All language subtitles for 03. One, Two, Buckle My Shoe

1925, and the Prince of Wales embarks on
his tour of the Indian subcontinent.

The welcoming cheers that greet the heir
to the imperial throne prove positive

that India remains just as steadfastly
loyal to the crown as it was in the days

of his great -grandmother, Queen
Victoria.

Wait a minute.

That's so sad.

Which is the lady that I must seize
upon?

The same is she, and I do give you her.

Why, then she's mine.

Sweet, let me see your face.

I am your husband, if you like of me.

Give me your hand before this holy
friar.

Soft and fair friar, which is Beatrice?

I answer to that name.

What is your will?

Do not you love me? Why, no.

No more than reason.

Do not you love me?

Truth, no.

No more than reason.

Why, then, my cousin Margaret and Ursula
are much deceived, for they did swear

you did.

What a totally ghastly audience.

I didn't think they were too bad.

Now for another transformation scene.

How to make myself look respectable for
government house. Oh, I'm so excited.

Me too.

Is Mr Blunt waiting?

He better be.

You're quite serious about him, aren't
you?

I know you don't approve.

Oh, it's not my place to approve. Oh,
don't be so mamby -pamby, Mabel. You

he's not good enough for me. I just
don't understand you. I mean, you're so

ambitious. And with your background, you
could... Who is it?

Come in.

Well, come on, girls.

The prince is waiting.

The young prince immerses himself
wholeheartedly in the exhausting

duties entailed in such a great
enterprise.

In the stifling heat of an Indian
midsummer, the grandest reception of all

held at Government House, Calcutta.

Dancing, Mary Bell?

Oh, it's so hot in there.

Did you meet the Prince of Wales, Mr
Blunt?

No, never got closer than five yards.

We've got something to tell you. Oh, no,
go to, please, you promised.

Alistair wants to keep a secret from his
stuffy family, but we're going to be

married. Oh, that's wonderful.

Congratulations, Mr Blunt.

When will this be? Quite soon, actually.

Alistair's bank want him back in London
next month.

Oh, come on, Alistair. I want to dance.

Excuse us, please.

And so at

last, time to say goodbye.

As he leaves India, the jewel of
Britain's vast empire, the prince can

with pride at a job well done.

We'd like to join with the people of
India in saying thank you and God bless

Prince of Wales.

Sit yourself down, Mr. Poirot.

Quite comfortable?

We'll start the preparatory work today,
Mr. Poirot. I'm so sorry to have kept

you. Oh, that's all right.

Mr Morley asked me to make another
appointment.

What about the 6th of August at 11 .45,

Miss Sainsbury -Thiel?

Yes, that looks perfect.

Should I get out here and pick a cab,
Uncle Arthur?

No, no, it's all right. I'll walk back
to the office.

Keep the car. Finish your shopping. As
long as I have it back by half past

Excuse me.

It's Alistair Blunt, isn't it?

Yeah? You don't remember me.

Maybelle. Maybelle things we see on. I
was your wife's friend.

Yes.

Yes, of course I remember you.

Um... I'll see you at home later then,
Jane. It was an injury, if you remember.

Gerda and I were on tour together.

I've only just come back after all these
years.

I've been doing work for the Zanana
Missions, you know. Well, it's wonderful

see you again, Miss Sainsbury's Seal. It
really is, but I have... I'd love to

see Gerda again.

Miss Seal?

Sainsbury's Seal, yes.

Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't recognize you
for a moment.

How nice.

I came to return.

My hot water bottle.

What must you think?

This gentleman and I were on the boat
coming back from India together.

I lent him my hot water bottle when he
had a toothache.

Have you been to a dentist yet about
that tooth, Mr. Ambriotti?

Not yet, no.

It doesn't hurt so much.

That's very naughty of you.

You must go and see my man, Mr. Morley,
in Harley Street.

As a matter of fact, it's rather a
coincidence.

I saw him only this morning.

And as I was coming out, I ran into
another old friend from India. Oh, from

longer ago, of course.

His wife and I were together in the
touring company I told you about.

Oh, yes, yes.

When you were an actress.

Quite. And he's done awfully well, I
believe, since then.

Mr Alistair Blunt.

Mr Alistair Blunt, the banker.

I believe so.

He certainly used to work in a bank when
he met Gerda.

Gerda?

His wife.

Oh, we were such pals.

Of course, she was a better actress than
I.

I always said she'd get on in the
profession.

But she left it to marry Alistair.

And I left it to stay in India.

Thank you, sir.

Start link.

Yes, ma 'am. My name's St. Lucille. I
want to see Mrs. Blunt. She's staying

Mrs. Chapman. Mrs. Chapman. Right. This
way, ma 'am.

Number 45, ma 'am. Just there. Thank you
so much.

Good.

After all these years...

Damn boys late again.

And smoking on the front doorstep.

Young people nowadays.

Unreliable. Self -centred.

The girls are as bad.

Gladys isn't coming in today. Her aunt's
had a stroke and she's had to go up to

Yorkshire. That's hardly the girls'
fault.

She's been different lately.

It's that Frank Carter fellow.

Girls do fall in love, Henry.

Love? She's a cut above him, I should
hope.

You know he's in with that black shirt
mob.

Anyway, she shouldn't let it affect her
efficiency as my secretary.

Let her fall in love in her own time.

Good

morning,

Mr Ambrose. Is everything all right,
sir? What?

No.

Yes, it's just a...

Two things.

Take it away.

1980, 1980, 1990.

Bye.

Mr. Porin.

Until

the

end of the financial year.

Thank you, Charles.

Any other business?

There's the question of the debenture
issue.

That was covered on the agenda.

Yes, but we left the date open.

Quite.

That's all, I think. Meeting closed.
Thank you, gentlemen.

All right, Alistair. All right. Yes, I'm
fine. Can I give you a lift?

No, my car's waiting. I'm going to the
dentist.

Gee, that's why you were in such a bad
mood.

We'll get your treatment finished today,
Mr. Quarrow.

No, as I was saying, the important
people, they're always on time.

I've got a most important man coming
this morning.

Mr. Alistair Blunt.

Alistair Blunt?

Oh, yes.

Always on time.

Nice, unassuming fellow.

often sends his rolls away and walks
back to the office, just like you and

You'd never dream he could buy up half
Europe.

