All language subtitles for Agatha.Christies.Poirot.S13E01.720p.BluRay.x264-YELLOWBiRD

It is with enormous
pleasure that I give you

our Crime Writer of the Year,
Mrs. Ariadne Oliver!

Surely you remember her?

Celia Ravenscroft?

She is your goddaughter,

is she not?

Is she?

It's just that one has so many!

Mrs. Oliver, may I have
your autograph?

Thank you

Oh... that Celia!

I haven't seen her
in a very long time.

Thank you.

May I confide in you?

There's something I really must
find out,

something of great moment.

A mystery!

Celia Ravenscroft, you see,

intends to marry my son,
Desmond.

Why is that a mystery?

Is there something wrong
with Desmond?

No, there's
nothing wrong with Desmond.

No, but it's all just...

very sudden.

And one has to know
about people,

especially people one's
welcoming into one's family.

Mrs. Oliver,

what I want to know is this...

did her father

kill her mother,

or did the mother
kill the father?

I don't think I heard you
properly. Pardon?

I know it's 12
or 13 years ago now,

but it did cause a fuss
at the time.

You must remember...

General and Mrs. Ravenscroft?

Of course I remember,

it's just that I couldn't
quite believe my ears, Mrs...

Burton-Cox.

Mrs. Burton-Cox,

it has been nice meeting you.

But I must find out
the truth.

I'm at a loss to see how I...

Ask your goddaughter.

Ask Celia, please!

I shouldn't dream
of doing such a thing!

It's impossible
to shake off,

and now this frightful woman
wants me to

quiz Celia about it!

What do you think she's after?

Je ne sais pas.

I don't really know
what I should do.

What would you do,

were you me?

That is a question
most difficult, Madame.

I know how I, Hercule Poirot,
would act in any circumstance,

but how you would act,
I do not know that.

I do not know that at all.

Excusez-moi,
s'il vous plaît.

Hercule Poirot speaks.

Ah, my dear Doctor.

If Poirot can be
of any assistance...

he comes at once.

Tout de suite.

George, my coat and my hat,
s'il vous plaît.

Yes, Sir.

Madame,

it is my dear friend,
Dr. Willoughby.

He has some...

some trouble.

Please do forgive me.

But you haven't answered
my question.

What should I do about
the dreadful Burton-Cox?

The thing that you
should do, Madame...

and this I advise you
to do

most strenuously...
is nothing.

Rien.

Hmm.

- Merci.
- Thank you, sir.

Mon ami.

Poirot, thank God.

I am so sorry.

Hello, Poirot.

I heard you were coming.

Ah, Detective Sergeant Beale.

Detective Inspector.

Ah.

Was he still practicing,
Dr. Willoughby?

He'd been semi-retired
for years.

In effect, I run the Institute,

but my father kept his office
and continued his research.

He saw patients?

He hadn't treated anyone
for a long time.

Oh.

This, it is how he
was discovered?

That's correct.

Seen enough?

Oui.

- Drain it off!
- Sir'.

In your kind of work, Doctor,

is this kind of
contraption normal?

Hydriatic procedures
in the treatment of insanity

were quite common
20 years ago, Inspector.

I was not, I'm afraid, ever
convinced of their efficacy,

but I was the junior...

and he was my father.

And your father, he employed
this treatment?

He gave up on it in the end.

Concluded it was dangerous.

Looks like he was
hit on the head first.

Come away, Doctor.

I hope you don't mind that
I called

for Monsieur Poirot
straightaway.

No, I don't.

Poirot and I

have worked together before.

I hope you don't mind my asking
for you

to vouch for your movements
last night.

You surely don't regard me
as a suspect?

I am just doing my job, Sir.

But this was my own father.

Ah.

The procedure, it is quite
standard,

cher ami.

Did you sleep at home?

No.

No, my wife lives in Kent
with the children.

It's not always convenient

for me to travel home at night,
so I keep an apartment here.

- In the Institute?
- Upstairs.

Nothing glamorous.

And that's where you stayed
last night?

Yes.

Please, excuse me.

Did you know your father
was in the building?

No, I'd absolutely no idea.

But he keeps strange hours...

I mean, he kept.

Dr. Willoughby,
are you okay?

There's a cop on the door.

Please, don't be alarmed,
Marie.

This is my assistant,
Miss MacDermott.

Mademoiselle.

Who are these guys?

What's going on around here?

It's good to see you,
Mrs. Oliver.

I think you should call me
Ariadne.

Thank you for coming.

You said you worked nearby.

Yes, a solicitor's office.

Really?

We have much to catch up on,
haven't we, Celia?

It must have seemed odd...
my ringing up out of the blue.

I haven't been a very
conscientious godmother, I know.

I don't remember coming to your
confirmation.

I don't remember having one.

Oh, dear.

But you sent a very nice check
on my 21st birthday,

so I would say your duties
are done.

It's bizarre, though,
I saw your photo in the paper

"Crime Writer of the Year,"

and now we're having tea.

Yes. Well, you see,
a woman came up

and buttonholed me.

She said, "I believe you have
a goddaughter

named Celia Ravenscroft."

