All language subtitles for Murder on the Orient Express 2017 1080p HC HDRip x264 AC3 - Hon3y

The Wailing Wall, Jerusalem.
1934

He said four minutes precisely.

Quickly, move.

Two perfect eggs this time, no?

Maybe.

I blame the chicken.

Why do hens lay eggs
of different sizes.

It's not you, " Mon'Amie."
These are two perfectly cooked eggs.

Mr. Poirot...

I have got 3 religions bent on riot.

If you are going to perform one of
your miracles, the time is now.

Have the eggs.

Poirot!

Sorry for the, um...

It is not the...

It is the imbalance of the...

Right.

That's better.

Excuse me. Let's move on
Make way, please.

For the accused.

The rabbi...

the priest...

and the Imam.

It is like the...
old joke, yes?

The rabbi, the priest and the imam.

Forgive me, I'm Belgian.

So, let us begin.

In the church of the
Holy Sepulcher above us!

Three representatives meet
under the supervision...

of the Chief Inspector of the Police to
discuss a divided timetable for market use.

One hour after this tense meeting...

a priceless relic is found to be stolen.

It is said one of
these three men has stolen it.

The police find no pieces
of evidence at all.

I find one.

On the meticulously well
kept wall of a fresco...

a single crack from an
indelicate client..

With a hard-soled
shoe or perhaps a boot.

So, ladies and gentlemen,
we must ask...

Who stands to benefit from the crime?

Our three holy men live humbly.

They have thin
soled shoes, poor.

Sudden riches
and rubies would be...

too conspicuous, yes? To enjoy,
they do not getting it.

At this point, we need, an armed
guard at the south gate,

Thank you very much.

Now, the only one...

who benefits from the theft
and the unrest it causes...

is a man whose office I
had searched this morning...

As I waited, I have to tell you,
rather disappointed upon my breakfast.

Difficulty with the eggs.
You don't need to know this.

A man who is paid lavishly
to keep order in Jerusalem.

I mean, of course, the
Chief Inspector of the Police.

A man who does not wish to
lose a well-paid post...

when there is discussion among the
local people of self governance...

who does wear boots, and
do I believe now does regret...

inviting me to consult on this case.

How dare you accuse me?

Police sergeant...

Did you search the
office as I asked?

Ah... Yes sir.

And did you find what
I said you might?

Yes sir. Just as you said.

You must deliver that to the, captain.
It'll be the first thing in the morning.

I got it sir.

Luggage is on board, sir.

I want the right to
escort you to your boat.

To Istanbul, then?
Will you be back to London straight off?

I'm tired, and I've
earned myself a little holiday.

I want to look at paintings
and have too much time on my hands.

You're staring. Does it stop?

It's just...

How did you know it was him, sir?
From just a tiny crack on the wall.

I have the advantage...

I can only see the
world as it should be.

And when it is not,
the imperfection stands out...

Like the nose in the
middle of a face.

It makes most of life unbearable.

But it is useful in the
detection of crime.

But it's just like you see 'em through their
hearts. And divine their true natures.

And whatever people say, there
is right there is wrong.

There is nothing in between.

We must part here.

No, sir, I am to escort you on ferry.

We must never meet again.

Could you straighten your tie please?
Just a little.

- Yes
- That is perfect.

Final passengers, please!

I am sorry.

We'll be reached soon.

But... Will it be fixed in time?

We are working!

I have a connection in Istanbul.
Leaves tomorrow at seven.

There is a very ill patient
waiting for me in London.

I'm a doctor.

Doctor.

I am a doctor.

I am shouting it you in English and
now I am doing it louder and slower.

Very silly, forgive me.

May I help?
Let me help.

I know your mustache.

From the papers.
You are the detective Hercules Poirot?

"Hercule Poirot. I do not slay
the lions, Mademoiselle."

Mary Debenham monsieur. I will
forget a name, but never a face.

Not yours, any way.

You come from Baghdad?

It's true.
No detail escapes his notice.

Your ticket.

I might also ask you if you
enjoyed your time there...

as a governess.

The chalk on your sleeve
and the Geography primar.

A governess or a cartographer.
I made my gamble.

I always begin them with Geography...

and monster them until they
have the world down cold.

They may get lost in life...

but I'll be damned if they
don't know where they are.

Well our chains are free.
Right on time.

I feel so free out here in the water.

I wish I could enjoy it.

- You should be out of this, Mary.
- Not now.

When it's all over.

When it's done.

Then nothing can touch us.

Istanbul

My holiday begins here.

I can see the soul of the
city in these humble breads.

The world insists on
destruction, yet here...

masterpieces are baked
to order every day.

Mohammed!

Mohammed, my friend...

You are an artist.

My friend!

I am sorry.

Hey, come, come.

Don't mind us, we're just looking
for a place to have a private argument.

It will take some twenty minutes, or so.

I wish then we'll both come to an
agreement. Or at least I will, yes.

Monsieur Bouc!

Poirot! In the kitchen.

Well, of course, this man will sniff out the
perfect pastry faster than he catches...

a jewel thief.

No, I am no longer a police man, I can't
bail you out when they've got you badly.

This is my dear old friend,
the esteemed...

Poirot, whom I knew before the esteem.
Hercule Poirot, this is...

- A prostitute.
- She is.

I am. Bouc, you did not tell me
you had such famous friends.

We are friends because I
am the only person...

who never asks him any questions about
his cases, because I don't care.

And he never judges me for
being a terrible person.

Indeed you are.

Madame, Bouc, please join me
for a drink, yes?

You only have me for an hour.

I ride on the Orient Express at seven.
Official director business.

Uncle pays me absurdly to stay
on board his gorgeous train...

and far away from him...

at the home office...

Consigned to wine and
dine in handsome...

There is an art to nepotism.

And you are his Michelangelo!

Mr. Poirot.

Are you a prostitute as well?

- Certainly not.
- Is this man bothering you?

He is about to it.

- You are from the British consulate.
- I am sir.

It is the Kassner case.

Why, yes.

I was correct in certain predictions?

Quite.

I do not need to read the telegram.

How fun...

did someone cheat or die?

Unfortunately, both.

Someone has...

interrupted my longing for rest.

It appears that I must travel
with you tonight, Bouc.

Can you find me a cabin
on the Orient Express?

My friend...

I may not begin for much, but I sure as
hell can get you a bed on my train...

in the dead of winter. In three days...

free of care, concern, or crime.
You will love it.

Mademoiselle, it has been a pleasure.

Your luggage has been collected
and your expenses paid.

You will be next at Calais...

and then escorted to Dover, and
then by rail to London, Victoria.

- I would like to formally express...
- Please don't speak.

You make it worse.