Well,

goodbye, Mr Poirot.

Wasn't too bad this time, was it? Shall
I ring for the lift for you? No, no, no,

thank you. I shall walk down.

I'll see you in six months.

Indeed.

Mr. Blunt.

Not at all, madame.

Oh.

Oh, dear.

Thank you. You are welcome, madame.
Thank you so much.

I have an appointment with Mr. Morley.

Name? Miss Sainsbury Seal.

Well, I have now been waiting for 45
minutes. My appointment was for half

12. I shall now go back to Worthing. You
may tell Mr Morley that I am most

displeased.

I am most displeased.

Oh, my God.

Revolver graft in lifeless fingers.

Doesn't seem to be much doubt about it,
does there?

It has to be suicide.

Sit down quiet.

All right, you can move him now.

So, tell me, Chief Inspector Shep.

Lived upstairs with his sister?

Hasn't been moody or depressed?

I wondered if you'd noticed anything
when you saw him this morning.

Nothing at all.

He was, what shall I say?

Normality itself.

When did it occur, this tragedy?

Can't say exactly.

Nobody seems to have heard the shot.

It was discovered about 1 .30 by the
page boy, Alfred Biggs.

At what time did Mr Morley last press
the buzzer for a new patient?

Five past twelve, and the boys showed up
the patient who was waiting, a Mr

Amberiotis, staying at the Astoria
Hotel, according to the appointment

And at what time did he leave this,
Monsieur Amberiotis?

Well, the boy didn't show him out, so he
doesn't know.

But I rang up the Astoria, and Mr
Amberiotis says he looked at his watch

closed the front door, and it was
exactly 25 past 12.

So, at 25 minutes past 12, our dentist,
he is the normal dentist, cheerful,

competent, urbane, and the very next
moment, despair, misery, what you will,

he shoots himself?

It's quite incredible to me that my
brother should have committed suicide.

He'd been quite his usual self, had he,
madam?

Not upset in any way?

He was annoyed.

He had a busy day in front of him, and
his assistant had received a telegram to

say her aunt had had a stroke.

She left for Yorkshire by an early
train.

And your brother, he was annoyed at
this?

Well, the fact is, his assistants got
engaged to a rather unsuitable young

And it occurred to Henry that this young
man had persuaded her to take the day

off. What does he do, this young man?

Frank Carter is, or was, an insurance
clerk.

He lost his job a few weeks ago and
seems unable to get another.

Did your brother try and persuade her to
break off her engagement?

Oh, yes, he did, as a matter of fact.

So this Frank Carter would quite
possibly have a grudge against your

Is that Miss Neville? She's back in a
rare taking, she is.

The whole thing was a wicked practical
joke.

There wasn't anything wrong with Auntie
at all. She couldn't understand it when

I suddenly turned up.

Are you quite sure it wasn't your
friend, Mr. Carter, who sent this

Frank? What are we for?

Oh, I see what you mean.

I'll put up a job between us. We
wouldn't do a thing like that.

Tell me, mademoiselle, what patients had
Monsieur Morley this morning?

They're all in here.

Ten o 'clock, Mrs. Soames, about her new
place.

Ten -thirty, Lady Gregson.

She's an elderly lady.

Eleven o 'clock, Mr. Hercule Poirot.

Well, that's you, isn't it?

Eleven -thirty, Mr. Alistair Blunt.

You know, the banker.

Then Miss Sainsbury -Seale.

She's just back from India.

Twelve o 'clock, Mr.

Amberiotis. He was a new patient.

Made his appointment from the Astoria
Hotel.

And twelve -thirty, Mrs. Pinner. She
comes up from Worthing.

If you please, Alfred, tell me, is it
possible for anyone to enter the house

without you having to let them in?

No. No, not a chance.

Well, not unless they've got a key
anyway.

But it is quite easy for them to leave
the house.

Oh, yeah.

Yeah. Most of them come down the stairs
while I'm taking the new party up in the

lift, see?

Did you see Mr.

Amberiotis leave?

No.

No, he must have let himself out.

But you are quite sure that nobody else
came to the house this morning, only the

patients? That Miss Neville's young man
came round.

In a bit of a paddy he was, not to find
her here.

We haven't heard about this before.

Well, when I told him Miss Neville was
out for the day, he got quite shirty.

Said he'd wait and see Mr Morley.

Then he went into the waiting room.

You must have seen him there, sir.

Ah, yes.

The troubled young man who would not sit
down.

Yeah, must have got tired of waiting, I
suppose.

He wasn't there later.

Why, Chief Inspector Japp, an officer of
your eminence, is he usually called in

to a case of apparent suicide?

Alastair Blunt was here.

Mr. Blunt is the kind of person we take
care of in this country.

You mean that there are certain people
who would like him out of the way? You

bet there are. The Reds, to begin with,
and our black -shirted friends.

It's Blunt and his group who are
standing behind the present government.

That is more or less as I guessed.

Tell me something about Monsieur Blunt,
Chief Inspector.

Alistair Blunt?

He controls all the Arnhold interests in
Europe, as well as the merchant banks.

He married into the family.

We won't spend too long with him. I want
to get on to the Astoria.

As it stands at the moment, this Mr.

Amberiotis was the last person to see
Mr. Morley alive.

This is the second occasion this year
that my allowance has not been paid on

time, Alistair.

You must talk to the bank, Julia, or to
the trustees.

Only my poor dear sister was still
alive.

If she were alive, Mother, you couldn't
benefit from her will.

That is a wicked thing to say, Jane.
It's not wicked, it's true.

The truth is often wicked.

I'm sorry, Julie, this is not my
business.

When I die, the Capitol will come to you
to do with exactly as you wish. Until

then... Until then, I am expected to
exist.

I won't say live.

I'm the pittance from the trust.

$25 ,000 a year can scarcely be called a
pittance.

Do you

think Rebecca intended me to live on
your charity?

It is not charity.

Yes, Miss Montresor.

A Chief Inspector Japp and a Mr Poirot
to see you, sir.

Really? Would you show them in, please?

Chief Inspector Japp.

How do you do, sir?

This is Mr Hercule Poirot.

I know your name, of course, Monsieur
Poirot.

But surely somewhere, quite recently.

This morning, Monsieur Blunt.

