All language subtitles for 05 - The Adventure of the Italian Nobleman

And if he tries to trick us?

How? Tries to trick us?

If he doesn't give me what we want.

There's no reason not to give it to us.

In the end, we'll have both.

What we need.

So?

We don't want trouble.

Yes, yes.

I think it looks very untidy, Hastings.

Well, it's not meant to be tidy.

Tidy's got nothing to do with it.

It's compact, though, you have to admit
that.

They're using twin overhead camshafts,
you see, with desmodromic valve gear and

a hemispherical combustion chamber.

I see.

Ah, Mr. Bettini.

How are you today?

Oh, pretty well, you know.

This is Monsieur Hercule Poirot.

Ah, the great detective.

I must watch my step, eh?

It's a pleasure to meet you, Signor
Poirot.

Delighted, Monsieur de Tignes.

Well, Signor de Tignes, you placed the
order today.

Well... Oh, Signor de Tignes.

It's a big decision.

Seven weeks, Signor de Tignes. And the
factory of El Sofreccio in Milan, they

stand wait.

Will the order of Capitano Hastings come
today?

Well, I've been thinking... Mr. Vizzini,
excuse me. You'll be late for your

lunch with Mr. Andreotti.

Thank you, Margherita.

Gentlemen, I will leave you in the
capable hands of Signorina Fabri.

Excuse me.

I was just going to say to Mr.

Vizzini... With this new trailing link
front suspension, I wonder if you don't

need some sort of stabilizer.

No.

No?

The radius rod trailing from the
crossmember locates each hub fore and

Yes, well, I appreciate that.

And each unit's damped by the inclined
telescopic strut.

Right. Yes.

You will have to make up your mind,
Hastings. Well, I'm going to.

Tomorrow's the last day.

I've got it marked in my diary.

It says, decide about car.

I say, Poirot.

What is it, Hastings? Miss Clemens is
not here.

No? It's twenty past two.

Here she is now.

Hastings, please, I'm trying to read
this letter.

Mr. Poirot, I'm so sorry. Sorry. Not at
all, Miss Lemon. It is of no importance.

Your friend, he's well?

Well, he... We went to the Lion's Corner
house.

How very nice.

Thank you, Miss Lemon.

Thank you, Mr. Poirot.

Oh, Miss Lemon.

Why do you not invite your friend, Mr...
How does he call himself?

Mr. Graves.

Yes, indeed. Why do you not invite your
friend, Mr. Graves, to tea one day?

Oh, yes.

Thank you, Mr. Poirot.

As a matter of fact, Mr. Graves was most
interested when I told him I worked for

you. He's very interested in that sort
of thing.

Excellent. Thank you, Miss Lemon.

as an admirer?

No.

If you sign here and here.

How long is delivery?

There are three arriving at the dock
tomorrow.

I'll telephone and... Excuse me a
minute.

Oh, God.

Good.

Another customer?

What? Oh, no, that was my uncle. Just a
family matter. Oh, right.

You'll want the check now, then.

Ah,

Hastings.

You bought your car?

Bought and paid for.

Captain Hastings, this is Mr.

Graves. How do you do? How do you do?

I was just saying to Monsieur Poirot how
much I envy you all. The exciting

business you're in. Well, you know.

Please. Thank you.

I stayed on in the Navy after the war. I
should have come out in 1919.

Mr. Graves still has a boat.

Not from the Navy, I hope.

Oh, no.

Show them the picture, Edwin.

All right.

There.

Oh, very trim.

Fantasia Felice.

As a matter of fact, Monsieur Poirot...
No.

Yes, Monsieur Grant.

No, it's...

Oh, well, why not? It's just that I was
going to say I was very near to

consulting a private detective myself
earlier today.

Indeed. What happened, Edward?

Well, I've been with my employer for 11
years.

He's a foreign gentleman living in
London. And in what capacity does he

you, Mr. Graves? Mr. Graves is a private
secretary.

Some very confidential papers were
recently stolen.

My employer has been asked to try to buy
these papers back for his government.

He used to be a diplomat.

Oh, dear, I don't quite know how to...
We are talking about blackmail here, are

we not, Monsieur Verrett?