- Here is the tip for you pal.
- Thank you, Mr. Marquez.

I didn't even carry your luggage.

I had a good week.

We celebrate when fortune smiles
, and we share the good fortune.

Remember to say nice things about us
Americans, huh?

No!

Hey, stop!

For you, Mr. Ratchett,
the best table in the.

Just here, sir.
The very best table.

I want that one.

Hey, Masterman.
You got everything?

Kind of you to inquire, Mr. McQueen.
I do not make mistakes.

Oh my goodness! It's Count Andrenyi.

Come come come.

I saw you dance at Monte Cristo.
Could I take your photograph?

Please, not in my face, no!

Sorry.

The Orient Express!

With stops in Sofia, Nis,
Belgrade, Vinkovci and Brod...

with transfers to Bucharest, Zagreb,
Trieste, Venice, Milan, Lausanne...

Dijon, Paris, Bologna and Calais...

with connection to Dover and
London, leaves in fifteen minutes!

This way, Michel! Precious cargo
I need a first class compartment.

Give special care to my friend, Michel.
I want him pampered like a zoo panda.

But Monsieur Bouc, we are fully booked.
There is no place left.

Then we make space.
You can have the no. 11.

The eleven is always kept
open for official use.

It's very comfortable.

11 is taken. The Austrian
professor booked it 2 days ago.

There is not 1 first class
sleeper car in the whole train?

Negative, sir.

Second class?

There is no place left at all.

Mademoiselle Debenham.

Mr. Poirot, are you joining us?

It depends who wins this debate.

Have all the passengers arrived?

All but one. Mr. Harris.

"All passengers must check in at least one
half hours prior it's time of departure...

"or their seat may be forfeit".

The half hour has passed.
The seat is forfeit.

Please take Monsieur Poirot's luggage to
number three, with Mr. McQueen.

Enjoy.

- Welcome Sir.
- Yes.

Number three is unlucky.

Apologies, madame.
I meant no disrespect to you.

Oh, you could try to mean a little..

One thing about train travel
you're always knocking into somebody.

It is wonderful.

Although I am looking
always to getting back.

Travel is my
spicy food, mosques, meeting men...

eventually just miss your own bed.

I have been accused of
husband hunting abroad.

And I can't honestly deny it,.
I like my time alone, I do.

But a lady has certain needs that deserve
to be met, if she has any money...

and preferably, on a regular basis.

Oh my! Fire in the kitchen!

See you later, Madame!

Good evening.

Number nine.

Good evening.

How you doing?

No, after you.

Ah, number three.

Who is it? Ah, Mr. McQueen?

Yeah. I think you might
have the wrong birth.

Excuse me, is there a problem, sir?

No problem.

The train is full.

And I think that we are,
how do you say? "Bunkies".

Really?

I am equally disappointed in you.
This is nice.

Come along, darlings.

No.

No.

This?

Why my... unpacked?

Final call for passengers!

Shall we brush it?

What the hell is taking them so long?

Soon as we're getting out of
here, have them make up the bed.

It's already fixed, Mr. Ratchett.

No, I want the bed made.
And bring my Dictaphone.

Dogs on the table. It's
the most disgust-able

thing I've ever seen in a while.

- Yes sir.
- I want you to get McQueen...

And have him bring every
receipt from the Milan sale.

- I want you to get it done.
- Yes sir.

I want you to get it done now.

- Did I say get it done now?
- Right away sir.

Better watch yourself.

Your coffee, Mr. Ratchett.

Who did this?

I can't say, sir.

Good evening, Mrs. Hubbard.

Hello, Mr. Masterman.

Well, hello.

Eyes linger any longer, I'll
have to charge rent.

I'll pay.

Have another drink.

Are you insulted?

Disappointed.

Some men have a good look.

All they have to do is...

keep their mouth shut, and
they can take on any prize they want.

Still, the mouth opens.

Is everything alright, Mrs. Hubbard?

You have a strong intuition, I know.

My second husband used to say just so.

Hold that, he was my first.

Yeah.

Brightest man I've ever met.

Face like a turnip, but
I loved that turnip.

It was nice to talk.

Excuse me.

Goodnight.

Mr. Poirot breakfast.

When you take supper...

I'll move Mr. McQueen to
Monsieur Bouc's compartment.

You will travel first class, monsieur.

- Bon apetite.
- And the eggs?

Good afternoon.

Ah, Mrs. Hubbard.

Good afternoon.

There we are.

- Complements of the Orient Express.
- Thank you, Mr. Bouc.

I am here for all of your needs.

No thank you. I do not drink.

I do not agree with you.

Sin doesn't agree with me.

Vice is where the devil
finds his darlings.

We should no longer speak.

Good afternoon.

Monsieur, how about an appetizer?

I regret I have an appointment
with the director of the train.

He was gonna leave anyway.

Please sir.

All settled in?

As advertised.

And yet, the best things
on the train are not food.

You know? There is something about a...

a tangle of strangers pressed together
for days, with nothing in common...

but they need to go from
one place to another...

and never see each other again.

Boredom, plus anonymity, plus...

constant gentle rocking.

With your hobbies, you'll
never amount to anything.

God I hope so.

Oh give me the fish.

Exchange grouper for soul,
Es Carole for the potato, and...

the beef sauce for the velout�(Copyright).

Garcon, that sounds superb.
The same for me.

The princess Dragomiroff.

You know, if I had the word to marry for
money I would marry for that much money.

I brushed Dalia this morning.

No, you tortured my darling doggy.

I asked you to brush her.

You still enjoying your Dickens?

Very much, Mon'Amie.

You know, with your books and your capers,
you're missing out on romance.

The romance never goes unpunished.

There was...

There was someone once.

I would prefer into future I
to be sit not with that man.

Like should be seated with like.
We are not alike.

Not all of us are so concerned with
the separation of races, professor.

It is out of respect for all kinds
that I prefer to keep them separated.

To mix your red wine and the
white, would be to ruin them both.

I like a good rose.

Hey, how you doing?
Would you mind...

if I join you?

Dessert is an indulgence...

and I feel kind of silly
stupid, indulging alone.

I am at my happiest alone.

But...

For a piece of your
fragility, pleased to join you.

Oh my. Excuse me, another fork.

I have been trying to
make your acquit Mr. Poirot.

I never ever sat so
close to fame before me.

Now I tell a lie.

Once I was in a bus with Ty Cobb.

Ball player, Detroit.

Would you mind if I have the little
curly bit at the top?

You are not a bird though?

A strange peculiar man.

I am of a age where I know what I like
and what I do not like.

What I like, I enjoy enormously.
What I dislike, I can not abide.

For an instance,
the temporary pleasantries before

what is determined to be
a business discussion.

You're fun.

All right.