Oh, was she a friend
of mine?

A Mrs. Burton-Cox?

She said she thought you might
be going to marry her son...

Douglas, is it?

Desmond.

Desmond.

What does Desmond do?

He's a pianist.

Oh!

Splendid.

Making any money?

Oh, God, no.

He's still at the Academy.

He gets a recital now and then.

It actually takes a while to
become a concert pianist.

Look, I don't know
what you know,

but I'm fond of Desmond,
and he's fond of me,

but his mother is
something else entirely.

What did she want?

She thought that,

since you are my godchild,

I might be able to
ask you something...

something quite delicate.

What she went on to say was...

"Can you find out if her father
murdered her mother,

or her mother murdered
her father?"

For God's sake...
how dare she?!

She actually said that?

The beast!

She thought I might know
something about it.

But at the time I was on
a lecture tour of America.

And you were what, 14?

I was 12.

I was good friends
with your mother.

We were finished
together in Paris.

But then I married
and went somewhere,

and she married
and went somewhere.

And then your father
was posted again...

was it Rhodesia?

It was India, but I was sent to
school in England.

In the holidays, I boarded
with a family in Suffolk.

I hardly saw mummy and daddy,

until they retired
to Eastbourne.

But you weren't at
Eastbourne when it...

No.

I was away at school.

What can you tell me, Ariadne?

Have you got
any inside knowledge?

No, my dear, I haven't.

I know only what
I read in the papers...

no obvious motive,

no sign of a quarrel,

no evidence of attack
from outside.

Nobody knows!

Well, that's
just it... nobody knows.

I was shielded from it
when I was young.

But I think of it constantly.

Please,

please find out what happened.

Not for Mrs. Burton-Cox...
for me.

I have to know.

Will you help me, Ariadne?

I have to help Celia.

The girl deserves to know.

Yet I can't, for the life of me,
see what to do.

How may one discover anything,
years afterwards?

I know you're busy,
but will you help me

to look into it?

Je suis désolé, Madame.

I have an affaire
of consequence,

to which I must attend.

The matter of the Ravenscrofts,

it is in the past,
and, Poirot,

he must march in the present.

Give me one moment of your time.

My friend Margaret Ravenscroft
died a horrible death.

I have to find out why.

What should I do?

Bien sûr.

Madame, what have you
told to me, hmm?

A husband and the wife
who never argue,

who lived in complete harmony...

who has ever has heard
of such a thing?!

No, there was a motive...

there is always a motive.

And if the police they could not
find this motive at the time,

then this motive,
how do you say it?

It is unorthodox.

No, the answer, Madame,
lies in the past.

You must delve into the past.

You say they lived
near to Eastbourne?

You have acquaintance there?

Well, then go!

Allez-y, allez-y!

Drive about, ask the questions,
be the person with the nose!

Ah, I see.

And someone will remember
something.

Always someone
remembers something.

You mean elephants.

Sorry, I was thinking
of elephants

at that dinner last night.

With hesitation, I ask why?

Because the meringue got stuck
in my teeth.

I see.

The pathway of logic,
it is there somewhere, but...

Meringue, dentures,

ivory... elephants.

Must find the elephants.

Elephants can remember.

Well, then go!

Drive about, ask the questions,
be the person with the nose!

If I had to say
which was most likely,

I should say my father.

It's more natural for a man
to shoot someone, isn't it?

I don't think my mother
would have fired a gun.

Who else was in
the house when it happened?

There was an old housekeeper,

she was half-blind
and a bit deaf,

And sometimes there
was my aunt...

and there was a foreign girl,
an au pair girl.

She'd been my governess
when I was young.

She'd come back to help mummy,
who'd been unwell.

Ariadne!

My word!

Come in.

- Come in.
- Thank you.

Where did we last meet?

The Llewellyn wedding, was it?

All the bridesmaids
in a vile shade of apricot!

Funny, the things one remembers.

Bridesmaids.

Geldings.

Dogs.
Other things, one forgets.

I saw my goddaughter
the other day...

Celia Ravenscroft.

You remember the Ravenscrofts?

The Ravenscrofts?

Wait a minute.

That was that very sad tragedy,
wasn't it?

Yes. It wasn't far from here.

Oh, I never knew them in Sussex.

Knew them in Amritsar,
not in Sussex.

She used to wear a wig,
do you remember?

Who, Margaret?

Yes!

She wore a wig!

I don't know if she had cancer,
or was she just bald?

She tried to persuade me
to get one.

Bit bloody hard in Amritsar.

Awful business, though.

At the time of the shooting,
I was in America...

speaking engagements.

You are so modern, Ariadne!

No one else in my circle
has speaking engagements.

They only left the house
to take a walk.

But they didn't come back
for their dinner.

Somebody or other
found them dead.

The revolver was lying
by their bodies.

Bloody hard on the dog,
I thought.

Rotten way to treat an animal!

He kept a revolver in the house?

Military type, they often do.
Fear of the natives, you see.

Not usually a problem
in Sussex, but...

Unfathomable things
in everybody's lives.

