All language subtitles for 03 - Yellow Iris

Barton, please.

Don't try to stop me, Pauline. I have to
do it.

I'm afraid.

Don't be.

Two years, almost to the day.

You will rest, Iris.

I swear it.

Good morning, Poirot.

Bonjour, Hastings.

Is that all you're having?

What more is there to have?

Decent English breakfast.

And what is that, Hastings? Well,
porridge, two eggs, sausage, bacon,

toast and marmalade, and a pot of tea.
That's what I had, anyway.

After such a meal, Hastings, I think I
would return to my bed.

No, no, no. This will suffice for
Poirot.

Is there anything in the English cuisine
that you like, Poirot?

The English, they do not have a cuisine,
my friend. They have only the food.

Well, that's a bit harsh. Like the meat,
overcooked. The vegetables, too soft.

The cheese, inedible.

And the day the English create their own
wines is the day I return home to

Belgium.

Oh, this new restaurant should be right
up your street, then.

Le Jardin des Seniors.

It's opening this week in German Street.

They say it'll serve the best French
food in London.

All flown in specially.

Le Jardin des Seniors.

That name, it is familiar to me.

The, uh, garden of, uh, scenes?

Swans, Hastings, swans.

Oh, well, perhaps they'll be on the
menu.

All looks very exotic.

What do you say, Poirot? Dinner for two?

I say, Hastings, it is time for work.

Thank you.

And there is Miss Lamont.

Just a l 'heure.

Bonjour, Miss Lemon.

What is it that you have there?

I found it with the post.

I suppose someone must have left it for
you, an admirer, perhaps?

The yellow iris.

First, le jardin des signes, and now
this.

It is a conspiracy.

Poor thing. Hastings, why do you now
mention this restaurant to me? And you,

Miss Lemon.

I didn't mean to. The yellow iris.

I say, old chap, are you feeling all
right?

Can I get you anything, Mr. Poirot?

No, thank you, Miss Lemon.

Please, do sit.

There is something I must get out of my
chest.

The yellow iris?

Yes, Hastings, the yellow iris.

It reminds me of a case that I was not
able to solve. I don't believe it.

Through no fault of my own, Miss Lemon.

You will recall, Hastings, that you once
asked me to visit you when you were

living in the Argentine?

Oh, that was two years ago.

You were going to come, but you
cancelled at the last minute.

That is true, I said as much, but it was
not quite like that.

I was looking forward to my visit to
you, Hastings.

It was to be my first time in the
Argentine.

I broke my journey in Buenos Aires and
was due to travel to your ranch in Los

Pampas.

However, because a general strike had
disrupted the transport services, I was

forced to book into a hotel.

You are a liar and a cheat, and I don't
ever want to see you again.

Pauline. All those things you said to
me, all those promises you made, you're

not interested in me at all.

That's not true. You're just using me to
get your rotten interview with Barton.

I meant what I said.

I'm in love with you.

It's true, I do want the interview,
but... Well, the answer is no.

I won't help you. You can't come to the
dinner, and I don't want to see you

again.

The path of true love.

It was all going so smoothly until...
Wait a minute.

I know you.

I've seen your picture.

You're Hercule Poirot.

The rumours are that President McGowan
can't last much longer.

He is old?

79, but that's not the point.

He's out of touch.

He's got the military on one side and
the Catholics on the other. It's just a

matter of time before one of them pushes
him out.

It is for this reason that you are here?

No, I'm following Barton Russell and his
partner, Stephen Carter.

In fact, that's Carter over there with a
drink in his hand.

There's been a huge oil strike down in
the south, and they're after the

concession. They set up a company
together, Sovereign Oil.

Thank you.

Santé. Cheers.

So, tell me.

What of your young lady?

Pauline Weatherby.

You must have read about the beautiful
Weatherby girls.

Pauline and Iris, daughters of Lord
Weatherby?

No.

He was a labour peer. He made his
fortune in textiles. When he died, Iris

all.

And Iris Weatherby, she is also here?

Of course.

She's Barton Russell's wife.

She'll be there tonight.

Le Jardin de Cygne.

Barton's having a big dinner. And I was
trying to get Pauline to invite me.