I would like to offer you a job.

"The avenger of the innocents".
That's what they call you in the papers.

You are an innocent?

I am a businessman.

I am an art dealer.
I mean, I am new to it.

But my beginner's luck
has worked out.

Relics, antiquities.

Rugs, rare. Orientals.

I'm new to the game, so, you
know, I got the amateur eye ball.

But I got a little problem with the...

so called praises.

You can't trust a one.

Some of my customers...

They buy a piece...

They find out they are
not exactly original...

which is not really my fault...

if a Kashan silk scarf is a fake.

Right?

But I've managed to make
a few enemies, it's the thing.

Got a few letters,
people making threats.

And most likely it's the Italians.

I sold them a set of
Oriental carpets in Milan.

And the buyers weren't so happy
with the providence.

And they want their money
back with interest, you know?

Italians.

A guinea is guinea.

And then comes along
the genius detective.

Me?

- Yes you. Hercules Poirot.
- Hercule.

Here is what I'd like to do.

I would like to hire you
to watch my back...

until I get someplace safe.

It's easy money for you.

And it's peace of mind
for me, you know?

- I understand.
- Good.

I refuse.

That's bad.

I didn't make
myself clear enough.

You see, someone is out to get me.

And I know I'm not the best...
Not by a long shot.

And if there is a world after this, where I
will face judgment, just like you.

But...

I ain't in no goddamn rush to do it.

- You are holding a gun at me?
- No.

Not you. On the world.

I exist in the world.
Do not point the gun at me.

How does ten thousand sound for a week?

It's a generous offer Mr Rachette.
I must decline.

- Fifteen thousand?
- You didn't hear me, I declined.

Oh, I get it.

It's not flashing out for the
great Hercules Poirot. Huh?

Not new flash-books...

You sell fakes to gangsters.
You're suffering the consequences.

I detect criminals.
I do not protect them.

So you are saying no
to my dirty money.

I say no to you, Mr. Ratchett.

Business with the gun, right?
Is that what it was?

This is far more personal than that.

I do not like your face.

If you'll excuse me...

You liked my cake, didn't ya?

The cake was excellent.
Have a pleasant afternoon, Mr. Ratchett.

Thank you.

How cold.

Mossier Katherine.

Mon'Amie.

Mr. Dickens.

Mr. Ratchett?

Mr. Ratchett?

Yeah, mossier.
Goodnight.

Mrs. Hubbard?

It's always Mrs. Hubbard.

Mrs. Hubbard.

Did we die?

Ladies and gentlemen,
the train has been derailed.

You alright, Mr. Marquez?

I'm fine. Thank you.

Mr. Bouc will speak to you...

All clear.

Are we going to die?

My Katherine.

My beautiful...

Ladies and gentlemen, I'm afraid that
our train is still unable to go anywhere.

Yeah, except down.

How long are we supposed to just figure?

Yes, someone must be doing something.

Of course I'm doing something.
I am doing nothing.

Precisely two hours and ten minutes ago,

when we didn't arrive in
Broad as scheduled...

The station master will have
surmised our situation...

and already sent a team
to excavate the engine...

clear our path and send us on our way.

Until then, I assure you...

we will all be made warm,
and, fed and comfortable.

We could walk.

We could die of exposure trying.

I have a connection to make.

My boat sails the day after
tomorrow, from France.

Without you, I would wedger.
Or me in London.

I hold you accountable for
my loss of time, Mr. Bouc.

Madame, you can't hold me
accountable for the weather.

Of course, I can.
You are the one here.

And my conference in Turin?

And I was to meet a
factory in Sochaux.

Yes, some things...
They are in God's hands.

It is not for us to say..

If we deserve to arrive
safely to our destination...

or if, like Lucifer,
we must fall.

Breakfast for you, Mr. Ratchett!

Ah. Bonjour, Mr. Masterman.

There is problem?

I can't say, sir.

Mr. Ratchett?

That is cold air.

Please bring Mr. Bouc immediately,
and also Dr. Arbuthnot.

Good god.

Touch nothing else,
only the body.

By God, this is horrible.

First the snow and now...

I'll have to meet with the police and
make some statement in some grimy station.

And a man has died.

And a man has died.

He was stabbed.

Long straight edge knife.

Multiple stab wounds, some shallow
some cut clean through muscle.

Left hand side or right hand side?

That's the thing.

It appears that the killer maybe
closed his eyes and struck blind.

Could you estimate the time of death?

It's hard to say
with the window opened...

but my best guess is
between midnight and 2:00.

But no one went to his compartment.
And I sat on my seat all night.

I would have seen if someone came,
It's impossible.

Thank you Doctor.
Please return to the dining car.

Michel, secure this carriage.

Poirot.

I need your help, my friend.

You have to find who did this.

Please, I employ you on behalf
of the Orient Express.

When the police arrives we can
present them with a case closed.

You are the only one who can save me.

Your faith touches me, Mon Cher.
But I must held this rest.

Well, think of it as a little
beach time puzzle.

That's nothing to your mind!

You look up the antecedents
of the passengers.

You will establish the Boniface
And then do what you do.

You sit in a chair
and you eat your cake...

and you think, until the
solution present itself.

What else are you going to do
while we sit here in the snow?

Without constant stimulation,
your little Grey cells will starve and die.

Do you think that is what I do?
I sit in the chair...

I have a little piece of cake
and then I come up with a..

- I don't know what are you do.
- I have my Dickens.

Damn your Dickens!

If we leave this to the police,
they will choose a culprit...

Right or wrong, and
then they'll hang him.

Most probably Mr. Marquez...

for no other reason, than
his name is Marquez.

Or Dr. Arbuthnot, for
the color of his skin.

You are the only one
who can bring justice.

- Let me have a map of this coach.
- Of course.

- Every passport.
- Anything.

Interviews arranged with
all of the passengers.

Evidence, order and method,
until one culprit emerges.

I do not approve of
murder, my friend.

Every day we meet people the world
could have better without yet...

we do not kill them.

We must be better than the beasts.

So let us find this killer.

Ladies and gentlemen,
allow me to...

It appears that, our
bad luck has worsened.

That is...

A passenger has
died on the train.

Monsieur Ratchett.

Looks like they got him after all.

Do you assume he was killed?

No, no.

I just meant he was in
perfectly good health.

He had his enemies, that's all.

Indeed he did, he was murdered.

Oh God, a murder here?

Alas, madame.

God rest his soul.

Someone was rummaging around my
cabin in the middle of the night.

Nobody would believe me.

What is going on?

As we are snowbound, I have
elected to take the case...

and find for my friend,
Monsieur Bouc, the criminal.

And why you?

My name is Hercule Poirot...

and I'm probably the greatest
detective in the world.