In the waiting room of the dentist.

Sir Pauvre, Monsieur Blunt. Yes, of
course. I knew I'd seen you somewhere.

Pauvre? Mr. Morley was found dead, sir,
shortly after you left.

An apparent suicide.

Morley?

Suicide? What an extraordinary thing.

Forgive me, I'm sorry. This is my niece,
Miss Oliveira, and her mother, Mrs.

Oliveira. Mademoiselle, madame.

I've never heard of a dentist committing
suicide before.

Wouldn't happen in the States, you can
be sure of that. They're too damn rich

kill themselves.

He seemed in good health and spirit this
morning, Mr. Blunt?

Well, I think so, yes.

Have you seen him often?

This was my third or fourth visit.

Mr. Blunt, who was it that recommended
you, Mr. Morley, originally?

Arnhold, one of my directors, Lionel
Arnhold.

And we're just wondering, you see, sir,
whether it wasn't suicide but murder,

and the real target was yourself.

That doesn't make any sense at all.

Well, none of it does at the moment,
sir. That's the problem.

Good evening.

We'd like to see Mr.

Amberiotis.

I'm sorry, sir. I'm afraid you can't.

Oh, yes, I can, my lad.

Please.

You don't understand, sir. Mr.

Amberiotis died half an hour ago.

Interesting. Interesting, Dr. Menlock?

Mr. Amber, you're on the site of heart
failure.

Heart failure?

Brought about by an overdose of
adrenaline and Novocaine.

How large an overdose?

Oh, I can't say yet.

These quantitative analyses take time.

I'll be able to tell you tomorrow.

No one claims to stop dentistry, do you,
isn't it? That's right, Chief

Inspector. The subject had been to the
dentist, I believe.

Yes, I'll keep it in the mail.

What a washout. What do you mean, Chief
Inspector?

Morley makes a mistake and injects an
overdose.

Then when Amberiottis is gone, he
realises what he's done, can't face the

and shoots himself.

With a pistol he is not known to
possess?

Relations don't know everything.

No, that is true, of course.

Well, there we are then.

All the same, Chief Inspector, it does
not quite satisfy me.

Cheer up, Poirot. We can't have a nice
juicy murder every time.

Suicide? Mr. Morley?

Poor man.

I suppose he had something on his mind.

Such worrying times we live in.

Did he seem worried to you, Miss
Sainsbury's?

Well, I can't really say you know that
he did.

Can you tell us who else was in the
waiting room while you were there?

Let me see.

There was just one young man there when
I went in.

I think he was in pain because he was
muttering to himself and looking quite

wild. And then suddenly he jumped up and
went out.

And he was the only other patient that
you noticed?

A gentleman came down the stairs and
went out, just as I went up to Mr.

Oh, and I remember a very peculiar
foreigner came out of the house just as

arrived.

That was I, madame.

Oh, dear.

Oh, do forgive me.

Oh,

the light in here is so dim.

Please calm yourself, madam.

Well, I think that's about all, Miss
Sainsbury's Hill.

We may require you to give evidence of
the inquest, of course.

Oh, no.

I will be so nervous.

Well, no need to be nervous, madam.

Just stand up and speak clearly.

Oh, that's very amusing, Chief
Inspector.

Is it?

I used to be an actress.

Just small parts, you know.

Then I went on a world tour.

Yes, well... Well, if my name should be
in the papers,

as a witness at the inquest, I mean, you
will be sure that it's spelt right,

won't you?

Miss Mabel Sainsbury -Seals.

Mabel, spelt M -A -B -E -L -L -E.

Blimey. I can only give you a few
moments, I'm afraid, Mr.

Farrow. I'm going to see Traviata at
Covent Garden.

Thank you, Mr. Arnold.

What's this all about?

It is about the death of the dentist,
Mr. Henry Mollet.

It was you, was it not, who recommended
him to Monsieur Blunt?

Yes, I've been going to him for years.

You don't think I killed him, do you?
Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no.

Quelle idée?

Non. It is just that I'm given to wonder
whether Monsieur Blunt was not perhaps

the intended victim.

I don't quite see how that works.

No. At this moment, Monsieur Reinhold,
neither do I.

One grips at the straws.

But tell me...

Madame Oliveira, the sister -in -law to
Monsieur Blunt, she is une dame

formidable, n 'est -ce pas? Oh, indeed.

How did Madame Oliveira take to Monsieur
Blunt marrying her sister?

I mean, after all, he was a mere
employee of the family business.

I don't know about mere.

Alastair was head of our overseas
investments department.

I don't think Aunt Julia looked at it
like that anyway.

They were so obviously crazy about each
other.

Nobody, of course, knew, but she was
already suffering from the disease that

killed her four years later.

A tragedy.

Yes.

Pardon.

I must detain you no longer from your
Monsieur Verdi.

Monsieur Anholt, I thank you very much
for your patience, and I hope that you

enjoy the opera.

Thank you.

the opinion that Mr. Amberiotis died of
heart failure caused by a large overdose

of a Novocaine and adrenaline mixture.

The dentist who treated Mr.

Amberiotis earlier on the day of his
death is now himself dead, I understand.

So I understand, sir.

Thank you, Dr. Dennis.

Thank you.

Well, there doesn't seem much doubt,
gentlemen, that this is a case of

accidental death.

A very unfortunate case.

Did Mr. Morley accidentally give his
patient too large a dose of the

Or did Mr. Amberiotis have an unusual
reaction to it?

Since Mr. Morley is now enveloped in it,
we shall never have the answer to this.

Nevertheless, it is your duty, of
course, gentlemen of the jury, to

possibilities before you arrive at your
verdict.

But I must remind you that before
determining the verdict, the fact that

was death in the case, you would have to
be patient.

We all agree that there was no intention
of passing the verdict.

Nobody has seen Hyde nor Harry in every
field since Tuesday.

Such a nice type of woman.

And she seems so happy here.

I wouldn't have bothered you with it,
sir, but I remember she'd been a witness

in that other cave. No, quite right,
Beddoes.

Why should she disappear?

It is curious, you admit?

There's nothing funny about her, you
know.

I cabled Calcutta. Got the reply back
last night.

She went out there as an actress and
then took to good work.

Got hand in glove with the missionaries,
apparently.

What I call a terrible woman.