Well, these papers do contain
information which would, well, do no

reputation of the leader of that
particular country.

And the truth is...

I don't trust the other party involved.

And with the blackmailer, of course, one
has to be sure that the evidence, it is

destroyed root and boot.

Branch.

Thank you, Hastings.

But we must have more details, Mr.
Graves.

No.

That's what's so dash difficult.

One hint of scandal would put the kibosh
on the whole thing.

No, look, I shouldn't have brought this
up. I'm sorry.

Could I have another cup of tea,
Felicity?

It's very daring of you, I must say,
Hastings, going in for one of these

cars. It's too complicated for the likes
of me.

I'll stick to my little Riley, I think.

We mustn't talk about cars. We'll bore
Poirot to distraction.

Oh, half the fun in buying cars, talking
about it.

Would you answer that, Miss Ryder?
Certainly, Doctor.

If it's an emergency, tell them to take
two aspirin and keep warm.

I shall never buy a motor car.

But if I did, I should ask only three
questions.

One, does it have the correct number of
wheels?

Two, are those wheels firmly attached to
the corners of the machine?

Doctor, it was for you.

It was a terrible voice.

What's wrong, Miss Ryder?

I answered the telephone, and this voice
said, Help.

It said, Doctor, help.

They've killed me.

And then it sort of trailed away.

Who's speaking, I said.

And then there was this... Well, it was
just a whisper.

Foskatine.

Addisland Court.

Count Foskatine.

Hello?

Hello?

Is he serious?

What's going on?

I am Count Foscatini's doctor.

I received a telephone call from the
Count saying he'd been attacked and was

dying. Would you have a key?

Count Foscatini?

I'd better telephone the police.

He's dead.

But that must have been the weapon.

Possibly.

Hastings, make a search of the
apartment.

Almost instantaneous, I would have said.

I wonder he even managed to telephone.

Nothing. What do you see, Poirot?

Exactly what you see, mon ami.

Two coffee cups, both with the remains
of black coffee.

A dish of fruit.

Nobody's used their dessert plates,
though.

Two glasses.

Port.

Doesn't seem to shed much light on
anything.

The police are on their way.

Excuse me, doctor.

S 'il vous plaît, monsieur.

This meal, was it provided by your
kitchens here?

Flat 10.

Order for two from the a la carte menu
sent down by Lyft.

Soup julienne, filet de sole Normande,
tuna dough of beef, and a rice souffle.

They were not wrong with my food, you
know. This kitchen's a showplace for

hygiene.

Yes, yes, indeed.

One can perceive.

It would be impossible, therefore, I
imagine, to examine the dishes from the

apartment. Washed up, dried up, stacked
up, long since.

Thinking of fingerprints, were you?

Not exactly, monsieur.

I am more interested in the appetite of
Count Foscatini.

Did he partake of every dish?

We don't label the plates, you know,
with everybody's names.

But all the plates from ten were dirty,
and the serving dish is empty, so he

must have eaten something.

Let him finish the photographs before
you check for prints, Beddows.

Thank you for your help, Dr Hawker.

Ah, well, well, well.

I managed to get here before you this
time, fire.

No, no, not at all, Chief Inspector.
I've just been upstairs interviewing the

chef.

Oh, blimey.

Haven't you finished in here yet?

All right, sir. Working as fast as we
can.

A sad occasion, this one.

Violent death is so wasteful.

God knows death comes soon after us all
anyway.

Monsieur Poirot, what are you doing
here?

What's happened?

Monsieur Graves.

Where's my master?

Oh, yeah.

My name's Graves. I'm Count Foscatini's
valet.

What's happened?

Your master's been murdered.

That's what's happened.

Yesterday, another Italian gentleman
came to see the Count. Sir, I'm here to

Count Moscatini.

What name shall I say, sir? Mario
Ascanio. He's expecting me.

Come in, sir.

I showed him in, although the Count
hadn't told me he was coming.

Signor Ascanio to see you, sir.

Avanti! Entra, signor Ascanio.

Come sta?

Tut bene, grazie.

Great.

Go to Bates and collect that trilby
they've been re -blocking for me, will

Certainly.