I will speak to all of you in time.
For the moment...

I must recommend that you remain in
your compartment with the doors locked.

I feel like a prisoner here.

It is for your own safety.

If there was a murder...

then there was a murderer.

The murderer is with us...

on the train, now.

The doors between coaches
were locked at night.. hmm?

Absolutely, done myself.

The train's been searched.
There is no one hiding on it or under it.

We can therefore limit our investigation
to the occupants of the Calais coach.

Bouc, you'll assist me.

As the only traveler who
slept in another coach..

You are the only one
who is not a suspect.

Mr. McQueen, is it
really the time for drinking?

My boss is dead.

I am out of the job, and you're
looking at me like I did it.

We make no accusations.

You knew him, so from you we
need the essential facts.

Were you his relative?

No, his secretary.

Booked his travel,
ordered his steaks.

Man ate more steaks than I
have ever seen in my entire life.

He was in antiques.

He had no qualifications for it,
not the eye, quite the languages.

Truth is, he had no head for business,
accounting...

None of it.

I took care of everything.

How long were you in his employ?

Twenty days short of a year.

Prohibition wasn't to my taste...

so I found myself overseas, and in debt.

I'm a lawyer by education...

not disposition.

He was incompetent in that.

You were fond of him?

I was fond of his money.

Ratchett was crude...

demanding, insulting,
and most likely a felon.

When did you last see him?

It must have been just after 10:00.

He called me in to go over
our sales in Italy.

Milan, the sale of forgeries?

Yeah, yeah.
He wanted to look over the accounts.

I had to translate everything else.

The contracts were in French
and he didn't speak a word.

And when we stopped at Vinkovci...

I struck up a chat with
the colored doctor, Arbuthnot.

We had a couple of
drinks, stretch our legs.

He had some...

odd opinions about Stalin
I had to turn around.

I don't hold the man's race against him,
but I don't often take the Britishers.

When did your party end?

Yeah... He left just after 2:00.

Did you know of any specific
enemies Ratchett might have had?

Gosh.

Pick a number.

You confide that he have been threatened?

He got a couple of nasty letters.

I have them, if you like.
Some, at least.

He... Threw up the rest.

He threw them into the fire.

Merci, Mr. McQueen.

Thank you.

If we have any further questions,
we will call for you again.

Have you consider the Latin man Marquez?

Hell of a guy man.

And, well, you know, his kind...

They don't have the same distest
for murder, historically speaking.

You said you don't hold a
man's race against him.

I suppose...

depends on the race.

He was doing so well.

- Do you think it's McQueen?
- Too early to say.

I admit, I can't see him
stabbing a man 12 times in a frenzy.

Not sober, any way.
Who did it then?

I do not know yet.
It's time we ask.

- Ask? Who?
- The victim.

He has 12 stab wounds and as
Arbuthnot said they are patternless.

If the doctor is guilty...

He certainly didn't let his
influence his responsibility.

Hey, the watch.
Stopped at 1:15.

That agrees with the the doctor
on the time of death.

It is possible, yes.
Certainly possible.

- I don't quite understand.
- Well, I do not understand myself.

I understand nothing at all.

If you look at these two wounds...

They are powerful and deep,
and yet there is little blood.

But this was a frenzy attack.

Lashing here and there, no pattern
at all, just extreme violence.

And during all this, our victim,
vigorous, and anxious and full of coffee...

merely lies still and accepts
death without struggle...

when he also has here...

the means by which he might
defend himself.

For you.

Now, let us see.

Barbital. The mickey sleep.

They drugged him so
he could not use this.

And let her around here
a ladies handkerchief.

An object de luxe, handmade, boom,
two hundred francs in Paris.

And she even has an initial, "H".

- And our little friend, the pipe cleaner.
- Another clue.

Yes, a riot of clues
dropped most conveniently.

Yet only one appears, however,
to be perhaps genuine.

And maybe this ashtray provides
the accidental bread crumb.

The charred fragment of a note.

An attempt, perhaps,
to burn the evidence.

He may borrow your
equipment... Yes?

Thank you.

Now, I quick up to understand...

why a clue is left rather than
of what the object is?

We seek the truth from
within, not with out.

In this case, however, I may
welcome a little scientific assistance.

You will adjust the flame.

Not one of those nasty letters.

You're mistaken, Mon'Amie

This one has a secret to tell.

Look.

"As a strong blood is
on hand, you will die."

What does this mean?

Come with me, Bouc.

Let us fill in the gaps.

This was never a beach side puzzle.

I know the dead man's real name.

It is not Ratchett, but Cassetti.

I know that name.

Then you will also know the
name Armstrong.

The Armstrong case?

History shook the world.

Two years ago...

the renowned pilot,
Colonel John Armstrong...

and his wife, Sonia, woke to find
their only child, little Daisy...

Desperate...

The Armstrongs paid the ransom.

But soon after, Daisy
was found murdered by...

Ratchett, who was Cassetti.

Sonia Armstrong was with child
when she received the news.

The shock sent her into
premature labor.

Neither she, nor her baby survived.

How do you know this, Poirot?

Because John Armstrong
told me so himself.

He wrote to me to ask me for my help.

By the time I received the letter...

it was too late.

He was found dead of a gunshot wound.

Self-inflicted.

"Daisy Armstrong's blood is on
your hands, you will die for it."

Indeed you did.

- Monsieur Poirot?
- Yes, Michel.

Mrs. Hubbard wants to talk to you.
I held her as best as I could.

Uh. Mrs. Hubbard, I am
sorry to have kept you.

You have a head full of steam
and a mouth full of words.

You goddamn right I do.
What I have been trying to...

to tell you all day.

The murderer with in my
compartment last night.

I thought I would be killed.
Turns out I might have been...

Only he got Rachette instead.

I woke up in the dark and I knew
there was a man in my room.

You were certain it was a man?

I know what it feels like
to have a man in my bedroom.

I told your conductor, and he
wouldn't believe me.

I said, "Check the communicating door
between my room and Ratchett's."

"He must have left through there."

Sure enough, it was unbolted.

I know I locked it after...

what Ratchett said.

He made a rather
daring proposal.

Have you perhaps...?

Heard about the
Armstrong kidnapping?

You couldn't avoid it.

Morbid stuff.

The child's murderer, Cassetti...

died last night.

Ratchett was that man.

I told you, I knew
he was a rotten one.

You do believe me...?

About the man in my room?

I am aware that you
think I'm a silly woman.

But I have proof that it's true.

Might have fallen off Michel
when he was in your room.

I'm not missing it.

I found it at the foot of
my bed, on the cover...

right where I slept.

What do you call that?

I call it evidence.
Thank you very much, Mrs. Hubbard.