You see, I think Barton Russell's up to
something.

And I want to be the first person to
find out what.

So, General, do we have a deal?

You have been most persuasive, Senor
Russell.

Governor Bonds.

It seemed appropriate.

Let us consider it silent and sit.

There was Hastings in the hotel and
atmosphere.

It was not just the heat, but the
uncertainty.

I could also feel a growing sense of
unease and indeed of fear.

I'm sorry, senor.

Happens every day now. It's complete
confusion.

Have this one.

Thank you. Room 217, if you please.

217.

Thank you.

Mr. Poirot, isn't it?

Yes. I saw you talking to that writer.

You're not here on business, are you?

No, no, no, monsieur. I am en route to
La Pampa.

Then I should get a move on, if I were
you. Pretty dangerous around here.

Buenos Aires really isn't the place to
be.

You're most kind, Monsieur. Thank you.

Thank you.

Hello, Iris.

What's happened to the electricity?

Don't tell me it's another power cut.

May I have my key, please? Iris, I need
to speak to you.

Now? May I take this?

Yes, of course.

Where's Martin? I don't know. I haven't
seen him.

Who's that man you're talking to?

Nobody.

Only a tourist.

I didn't think there were any tourists
in Buenos Aires. It's hardly the time.

That's what I've been trying to tell
him.

Iris.

I beg you.

You don't know what you're doing.

That's exactly what I'm doing. I'm going
to stop. It's too late.

For you, maybe.

Iris, please.

You'll destroy me. You should have
thought of that before you got involved

affair like this. What does it matter?
Nobody knows about it. I know.

I can't live with it, Stephen.

I just can't live with it.

Never will I forget the words of Iris
Weatherby.

For it was then that I resolved that I
too would take dinner that night at a

restaurant called Le Jardin des Sceaux.

Carino, it's sweet of you to invite me.
Lola.

You look wonderful.

Let me introduce you.

You know my wife, Iris?

Of course.

Pauline, her sister?

Enchanted. And this is my new partner,
Stephen Carter.

How do you do? How do you do?

Lola Valdez. Her dancing is the talk of
the Argentine.

You will forgive me, Barton. I bring
with me a young English friend.

Good evening, sir.

Good evening.

He's a periodista, a journalist.

And he will write a grand piece on me to
tell the whole of England about me.

He's doing us all a favor.

Please, Mr. Chappell, join us.

Well,

you certainly got a nerve, Mr. Chappell.
I had to get in somehow.

story? Hell with the story. I came to
see you.

The food here is said to be excellent.

You did not see my new review, Mrs.
Russell?

No, I'm not fond of dancing.

You missed a wonderful performance,
darling.

I'd like to dance before I eat.

Do you mind?

No. Enjoy yourself.

The city, it was about to ignite.

The military, it was everywhere.

And many of the streets, they were
closed.

This was the background against which
the dinner of Barton Russell was to take

place.

Allow me to introduce myself.

I am Luigi De Monaco.

Le patron.

Welcome to Le Jardin des Signes.

You are too kind, Signor Luigi. But you
must excuse my lateness. I was delayed.

There is some disturbance in the town.
In this town, there is always some

disturbance. Please.

The best table for my distinguished
guest.

Thank you.

Thank you, partner.

Thank you.

Oh, that was fun.

It's that detective.

What's he doing here?

It's a free country.

At least it was when we came in.

Which reminds me, I have to telephone my
stockbroker in London before he goes to

bed. Please excuse me.

Merci. I see you favor the red rose of
England.

If it disturbs you, signora, I have it
removed. No, not at all.

It is a symmetry only.

On all of the tables, the red rose.

Except on that one table, the yellow
iris. It is a command, monsieur.

A special order.

They are the favorite flowers of la
bella signora.

Madame. Yes, Russell.

My husband insisted.

A true romantic.

Please, enjoy your meal.

Merci.

Ladies, gentlemen, I want to make a
toast.

A man is never happier to have his
friends around him than when he's in a

foreign city far from home.

So my toast is to you.

And especially to my dear wife, Iris.

What can I say?

Well, in the words of the song, I shall
think of you...

Until I die.

Iris.

Iris.

Thank you.

I'm sorry.

