All language subtitles for 04 The Sittaford Mystery

What does it say?

It's a good luck prayer, I think.

And let it occur.

I'm out of here.

I can't go on forever, Clive.

It'll be all you wanted.

All you ever worked for.

They're already jockeying for position.

Eden, Butler, Macmillan, you must get
yourself up to the starting gate.

It is a race for the greatest prize of
all.

Follow you, sir.

Yes, sir.

I want to bet on a winner.

There is no heavier burden and no
greater reward than to be Prime Minister

this extraordinary nation of ours.

Only time.

Time.

Please, the moment.

What's stopping you?

What is it?

Do you have the black dog too?

He comes when you feel you can't go on.

Don't let the beast near you.

Following Mr Churchill's election
victory at the age of 76, people are

who will succeed him as leader of the
Conservative Party.

Those in the know tip Captain Clive
Trevelyan, DSO and Member of Parliament

Exhampton, the Devon constituency on the
edge of Dartmoor.

Away from Parliament, Captain Trevelyan,
bachelor and former Olympics skier,

prefers his home, Settlement House, to
the bright lights and society life

enjoyed by his warm.

Well -known playboy, James Pearson.

There you are.

You finally tracked me down, James.

What's this?

Shh, quiet, please.

Sorry.

Bring Mr. Pearson a cup of black coffee,
would you? No, I don't want coffee.

So, tell me what that letter means.

What does it look like?

It looks like...

A letter from you, threatening to
disinherit me unless I pull out my sock.

Having taken you in, orphaned as you
were in such sad circumstances, you have

repaid my investment in your upbringing
by wasting every opportunity and

displaying sheer ingratitude, etc.

I didn't write it.

Good evening, gentlemen. Good evening.

Gentlemen, good evening.

Sir, could you give a comment on your
meeting with the Prime Minister? The

Minister and I were simply having a
drink together in our club.

And what were you discussing?

Cricket. Do you see yourself as captain
of England, sir?

Well bowed, but no wicket.

That'll be all, gentlemen. Thank you.

Please.

Clive!

Clive!

Clive! Clive!

Turn off! Clive!

I'm very sorry.

But have you seen a nephew looking for
his aunt? Because we were supposed to

meet under the station clock and he
wasn't there. I think he may have got on

train without me thinking I got on the
train without him.

It's Captain Trevelyan, isn't it?

But my nephew is a neighbour of yours.

Raymond West, the novelist.

Really?

Well, I never...

I think for Clot of the Year, darling,
if you think pausing a scene in his

club's going to help you... Blue
Curacao.

And you're hours late. Men have been
circling. Well, tell them for me not to.

A creme de morce, cognac, Napoleon.

Thanks. Hello.

Charles Barnaby.

I'm Emily Trefusis.

Trefusis? Yes, that's Trefusis. We've
met at Ascot this year.

The Royal Enclosure?

A friend took me.

Hello again.

I don't remember you.

This is my fiancé, Jim Pearson.

This is Charles.

Charles?

More jiggly.

More, more, more, more. More, more,
more, more, more jiggly.

Perfect.

Isn't he handsome, Emily?

Jolly handy, too, I bet.

Sitting room sofa.

I love you.

Done.

Jim's right about you.

You are awfully handy.

Good night, Emily.

And what with Raymond's cottage being
next door to you at Sitterford House, if

one could be next door in a country
lane.

It does make sense to share the taxi
with the price of things these days.

Ah, what a stupid hill.

Here we are. There's a key under our
flowerpot, if he's not here.

Good evening, Captain.

Mr.

Enderby. I believe he's asleep.

And Harry?

Both of them.

Must have dropped off. He must have.

I dropped into the club.

Ah, so the papers were right then. What
do you mean?

You only go to the club if something's
afoot.

Discreet hugger -mugger about your
prospect.

How was your week?

Ah, well, all's quiet on the
constituency front.

Except the scouts want to open their new
hut.

Why don't you and my cap finish our
game?

Not tonight, John.

Hmm.

to issue a severe weather warning for
the southwest.

There will be a dramatic drop in
temperature with heavy snow drifting on

ground. Residents of affected areas are
strongly advised to stay indoors.

That ends the severe weather warning and
I return you to contemporary...

Raymond?

Where are you?

Still in France?

But when will you be back?

Final chapter.

Quotation.

If you can keep your head while all
around you are losing theirs.

I trust and hope my dear parents will
have proved the part of that club

life.

It's a wise father that knows his own
child.

My father always...

Sorry. Just wondered how the patient was
this morning, but I can see... It's on

the sofa, dead to the world, thank you.
Is it?

I mean, the door's wide open and... Oh,
look, there's a note.

Idiot. What's he done?

Did I say he was brought up by Clive
Trevelyan?

Was he really?

Trevelyan was his guardian. Anyway,
yesterday they had this awful row.

To make things worse, Jim's gone chasing
after him.

Where's he gone?

Devon. I'm going that way.

I could.

And why should I accept a lift from a
stranger?

Because your Lagonda needs a new
camshaft.

You told me last night.

Did I? What a terrible guy I am.

What's your motor?

A Mach 2 rust bucket.

But it's outside now. It's got four
wheels.

And a working camshaft.

25 minutes.

The prison bell rang last night.

Another escape.

I heard.

Did the police make any progress at all
about the breaking of the flat?

Not that I know of.

Strange business.

Nothing missing at all.

I'm not sure now.

Someone sent James a letter on my London
notepaper.

Supposedly from me.

Very strange.

Who's the Turkish delight from?

From the Women's Institute.

It's a thank you for your talk.

Your favourite.

Raymond West has been on.

He's stuck in France.

He doesn't like the idea of his aunt
being all alone in this weather. So I

we'd take her in until he can get back.

Prime Minister's personal secretary
called about what you discussed at the

last night.