Have you ever been to America?

Once.

Years ago, briefly.

For what purpose?

- To confirm a suspicion.
- Which was?

That I wouldn't like it.

I was offered a post in Boston.

From Boston went straight back to London.

- Is that where Rachette was from? Boston?
- I don't know.

It wouldn't be proper...

to ask.

Carry on.

The last I saw...

Mr. Ratchett at nine o'clock.

I brought his coffee and
hung up his clothes.

You have the tooth ache I think.

I have got an extraction
booked in London this week.

Mr. Ratchett insisted on not
putting it off any longer.

He said he was tired of hearing
my suppressed groans.

This sympathetic Ratchett?

Was it his usual practice
to drink coffee at night?

Not at all.
But he had been very agitated lately.

He said he wanted to stay alert.
Especially through the last night.

He found a letter in his compartment.

Please tell me you didn't do this.

If I am to leave something
unpleasant on your pillow, sir...

It would not be a letter.

Coffee.

Surely such a...

profound and precise valet...

would never speak to his master
how you did.

Unless he knew his career was
coming to a sudden...

End.

Not mere tooth ache I think.

The lungs?

The thyroid.

Spread now to stomach.
Ends with my father, five years younger.

Months have passed.

"Inoperable, I am afraid,"
said the doctor.

Suddenly I wasn't afraid.

I would only do what I wanted.

I speak my mind now.

The coffee.

It appears that his cup was
mixed with the Barbital.

You of course, would tell me
that you did not put it in there.

Of course I did not.

When and from where did you
procure the coffee and the cups?

In the kitchen, sir.

I ordered it at dinner to be
ready at 9, and so it was.

Anyone could have
got hold of it before me.

Mr. Masterman.

I'm sorry about the tooth ache.

I love the little cakes.

So, Miss Pilar Estravados,
you are a missionary...

but you've trained as a nurse
before you change profession, yes?

I owed it to God.

You owed him a debt?

There were...

indulgent times in my life...

when I took more than I gave.

Gerhard Hardman.

Professor of Engineering.

It is science that will
win back for Germany her pride.

Mr. Marquez, listen, I want to be clear
of any association with the crime...

so please ask me anything.

Anything, I never lie anymore.

Did you leave your compartment
at all last night?

Only once, to get an aspirin.

Mrs. Hubbard offered me something earlier.

I declined it first
but when I could not rest...

I went to ask for it.

My conference is in Turin.

I am the only Austrian
to present, which means without me...

the talks would be sub standard.

Then I escaped prison, and I drived myself
into the United States...

where I swore never to
lie or steal again.

You see my friends, because when
people trust you, they buy more.

The Italians are cows.
The Spaniards, sheep.

The Belgians...

Nothing, I come to my room, which I share
with the unhappy English butler.

Annoying? He... Groans a lot.

But I am sure he saw me sleep
all night until morning.

I should say...

in case it is relevant.

There was an embarrassing moment.

When I went to see Mrs. Hubbard...

first I opened the wrong door.

I am sorry.

What time was this?

That must have been about...

Don't be sorry.

Twenty minutes to 11:00.

This is interesting.

As far as it is known, you was the
last person to see Ratchett alive.

- Your business?
- Automobiles.

I have three showrooms.

I come to America with nothing.
And now...

If what you say is true, Miss
Debnham will confirm it.

But it is true.

I would not lie.

I would not lie.

May it be possible that Miss Debenham left
your compartment without you noticing?

No. I sleep very lightly.

With the slightest sound
I woke up right.

I was surprised once.

Never again.

No, I didn't say I was a chauffeur.

The photographs that spilled
out of your luggage..

There was a beautiful one, the
little boy, wearing a chauffeur's hat...

visiting his papa at work.

Who did you chauffeur?

Ms. Estrada, why do your
hands have a calluses of a boxer?

I do my work in dangerous cities...

where I can not be governed by fear.

I trained to fight.

But you do not you trust your God anymore?

Since you had surprise?

No, in case he is busy.

God is always busy.

It's Masterman.

A man dying he is the man
with nothing to lose.

Bravo, Bouc.
Except for the problem of Mr. Marquez...

who has now confirmed that his
bunk mate, Masterman...

was reading in his bed
at the time of death.

If it were easy, I would not be famous.
Next.

Miss Debenham...

You do not mind to brace the air?

For you, we have the picnic.

Oh, you made my room mate
suffer cramped... I see.

Use the best location to extract
the truth from each suspect.

Put her off balance, me freeze.

Clever.

Will you write on your full
name and address please?

A pale move by the way.

Ms. Estravados told me you
asked the the color of her dressing gown.

"Mary Hermione Debenham."

Do you ever go by Hermione?

A constant Marry when I'm not employed
as "Miss Debenham." Left-handed.

Unusual, I know.

You mustn't have your theory fixed
if you are testing my handwriting.

What did you think of the dead man?

I can't say. I didn't
think about him.

Don't quite see the point of your question.

Forgive me, mademoiselle, they
are my little originalities.

Human nature is perverse
in its complexity.

To plumb it, it takes the right tools.

These are toys, not tools, Hercule.

And I prefer that you put them away.

The direct method? Parfait.

You knew the doctor before traveling?

Dr. Arbuthnot?

No.

But such an instant attraction?

We are not in America...

Miss Debenham. There are
no laws against what you may feel.

Nor are there laws against
silence, of which...

I'm hold my...

I have never been to America.

Perhaps I may ask about some...

words I've overheard?

You and the stranger, Arbuthnot,
are closer than strangers might be.

You said:

"Not now, when we're done,
then no one can touch us"

What did you mean?

Do you think I made a murder?

To a man with a hammer,
every problem is a nail.

You live crime.

- You see evil every day.
- No so.

I see enough crimes to know that
the criminal act is the anomaly.

I think it takes a fracture
off with a soul...

to murder another human being.

I ask again, what did you mean?

As we established...

there are no laws against my silence.

Very well.

And afterward, Princess Dragomiroff?

After dinner, I went to bed.

God blessed me with long life...

but cursed me with a bad back
to make it miserable.

About close to 1:00...

I called for Fr�oulein Schmidt.

She massaged me...

and read me for a while. Then I sleep.

Were you ever acquainted with...

a family by the name of Armstrong?

They endured an unspeakable tragedy.

I was an admirer of Sonia
Armstrong's mother...

Linda Arden, the actress.

A once a century talent.

Miss Arden was to do acting.

She would have become the first
woman titan of Broadway...

were it not for the tragedy.

And this, Linda Arden, she's dead?

She might as well be.

She no longer leaves her home.

Daisy was my goddaughter.

She was...

I don's see how this relates
to our trouble, detective.

The man, killed last night,
his true name was Cassetti.