But definitely not the type to get mixed
up in a murder.

You got anything?

Stockings.

Ten inch, cheap silk.

Price?

Probably two shillings and eleven.

You're not valuing for probate, Poirot.

De Poirot.

Mademoiselle Neville, what a pleasant
surprise.

I'm so sorry to worry you like this, but
I had to see you.

I was very upset by the inquest this
morning.

It couldn't happen the way they said it
did.

Giving a patient an overdose, I mean.

Dentists get into the habit of giving
the regulation amount automatically.

But you did not say this in the
coroner's court.

I was afraid of making things worse.

People might think he did it
deliberately.

I see.

Shall we discuss this further?

I should like to know a little bit more
about the telegram you received calling

you away on that day.

Do you yourself have any ideas on the
subject?

Not really.

Frank, my friend, accused me of wanting
to go off for the day with somebody

else.

He's been very moody and suspicious
lately.

Just losing his job and not being able
to get another one, I suppose.

And he was upset, was he not, to
discover that you had gone away on that

Yes. You see, he'd come round to tell me
how he'd got this marvellous new job.

Ten pounds a week.

He wanted me to know right away.

And what is it, this new job?

Oh, well... I don't know all the
details.

Some government department.

I have to write to his London address
and the letters get forwarded.

Oh, now.

Does that not seem to you to be a little
strange?

Well, I thought so.

But frankly, it's often done nowadays.

I should like to meet this friend of
yours, mademoiselle.

His only free day is Sunday.

He's away in the country all the week.

Eh bien, tomorrow is Sunday.

fed up with hearing about Morley's
death, to be quite honest.

There wasn't anything so wonderful about
him that I could see.

Tell me, Mr Carter, why were you in
Harley Street that day?

I saw you there in the waiting room.

All right.

I was going to tell Morley that this
business of putting Gladys against me

gone on long enough.

That I'd landed a good job and that it
was about time she handed in a notice

thought about her true self.

But you did not actually tell him these
things.

I got fed up with waiting in that dingy
mausoleum, so I left.

At what time did you leave? I can't
remember.

I've got to get going. The march will be
starting soon.

It has been a great pleasure to meet
you, Monsieur Carter.

And, yes, I am delighted to hear about
your new job.

The work, it is interesting thus far.

Oh, yeah, you know.

I'll see you next week.

Bye -bye. Bye -bye, Mr. O 'Connor.

Are you receiving visitors, my man?

Good heavens.

Poirot. Chief Inspector.

What on earth brings you to Isleworth on
a Sunday afternoon?

Business. What else?

You'd better come inside and have a cup
of tea.

Thank you.

Madam Japs, she is not at home?

No, no.

Some blessed meeting.

Women's Institute.

Parish Council or something, I don't
know.

Do you take sugar, Poirot?

Do you have perhaps a tisane?

Come off it, Poirot. This is Islewood,
you know, not Swan Lake Pam.

What's the business, anyway?

I wondered if you'd been able to trace
the telegram that was sent to Mlle

Neville.

Yes, we did, as a matter of fact.

Rather clever.

The aunt lives in Richmond in Yorkshire.

A telegram was handed in in Richmond,
Surrey, just down the road here.

Do you know what I think, Chief
Inspector?

What's that?

I think there are signs of brains in
this business.

Well, the Assistant Commissioner is
satisfied that Morley killed himself.

Is he satisfied with the disappearing
lady?

Ah, the case of the disappearing seal.

No.

I'm still working on that.

She's got to be somewhere.

Gary Boldy.

And I really think my feelings ought to
be considered in the matter, Alistair.

But your feelings have been considered,
Mother.

Yes, Julia, that is true.

Mr. Poirot to see you, Mr. Blunt. Thank
you, Helen. Mr. Poirot, it's very good

of you to come.

Mr. Blunt.

Well, if you are going to talk horrors,
I shall leave.

Allow me.

I'll see you at home, Jane.

Madame.

You've met Miss Oliveira, I think.

Oh, yes, indeed, mademoiselle. Please.
Thank you.

I hope I haven't asked you here in a
while, goose chase, Mr. Poirot.

It's about this missing woman that the
papers are full of miss Sainsbury seal.

Yes, Jane.

I'm sure this is utterly unimportant Why
we are wasting mr.

Poirot's time. I really don't know if
you please mr. Blunt a la Poirot to

Well Sainsbury seal is such a pompous
name. That's why I remember it was the

last time uncle Alistair went to the
dentist Well, I don't mean the other

mean about a week ago.

I was with him and we stopped in Harley
Street, and just as he got out, a woman

came out of the dentist, a middle -aged
woman, with fussy hair and rather dowdy

clothes.

Oh, Mr. Blunt, you don't remember me,
I'm sure.

People are always saying that, and I
never do.

I was a great friend of your wife, you
know.

They usually say that, too.

It always ends the same way, a
subscription to some charity or other.

Five pounds to his anonymous mission
this time. And had she really known your

wife, Mr. Blunt?

Well, the mention of the Denali mission
made me think she may have done. We were

in India about four years ago, just
before my wife's death.

Perhaps we met once at a reception.

I think it's queer the way she tried to
scrape an acquaintance with you.

And she did not try to, how do you say,
follow it up in any way?

Well, no.

I'd forgotten her name even until Jane
spotted it in the paper.

Well... I just thought you ought to be
told, Monsieur Poirot.

Here.

Here, Alison.

What?

There's a thing here about a woman who
came here.

Miss Sainsbury's Seal.

Do you think she's missing?

You don't have a party?

No, I've never had one.

We can't just break in.

Well, I suppose nothing's happened to
her.

Yes, I suppose she's gone off on
holidays.

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

Go on, Sarge.

Mrs Chapman!

Leave it to us.

Mrs Chapman!

Mrs Chapman?

Hello?

Anybody here?

This is the Vauxhall.

What's that?

Well, I don't know.

Should I open it, Sarge?

Go on then.

It's not particularly pleasant.

That's the porter being Victor.

I had to get him to have another look at
the body to identify it.

There's some brandy in the other room.

It was not pretty, that.

Tell me all about it, Chief Inspector.

The flat belongs to Mrs. Albert Chapman.

Can't tell you much about her, really.

Pays her bills.

Fond of a game of bridge.