It was nothing.

Right.

I said you'd ring back, Edward. I'm out
all day.

I need to be on my own to think.

Where are you off to, to think?

Up on the moor. I don't know.

You're my political agent, John, not my
damned nursemaid. Don't fuss.

Yes, yes, yes.

Sorry.

Catch anything this morning, Harry?

Harry did. No, I didn't.

Well, that's the best I can do.

I have to share a bathroom in the
corridor?

Yes, but with the three crowns extended,
sir, not the silverware. Number three.

And eight for you, Doctor.

It's nine o 'clock.

Green. Yes, green.

Can I see your lunch menu?

Uh, Seth's been in bed for three days
without... Er, Jim, I can do you some

bread and cheese. I want to take a
little look at him.

I don't know if he's right at night, but
by tomorrow... Well, that depends how

ill he is, surely.

Poor Mr Stone.

Do tell him to get well soon for me.

Miss Purchase.

When did you meet Archie?

Last week.

I sought him out in the kitchen for the
secret of his souffle. Ah, yes.

He does a nice souffle.

Bellhop! Eh?

He means porter.

Hold it. I'll show you up myself,
gentlemen.

Mr Kirkwood had a purge of the staff
last week. Yes, well, I should have done

last year when I took over the place.
They'd never been up to my infection

standards, so I'm single -handed at the
minute.

Mrs Willis.

Mrs Willis, enjoy your bird watching.

Thank you.

Morning. Morning.

Do wear something more life -enhancing
at dinner.

You're verging on beige.

You are brave.

If our feathered friends can stand the
cold, then so can I. No.

Being out there with a prisoner on the
loose.

What prisoner?

Well, didn't you hear the bell last
night?

Dartmoor prison. A convict escaped.

Oh, well.

You have far more important things to
think about than interfering with me.

See you this evening, Violet.

Don't mooch around all day. Find
something to do.

I'll try.

I shall inform Mr. Enderby you're here,
madam. Thank you.

Oh,

good

morning. I'm calling to confirm a
reservation and a farewell.

Frank, there were.

Your very finest room.

Just for tonight, that's all right.

Who were Jim's parents?

They worked for Trevelyan as gardener,
parlour maid.

Both died in a servant's outing to
Weymouth in a boating tragedy.

I suppose he had the best of everything
with Trevelyan as his guardian.

Toys, school, university, helping him
through life.

Naturally.

Have you met him?

Once or twice.

I used to be close to a neighbour of his
in Devon before I met Jim.

Raymond West, a novelist.

I adore his stuff, don't you?

I'll have Alfred bring the car round.
I'm driving myself.

Oh, sure.

Careful. Before you go chatting, you're
about the same size as Raymond in the

arms. Would you mind?

Mrs. Herbert Higgins.

Um, ask John Heath, the gardener.

Goodbye, Miss Marble. Goodbye. Perhaps
we'll have a chance to chat properly

tomorrow. What shall I tell the PM's
secretary if he calls again?

Say, uh, the situation will resolve
itself.

Soon.

What are you up to, Charles?

You didn't meet me at Ascot.

I've never been to the Royal Enclosure.

The parade ring, then.

I wasn't at Ascot this year, and I'm
sure you weren't.

I want to meet Trevelyan and talk to
him.

For what?

You're a journalist.

Stop the car.

I won't. I'll get done.

I said, stop the car.

Gotcha.

Where did you get that?

My handbag.

Daddy gave it to me for my 21st, you
were saying?

I'm after an interview with Trevelyan.

Reptile.

I hate journalists.

Just hold on.

I want to know the truth about
Trevelyan. You're not using me to do it.

don't you like journalists?

Is it because of Daddy's trouble?

All that black market stuff in the war.

And the insurance claim.

Oh, and that extraordinary party he
threw in Biarritz with the Windsors and

Gendarmes. You can't print that.

Not in the Gazette, but I can take it to
one of the sensational Sundays.

I need to make a splash, you know, one
way or another.

Bye -bye.

Doesn't bother you?

No.

My friend Miss Harden was always letting
her canary out.

Can't think where Clive's got to.

How did you come to work for Captain
Trevelyan?

I owe him my life.

He rescued me from no man's land under
German fire in 1917.

So he wanted to be SO.

I stayed a soldier until 37.

It was a bit of a loose end after that,
so...

Anyway, Clive got me to run things here
for him while he was away.

He must be a great friend.

Oh, he's a true comrade, Miss Marple.

Though you think you know someone.

Hmm? Just that I'm typing up his
memoirs. He dictated the final chapter

night.

Told you of the publishers for another
six weeks.

Ah,

good.

Where is he now? James?

I want to see him. Where is he?

The captain's not here.

Where the bugger is he? Language!

Don't mind me.

People can so easily forget themselves
when they're cross.

Does the captain know Mr Frank Airwell
by any chance?

Um, Airwell? No, never heard of him. And
is there a hotel in Exhampton?

Yes, yes, the three crowns. Why? I think
you'll find it staying there tonight.

I just walked all the way from
Exhampton.

It's to be two hours. Are you sure?

Oh, yes.

Right.

If only you'd given me some

warning, you could have had my very,
very bedroom. Mr Kirkwood. Yes, Captain?

Frank, airwell is a figment of my
imagination.

Eh?

avoiding the press.

I'm honoured to have you stay, sir, and
I hope it's the first of many.

There's no fire in the rooms, sir, but
the coal man couldn't get through on

account of the snow.

I've been in some cold places in my
time.

I usually manage to keep warm.

Yeah, I bet. And there's a slight
shortage of dinner, now I think of it.

All flutter and plumage, you know.

You're staying?

Mm -hmm.

How very exciting.

I'll see you at dinner.

Number one, then, Captain.

I'll just get the bags up.