So you went out.

You don't know what went on between
them.

Well, sir, I was very surprised the
Count asked me to leave when we had a

visitor, so I did sort of linger for a
bit.

And what did you hear?

Hello. I'd like to order lunch for two,
flat ten.

It wasn't very clear, sir, but I know
they had lunch, because I heard the

order it.

Hmm, I see.

Well, go on.

Signor Ascanio seemed to have something
in his case which he was offering the

count. I'm not really sure, but I think
he was demanding money for it.

Ah, well, now we're getting somewhere.

Blackmail, eh? Oh, no, sir.

The Count was a most respectable man. If
blackmail was involved, I'm sure he was

acting for someone else.

But I don't know who.

All right.

What happened then?

Well, nothing until this afternoon, when
the Count told me the same gentleman

would be coming to dinner this evening.

And?

And he came.

I served them dinner, and after I'd
brought in the port, the Count said I

take the rest of the evening off.

They went into the study, and I went
out.

What time is that?

Just before nine, sir.

Do you think Foscatini was acting for
the Italian government?

Very possibly, Hastings.

Well, then why didn't Graves tell Joe?

Because obviously he's respecting the
wishes of the Count Foscatini not to

endanger the negotiations international.

The question is, Hastings, did Ascanio
take the money but not hand over the

papers? And since neither the money nor
the papers are here, that would appear

to be likely. And a powerful motivation
for murder.

That was under the desk.

Apparently the victim knocked it over as
he fell forward.

Ah, that's convenient.

Gives us the time of the murder, anyway.

Ten past nine.

That was the time at which Dr Hawker
received the telephone call.

Good.

Wait a minute.

I've seen him before.

At the garage when I bought my car.

It's Miss Fabry's uncle.

How on earth did Graves tell Miss Lemon
he was a private secretary when he's

really only a valet?

Hastings, have you never exaggerated
your own importance in order to impress

young lady?

Well, certainly not.

Never.

Oh. Well, I once told a girl I was a
member at Wentworth when I wasn't. But

didn't play golf anyway.

She thought Wentworth was a lunatic at
Harlem.

Excuse me, gents.

There's no one there.

They're all at the wedding.

At the roof gardens.

I'm the only one left.

I'm not Italian.

We shall never find her here.

We've got to tell her. We can't just let
her find out from the newspapers.

But we don't know anything.

Hello, Miss Fabry.

Now, where's that?

I'm sorry to break in like this.

We've got some bad news, I'm afraid.

Oh. It's your uncle.

My uncle?

The one who came to see you at the show,
Count Foscatini.

Ah, my uncle.

I'm sorry.

I'm afraid he's dead.

Murdered.

Oh, excuse me.

I'm sorry, excuse me.

She seems to be taking it rather badly.

Yeah.

looking for Ascanio?

Yeah.

He's not there.

Not been there since Monday.

Chaps says Ascanio's bolted.

They've put a watch on all the ports in
case he tries to get back to Italy, but,

uh...

Il primo segretario will see you now.

Good afternoon, Monsieur Poirot.

Captain Hastings.

Do sit down, please.

After your telephone call, Monsieur
Poirot, I had some inquiries, mate.

We at the embassy have no knowledge of
Count Foscatini.

His manservant seems to think you do.

Yes, he thought that he was working on
behalf of the Italian government in some

negotiations very delicate.

No.

What about this Mario Ascanio?

Have you had any dealings with him?

Italian government does not deal with
Masnadieri.

So you do know who he is?

Our embassy throughout the world tried
to keep as full a record as possible of

known Masnadieri.

Ascanio appears on several of them.

What was he saying? About making a
register of some Italian thing?

The Masnada Hastings is a very secret
ancient confederation of gangs spread

across the world from Naples where it
started.

Like this Mafia whatnot I read about?

No, it is older than the Mafia.

So, what's the connection between the
Masnada and Foscatini? I do not know,

ami. Perhaps they came into possession
of these papers, which we are told so

embarrassed the Italian government.

And Ascania was the man deputed to sell
them back.

Just as the government deputed the so
-called Foscatini to buy them.

The embassy say they've never heard of
him. What else would they say?