But that seems high night.

Voila.

What are you saying?

Iris didn't kill herself. She'd never
kill herself.

No, my God. I suggest you touch nothing
until the police arrive.

My worst fears had been realized.

And yet even as I prepared to
investigate the death of Iris Russell...

Events were taking over.

When I came down to breakfast the next
day, the hotel, it was deserted. The

guests and the staff, it seemed, had
fled.

Mr. Poirot, have you heard the news?

It's incredible. There's been a coup d
'etat.

President Rogoin, the rumors are he's
been shot. In any event, the military

in control.

Well, then it appears you will have your
story after all.

What with everything today and Iris.

I'm sorry.

Once again, mademoiselle, you have my
condolences.

I just can't believe it, Mr. Poirot.

Iris would never have killed herself.

You are Hercules Poirot?

Yes, I am.

You are under arrest.

Wait a minute. Be silent.

You'll come now.

Don't worry about you, Poro.

I'll call the French embassy.

No, no, no, no. The Belgian embassy.

We know all about you, Senor Poirot.

You are here to engage in espionage.

You have my passport?

A forgery.

Do you appreciate that I could have you
taken outside now and shot?

I wish to see the consul.

You will see no one.

There is a ship leaving us another in
one hour.

You will be on it.

But no argument.

Leave it alone.

And that was the end of it.

I was taken to a ship and deported on
the same day in a cabin of the third

class.

So that's why you never came.

But why on earth didn't you tell me?

Hercule Poirot?

Arrested and deported like a common
criminal?

It was something that I preferred not to
describe.

So who did kill Iris Russell?

It was never discovered, Miss Lemon.

The official verdict, it was suicide.

Et c 'est possible.

The body, it was sent back to England.

The case, it was closed.

Until now.

Yes.

The yellow iris.

Do you think it could have been sent to
you as a warning?

A new Jardin des Cines opens in London.

And on the day it is announced, a yellow
iris arrives through the post.

No.

Hastings, I think it comes rather as a
call for help.

But from whom?

It is that that we must now find out.

Who owned the restaurant, Poirot? His
name here seems was Luigi, an Italian.

An Italian with a French restaurant in a
South American city.

Now he's opened up here in London.

Signor Poirot.

I'm so glad you are here.

Signor Luigi.

It happens all over again.

A disaster.

Signor Rosso. He telephones to make a
reservation.

Six people, he says. Just like last
time.

Yeah, once again he demands the yellow
iris. But this time, la povera Signora

Russell, she is not here.

They come on Friday.

Si. My opening night.

Exactly two years since the last
occasion.

Good Lord.

And you say six places.

Monsieur Barton Russell and five others.

A reunion?

Hastings, I need a guide to the London
theatres.

Let's take it from the top.

Okay, that's it for tonight. Thank you
very much. Thank you.

What was that?

I was wondering whether you remember
that fateful night in the Jardin des

when we were in Buenos Aires.

Of course I remember.

That terrible night.

The police, such brutes.

There are so many questions.

And why? It was obvious.

You believe that Madame Harris Russell,
she committed the suicide?

Of course she committed suicide.

But for what reason?

Because she knew Barton no longer loved
her.

How well did you know her?

I didn't know her. She never talked to
me. To a dancer.

Have you seen since that time Mr. Barton
Russell?

Yes. He's a good friend to me.

And I need the friends.

I have lost everything.

Did you have to leave the Argentine?

The new regime.

I had too many friends in the old
government.

And now I am in exile.

It is the loss of the Argentine.

You are kind.

But tell me, Senor Poirot.

What is the purpose of your visit?

We came, Hastings and I, to welcome you
personally to this country and to inform

you that we will be attending your
performance on Friday night.

Then I am afraid I must disappoint you.

There is no performance.

I have an arrangement for dinner.

It is, in fact, amusing.

You know, there is now a new Jack Dundas
scene in London.

Well, I go there.

How could you write this?

I just don't understand you.

Pauline, I'm a journalist.

Anthony, you're a fink.

Pauline, come back, Pauline.

Mr. Porro, very nice to see you again,
Mr. Chappell. My associate, Captain

Hastings.

Come in.