I want to smell the blood.

Now it's time for your favourites.

I'm going to turn the other cheek
tonight.

We interrupt this programme to issue a
police warning. The convict who escaped

from Dartmoor Prison last night is now
believed to be in the vicinity of

Exhampton. He is described as dangerous
and should not be approached under any

circumstances. And there, Mr... Smith.

Smith... Jones, sir.

Oh, Jones.

Smith Jones.

With a hyphen.

And no luggage, Mr Smith Jones.

Foolishly, I left my suitcase on the
tray. Mr Kirkwood, my spectacles, I've

mislaid them.

Was that Captain Trevelyan signing the
register? Oh, yes, yes. Clive's a

guest. So, number four, then.

Mr Smith Jones.

Will we... Trevelyan's here.

Yes, we...

Do you know him, sir?

I've never heard of him.

Don't let me down, Emily.

Mr. Fusis, what a surprise. Thank you.
Come in.

I'm looking for Jim. Is he here?

He was. He went down to Exhampton to
find Captain.

How? I'm Charles Burnaby, Emily's
cousin.

Very, very distant cousin.

And the very, very chivalrous one. I
came to her rescue, didn't I?

Emily.

Miss Markle.

Is Raymond here? No.

Markle.

I have been ensuring everything is
secure outside.

May I retire for the night?

I have a headache.

Yes, yes, we can manage.

Well, come along.

Get yourself warm.

Not in weather like this.

What was that about?

Manners, Harry.

Start him before the rest of us.

Oh, no more for me, Clive. It's sore.

Well, the mirror is too soft.

You're so persuasive.

Miss Willard.

No, no, no, she'll stick to water.

Otherwise her face will flush, and
that's not a pleasant sight, is it,

Captain, honestly, what do you think of
her new dress?

I think it's delightful.

If it wasn't for that brooch of mine
that she borrowed without so much as a

-your -leave.

I don't know what she'd look like.

Not that it goes with her grandmother's
earrings.

Miss Perthouse, your usual table?

Have you found my spectacles yet? Sorry,
no. Have you checked the bar area?

Miss Kirkwood, would you set up a table
after dinner for the Ouija board?

Mother, no.

Don't be so tiresome.

Contacting the spirits on a night like
tonight would be so exciting.

Don't you think so, Captain?

Why not?

Why not indeed.

Shall I inform the other guests?

Oh, do.

Let us attune ourselves to the
mysterious...

Mr. Zeman, sir. He says, won't you join
him for a drink?

You've

got

a bloody nerve coming down here.

You don't know why I'm here yet. I know
you had my flat broken in two.

The hell I did.

You owe me.

All I want's your signature.

And if I don't, don't push me.

We'll both fall.

And what do you do, Mr. Burnaby?

I write a little.

Fiction or non -fiction?

Fiction.

You must be so clever.

Like my nephew Raymond.

The neighbor here you met Captain
Trevelyan through?

Yes, we were briefly engaged.

Try a piece of this.

Have you met Jim, Mr. Burnaby?

Emily's most recent fiancé.

In passing.

I'm thrilled for Emily. It's about time
she settled down.

I'm glad we're in here and not out
there.

You must pick up some fascinating
tidbits on the political grapevine. I

that's confidential, Charles.

Hurry.

Don't eat that.

That came this morning.

It was meant for Clive.

Impertinent wine from an insolent
cellar.

One has to hand it to Clive, though. He
keeps some exceptional vintages up at

the house.

I was hoping to have tried them one day.

What a beautiful blue.

Just like your eyes, if they weren't
brown.

Oh, good. Come on, man. No, no, no, no,
no, no, no. Don't go. I value your

opinion. Yours, too.

What would you do to a man who took in a
poor little orphan boy and told him he

was the apple of his eye?

And then, just because he made a few
mistakes at work and money things,

threatened to cut the apple out of his
will and even deny sending the letter.

What would you do to a man like that?

What would you do?

ghost of his brother before he died.

Let us take our positions.

Yes, Captain, will you sit here?

Pardon me.

Don't make me feel nervous. Oh, thank
you. I'm not nervous in the slightest

degree. I belong to the Psychical
Research Society, Lime Ridge of

The lights, please.

Let us make contact with the Spirit.

Are we all receptive?

For what we are about to receive, may
the Lord make us truly grateful.

Is anybody there?

Are we in the presence of a spirit?

have a message spirit

what is the message spirit what is your
message

death

If I stay on the move, keep to the road,
I should reach Exxon in two hours. Two

hours? You'll freeze. When I'm in
Samarit, we never... We're not talking

swishing around on the piste having
jolly super fun, Emily.

Why won't you wait until morning?
Perhaps the telephone will be working

Clyde's in danger. I must warn him.

What's a few feet of snow?

Good luck, sir.

Oh, God, no, please don't.

Oh, God.

Spirit,

who will die?

Oh, God.

Oh, no, don't say jumpy. I'll go and
see. No, Captain, no, no, no, Captain,

please. No, no, no, Captain, nothing.

Please don't have. No, I'll go and take
a look, Mrs. Willard. Just be honest

with me.

Everyone, please, we must not lose
contact with the spirit. Well spoken.

We are privileged death in another word.

Let us not abuse its hospitality.

Tell us who will die.

It's me.

What's happening?

Is everyone all right?

Don't panic. It's just a power cut,
that's all. Could you supply some sort

light, Mr... He's

still dead.

What are you doing?

I'm going after Enderby.

I'm sure he'll manage. One hero is
enough.

I've no idea where she gets the
sarcastic streak from. It's not my side

family. He's not a young man.

And I can't wait here, drinking cocoa,
while he's out there.

So I turn right at the end of the lane
for the Examson Road, do I?

And straight on. You've had quite a
start on you.