I didn't think you'd have anything to do
with me if you thought I was a servant.

No. Well, would you?

Probably not.

But that's my fault.

It doesn't matter whose fault it is. The
right nobody's fault.

The way we're all brought up to think.

Thank you.

Monsieur Poirot.

Monsieur Graves.

Any news?

Very little, I fear.

Escanio is nowhere to be found.

Oh.

Oh, well, I'd best be off, Felicity.

Goodbye, Monsieur Poirot.

Monsieur Graves.

I... I should never have left the Count
alone last night.

I mean, I told you, didn't I, that I
didn't trust Ascania.

But it is not your fault, Mr. Graves.

And I just ups and offs to a music hall.

You want to know, Edwin.

You must dismiss it from your mind.

Yes.

Well, goodbye, Captain Hastings.

Goodbye, Mr. Graves.

I've discovered something rather
interesting, Mr. Poirot.

What is that, Miss Lemieux?

Who was Count Foscatini?

Come on.

Well, there isn't any such person.

What do you mean?

I looked up Count Foscatini in your
Almanac de Gota, and there's no such

and never has been, as far as I could
see.

I didn't like to tell Mr. Graves. He's
quite upset enough already.

You see, Hastings, in every case of
murder, we spend so much time wondering

is the killer that we do not consider
the identity of the victim.

There's a Mr. Derrida to see you, Mr.
Poirot.

From the Italian Embassy.

Show him in, Miss Lemon.

This way, Mr. Derrida.

Il primo segretario told you that he
does not deal with them as nada, I

Il primo segretario does everything by
the rule book.

Ascanio came to the embassy this
morning, trying to sell some papers.

What papers? What was in them?

I don't know, but I'd like to.

If Ascanio gets them back to Italy,
we'll never know.

Is that where he has gone?

That is the only other place he could
sell them.

Has he left London already?

He left his house.

He said we could contact him at Jenkins
Hotel in Bloomsbury.

Are you sure he's in his room, sir?

The man in position right at the back?
Yes, sir.

Come on, open up!

Come on, man, put your shoulder into me.

I'll do my best, sir.

Your name is Scarnia? Yes.

I want to ask you a few questions, Mr.
Ascarnia.

About what?

Never mind the clever talk.

Where's the money?

What money?

I see.

Where were you between 8 and 9 o 'clock
yesterday evening?

Between 8 and 9?

Here. Oh, yes?

Well, we have reason to doubt that, Mr.
Ascarnia.

We have reason to believe that you were
having dinner with a Count Foscatini at

his flat in Addisland Court.

I do not know any Count Foscatini.

And you've never heard, perhaps, of
Addisland Court?

No, I've never heard of Addisland Court.

Well, then, it's very coincidental that
here's the remains of a piece of paper

that's been burning in your grate that
has the words Addisland Court printed on

it.

Well, that's that.

On the contrary, mon ami.

That is by no means that.

Well, the case against him seems pretty
strong to me.

Indeed.

Ascani was blackmailing the Italian
government.

Yes. And Foscatini is employed by that
government to pay money to retrieve

incriminating papers from Ascani. Right.
So where is the motive for Ascani to

kill Foscatini?

Well... And where is the money?

Well... And another thing we must
consider most carefully, Hastings, is

window in the dining room of Count
Froschettini. The window?

But it was fastened.

Nobody could have got in or out that
way, I noticed especially.

Precisement.

Has Ascanio confessed to the murder yet,
Chief Inspector?

Not yet, but we're quietly confident,
you might say.

Did he have any large sum of money on
him? No.

But his prints match the prints on one
of the coffee cups and on one of the

glasses from Fosfatini's dining room.

And the motive of Ascanio?

Oh, well.

Got a bit of news there, Poirot.

News? Senior Mario Ascanio is on our
register of the Maznada.

Go on.

What do you mean, go on?

You asked about the motive.

Well, there you are.

It's the usual Maznada stuff.

Blackmail. Murder.

What will you do now, Mr. Graves? Look
for another situation?

Yes, I shall have to, sir. And they're
not easy to come by these days.

No, indeed.

Oh, Mr. Graves.