Talk about history repeating itself.
Another hour with Pauline and suddenly

show up again.

And there's this dinner on Friday.

Oh, so you're invited too? Yes, and
Pauline.

We're engaged to be married.

At least we were, after this little
confidant. Who knows?

It is for this reason we are here.

You have spoken to Monsieur Barton
Russell?

No, he's lying low.

If you want to know the honest truth,
it's Stephen Carter I feel sorry for.

what reason?

He was never in Barton's league.

He was basically a subcontractor for the
British government.

They were back here to find oil
somewhere up in the north of England.

Derbyshire or somewhere.

So why on earth did Barton want to work
with him?

That's a good question.

Anyway, Carter wanted the big time. The
oil concession's worth millions.

This oil business, it is always full of
the risks, that's bad.

Yes, but they had the concession in
their hands.

They won it from a chap called Pereira.

Pereira? Wasn't he the one who arrested
you?

General Pereira, yes.

After the coup, he became Minister of
Oil.

But in your article you say that he is
no longer in power?

Exactly. It seems he's been found with
his hand in the till once too often,

for the Argentine government.

It looks like he's for the chop, and if
he goes, Sovereign Oil will go with him.

Yes,

Mr. Poirot, I'm getting out.

Going back to what I'm best at.

And what is that, Monsieur Carter?

I had my own business, you know.

Before Sovereign Oil.

Before... Barton Russell.

And you now return to this business?

Yes, if I can untangle it from this
mess.

But I understand that much of your
finance came from the government.

Yes. We were excavating for them in
Derbyshire and up in Scotland.

work.

Although, of course, there were only
small returns.

I suppose that's what attracted you to
Selbridge.

Yes.

It was an adventure.

That strike in Santa Cruz.

And if we'd held on to it... But now you
have lost the concession, Mr. Carter.

Yes. Just two more weeks and we'd have
had that oil flowing.

We won that contract fair and square,
Mr. Poirot.

And now we've got nothing.

And I'm out.

Thank you, Mr. Carter.

One last question, if I may.

M. Carter, are you to see again M.
Barton Russell?

As a matter of fact, I'm dining with him
this week.

At Le Jardin des Cines?

Yes. I had a feeling that's why you'd
come here.

Two years to the day.

I don't really see what business it is
of yours, M. Poirot, if I choose to have

a private meal with friends.

You say friends?

And yet, one of them, he is a journalist
who has just written something about

you that is most unflattering, and the
other is a businessman who has decided

that he will do with you no further
business.

I see you've been busy.

Oui, bien sûr.

And there is one thing that I still do
not understand.

What is that?

Anthony Chappell, Stephen Carter, Lola
Valdez, Mademoiselle Pauline, and your

good self.

That is five persons, huh?

And yet the table, it is for six.

As I said, Mr. Poirot, it's none of your
business.

The sixth place is for Iris.

Come. It's a commemorative dinner.

The second anniversary of her death.

And we've all got to be there.

Pauline. Well, I think it's a horrible
idea.

I don't want to go.

You will come, Pauline.

Yes.

But you can't boss me around forever,
Barton. Just one more month.

Excuse me. I'm going to go home.

One moment.

I'm sorry.

Please. Thank you.

Anyway, now you know.

Monsieur Russell, if you would be so
kind as to tell me...

This dinner, why do you have it, huh?

Why do you wish to recreate the night of
the death of your wife?

All right, I'll tell you.

It's very simple, Mr. Poirot.

I know.

I have always known.

Iris did not commit suicide.

She was killed by one of the people
sitting at that table.

And tomorrow night, I intend to find out
which.

I must reserve for myself immediately.

From tomorrow night, a table at Le
Jardin des Cines.

You want to be in it to kill, eh? It is
exactly that, Hastings. Twice it is

arranged. The dinner, the restaurant,
the guests.

And tomorrow night, I must be there.

To prevent a second death.

I don't like you going to this
restaurant, Mr. Poirot. It could be

Ah, but when Poirot himself is involved,
he too is dangerous, Miss Lama.

I still wish Captain Hastings were going
with you.

Ah, yes.

The good Captain Hastings.

By now he should be in Norfolk, the
village of Recombe.

Why did you send him there, Mr. Poirot?

