the rest of our lives.

Why take chances?

Right, that'll be enough of that.

Take her away, Nathan.

Poor Florence.

Poor dear Florence.

We found the jewel case in Mackenzie's
house, Mr. Halliday.

They're not mine.

I know the contents of my daughter's
will.

I belong to that creature, then.

No.

No, I don't want them.

I'm not going to profit by Fluffy's
death.

Most sad.

Most sad.

I shall go now, I think.

Oh, you think so, do you?

You may not be a murderer, Monsieur
Lecomte, but you're still a swindler.

You're coming back to Scotland, you are.

Dear Mr Poirot, I would like to express
my gratitude for your help in this

tragic business.

Your logical and business -like approach
was something I could cling to in the

depths of my despair.

I hope sometime in the future to be able
to find a measure of such quiet

strength.

Then perhaps I can start again.

I am returning home to the memory of
happier times.

old friends may help me live with the
past.

For Monsieur Halliday.

He says in his letter that he will
return to Australia.

He must himself in his work try to
forget.

He has been most excessive in his
generosity.