I'm pretty fed. I'll catch him up. Be
careful, Mr Bowden.

Bring the cocoa, will you?

It's how the Turkish delight came.

It's postmarked Exhampton, isn't it?

Forwarding address is the Women's
Institute there.

What about the note?

It's plain unheaded.

For his recent talk on women at
Westminster.

Who sent it?

Perhaps whoever broke into the captain's
flat in London.

Certainly someone who knew it was his
favourite.

Was Raymond terribly upset when I broke
off the engagement?

After he introduced me to Jim?

Yes.

But as I pointed out, his novels are
full of that sort of thing, and much

Do you often call Cousin Charles Mr.
Burnaby?

If you must know, I met him yesterday.

Through Jim, sort of.

He said he wanted to help.

He's a journalist.

And all he really wanted was to get
close to Captain Trevelyan. How

unscrupulous.

But rather clever, don't you think?

That too.

Some of this, some of that. You get it?

Oh, do put that away, please.

I was just closing the window. It's been
banging like anything.

If I was the nerve of thought, I'd say
there was evil in this house.

The house is brick and mortar.

If there's evil, it's in someone's
heart.

creep up on an old soldier.

I wasn't creeping.

Damn it, man.

I might have killed you.

Come on.

Come on.

Yeah, all right. All right, I'm coming.

Coming. I'm coming.

Mr. Enderby.

Where's the captain?

He's in bed, Mr. Enderby. Everyone is.

Sir!

Everything all right?

Come up to bed, Archie. Keep me straight
up.

Chef, I've got a tricky job before me.

Thank you very much.

Happens to well, even?

Is it a foot house?

Yes, Mr. Burnaby.

Oh, no.

The poor man.

No, no, no. I see. I see. Thank you.

Mr. Burnaby.

Mr. Burnaby.

Constable Narikov. He's stuck in there.

Here. Sergeant throughout honeymoon and
all roads to Exhampton are blocked.

But... But does that believe you?

Well, that won't do.

I was a special constable during the
war.

Will you accept my authority, Kirkwood?

Um, good man. Right. When the guests get
up, give them breakfast as usual.

Don't say what's happened.

Um, I must ask you to step out of
earshot while I call Westminster and

the powers that be of Hayden.

In normal circumstances, I'd come with
you, but... I have

cleared the path for you, miss.

Are you sure you don't wish me to
accompany you? No, thank you.

Did Charles Nelson Jim?

I'm afraid not.

Why did the captain not return last
night?

It's all a mystery at the moment, Mr.
Garley.

I shall pray for his soul.

Look at that.

his champagne glass.

He had a visitor then.

Though Clive never drank champagne.

What's that?

One of his Egyptian souvenirs.

Scorpion he cherished most.

Why he had it with him?

He's smiling, don't you think?

It's only post -mortem, that does.

It's a good enough day.

Was the window open or closed?

It was closed.

It was closed. There was no fire.

The room was cold.

Yes, yes.

He departed this life no earlier than
11, no later than midnight.

How he, um, drifted into the garage,
well...

What we get is a pack of snow around the
body to prevent leakage.

Good morning.

The cards were right.

Shut up!

What's that necessary?

Yes. Poor, poor man.

It's such a loss to the nation, let
alone to those of us who are fortunate

enough to bask personally in the warmth
of his smile.

Quiet.

This is yours, isn't it?

Oh, yes, so it is.

Thanks.

Where were you between 11 and midnight?

Me? I was in my room.

Alone? No, I was with a bottle of port.

Who as good as told Clive he'd kill him
at dinner? Oh, I'm serious.

Anyone else witness this threat?

I heard him. So did Dr. Burt.

This is madness.

Sit down.

You've no authority here.

I've a few authorities.

Let me go.

Have it your way, then.

No authority here, enemy. Let me out or
I'll sue you for false imprisonment.

You're staying in custody until I find
out the truth.

Custody? It's a larder you own.

Emily.

Emily.

Jim! I'm afraid so, Mr. Trofusis. But
let him out at once. I can't do that.

What? I'm not saying he did it, and I'm
not saying he didn't.

But until I find out one way or another,
he stays in there.

I'm innocent.

Of course you are, my darling, and I'll
prove it. I love you, Emily.

I love you too.

You're wonderful, do you promise? I
promise you.

What the hell is going on?

Ah, yes.

I have requisitioned your larder, Mr.
Stone.

How am I meant to get lunch?

Well, what do you need?

Ingredients.

The front door and the back door were
both locked and bolted. Now, I made sure

of it. What with that escape conflict
out there.

What about the cellar? I'll keep it
padlocked.

I've checked.

It's still secure.

You sure about that?

Yeah.

Yeah, quite sure. No one could have gone
in that way.

Then the killer was already in the
hotel.

One thing.

I was doing my rounds and... Well, after
all that Dr Burke going up on the roof.

Stargazing.

I need a hobby with Mr Zimmerman. So
demanding.

A personal doctor?

He can afford it.

And I can't afford not to.

I refuse to join this national health
service on principle.

If you can't offer the doctor a
shilling, then you shouldn't get ill.

Did you have a good view from the roof?

I could only see outside.

So I attempted an autopsy on the
deceased.

There's kitchen knives.

Nutcrackers could be handy.

After that weird stuff with the Ouija
board, spooked me, I can tell you.

The captain and I were in his room.

We had business interests.

Anglo -American holdings. Heard of them?

Well, I needed them to sign a document.

Then we said goodnight, went to bed.

Your room was on the same floor.

Did you hear anything?

Sure I did.

A dame screaming somewhere.

I certainly didn't hear a scream.

Nowhere at all.

Definitely nowhere.

Why exactly are you staying here, Mr.
Smith -Jones?

I... I couldn't get in anywhere else.
There is.

Nowhere else in Exhampton.

But honestly, no scream.