What do you want him to find?

A motive for murder.

years to the day.

I hope you don't mind my coming here,
Mr. Grove.

I'm very glad you did, Captain Hastings.

You see, I was her father's solicitor.

Lord Weatherby, you know.

A wonderful man.

Served under Ramsay MacDonald.

And Iris Russell inherited his fortune.

And his ideals.

She was such a beautiful girl.

It was a tragedy.

You were telling me about Iris's will.

Oh, there's no secret about it. You see,
her husband, Barton Russell, was a

wealthy man in his own right. So her
money was passed across to her sister,

Pauline, to be held in trust until her
21st birthday.

I suppose you were the trust's
administrator.

Oh, no. Mr. Russell is the
administrator.

His wife made him Pauline's guardian.

So if Pauline were to die, does that
mean that Barton would inherit the

No.

You see...

Pauline has made a will of her own.

Although, well, I mustn't speculate
about Pauline's intentions.

And yet, sometimes I feel afraid for
her.

Captain Hastings, what I can tell you is
this.

When she signed the will, she was
accompanied by a young man. I assumed

be her fiancé.

Make of that what you will.

Adam, welcome to the Jardin du Cid.

Sir, here we all are.

Signor Poirot.

Signor Luigi.

Bonsoir. They are all here? Si.

And I have a message for you.

Merci.

Ah, from Captain Hastings. C 'est bien.

Signor Luigi, that table you have for
me, I have for it no further need.

I know it seems a little odd celebrating
the second anniversary of a death in

this way, but I have a reason, and I
think it's time I explain.

Two years ago, my wife died at a table
like this.

in a room like this.

The same five people surrounded her.

The police, the Argentine police,
recorded a verdict of suicide.

But I have known.

I have always known.

And tonight you wish to establish the
truth, Mr. Russell.

Mr. Poirot, I wasn't expecting you.

But I was there on the first night, was
I not?

That's true. And I also have a desire to
establish the truth.

You permit?

Let him stay, Barso.

You're right, Mr. Poirot. You should be
here. You're welcome to join us. Thank

you.

What's going on?

What were you going to say, Bar?

Monsieur Russell was about to say that
he believes that his wife was murdered

someone seated around this table.

Wait a minute.

It would have harmed her. It's crazy.

Of course it is.

Iris committed suicide.

Everybody knows that.

I do not believe that she committed
suicide.

And I can prove it.

I have to speak to the band. I have a
surprise for you.

Mr. Poirot, can't you stop him? Do not
worry yourself, Monsieur Carter.

Mr. Poirot, I'm afraid.

There is no need, mademoiselle.

My God.

It's the same song. What the hell is he
playing at?

I couldn't say for sure today whether
your eyes were blue or gray.

I've forgotten you.

I never think of you.

I never think of you.

I change my

It takes you back, doesn't it?

Come on, Carter.

Raise your glass.

What was our toast two years ago?

To Iris.

Absolument.

To Iris.

you then.

To Iris.

To Iris.

To Iris.

To Iris.

So what about him?

What other things are you going... Oh my
goodness.

What on earth?

No, that's not meant to happen.

Boing!

La pauvre petite.

And I, who thought I could protect her.

Protect her?

You helped kill her.

I'm cold.

I have sent for some coffee,
mademoiselle.

I prefer something stronger.

It's my fault.

I should have known.

Pauline always said...

She knew something about Iris. That was
why she was killed.

No, Monsieur Russell.

That was not the reason why Mother
Pauline had to die.

Then why?

No, no, no, no, no, no. That is not the
question we must ask.

We have here two murders.

And in order to solve the second, we
must return two years to the first.

Why did Madame Iris Russell have to die?

So you agree she was killed, Monsieur
Davidon.

And there were perhaps several reasons.

For example, she stood in between you
and Monsieur Russell.

Between us?

Ridiculous! She also stood between her
youngest sister and the Great Fortune.

Pauline never cared about the money. But
you cared for my wizard, Pauline.

You would not have been happy, perhaps,
to marry an heiress.

What?

So I killed Iris so Pauline could
inherit?

And finally, she stood in the way of
you, monsieur.

Me? Yes, you, monsieur Carter.