On the night of the murder of Count
Foscatini, these curtains in the dining

room, they were not drawn.

Not drawn, sir?

No.

No, they were open just as they are now.

But... But I'm sure I drew them, sir.

Yes, before I announced dinner, I drew
them.

And left the count drew them back
himself.

Why should he do that?

Well, perhaps he wanted to see something
outside.

I don't understand this case at all,
Poirot.

No, it is a puzzle, Hastings.

Hastings, come here for a moment,
please.

What is it? Look, I raise my right hand,
yes?

Yes. Good. Now tell me, what do you see
in the mirror?

What do you mean, what do I see in the
mirror? Just describe to me what you

Hastings.

You're lifting your hand.

Good. Which hand?

Your right hand.

It does not appear to you that I'm
lifting my left?

No.

Be my reflection, Hastings.

Now, which hand are you raising as I
raise my right?

I see what you mean.

I never thought about that.

It's really odd, isn't it? We have been
looking at this case as if in a mirror,

Hastings. We have seen everything the
wrong way round.

In what way?

Be so good as to collect the Chief
Inspector, Jacques, and meet me at

Court at three o 'clock. But Poirot...

Excuse me, Mr. Vizzini.

Mr. Poirot.

I'm not used to people calling
unexpectedly.

I usually send for them.

There is one question I have to ask you,
Mr. Vizzini.

A question?

A glass of wine.

No. Merci.

The man who calls himself Count
Foscatini...

With what was he blackmailing you?

Fulcratini had letters that would ruin
me if their contents became known to

certain people.

I sent one of my mathnadieri, Ascanio,
to buy Beck the letters.

Ascanio got the letters and then decided
to betray me and go into business on

his own account.

He killed Foscatini and made off with
the letters and the money.

You have not answered my question.

The letters contain certain information?

Very well.

They contain proof that I was giving
financial support to several anti

organizations.

But assuredly, that's because you know
how I'm in this country.

My dear Signor Perlo, several of my
business interests would have been

overnight.

Signor Elisos, Montecarlo's your
capitano, he thinks so much.

He is anxious to please Papa Mussolini.

He will close me down without a second
thought.

I can put your mind at rest on that
point, Monsieur Vecini.

The letters, they have been destroyed.

Ascanio has burned them.

And as for your money, Ascanio does not
have it.

And it is not in the apartment of Count
Foscatini.

Perhaps there is some hiding place of
which you know where Foscatini... Hiding

place?

There is, however, one point about which
you are totally mistaken.

Ascanio did not kill Count Foscatini.

There's only one place it can be.

When I said that we had been looking at
this case the wrong way round, it was

because I had been forced suddenly to
think about the victim.

And as soon as I did so, I apprehended
that the only way that this case made

sense to me at all was that the
Foscatini was the blackmailer.

Are you trying to tell us that Foscatini
was a blackmailer too?

Not too, Chief Inspector.

Foscatini was the blackmailer.

What do you mean?

The crucial point, as I suspected from
the start, is the dinner that came down

from the kitchens above and was served
at this table on the evening of the 6th

of May. Do you remember what that meal
consisted of, Hastings?

Uh, well, uh, I know there was some
soup.

Flat ten.

Order for two from the a la carte menu
sent down by Lyft.

Soup julienne, filet de sole Normande,
tuna dough of beef, and a rice souffle.

There were no wrong with my food, you
know.

And what did we find left on the table?

Two coffee cups, both with the remains
of black coffee.

A dish of fruit.

Nobody's used their dessert plates,
though.

And two glasses, both with the remains
of port.

Well done, Hastings.

But you see, Foscatini, he did not eat
any dinner.

I beg your pardon?

The report of the post -mortem from the
pathologist revealed that the stomach,

it was quite empty.

So, let us suppose that Ascanio made a
visit to Addis Lamport, to this

apartment, only the one time.

That would have been the day before the
murder.

Do you remember what Monsieur Graves
told to us?

I'm here to see Count Voskatini.

What name shall I say, sir?

Mario Ascanio. He's expecting me.

I showed him in, although the Count
hadn't said he was coming.

I'd like to order lunch for two, flat
ten.

I know they had lunch because I heard
the Count order it.