There was a terrible scream.

I opened my door to see, but without my
spectacles.

I'm almost certain.

Why are you in Exhampton, Miss Purcell?

The air in Devon is so good for me, my
doctor says.

Better than the air in Lyme Regis?

Well, there's more of it.

Somehow. It was bad enough.

Losing my bird -watching haversack on
the moor earlier.

And then Violet in that awful new dress
that flashed with my brooch and those

old earrings.

And Mr Pearson.

And then the spirit foretelling Clive's
tragic death.

Oh, it was a dreadful day.

Dreadful. I had to take a sleeping pill.

So you slept through until the morning,
then?

Yes.

Unfortunately, madam, you were seen in
the corridor.

Oh, no.

I thought I got over that.

For what?

Sleepwalking.

Sleepwalking? Sleepwalking.

Yes, when she's cold and when she gets
upset about my father's death.

I think it's wonderful that she's
developed this interest in birdwatching

the last year or so. I think it helps
her.

Sorry.

Can I go now?

The champagne is most interesting.

And two glasses.

One of them in the bathroom.

Broken.

And the rose.

I wonder how long Miss Perthouse has
been a member of her Psychical Research

Society, a languages branch where the
air is so scant.

Mind you, it would be easy to manipulate
the glass to frighten

someone present, wouldn't it?

What? Rose, Miss Marple. When Captain
Frizzellian went out to do whatever he

did all day before arriving at the Three
Crowns, he propped himself to Mrs

Herbert Stevens.

Done. The variety is not important.

I do so like those fully double winter
repeaters, don't you?

But I gathered it was unusual for him to
wear a buttonhole.

He wanted to look his best.

And champagne for two.

Perhaps a woman is involved.

A woman?

Trevelyan? People are full of surprises,
Mr. Burnaby, don't you agree?

Well, he is a slippery customer.

I wouldn't put anything past him.

Cigarette, at all?

No, thanks, I don't.

Did, um, Captain Trevelyan actually tell
Mr.

Pearson he had cut him out of his will?

He hinted at it. Well, hinted that he
might.

Oh. He doesn't seem to have done.

This is his will.

It is Mr. Pearson who inherits the vast
bulk of the estate.

Who else benefit?

Only Mr. Enderby. A small bequest.

Two hundred pounds and the captain's war
medal.

What?

Nothing.

For the moment.

When Captain Poverian...

Took leave of his oldest friend
yesterday, it was that.

It was somehow final.

As if he knew he would never see Mr.
Endby again.

He had booked his room in the name of
Frank Airwell.

I don't see... S. Airwell.

Farewell.

Yes.

It's as if he knew he was going to die.

Just as the cards have predicted.

Possibly.

I found these airline tickets in Captain
Trevelyan's things.

He was planning to leave the country
today.

For Buenos Aires.

Buenos Aires?

He had two seats booked.

One in his own name.

And one for Mrs. Trevelyan.

Mrs. Trevelyan?

We believe that yesterday he married.

And today he would have gone on
honeymoon with his new bride.

who was with him last night in his room.

I... I... Yes?

I find it so hard to believe.

Hard?

Is it hard to believe that two ships
adrift in an ocean of loneliness could

themselves together and steer a true
course to the island of dreams, guided

the twinkling stars and smiled upon by
heaven?

Yes, Violet.

You were going to have a daddy again.

And now, twice widowed, my last chance
of happiness gone forever.

Excuse me.

Thank you, Ahmed, for reaching the earth
down for me.

Ah. Ooh.

And a fire.

You think of everything, almost before
one asks.

Thank you, madam.

Here we go.

Bathroom's through here, Mr Fusis.

I've made the geezers out of order, so
if you want some hot water, I'll have to

bring it up to you.

Your cousin could put that screen
between the beds for privacy.

Thank you, Will Mannard.

By the way, do you know if Mr Zimmerman
is a farmer?

No, it's just that last night I heard
him talking to that doctor about Rams.

Rams? No idea.

Thanks for the clean shirt.

It's horrid.

Bed's lumpy.

Change your mind, then, and have
Trevelyan's room, and I'll stay here.

Why don't you often have Trevelyan's
room? I don't want to sleep in a dead

bed. Well, nor do I.

Well, then, we're stuck together, aren't
we?

If not?

No one's ever told me.

You've missed the button.

Come in.

I've something to show you.

It's a marriage certificate.

I'm Mr. Clyde Trevelyan.

I wore a blue hair ribbon.

Earrings, dress, brooch.

Something old, something new.

Last summer when we first stayed here,
Mother disappeared.

Bird watching.

I wandered into the lounge and there was
a coffee morning for the Conservative

Association.

What's your name?

Violet.

Violet.

It's very difficult.

For me.

At once.

What?

I once thought I'd never find happiness
ever again.

He invited my mother and me to tea at
Sutterford House.

I only went once.

I felt... a presence.

Presence? Clive laughed it off.

But there was something.

Why didn't you tell your mother?

You've met her.

We used to see each other at his London
flat.

Last month he proposed.

And yesterday we went to ex -registry
office and were married.

The Argentine's a long way from
honeymoon.

I didn't know.

When he said to bring my passport, I
thought France, perhaps.

What happened now tonight?

I went to him.

Getting ready.

And I heard someone come into the
bedroom.

Did you hear what?

No.

Just murmuring, and I heard a cough.

Smelled a cigarette.

I waited for Clive to come and tell me
the coast was clear, and when he didn't,

I went out.

And there he was.

The strange thing is, he had a smile on
his face.

Did the captain ever mention his will,
Mrs Trevelyan?

We visited his letter yesterday to
change it.

I inherit everything.

What a rascally rascal.

But it's good news in a way, though.
Because if I don't get a penny, then I

don't have a motive thingy for killing
him, do I? I'm not sure that follows,

though. Well, I hope it does. What's
going to happen to me? To us?