The man who murdered
little Daisy Armstrong.

I see.

I admit, I know this family,
and now that man is dead.

The coincidence...

must seem unbearable.

You may be permitted a coincidence.

I must now ask a few questions
of you Froulein Schmidt.

No, there is no need.

I can answer to her character.

Even still, if you will allow.

Froulein Please answer in German.

But your Excellency does not understand.

That's what it is about.

Is this yours?
H of Hildegarde?

That is silk.
It's too fine for me.

Is this the truth about last night?

As she said.
She sent the inspector to look for me...

Then I went back to bed.

Did you see someone when he returned?

Only the other inspector.

One who was...

"The other conductor."
You mean Michel?

No. A different one.

Please come.

Are you sure you didn't see him?

I'm certain. The other conductor was a
small man with a short beard.

Froulein, there is no other conductor.

I know what I saw.

I remember because his voice was high
and the uniform was same exactly.

Although I suspect missing one button.

Sir, I need your pass key immediately.

We need to find a uniform
and a red kimono.

Thousands of photographs,
any less pair of socks...

Dressing gowns in every colors, but red...

still no contraband conduct his uniform.

Have we already checked all the
passenger of luggage?

All except for the Count and
the Countess Andrenyi, monsieur.

It is forbidden to search their suitcases.

They travel under diplomatic visas.

Where else could be?

There is one last suitcase
we have not checked.

My own.

The killer is mocking me.

Good. His first mistake.

And as the night must follow the day...

No, it's not mine.

I told you of the conductor.

- Why would I tell you if it was me?
- You would not...

which makes your compartment
the ideal place to hide it.

Voila, the button.

And if the conductor's uniform...

Why not a conductor's pass key?

Now we know how the killer
magically passed through locked doors.

- Bourbon.
- McQueen.

Now what are we looking for?

Five hundred pounds.

McQueen also had a ledger
all his dealings with Rachette.

Where is it?

Poirot?

Bouc, keep everyone inside!

Please, stop!

Mossier, stay where you are.

Thank you gentlemen. Thank you.

So, it was McQueen?
You have your man?

How could he?

I didn't kill him?!

You tried to burn Rachette's accounts...

but there are illegibly places.
The maths do not tally...

because you have been
stealing from him.

It is full of the...

The... The English word?
The chocolate?

- Fudge?
- Fudge. It is full of the fudge.

You stole from him.

You thought you would be found out.

That is why you killed him!

Yeah.

Yeah, you are damn right,
I stole from him.

Thousands.

I knew his money wasn't honest.

Who wondered it would matter
if I skimmed some of the top?

But let me ask you a question.

Why would I slaughter my cash cow?

I didn't do it.

- I didn't kill him!
- He didn't.

He didn't.

I expect his alibi revolves around me
drinking till the early hours

Well, it's true.

I saw him having whiskey and remarked
in the lesser quality of American liquor.

He offered me a tipple to
change my mind and another.

We got to arguing politics.
He had some...

tom-fool opinions on Stalin I had to
correct, but the man knows his spirits.

A word, please, monsieur.

You can't confirm you
were with him all night?

We smoked and spoke
till nearly 2, yes.

Ah such charms, him with
his cigarettes and you...

Ah yes, you are the only man on
the train who smokes a pipe.

May I see your pipe and
your tobacco, please?

Of course.

And you, Dr Arbuthnot, was traveling
from India, I believe. Yes?

You are interviewing me now?

Were you ever in Rachett's
compartment before he was killed?

Certainly not.

But this is one of your pipe
cleaners, n'est-Ce pas?

If you found that in the dead
man's cabin, look elsewhere.

I am a doctor, sir.
I heal people, I do not hurt them.

About this, you must have
worked very hard to become a doctor.

Not many of your race are
allowed the opportunity.

Middlesex Medical college,
permits one per class.

I had the honor in '24.

I was a sniper in my tour.

Sharp shooter.

Saved more than a few officers.

More grateful recognized
a fair mind with a steady hand..

They supported my education.

I took their generosity as a debt.

Did you know of Colonel Armstrong?

Might have know two or three Armstrong.

Tommy in the sixties...

- Selby Armstrong...
- No I meant, Colonel John Armstrong.

He had an American wife and his
child was kidnapped and murdered.

Never came across them.

When did you first meet Miss Debenham?

We met when we shared the railway
convoy cart from Kirkuk to Nissibin.

She claims otherwise, and she has
made herself problematically suspicious.

Mary is a lady.

Leave her out of this.
I can vouch for her.

As you have vouched for McQueen's time?

- You won't listen to reasons.
- Never.

You are lucky. The good doctor insisted
he did not let you out of his sight.

See? There. I could
not have done it.

Yes, you could.

Rachette took a sleeping
draft each evening.

You could add Barbital,
easily access that drug.

Do the same with one of the
doctor's many drinks..

And the chance to kill him is clear.

Why would I do any of that?

We've established your motive.

Perhaps I would suggest a different one.

A different reason,
a more personal reason.

"A lawyer by education,
not by disposition".

Why did you pursue the law I wonder?

Was it to appease a much loved
but demanding father?

One who himself have made a great
success in the same field...

and then lost his position?

There was a renowned
McQueen, was that not?

The District Attorney for
the State of New Jersey...

responsible for the prosecution
of the Armstrong case.

They didn't have a suspect.

My dad was pressured to go after
this poor French woman...

a maid with a weak
alibi, Susanne.

He hung this whole case on her.

She killed herself.

She was an innocent.

By the time the evidence led
to Cassetti, he was long gone.

It tore my old man apart.

I couldn't do anything for him.

And yet you claim that you did not
know Ratchett was Cassetti.

No. No.

But you found him.

No.

- You found him. You bled him dry.
- No.

In order to settle your father's debts
and then finally, to settle...

No, no, no.

No. It was not...

It wasn't like that.
It was not...

- Some one, kicking the door.
- Doctor!

Covered my face!

Alright, this needs to come out now.

- I want my bag.
- Of course.

It's in my compartment.

There will be no fingerprints.

The killer was disposing
of the murder weapon.

The killer didn't hit her lung or artery.

She's lucky to be alive.

You all are.

Yes, some genius!

Why haven't you solved this case?

You must give the man some time here.

Yeah? Well...

I can't give them much more.
I don't have any blood left.

Yeah.

Accosting Mr. McQueen and the
real killer is right here.

One of you people.

I don't know who you are.
I said nothing.

Please, leave me alone.

Say something.

My friends, the tracks will be
cleared by the morning please.

Please return to your rooms.

I'm sleeping here..

Where everyone can see me
and I can see everyone.

You should all do the same.
Can't say of it..

Remain in the open, safely in view,
until morning.