Keeps herself to herself, more or less.

The neighbours say they've hardly ever
seen her, in fact.

Mr. Chapman's a commercial traveller,
apparently, so he spends most of his

away from home.

And mademoiselle says Brazil?

She came here on the evening of our
interview with her, about 7 .15.

The porter's wife was cleaning up here
and saw her arrive.

She'd been here once before, the porter
says.

No, one thing's for certain.

Sylvia Chapman, or Sylvia's friends,
murdered the lady, put her in the box

made off.

But why was the face so battered?

She had been dictating this, maybe.

Or it may have been with the idea of
concealing the woman's identity. I don't

know.

No fingerprints anywhere as far as we
can see.

You mean every fingerprint in the
apartment was removed after the murder?

That's about the size of it.

Something worried you, Poirot?

Yes.

Yes, I'm very seriously worried.

There is here, you see, an insoluble
problem.

One patent leather shoe, complete with
buckle.

What's wrong with that? Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Or the same, I do not understand.

Some bills belonging to Madame Chapman.

Some old theatre programmes.

A leaflet about the Zadana missions.

Well, you can guess who brought that
here.

Nothing much of interest in the address
will go out of the... Well, so I see.

Hairdressers. Dressmakers.

Dentist. Morley.

168 Harley Street.

Not so strange if she was a friend of
the Sainsbury seal woman.

Mr. Poirot?

What brings you here?

Tell me, if you please, did your brother
ever mention to you in particular the

Mlle. St. Brassiere or Mme.

Chapman?

No.

No, I don't think so.

I managed to make this before they took
everything, Miss Morley. Oh, thank you,

Agnes. Would you like a cup, sir?

I'm not. For me, Agnes, thank you very
much.

Agnes is coming with me to the country.

She's becoming quite a good little cook,
so she'll be able to do everything for

me.

Excuse me, sir. Yes?

For asking.

Yes.

But does anyone know anything more about
the Master's death, sir?

Nothing fresh has come to light, Agnes.

He's still quite sure he shot himself
because he'd made a mistake with that

drug. Yeah.

Why do you ask?

I only... I just want to be sure, sir.

Ah, Chief Inspector. No time, Poirot.

We found Mr and Mrs Albert Chapman.
Where?

They booked him to the Montague Hotel
this morning. The Montague Hotel,

Bloomsbury? That's right.

It is odd, is it not, that being on the
run after murdering Mademoiselle

Sainsbury's seal, that they have not run
further.

You never can tell with a criminal mind,
Poirot.

Just open the door, Mr Chapman.

Here. All right, there's no need for
anyone to get hurt.

You are Mr Albert Chapman?

Yes. And this is Mrs Chapman?

Yes.

What's the meaning of this?

I'll ask the question, sir.

Do you live at No. 45 Litchfield Court
in Battersea in the county... What do

mean, no?

Well, we don't.

Do we, Beryl?

Beryl?

What's wrong with Beryl? We happen to
know that your name is Sylvia, Mrs

Chapman.

What are you talking about?

We live in Budleigh, Salterton.

Not this Litchfield place.

You have proof of that, I suppose.

Well, no, I haven't.

Yes, I have.

Watch him, Beddows.

Our wedding lines, if you must know.

We were married.

This morning.

I swear by almighty God that the
evidence I shall give shall be the

whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

You are Mr. John Leatherne?

Yes, sir.

And you are a dentist?

Yes, sir.

I've taken over the dental practice of
the late Mr. Henry Morley at 168 Harley

Street. I see.

You were recently called to examine the
body of the deceased.

for purposes of identification.

Were you not?

I was, sir. The police believe the body
to be that of Miss Maybel Sainsbury

-Seale, who was a patient of Mr
Morley's. I see.

You've inherited, as it were, the late
Mr Morley's patients.

That's right, sir.

And, of course, their dental records.

Quite. And could you identify the body
from these records?

I could, sir.

It was not Miss Sainsbury -Seale.

It was Mrs. Sylvia Chapman, another
patient of Mr. Morley's.

The fair Mabel put one over on a good
and proper.

I wouldn't have thought she was capable
of murder, but that's what it looks like

now. Sylvia didn't murder Mabel. Mabel
murdered Sylvia.

It crossed my mind that Morley might
have been killed so he couldn't identify

the body.

But as you have just heard, Chief
Inspector, the records would still have

existed.

That's right.

Anyway, I'm going back to work.

Oh, Chief Inspector, this morning I
received a letter from Monsieur Blunt.

He has invited me to his house in the
country. He may have a commission for

Well, you always did move in exalted
circles, Poirot.

Helen isn't dining with us tonight?

I suggested that it would be far better
for her to rest than to go to all the

bother of dressing herself up and coming
down.

She saw my point.

Oh?

I thought it might make a pleasant
change for her.

I really don't see why you need a
secretary during the weekend anyway.

She's new to the job. There's a lot she
needs to learn.

Monsieur Poirot.

And there's a great deal about which I
am not entirely satisfied.

What do you want of me, Monsieur Poirot?

I want you to find this woman,
Sainsbury's seal.

Alive or dead?

You think she may be dead?

I think...

She might be dead, yes.

Why do you think so?

Because of a pair of new silk stockings
I discovered.

You're an odd man, Monsieur Poirot.

Oh, yes, I am.

Very odd.

That is to say, I am methodical,
orderly, and logical.

And I do not like to distort facts to
support a theory.

Good morning.

Good morning, Monsieur Poirot. Did you
sleep well?

Excellently, thank you, Monsieur Blunt.

Good morning, mademoiselle.

Good morning, Mr. Poirot.

I would prefer not to accept any
invitations, Mr. Blunt, while your

relations are with you.

Good morning.

Julia?

I'm afraid you'd rather hurt Helen's
feelings.

Oh, for heaven's sake, Alistair. She's
only a secretary.

I noticed that you have a gardener who
you must have employed recently.

Yes, we took one on a couple of weeks
ago.

Do you know from where he came?

I'm afraid not.

McAllister, the head gardener, engaged
him.

What is his name?

I don't know.

Dunning. Stunbury. Something of the
sort.

Seems like lots of people are out for
your blood, Uncle Alistair.

Really?

What are you reading?

Oh, the debate in the house.

That's only Architon.

If we let him have his way, England will
be bankrupt within a week.