Chin up.

I think of something.

Can you let me in?

Just for one minute? Yes.

I mustn't.

Sorry to disturb you, but have you seen
the chef?

Why? I want to make a complaint.

About his custard.

Do you understand women?

Thought I understood men, but apparently
not.

What's your considerate view of
Elizabeth?

Miss Popehouse?

I invited her to a concert next week,
but she said no.

Eldar?

Well, he's jolly good.

No, wasn't that?

She just didn't seem to want to know me.

What do you think I should do?

I think you should start by telling me
what you're doing here.

It doesn't matter anymore.

My name is Donald Garfield, an
officially authorised Whitehall dirt

Sir Bennion could have been Prime
Minister, so I was ordered to sniff out

skeletons in his constituency cupboard.

I need both of you.

Not that your company is in any way
unpleasant, Mr. Fusos. What do you want?

I have some information.

Well? I need you to lend me some money.

On a permanent basis.

If you have information, Doctor, then I
think... It's a pound between friends,

eh?

I hope it's worth it.

I always give good value.

I wasn't stargazing last night on the
roof. What were you doing?

Getting news of slaughter in Los
Angeles.

Rams drawing blood.

The balmy blue skies here in sunny Los
Angeles.

For the Rams have got the yanks in big
trouble.

That's our man Rodman, stormed in down
the line.

But this fantastic, what a run.

What a run, as he passes. His crazy legs
hurt.

He sees me. His crazy legs hurt.

Mr Zimmerman made me lie to you. Made
you, Doctor?

If, indeed, you are a doctor.

I'm a preacher.

And no, I'm not quite a doctor anymore.

I was struck off the medical register of
professional misconduct.

What's thought?

They said soonest mended, Irvine.

But now I have to earn a penny from
every available source, you understand.

Was it drugs?

I've forgotten.

Those capsules you give him, what are
they?

A shilling a dozen to me and a shilling
each to him.

Coloured water.

Keeps the stupid young happy and it pays
my rent.

But it's never quite enough for extra.

Wait, Mr Enderby.

And so it was that in 1926, I prepared
to embark on a journey to the mysterious

land of Egypt.

What the hell's this?

This is the hotel register.

You said you were in Captain Trevelyan's
room and he signed something for you.

May we compare signatures?

Get the hell out of my room. Or you
could wait until the police get through

the morning if you prefer it.

My fiancé is under suspicion for a
murder he didn't commit. I won't stand

any more lies.

I wasn't in his room.

We know.

You were listening to a football game.

Look, he wasn't cooperating last night.

So I thought...

I'll see him at breakfast.

But he was dead meat.

So you had to forge his signature?

Yeah. What was this document?

A statement.

By Trevelyan exonerating me of any
wrongdoing with a TX -75 scandal.

TX -75?

What? It was a naval artillery shell. It
had a habit of exploding before it left

the barrel.

Killed thousands of American sailors. It
took me two by the end of the war.

Trevelyan and I owned the company who
made it.

And those shells were knowingly
manufactured substandard in order to

an extra profit. He got the cream. I got
the two -cent deposit because he's out

of the picture now.

And in a week, the spit hits the fan
with a congressional inquiry.

Buenos Aires is a wonderful honeymoon
spot.

No extradition treaty.

You're very noisy today.

What do you want?

Please, tell Mr. Henneby that I would
like to confess, please.

In your own words.

It was me.

That moved the glass that spelled out
death to Trevelyan. I'm not interested

your mumbo -jumbo parlor game nonsense.

I want to know who killed Clive. Well,
not me. I don't inherit anything, do I?

I can tell you something, though.

Last night, I overheard Archie Stone,
the chef, in Kirkwood.

They must have forgotten that I was in
solitary confinement with nothing to

drink save for a bottle of cooking
sherry.

Anyway, the chef is planning to scarper
after dinner, so if you're looking for

the killer, then I'd say he's your man.

It's true, Emily.

You wouldn't know the truth if it hit
you in the face.

You repaid Clive's kindness with an
utter lack of responsibility.

And if you think you can lie your way
out of this one, you've got another

coming.

Hey, Jim overheard them.

Stone's making a run for its nine.

Charlie doesn't believe him, of course.
I didn't say that.

Do you, Emily?

What a silly question. Of course I do.

You must be exhausted, the pair of you.
What are you using?

I'll get some soup.

Oh, I'm going to go and change.

That place is dreadfully dirty.

Cold dust in the register.

I think she's having second thoughts
about Jim.

Oh.

I suspect he did overhear something.

Perhaps it wasn't what it seemed.

No, I meant... Second thoughts about
them?

The engagement, you mean?

Yes.

Of course I feel sorry if that's
upsetting, but I can't help... I've

girl quite like Emily.

I doubt she's ever met a young man quite
like you.

I know it was a rotten trick the way I
got myself into this, but I can honestly

say I've stopped worrying about
Trevelyan.

It's Emily that matters now.

17th May 1927, Cairo.

Stifling, but then I'm stifled in
England.

Lack of funds, though I have met a chap
who needs a favour on the quiet. It was

between the pages.

He could be the answer to my problem.

Look at this.

It's the same place.

It's a woman, isn't it, next to him?

I wonder who she is and what she meant
to travail him.

British afternoon tea.

Great tradition.

Feels just like the war, doesn't it,
Elizabeth?

But less fun.

Does anyone know if that convict's been
recaptured? I think we're safe.

Well, look at this joint. He begged to
be back in his cosy little fell.

Thankfully, the tenacious Mr. Enderby is
on the killer's trail.

I overheard him talking to a Miss
Marbles at Sitterford House, and it's

do with Egypt and a scorpion's curse.

More water, Mr. Peter?