You had the biggest gamble of your
career.

In the hotel in Buenos Aires.

I overheard.

Iris, you'll destroy me.

You should have thought of that before
you got involved in an affair like this.

What does it matter?

Nobody knows about it. I know.

But I can't live with it, Stephen.

What was the affair of which Madam Iris
Russell spoke?

There was no affair.

No love affair, perhaps, but a business
affair?

I can see with the eyes of my mind and I
will speak.

Please show us what you have in your
breast pocket.

What?

What are you saying?

Do what he says.

Put it there.

But that seems silent.

The case, it is complete.

Carter.

I always knew it was you.

Why? Why do you not tell us what really
happened in Buenos Aires, Mr. Carter?

I can't. The shadow of a noose hangs
over you.

No. Very well.

Then I will tell it.

Your coffee, sir.

Bring it in.

The oil concessions that were acquired
by yourself and Monsieur Russell, they

were not acquired from the legitimate
government of President Rogoyan.

You're right.

It was Barton's idea.

Sir General, do we have a deal?

He could tell there was going to be a
coup.

Government bonds.

So he went straight to the rebels, to
General Pereira. And the money that was

paid, the money that would assist the
rebels to gain power from where had he

come? It was mine.

No, Monsieur Carter.

It was money entrusted to you by the
government of Britain for excavations in

this country.

Oh, my God.

And that is what Madame Iris Russell had
discovered, and that is why she had to

be silenced.

The daughter of a labor peer, could she
stand by and watch as government funds

were used to support a military jumper?

Of course not. And you killed her,
Carter.

No.

Wait.

Everything you say is true, but I didn't
kill her.

It was him.

He had as much to lose as me.

But, Monsieur Carter, you forget.

The Monsieur Russell, he was not even at
the table when the champagne, it was

being served.

Exactly. And tonight also.

Barton was not there.

But wait a minute.

If Carter put the poison in Pauline's
glass, I'd have seen him. I was next to

her.

Exactement. So you mean he didn't kill
her?

It was not I who said that he did.

Merci.

Well, if it wasn't Carter, who was it?

Who indeed?

In Buenos Aires, who could approach the
table with impunity?

invisible in the crowd, poison a drink,
and at the same time,

provide the evidence of a suicide.

And tonight also, who circled around the
table holding a bottle of champagne?

Only this time it was Mademoiselle
Pauline who was to be the victim, and

Monsieur Carter who was to take the
blame.

In the dark, when the attention of
everyone is elsewhere, seen by everyone

yet unseen, the murderer can plant the
evidence and then vanish again.

If he is disguised as a waiter, can he
not, Monsieur Russell?

What are you saying?

Why should I have wanted to kill
Pauline?

This evening I learned that you are the
guardian of Mademoiselle Pauline.

And that you hold her money in trust
until she is 21?

What of it? That time is to be very
soon.

I understand that you have also suffered
huge losses in the Argentine.

I think it will be discovered that the
money of Mademoiselle Pauline has gone

and that you have spent it.

This is ridiculous.

I'm in this waiter business. Are you
really telling me nobody would have

noticed?

Did you notice the waitress who served
you with coffee just a few moments ago?

What?

Pauline.

I don't understand.

How is it possible?

Pauline.

I thought I'd lost you.

Mr. Poirot told me when he sat next to
me, he said not to touch the champagne.

I was just to pretend to drink it and
then pretend to be dead.

And you played the part back to
perfection, mademoiselle.

But tell me, mademoiselle Pauline, it
was you, was it not, who sent to me the

yellow iris?

I was very frightened.

I didn't want to believe it.

But I knew.

I have always known.

And so you called for Poirot.

And Poirot, he was there.

Poirot.

He stinks.

Mon ami.

How did it go?

By the case it is solved. And your
message, Hastings, it was most useful.

Oh, good.

There is just one thing.

What's that?

With all this affair, I've not been able
to eat.

Oh, I see. That's a bit rough.

Not going to be easy finding somewhere
at this time of night.

That is true.

I do know one place, though.

English cuisine.

There's nothing like it in the world.
You must agree, Poirot.

It be a hastings when it is cold and
dark and there is nothing else to eat.

It is... possible.