Did you know there are over two million
unemployed in this country?

One can't make an omelette without
breaking eggs, Jane.

I think we do pretty well, all things
considered.

Industrial production was up 3 % last
year.

Take no notice of what Jane says.

You know what girls are.

They go to these parties in studios, and
then they come home and talk a lot of

nonsense. Oh, mother.

I'm afraid I'm one of the last of the
old guard, Mr. Poirot.

And if the old guard should be removed?

What would happen?

Removed.

I'll tell you.

A lot of damn fools would try a lot of
very costly experiments.

It would be the end of stability, of
common sense, and of sovereignty.

Of course, we've always taken great
pride in our herbaceous borders here.

They're a lot of work, mine, but well
worth the effort, I've always thought.

Ah, now, these flowers here, they are
beautiful.

Yes, they're particularly good this
year. And look at these.

Good God!

Doctor John! What's it been, I tell you?
Oh, no, just shooting at the birds, I

suppose. What? I put him right at it.

I was just weeding the best.

I heard a shot. The gun fell right on my
feet. I picked it up and this stupid

cow jumped on me. Now then, Dunning,
Dunbury, what is your name? His name is

Frank Carter.

You.

You've had it in for me all along. I
never fired that shot.

In that case, who did?

As you can see, there is no one else
here but us.

You really must not agitate yourself,
Mademoiselle Neville.

First they try to pretend that Frank
attempted to murder Mr. Blunt, and now

they've accused him of murdering poor
Mr. Morley.

Sugar? No, thank you.

I was down there, you know, at Exxon,
when the shot was fired at Mr. Blunt.

It's this black shirt.

They march around waving their banners.

They have this ridiculous salute.

And they work up these poor men like
Frank until they think they're doing

something wonderful and patriotic.

And that is the defence of Monsieur
Carter?

No! I haven't seen him, of course. They
wouldn't let me.

He

has

a solicitor working for him.

And he told me what Frank had said.

He met a man in a public house who said
he was in a secret service and

he offered Frank this wonderful job.

He was to take up the post of gardener
and listen to all the other gardeners'

conversations and found them out as to
their red tendencies.

He had to pretend to be a bit of a red
himself.

And this solicitor?

He is of the opinion that his client
would do better to think of a story that

more plausible.

Lawyers.

You wouldn't believe how difficult they
are.

Mademoiselle Neville, what did you think
of the housemaid, Agnes?

I didn't think at all about her.

Mr. Morley's sister kept a strict eye on
the maids.

Why are you asking?

She wrote to me a letter, and as yet I
do not know why.

Thank you.

Your tea, madam.

Thank you.

I hope you didn't mind me writing you
that letter, sir.

Only I didn't want for you to come to
the house.

I mean, if I was to say anything in
front of Miss Morley, she might say that

ought to have said something before.

But me and the cook, we'd read in the
paper that the master had made a mistake

with that drug and that he'd shot
himself.

So it did seem quite clear, didn't it,
sir?

When did you begin to feel differently,
Agnes?

In the paper, sir.

About that Frank Carter.

Shooting at that gentleman.

I mean, up till then, neither of us
thought he'd done anything to Mr Morley.

We just thought he was a bit queer.

What was queer, Agnes?

It was that morning, sir.

The morning Mr Morley shot himself.

I was wondering if I dared run down and
get the post.

So I went out on the landing and I
looked down over the stairs.

And it was then that I saw him,

a Frank Carter, down on the stairs
below. He was just standing there, like,

waiting.

Then he seemed to make up his mind, and
he sort of went very quickly down the

stairs towards the master's surgery.

And I thought to myself, the master
won't like that.

But just then, Cook called me, and I
went back into the kitchen.

And afterwards, I heard the master had
shot himself, and it was so awful, it

just drove everything out of my head.

Tell me, Agnes, did you actually see
Frank Carter enter the room of Monsieur

Morley?

He must have done, sir.

At what time was this?

It must have been about half past
twelve, sir.

I want to see Frank Carter.

What's the big idea?

You are unwilling?

What do you want to see Carter for?

Ask him if he really murdered Morley?
Yes.

And I suppose you think he'll tell you
if he did? He might tell me, yes.

That can only mean that you've got hold
of something that proves more or less

conclusively that he didn't.

You ought to play fair with us, Poirot.

I am playing fair with you, Chief
Inspector.

Believe me.

It's a damn lie. You paid her to say
that.

Anger and abuse will not help you,
Monsieur Carter.

Agnes is going to tell her story, and it
is going to be believed.

You were on the stairs.

Agnes did see you, and you did go into
the room of Monsieur Morley.

What happened then?

It's a lie!

It is not a lie.

If you did not kill Monsieur Moray, your
only hope is to tell me the exact truth

of what happened that morning.

I'll curse you if you let me down now.

I did go in.

I went up the stairs and waited above
Morley's landing till I could be sure of

getting him alone.

Then a bearded gent came out and went
down the stairs.

I was just making up my mind to go.

And another gent came out and went down
the stairs too.

I knew I had to be quick.

I went along and nipped into his room
without knocking. I was all set to have

out with him.

But he was lying there, dead.

And I could see the bullet hole in his
head with a black crack of blood round

him.

It was cold.

I knew I was in a jam then.

They were going to say I'd done it.

I hadn't touched anything except his
hand and the doorknob.

I wiped out with my handkerchief both
sides as I went out.

There was nobody in the hall and I let
myself out and licked it as fast as I

could.

That's the truth. He was dead already.
You've got to believe me.

By telling me the truth.

You have just saved yourself from being
hanged.

I don't see it.

They're going to say if I'm... Your
story has confirmed what I knew to be

truth.

You can leave it now to me.

Jack. Ah, Poirot.

Yes.

Yes.

What?

No, Poirot.

Well, I'll have to get clearance on
this, you know.

Go on.

Yeah.

All right, I'll do what I can.

Thank you, Chief Inspector.

Mr.

Hercule Poirot, sir.

This is about Miss Janesbury Thiel, is
it? Have you found her?

I hope you do not object, Monsieur
Blunt, but I have invited a few other

to join us.

I'm not walking through the streets in
handcuffs.

You walk through the streets in anything
I tell you, my lad.

I hope... This is a matter of
importance, Alistair.