Signor Ascanio seemed to have something
in his case which he was offering the

Count. I'm not really sure, but I think
he was demanding money for it.

But if Ascanio didn't come here that
night, who did?

Who ate the dinner? The question answers
itself, does it not, Chief Inspector?

Who told us of the second visit of
Ascanio?

Graves, the servant.

I was suspicious when I saw that the
victim had replaced most carefully the

telephone receiver.

I knew when I saw that the curtains,
they were not closed.

But what had the curtains got to do with
it?

Count Foscatini was already dead manning
me by the time Mr. Graves ordered the

dinner.

The Count told me the same gentleman
would be coming to dinner this evening.

I served them dinner and...

After I brought in the port, the count
told me I could have the rest of the

evening off.

They went into the study, and I went
out.

There was only one person who could have
killed Count Foscatini.

Monsieur Graves.

What he told us about the second visit
was all lies.

In the same way he deceived us about his
position, he deceived us about the

events of that night.

And then, in order to mislead us, our
Monsieur Graves altered the clock before

he smashes it, and then he had to eat
both dinners himself.

Of course, he did not think to close the
curtains.

But if he ate both the dinners, how come
Ascanio's fingerprints were on the

glass and coffee cup?

He kept them back from when Ascanio
really came to lunch on the previous

But why would he want to kill his
master?

For the cash his master got from
Ascarnia, that's why.

He'll have enough money to go anywhere
he wants.

Let's hope we're not too late.

Sergeant Beddoes, get an immediate watch
put on all ports for one Edwin Graves.

Yes, that's right, the servant.

And aerodromes.

Wanted for the murder of Count
Foscatini.

Wait a minute.

He's got his boat. Boat? Where?

Oh, wait a minute.

Oh, Poirot, you remember the photograph.

Oh, very true.

Where was it?

Fantasia Felice? Where on earth did he
keep it?

Chichester. What?

That's what it said.

Fantasia Felice, Chichester.

This must be where it is hidden.

I hope you're right about this, Captain.
I think it's been stood away.

I know. It was Chichester.

We've told the local police they were
standing by.

I can't see it, one.

I've told him to stay well hidden.

Boom.

That's definitely the boat.

And there's an Eliso Freccia parked
right next to it.

Look.

Hello.

Graves's fancy woman?

Well, she's heading for the boat.

Pover Miss Lemon.

Oh, my Lord.

I'd forgotten about Miss Lemon.

Now what?

You'd better go on board.

Where is my money?

All right, all right, what's going on?

All we have to find now is the money.
And grapes.

Hey!

That's him!

Stop it!

You swine!

That's for Miss Lemon.

Come on, give us your hand.

Come on, you.

Don't you come.

Edwin Graves, I'm arresting you on a
charge of murder.

Murder?

He was nothing but a bloody blackmailer.

Take him away.

Monsieur Poirot.

Sir?

Hey! It's my money!

No. It's evidence.

Take Mrs. Graves to the car.

Sir?

I'm dreadfully sorry about your car, Mr.
Vizzini.

My car!

No.

It's your car.

My car?

I was on my way to deliver it when,
uh...

If the

senior thinks I'm paying him for that
wreck, I'll tell the bank to stop

So it wasn't Graves' boat at all?

No, Chief Inspector.

It was another piece of self
-aggrandizement from Mr. Graves. No, it

his. It belonged to his master.

The Fantasia Felice. No, Hastings. The
Fantasia Felice. The happy dream.

The happy dream.

I shall not forgive Mr. Graves,
Hastings.

He, a married man, in the cold blood,
used poor Miss Lemon to gain access to

Poirot.

And to plant into our minds a story
ridiculous of his master working for the

Italian government.

I'll talk to Miss Lemon if you like.

No, thank you, Hastings.

It is the duty of Poirot.

Miss Lemmon, Edwin has been arrested.

Edwin? Yes, Monsieur Krabs.

Good. It's about time.

Miss Lemmon.

Do you know what he was going to do?

No. He was going to have to move out of
Count Foscatini's flat.

So he was going to have the Count's cat
destroyed.

I couldn't be bothered to find a home
for it.