The killer will never
hesitate to kill again.

I will convey the same
message to the Andrenyi...

diplomatic immunity or not.

If you may, I will look
at your passports.

You know that I must talk with her.

By the way there is a grease
spot on your wife's name.

You might want to look at that.

Elena is not well.

If you do not permit me, your reluctance
will be noted to the Yugoslav police...

and I have no doubt that they
will arrest both of you...

- How dare you?
- Honey!

You are funny looking,
Monsieur Poirot.

All detectives so funny looking?

I am sorry to wake you,
Madame la Comtesse.

I'm always awake at night.

In the day I sleep.

Some fear darkness, but I
cannot stand the light.

You are always under
the influence of...

Barbital.

Barbital, Barbital.

I take oceans of it.

Oh, there is no use in lie, love.

He can see right through us.

I can not go outside without it.

I can not sleep without it.

I take it against my fears.

What are you afraid of?

Everything.

Your passport has your maiden
name, as Goldenberg.

Jewish, yes?

Not so Jewish.
My middle name isn't Maria.

And you are a dancer like your husband?

No, not like my husband.

Code ballet.

He is touched by angels.

I rely by passion and
hard work to become adequate.

Excuse me.
I must lie down again.

Is this your only dressing gown?

No, I have another.
Golden-colored chiffon.

I like speaking to detectives.

You never know what
they will ask you next.

I am particularly good at capitals.

My governess was in a
strict love with Geography.

He is satisfied?

I am always satisfied
when I uncover a liar.

Madame, your name is not
Elena, it is Helena.

Despite your clumsy attempt to
change it here and in your luggage.

My husband heard of a
piece of evidence found...

a handkerchief embroider with an
"H", and I didn't want my "H" involved.

So we changed it.
The luggage and the passport.

It's no crime to want
to be distant from trouble.

Yet here is trouble.

A curious detail about the Armstrong
tragedy at the heart of this case...

how many people
were wounded by it.

The younger sister.

The actress mother...

stage name Linda Arden.

I suppose she too was
of Jewish ancestry...

as who is most likely
to take a stage name?

Is is too far to suggest?

Her original name was Goldenberg?

Especially when we find a young
woman of the same age...

As her surviving daughter...

living in a world of fear.

The sister of Sonia Armstrong.

Get out!

I hear noises and I run.
Just in time, yes?

You must now believe the count
and the countess are the killers.

The count is protective. The countess is
not someone to kill a bedroom spider.

And you may desist with this

You are never an Austrian,
nor a German nor a professor.

But a good imitation.
Was it based on someone you know?

I'll look a butcher when
I grew up as a Kraut.

A good man, great accent.

What was it?

Said "Tu-ri�n"...

The emphasis on the wrong syllable
for a proud and proper Teuton.

"Turin".

You... Are a sharp knife,
I give you that.

Herr Professor Gerhard Hardman...

It's my cover.

I am sorry about the colored folks cracks.

Oh, I'm half a hid myself.

Cyrus Bethman Hardman.

You are a Pinkerton detective?

Thirty years.

I was in Istanbul, coming back
from my job when the office cabled.

Ratchett asked for a man to tail
him, offering triple time.

Like maybe nearby.

He told me to look out for a
small dark man with a high voice.

I watched that hall...

all night through a
crack in my door.

Any thug...

Had to go by me first.

I will take my oath on it.

And would you also take your oath on
your 30 years as a Pikerton detective?

Or would you lie to me again...

and deny that you were, in
fact, a police man first?

Your gun, the chequered grip,
the blue finish...

produced for the
Police Positive edition.

1927 issued.

It appears there are no end
to the lies manufactured just for me.

You can leave your gun
as you go professor.

From the position of his cabin,

it would have been impossible to miss.

Unless Ratchett's
door was open...

as Pilar Estravados
claims she opened it.

In which case, someone
could have been...

masked from his view.

My dear Katherine.

This is an abominable crime.

And I'm struck, my Katherine.

I can not find the crack in the wall.

Why does one of them elude me?

I have always been...

So sure.

Too sure.

But now I am very humble.
And I will say, like a little child...

"I do not know".

I'm very afraid, my Katherine.

My apologies,
ladies and gentlemen.

It is not safe on board while the
engine is put back on the track.

We have to wait in
the tunnel. Thank you.

Where are they taking the dogs?

They will be happy.

- That's not right.
- Just to stretch the legs, it's good.

No, it's not alright.

Are we stuck?

You asked for me?

Another interrogation?

Oh, no. I enjoy your company.

Ah... Please.

I have a list of ten questions I
am not nearer to answering...

and the train is about to leave.

You have a clear mind...

and I thought you might
produce an insight.

"The handkerchief."

"The scarlet kimono. The uniform."

"The time on the watch."

"Was he murdered then?
Earlier or later?"

"By one person or more?"

"Which of them?"

Sorry, I can't help you.

Perhaps there's an eleventh
question you don't know to ask yet...

that will give you the answer to the rest.

Perhaps.

I could point and easy finger
at the Countess Andrenyi,

I discovered she was Sonia
Armstrong's sister.

- Are you certain?
- Yes

I suspect she may perhaps be innocent.

Perhaps.

But so many people have lied to me
on this train, I do not seem to mind.

- You yourself did so effortlessly.
- Me?

You told me you've
never been to America.

You also concealed the fact that at
the time of the tragedy...

you were living in the
Armstrong Household...

as governess to their daughter.
And you know this.

I have my living to get.

A girl detained in connection
to a murder case...

No decent family would engage me.

Miss Debenham, you planned
Rachette's murder.

And then you sent for the
Countess to witness it.

If she saw him dead, the Helena
you knew might return.

You waited for your room mate to
sleep, and she did not.

You drugged her.
But the Barbital only gave her a headache.

She begged for an aspirin!

When the train stopped,
When the conductor was on the station...

when the coach was clear at last,

when you were allowed to enter
Rachette's compartment, unseen!

You loved Daisy Armstrong.
You killed Cassetti!

Cassetti was a pig.

He deserved to die.

She didn't kill him.

I did.

Mary, go.

I can't let you take the blame...

for what I did alone.

Mary, please go.

John Armstrong was my best
friend, my commander.

He believed in me.

He sent me to medical
school, gave me a future.

Cassetti destroyed it.

In grief, I found Mary.

And I found Ratchett.

Our plan was to avail him to
the police, that's what you heard.

But when I saw his face...

I knew he didn't deserve a trial.

So, you drugged McQueen.

You changed the time on the watch...

so that you could lie about
the time of death.

I couldn't let Mary be accused.

Or McQueen.

My sins are mine to pay for alone.

I am a soldier.

A soldier kills to protect.

And now, Mr. Poirot, I must
protect myself from you.