Just leave it outside, Mr. Kirk, if you
please.

I said leave it outside.

Charles.

Thank you for the bottle.

Thank goodness.

Time you should be outside if Dan's
going to make a run for it.

Five minutes.

I need to make some notes for my scoop.

You don't think Dan's lying about
something, do you?

No. So tell me about your family,
brothers, sisters.

Only child, left Norwood, mother died
when I was three.

And your father?

They separated early on, I never knew
him.

He only died recently, I heard.

Be an angel and pass me the Luther,
would you?

Who brought you up?

Nuns. Straight?

They had the devil in them.

In West Norwood?

So to speak.

When I stood up for myself, it was they
who said that we should confront the

devil.

So I did.

Gave them hell.

You need hot.

Leave it, I'll do it.

No, Charles, Charles.

Like that? Perfect.

Drive like the wind, darling. The murder
swirl will be here by morning.

Your chef has just run off with one of
your guests, and you don't care. Well,

I'm beyond caring.

Mr. Peterson says, can you meet her in
room one, Captain Trevelyan?

Oh, and have you seen the doc?

It's just that Mr.

Zimmerman can't find him.

Yeah.

It's a sacred gold scorpion of the
Zekans, pre -dynastic pharaohs. Three

ago, a hitherto unknown Zekan tomb was
excavated close to where Captain

Trevelyan was stationed in 1927, but it
had been looted of all its treasures,

including the scorpion.

Your friend was an ambitious young man,
and he would have needed money to

establish himself in the political
world.

A great deal of it.

Do I shock you?

Sadly, Miss Marple, no longer, no. But
what's the scorpion to do with Clive's

murder, however you acquired it? Well,
it brings a curse on those who would

disturb the dead king.

You don't believe that?

Hardly, Mr. Enderby.

Perhaps the killer hoped we would.

Of course.

Mr. Garley is the person to ask about
Egypt.

Ahmed Garley?

And his accomplice.

Lord.

Perth House was my maiden name.

I was married to an archaeologist,
Arthur Hopkins.

In 1927, he was attached to the Cairo
Museum and determined to prove himself.

But he disappeared.

When the tomb was discovered three years
ago, so was his body.

He'd been shot.

I travelled to Egypt to excavate the
facts, where I met Ahmed.

So some good came out of this sad
business.

I was honoured to be of assistance in
establishing the truth of the matter.

I believe in retribution.

We agreed Captain Trevelyan should die.
You secured employment in this house in

order to kill Clive? Yes.

May I say I regret the death of your
horse. Damn the Hulk!

She would have poisoned Clive.

The telephone wasn't working because you
disconnected it.

To prevent help being called if Clive
had eaten the Turkish delight that you'd

intended. And then you reconnected it in
the morning.

And somehow you found out he was at the
hotel and you went and stabbed him. No!

Elizabeth. I didn't think so.

Mr. Garry had no idea the captain was at
the Three Crowns. Though you saw him

there, much to your surprise.

Yes, I tried to telephone Ahmed, but of
course the line was dead.

So I waited, and I went to the captain's
room. Elizabeth, let me take the blame.

I went to his room to kill him, because
he killed my husband.

Except it wasn't his room.

Without my spectacles, I'm afraid it was
Mr. Smith -Jones who had an unexpected

visitor and... Then... courage failed
me.

But the god still smiles.

He is dead.

How did you know it was the captain who
killed your husband?

Arthur's final letter said he'd
discovered the location of a Zikin tomb,

needed help to prove it.

And he'd found the very man.

The museum still had some of his things.

This amongst them.

Arthur and Trevelyan. Who's the woman?

Arthur's sister, Violet.

Violet? She was so upset and considering
her condition.

Her condition?

Yes. She was pregnant.

So we're in his room.

How do you want me?

Smiling.

Trevelyan was smiling.

It wasn't just the death grin.

Violet saw him right after he'd been
killed.

Something made him smile.

Can I stop now? My face is killing me.

Loving in this place.

I hate dripping.

There's something

Doc! Doc, where are you?

Doc!

Doc!

Doc!

Doc,

where are you?

Doc!

Please! Doc! You evil son of a... No!

I only wish they'd had it twice over.

No! Damn, no!

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,
no!

No! No!

No!

It's horrible.

I know, I know.

Look, Bert must have seen Jim going into
Trevelyan's room to kill him then, and

last night he went down to the kitchen
to blackmail him over it, I suppose with

the drink and a handy weapon. I always
knew that Jim... No, no, no! No,

no, no!

I mean it.

Darling, get your filthy rule of hands
off me. I mean it.

Darling, do something.

Now.

Get him out. Emily.

What am I going to do now?

Can you trust the reptile?

Yes.

Then you'll be fine.

Mr. Kirkwood, my mother's not in her
room. Her things are gone.

Where is she?

Plymouth Police Station. She was picked
up last night in a car.

She was running away with Archie Stone.

Yourself? Not exactly. Hey, Mr Kirkwood.

Not even roughly, Miss Willett.

Archie Stone, he's my cousin.

His real name's Harold Wells, number
46329, frequent guest of Her Majesty at

Darble Prison.

He and your mother met when he was last
outside and...

Couldn't keep their hands off each
other.

So to speak.

They got me to buy this place a year
ago, so... So

that their hearts could beat as one
again.

Mr Kirkwood and Mrs Willett have been
charged with aiding and abetting.

Her so -called bird -watching trips on
Dartmoor were actually a cover for her

visiting her lover in prison to plan his
escape.

And so she could find a hiding place for
the change of clothes she'd leave for

him in her haversack. So that's why
Kirkwood dismissed the staff, including

real ship, the real Archie Stone.

Yes, but Miss Perthouse...

Saw him briefly in the kitchen, so Mr
Kirkwood stole her spectacle just in

she glimpsed the imposter. Pretty
ingenious plan.