That Belgian detective sent a most
insolent message to us. Mother.

Miss Neville to see you, sir.

Mademoiselle Neville.

Are there any more, Mr Poirot? If so, we
may be more comfortable in the

boardroom.

Is the boardroom free, Miss Montresor?

Yes.

Frank!

All right, all right. We're still in His
Majesty's custody, you know. Show a bit

of respect.

Come on.

Mesdames et messieurs.

Good afternoon.

Since the beginning of this case, three
people have died.

Pauvre Monsieur Morley, pauvre Monsieur
Amberiotis, and pauvre Mademoiselle

Sainsbury -Seale.

I thought she was still missing.

No, no, no, no, Mademoiselle.

In fact, Mademoiselle Sainsbury -Seale
was dead even before the investigations

of this case began.

The porter at Litchfield Court told us
that Mademoiselle Sainsbury -Seale had

been to visit Madame Chapman.

He saw her go to the apartment and be
let in.

She never came out again, no.

Mademoiselle Sainsbury -Seale was never
ever seen again until the police, they

broke in to the box room of Madame
Chapman.

You mean it was Mabel Sainsbury -Seale's
body in that flat after all?

Indeed it was, my dear Mademoiselle
Neville.

You see, it was a very clever, Double
bluff.

The disfigured face was meant to raise
the question of the identity of the

woman.

But for me, the case, it began with a
shoe.

As I left the dentist after my seance, a
taxi stopped, a door opened,

and the foot of a woman prepared to
descend.

It was a foot that was well shaped, with
a good ankle.

And an expensive stocking.

The shoe was new, shining, patent
leather, with a large ornate buckle.

And when the rest of the lady came into
sight, to be frank, it was quite a

disappointment.

As Mademoiselle Sainsbury -Seale
descended from the taxi, she caught her

buckle and it was wrenched off.

I picked it up and returned it to her.
Not at all, madame.

Oh, dear.

Thank you.

You are welcome, madame. Thank you so
much.

That was all.

The incident, it was closed.

Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Blunt, to interrupt.

I finished the post. Is it all right if
I leave now?

Oh, no, no, no, no, please.

Mademoiselle Montressor, please, come
and join the party.

Monsieur Poirot is expounding some
extremely entertaining theories.

Please.

Go on, Poirot.

Thank you.

When Chief Inspector Jappe summoned me
to Litchfield Court, because a body had

been discovered, the first thing that I
noticed was a shabby buckled shoe.

Well?

Ah, you have failed to appreciate the
point, Monsieur Blunt.

It was a shabby shoe.

It was a well -worn shoe.

But you see, Mademoiselle Sainsbury
-Seale visited the apartment on the

of the same day of the murder of
Monsieur Morley. So in the morning, they

the new shoes. In the evening, they were
the old shoes.

I can't see why that's important.

Eh bien, Mademoiselle, Poirot does not
like things he cannot explain.

Madame Chapman took a size 5 in shoes.

I knew that Mademoiselle Sainsbury
-Seale wore a 10 -inch stocking.

That is to say, she took at least a size
six in shoes.

So I went back to re -examine the body.

My idea was that the face had been
disfigured to hide the fact that it

was the body of Madame Chapman dressed
in the clothes of Mademoiselle Sainsbury

-Seale. Mais non.

The shoe on the body was size six.

So it looked as if it was the body of
Mademoiselle Sainsbury -Seale after all.

But then why was the face so disfigured?

By coincidence, the dentist of
Mademoiselle Sainsbury -Seale was also

dentist of Madame Chapman, Monsieur
Morley.

But he was dead.

However, the records, they would have
still existed, eh?

So the successor to Monsieur Morley
would have been able to positively

the body as that of Mademoiselle
Sainsbury -Seale.

Could you identify the body from his
records?

I could, sir.

It was not Miss Sainsbury -Seale.

It was Mrs. Sylvia Chapman, not a
patient of Mr. Morley's.

But if it was the body of Madame
Chapman, why was she dressed in the

Mademoiselle Sainsbury's seal?

An interesting problem, n 'est -ce pas?

So, I cast my mind back to the
Mademoiselle Sainsbury's seal whom I had

whom the Chief Inspector Jacques had
met.

I used to be an actress.

Just small parts, you know.

Then I went on a world tour.

And although everything about her and
everything she said was in perfect

with her given character, I am now
convinced that the Mademoiselle

-Seale whom we have met and the
Mademoiselle Sainsbury -Seale who

Monsieur Blunt... You don't remember me,
maybe.

Gerda and I were on tour together.

They were not the same woman.

You mean Miss Sainsbury -Seale was
murdered and someone else took over her

identity? Precisely.

Again.

That is very dangerous, Nespa.

But the rewards, they were very high.

Rewards? What rewards?

In just one moment, if you please,
Madame Oliveira.

Perhaps Mr. Morley was murdered because
he would have been able to identify Miss

Sainsbury -Field's body by her teeth.

We must face the facts.

In the beginning, we believed that the
body of Monsieur Morley was first

discovered by the pageboy Alfred at
about 1 .30.

But the fact is, I now know that the
body was first discovered by Monsieur

Frank Carter about one hour earlier, at
about 12 .30.

Two things occurred between the death of
Monsieur Morley and the discovery of

his body by Monsieur Picard.

The lady whose shoe buckle I retrieved
was shown into the surgery of Monsieur

Morley.

While her accomplice dragged the body
into the office of the secretary, the

second man was there in Sainsbury's
field.

changes the labels on the files of
Monsieur Morley to ensure that the body

be identified as that of Madame Chapman.

She then leaves.

Alfred shows him the next patient to the
surgery of Monsieur Morley.

Now, Monsieur Ambariotis had never
before met the dentist, Monsieur Morley.

It's been troubling me since the journey
from India.

So our murderer, he was able to assume
his identity.

This dentist tells to Monsieur
Ambariotis that it would be best to

gum.

He then administers an injection which
contains a dose.

of novocaine and adrenaline, which is
sufficient to kill him six hours later.

But why?

Why would anyone want to kill this man?

Because Monsieur Amberiotis had learned
something from Mademoiselle Sainz

-Bressil.

He had learned a secret.

And a secret that could make him a very
rich man.

I wish to speak to Mr. Alistair Blunt.