Why aren't you dead yet?

Poirot?

Gentlemen, stop!

Sir, you need to get all
the passengers back on the train.

You will retire...

away from the train...

until I tell you to return.

You tell your lies.

Then you think no one will know.

But there are two people who will know.

Yes, two people.

Your God...

and the Hercule Poirot.

It is time to solve this case.

Dr. Arbuthnot asked me
why I was not yet dead.

He knew of course the answer.

A sharpshooter who does not
kill at close range.

Your shot was not a mistake,
it was a surgery.

You couldn't kill me because
you are not a killer.

None of you are killers.

And, yet, someone must be.

There are two possible
solutions to this crime.

One difficult, because it fits
with most, but not all of the facts...

and one more...

complex.

The first solution.

Ratchett had enemies.

A rouge mafia gets onto
the train at Vinkovci...

as McQueen and Arbuthnot take the air.

Equipped with a uniform and an
pass key, he stabs Ratchett.

He leaves through Ms Hubbard's
compartment and makes his escape.

No.

No, no, no. It doesn't work.

Why hide the uniform?

Who drugged Ratchett?

Who stabbed Mrs. Hubbard?

Damn it man!

So I ask, who is next to benefit?

This crime is murdering of a murderer.

The benefit is, perhaps...

to the spirit, an
ease of suffering.

To quite a shouting voice in the
head that prevents sleep.

There is a murderer among us.

So...

We have Dr. Arbuthnot, a dedicated
grateful friend to Colonel Armstrong.

He meets and finds solace in the company
of the governess, Mary Debenham...

who is almost like a
mother to the little girl.

And so close to Mrs.
Armstrong's young sister...

Helena Goldenberg.

Married to a powerful man,
no stranger to rage and violence.

We travel also with
Daisy's godmother...

to whom belongs...

the monogrammed handkerchief
found at the scene of the crime.

The letter "H" in the Russian alphabet,
of course, pronounced "N".

Natalia Dragomiroff.

And her devoted maid with the chef's eye.

Who was she before her current employ?
Might I suggest the Armstrong's cook?

But we are not yet done.

The nurse in charge of Daisy...

her new found religious ill, born of
guilt of allowing her child...

to be abducted. It was you...

who was in her room the night when
Rachette came in through the window.

Did you have a glass of wine
too many with your supper that night?

Have you blamed
yourself ever since?

For not being alert to stop him?

She knew nothing but kindness...

and love, until...

until I...

No need to divine with me, sir.

I was Colonel Armstrong's
bat man in the war.

And afterwards, his valet in New York.

As fine a man has God ever made.

Would his chauffeur agree?

Was it a bank loan secured by Armstrong
allows him to build his automobile empire.

He is in debt for life.
Who else can we count?

What of the Pinkerton
detective, once a police officer?

Assigned to the Armstrong case?

And he becomes attached to some one for,
there is another uncelebrated victim.

You fell in love with the maid
before she was falsely accused.

You quit the police when
you witnessed the...

the travesty of justice...

when McQueen's father insisted
on her arrest...

when she took her own life.

No! No, no!

Susanne was a so gentle.

And she fell for me.

Old and already getting Grey.
I told her she could do better...

but there she was...

on time for every date.

Why else...

is a train so full
in the dead of winter?

Why the inconsistent **
Why the abundance of evidence. Why...?

Why the conductor?

Pierre Michel of Avignon...

who lost his sister...

the accused maid...

Susanne Michele.

Only one soul can claim to have
lost more than any of you.

The tragic Linda Arden...

Mother of Sonia...

Grandmother of Daisy.

Retired from the stage...

but for one final performance.

You are an awfully clever man.

A murderer should have one victim.

When Ratchett kills
Daisi Armstrong...

A dozen lives are broken,
deformed, ended.

They demand justice!

Of all these wounded souls, we
must finally answer...

Who among them is a killer?

Who takes up the knife?
The answer is...

Not single one of you could have done it.

Nor any pair.

It can only have been done...

by all of you

Together.

Together.

Even when the avalanche
changes everything...

As does the detective,
plan was changed.

The kimono, the uniform.

A remarkable improvisation, the doctor
knows how to wound without killing.

Each had their part to play.

Do it!

It was my plan.

I recruited them.

I had Hardman track down Cassetti.

I sent McQueen to work for
him, and then Masterman.

McQueen could arrange the travel
on the day that Michel was on duty.

Mr. Ratchett?

Goodnight.

And so it is done.

For the death of the innocent.

A life... For a life.

Revenge.

No one should hang for this but me!

It was my plan!

Tell the police that it
was me alone.

There is no life left in me anymore.

They...
Have a chance now.

Helena, I prey...

Has a chance.

They can...

Go, live...

Find some joy...

Somewhere.

Let it end with me.

They are not killers.

They are good people.

They can be good again.

There was right,
there was wrong.

And now there is you.

I can not judge this.

You must decide.

Do you wish to go free without
punishment for your crime?

Then you must only commit one more.

I'll not stop you.

You can't let them kill you.

You give my body to the lake, and
you will go away innocent at the station.

You must silence me.

Bouc can lie.

I can not.

Do it! One of you!

No.

I already died with Daisy.

No!

You said your role was to find justice.

What is justice here?

Sometimes, the law of man is not enough.

Where does conscience lie?

Buried with Daisy.

My Dear Colonel Armstrong.

Finally, I can answer your letter...

at least with the thoughts in head
and the feeling in my heart...

that, somewhere,
you can hear me.

I've now discovered the truth of
the case, and it is...

profoundly disturbing.

I have seen the fracture of the human soul.

So many broken lives, so
much pain and anger...

giving way to the poison
of deep grief...

until one crime became many.

I have always wanted to believe
that man is rational and civilized.

My very existence depends
upon this hope...

upon order, and methods
and the little gray cells.

But now, perhaps, I'm asked...

to listen instead...

to my heart.

Ladies and gentlemen...

I have understood in this case
that the scales of justice...

cannot always be evenly weighed.

And I must learn, for once...

to live with the imbalance.

There are no killers here.

Only the people who deserve
a chance to heal.

The police have accepted my
first solution to the crime...

the lone assassin who made his escape.

I will leave the train
here to conclude formalities.

You are all free to go.

May you find your peace with this.

May we all.

Hello.

I'm looking for a Mr Poirot.
He is needed on a very urgent matter.

He is on holiday.

The Kassner case again?

No, sir, far worse.

I have to take you to
Egypt straight away.

There was a murder, sir,
right on the bloody Nile.

Are you the detective?

Yes.

I am the detective.

Could you please straighten your tie?

I will see you at the car.

Here it is, sir.

Subtitled by Clarity.
Previo by Antillan0