Not nearly as ingenious as the killers.

I hardly call Jim Pearson ingenious.

Wouldn't you?

Well, no.

Nor would I.

But I didn't believe Jim Pearson was the
killer.

You put your finger on it, Mr. Burnaby.
It was hardly ingenious to chase the

captain down from London and threaten
him in front of witnesses.

All Viola had heard was murmuring, a
drunken anger, and someone coughing as

lit a cigarette.

Jim's lighter was there, of course, but
I think it was stolen to implicate him.

But all the lights went out after the
Ouija card. Someone could have taken it

from him then. Do you think so?

Those boots up the chimney.

Emily and I have been racking our brains
over those, haven't we, darling?

Are they important?

I believe so.

How?

I'll come to that.

He was such a centre of attention that
night.

Captain Trevelyan, wasn't he?

Zimmerman desperate for his signature.

Violet Willett about to spend her
wedding night with him, her mother

every word.

Mr Smith, Jones Garfield, snooping.

Jim, terrified he was going to be
disinherited. Miss Pursehouse, nursing

vengeance in her bosom. Not to mention
your concern, Mr Enderby, at the

attempted poisoning of your dearest
comrade.

If Jim was innocent, then I'm terribly
sorry, Miss Marple. I'm hopelessly

confused. Aren't you, darling?

Pretty much so, yes.

So did the scorpion.

Egypt have anything to do with why he
was killed or not?

It had everything to do with it, as I
learned last night from Miss Perser.

It was in Egypt that Captain Trevelyan
chose a course of action that will

in his death 25 years later.

But it wasn't the murder of Arthur
Hopkins.

In a way, it was.

Hopkins had a sister.

Her name was Violet also.

And I believe Violet Willett reminded
the captain so very strongly of Violet

Hopkins that he believed he'd been
granted a second chance of happiness.

A second chance?

What happened to Violet Hopkins?

Having killed her brother, the captain
chose to abandon her and return to

England knowing she was pregnant with
his child.

A family disowned her and threw her out
on the street. She died three years

later, worn out by sickness and poverty
in the squalor.

The carol slum.

What happened to the child?

The child grew up intelligent and
resourceful, Emily.

Just ingenious.

But he carried inside him a deep hatred
of his father and a burning desire for

justice.

He?

That's why he came to Thitterford House.

It was you, Charles.

It was you who broke into Clive's flat
and took a sheet of his notepaper to

forge that letter to James.

Not only did you plan to kill your own
father, but you were determined to

implicate James, who'd been handed your
birthright.

How frustrating for you to find the
captain wasn't here when you arrived.

If it hadn't been for the attempted
poisoning, Mr. Enderby's setting off.

Through the snow to Exhampton?

No, but it took two hours to get to
Exhampton. We arrived together at about

midnight. The captain had only been dead
for, what, no longer than an hour.

You would have noticed the skis when you
settled in your room here.

Skis? It might take two hours on foot
and in the snow to Exhampton, but with

skis it's downhill all the way.

Those boots were ski boots.

Before you so bravely decided what was
happening, you threw what you needed.

Out of the window.

It neglected to close it in your head.

Which later gave Emily and me a rather
disturbed night.

I'm pretty fit. I'll catch him up.

Of course you would.

After you'd killed the captain.

I am right, aren't I?

You retrieved the skis and the boots,
and once you'd put them on at the top of

the hill, you were ready for murder.

It's been beautiful.

All bloodlessly, the untrodden snow.

Until you sped down to Exhampton, luck
was with you when you reached the Three

Crowns, except Mr. Burt saw you arrive
and would later try to blackmail you.

cellar was unlocked.

Mr. Kirkwood had left it open for Harold
Wells to get in while everyone was at

the Ouija session, which Mrs. Willett
had so enthusiastically arranged.

You got in that way then after
reception.

Identified which room was the captain's,
smudging the hotel register with coal

dust from the cellar in your haste, and
went to murder him.

Who are you?

It's a wise father that knows his aunt's
son.

I knew.

One day.

Mrs. Hickory.

Not a smoker yourself couldn't help
coughing with Jim's lighter, which you

have taken from him in London, and
placed the scorpion as a finishing

Then you remembered the ski boot and
your shoes.

You circled back behind Mr. Endervius if
you'd just caught him up and then

arrived with him at the hotel to
discover...

A murder you couldn't possibly have
committed.

Last night, Mr. Burt tried to blackmail
you. You agreed to pay him and suggested

meeting in the kitchen. When he kept the
rendezvous, you killed him.

In cold blood, so Jim Plurton could be
blamed for a second murder.

Pretending to be a journalist was such a
clever way of explaining your

interest in the captain.

Where did you learn to lie so well?

Somewhere between Cairo and here.

Where did you learn to kill?

I was in the Legion.

The Foreign Legion.

There were nuns, Emily, but not in West
Norwood.

My father was the devil.

I had to confront him.

All the things in the world were his.

And now he's gone.

And we can live again.

You understand?

I hope you...

I shall change.

And become a forgiving sort of chap.

And I'm 100 % prepared to forgive you
for ever thinking that I could become a

killer.

And I'm more than happy to take you up
the aisle.

Jim, I... Well, I've made other plans.

We both have, and they don't involve
men, Daddy.

Ready?

I'll send you a pay card from Buenos
Aires.

He wasn't evil.

Not like Charles Burnaby.

Charles was never loved, except by his
mother.

Very briefly.

Captain Trevelyan was adored.

Violet Hopkins, Violet Willett.

And his friends?

Do you think he loved them?

I'm sure of it.

Sounds like your taxi, Miss Marble.

I'm pleased, sir, I want you to stay at
Ritterford House.

Yes, she suggested I get a new bird.

Nothing to replace Harry.