And Mr. Amberiotis, he was a
blackmailer.

Are you seriously suggesting Amberiotis
was blackmailing me? How could he

blackmail Alistair?

Alistair has no secrets.

With the greatest respect, Madame
Oliveira, there I must disagree with

Mr. Blunt has a very big secret.

A secret that must be kept at all costs.

And there is only one method that is
totally effective in dealing with a

blackmailer, and that is to silence him.

Forever.

No. Monsieur Amberiotis, he had to go.

And Monsieur Blunt had seen the name of
Monsieur Amberiotis in the appointment

book belonging to Monsieur Morley.

His blackmailer used the same dentist.

That'll do for today, I think. One more
rinse, please.

And so, Monsieur Blanc, you devise a
clever plan.

A very clever plan indeed.

You wait until your treatment has been
completed by Monsieur Morley.

you shoot him.

While the dental records are being
falsified, you drag the body into the

of the secretary.

As I have said, Monsieur Amberiotis had
never before met Monsieur Morley, so

there was no reason for him to suspect
anything.

You administer to him the fatal
injection.

And when he has left, you

drag the body of Monsieur Morley back
into the surgery and arrange it.

To look like a suicide.

I know, Monsieur Poirot, you have a
great reputation.

But I'm afraid in this case you are
wrong to a lunatic degree.

Send him about his business, Alistair.

Mr. Blunt's family stands four square
behind him. I am very pleased to hear

Madame Oliveira.

But you see, when Monsieur Blunt married
your sister, Mademoiselle

Rebecca Anholt, he was not entirely
honest with her, nor with her family.

Because, as Monsieur Amberiotis learned
from the real Mademoiselle Saint

-Brécile, Monsieur Blunt...

was already married.

Look, there's no need for the rest of
you to listen to any more of this. If

you... No, no, no, no, Monsieur Blunt.
You were dazzled by the Arnhold family,

by the vista, not so much of wealth, but
of power.

And so dazzled were you that you
deliberately committed a bigamy and your

wife acquiesced in the situation.

Oh, what rot! What a fine portrait is
this, Monsieur Blunt.

Such a portrait would be to any
boardroom an ornament.

Monsieur Blunt, standing beside his
beloved wife, the former Mademoiselle

Rebecca Arnholdt.

However, mesdames and messieurs, I have
here in my pocket

a certificate of marriage between Martin

Alistair Blunt and an actress by the
name of Mademoiselle Gerda Alexandra

Dated April the 25th, 1925.

And Mademoiselle Gerda Grant is still
very much alive.

Yes.

Indeed, she is in this very room.

Which is better?

I am better than you.

What is your will?

Do not you love me?

Why, no.

No more than me.

Don't be so mamby -pamby, Mabel. You
think he's not good enough for me?

Oh, come on, Alistair. I want to dance,
dance, dance.

Gerda got such a kick out of it all,
didn't you, old girl?

It was your skills as an actress,
Mademoiselle Montresor, that were the

the deception.

You connived at the bigamy of your
husband.

While he set about marrying into the
Arnhold family, you assumed the identity

Madame Sylvia Chapman.

After all these years!

Hello, my dear.

Come in. I've brought you some flowers.

When the real Mademoiselle Sainsbury
-Seale met again your husband... You

your old friend in cold blood.

Go into the sitting room, straight
through there.

But your skills as an actress are put to
the test once again, as the second

Mademoiselle Sainz received.

So kind.

Not at all, madame.

Unfortunately for you, it was Hercule
Poirot.

who retrieved your shoe buckle that day.

But having safely deceived the Chief
Inspector Japp and myself, or so you

thought, you took the opportunity to be
as close as possible to your husband,

you assumed the name of Helen Montresor,
and joined him as his new,

efficient secretary.

We'll never make these people
understand, will we, my darling?

Such ordinary, unimaginative people.

I wish I could make you understand,
Monsieur Poirot, about my meeting with

Rebecca and my marriage.

Gerda understood, didn't you, old girl?

We could have married again after
Rebecca's death, but, do you know, we'd

to rather enjoy all the secrecy.

She's an actress through and through.
She would have found it very dull being

just one character.

Well...

I've killed three people, so presumably
I ought to hang, but haven't I done

something for England?

I have held it firm.

I have kept it solvent.

I have kept it free from dictators.

I am necessary to the continuing peace
and well -being of this nation.

Is he saying what I think he's saying?

What about me?

He was going to let me hang.

Precisement.

Monsieur Blunt, with his usual
efficiency,

had provided for himself a second line
of defense.

If things went wrong, you, Monsieur
Carter, you were to be the scapegoat.

You see, by now, Monsieur Blunt knows of
Monsieur Morley's opinion regarding

you, and so he arranges for you to be
engaged in a most mysterious fashion, as

gardener. Now, these flowers here, they
are beautiful.

And how easy for Helen Montresor to fire
a shot vaguely in your direction.

Drop the pistol at your feet, where you
are bound to pick it up. Drop that gun!

Help!

Oh, Mr. Blunt! You are caught red
-handed, and of course nobody is going

believe your story, your ridiculous
story, about being employed by the

Service.

No.

As far as Mr. Blunt is concerned...

You can end your short life on the
gallows.

I don't waste pity on people like him.

Eh bien, Monsieur Blunt, that is where
you and I, we do not see alike.

For to me, the lives of those three
people are just as important as your own

life.

Monsieur Blunt, you talk of the
continued peace of this nation, huh?

Oh, yes, that is very good.

But Poirot is not concerned with
nations.

Poirot is concerned with private
individuals who have the right not to

taken from them their lives.

Martin Alastair Blunt and Gerda
Alexandra Blunt, I arrest you on charges

murder.

My poor dear Cinder.

I don't know why I'm crying.

Come on, Mother.

I never liked him anyway.

Why don't we go back home?

To New York.

Could have been me, you know.

I think I'm going to keep a close eye on
you in future, Frank Carter.

You're not safe out on your own.

Secret service.

Look at it far up. The trappings of
wealth and power.

And yet underneath it all... Yes, Chief
Inspector?

Well, I mean, it just shows you, doesn't
it?

They're no better than we are when it
comes down to it.

It's the little chaps that keep things
on an even keel.

Chaps like you and me.

But there are no little chaps, Chief
Inspector.

Particularly not...