She was neurotic...

- always.
- Was she?

Very nervy.

Didn't like India at all.

Odd girl.

Or was that the other one?

I expect you heard the gossip?

What was the gossip, Julia?

He was writing his memoirs,
she was taking dictation.

Who, Margaret?

No, the French girl!

She was young...

and French.

There was talk.

People thought he might have
shot his wife

because he wanted
to marry her.

Then why shoot himself
as well?

Good point!

I always thought

it was more about Margaret.

I can't help thinking there
might have been a man.

Why do you think that?

Oh, the wigs.

Sexual display.

Mating ritual.

I thought you said she had them
because she was bald?

Well, she was pretty, too.

Legs.

All I am saying is,

one of them was having
an affair.

In this part of the world,
Ariadne,

one either hunts
or one has affairs.

It is a variation on what
the French call

the "bain de surprise".

I should say it's a surprise.

Hot water followed by
cold water, is that right?

Oui, the scalding hot,
and the freezing cold.

The principle, it is one of
severe shocks to the system,

and is often used in conjunction
with the electroshock therapy.

Bloody hell.

Thank you.

I'm quite glad I'm normal.

Well, we may all be thankful,
mon ami,

that we are in possession
of our minds,

and some of us more so
than the others.

But the question, it is this...

who has brought le Professeur
to this place,

and secured him?

The night watchman said
the door wasn't forced.

Is there a key that is missing?

No.

Everything's in order.

No fingerprints.

And Dr. Willoughby himself?

The man's in shock.
I let him go back to Kent.

We can interview him later.

Oh, hi.

- You mind me coming in?
- It's against regulations

Non, non, non, non.

Mais non, mademoiselle,
pas du tout.

Vous ne l'avez vu
à l'avance?

Huh?

No,

I have never
been down here before.

Creepy, isn't it?

I have the kettle boiling,

if you gentleman would
like a cup of tea.

Do you live locally,
Miss MacDermott?

James Street.

It's about a 10-minute walk.

And did you walk home
on the night

Professor Willoughby
was murdered?

Yes.

And do you live alone?

No, I share an apartment
with some other girls.

Is there someone who can vouch
for you being at home all night?

Did I say I was at home
all night?

I don't remember that.

May I inquire, mademoiselle,
from where you originate?

Boston area.

But I always wanted
to come to London.

I guess I just had a yen to live
in England for a while

and do the things
that English people do...

by which, I do not mean

murdering eminent professors
of psychiatry.

So you think it was an English
person who has done this?

I'd say the stakes are high,
wouldn't you?

How well did you know
Professor Willoughby?

I didn't know him at all.

So you can't tell us anything

about what
he's currently working on?

Look, I'm a filing clerk,

I don't know anything
about psychiatry,

I do files from A to Zed.

I just answer the telephone,

make the tea.

If you please to return
to the night of the murder.

At what hour did you leave
your work?

Usual time, around 5:30.

Mm-hmm, and where did
you go then?

I went home.

But you just said you didn't!

I don't think so.

It's a murder inquiry, miss.

Yeah, okay.

I'm sorry, uh...

I went home. I didn't see
any of the other girls.

I had sardines on toast,

and then I went to bed.

So nobody can corroborate
your story?

I guess not.

It is strange
that Dr. Willoughby

also has no alibi
for the night in question.

He doesn't?

But surely his wife...

He says he spent the night here,
in his flat.

Oh.

I see.

Well, I didn't know that.

I assumed he'd gone home.

Does Nanny Matcham...

I mean, Mrs. Matcham live here?

Who shall I say?

Say Miss Ariadne.

- Come in, ma'am.
- Thank you so much.

Well, well.

It must be years.

It is years, Nanny.

What a lot of photographs
you have'.

Yes, I have, haven't I?

All my little
boys and girls.

All over the world, I went.

I know, Nanny.

- Where were you?
- In India?

Shimla,

Hong Kong, Egypt...

That time when I came out
to the Punjab...

20-odd years ago...

was it the Ravenscrofts
you were with?

Service family. Did you look
after their children?

No, not me.

No, I was with the Barnabys.

Here's your tea, Mrs. Matcham.

Oh, thank you,
my dear.

Of course, I knew
the Ravenscrofts

because they were great friends
of the Barnabys.

- Were they?
- Yes.

And the Burton-Coxes.

I'll finish that.

I'll get on with the laundry,
Mrs. Matcham.

Thank you, my dear.

You really are such a help.

Did you say
the Burton-Coxes?

Or did I mean

the Carter-Foxes?

Well, you know who I mean!

They were great friends,

and everybody was
very friendly out there.

Did you by any chance meet

the Ravenscrofts when
you were on that visit?

No, I didn't.

What were they like?

Well...

They had that trouble.

What trouble was that, Nanny?

Oh, an awful thing happened.

Oh.

- Did it?
- Hm.

I heard they were a nice couple.

Oh, yes, yes, they were
a very nice couple,

and it was a shock.

They said she had always
been touched.

And there was that story
of the...

of the baby and the river.

Ooh!

Took a babe from its pram

and threw it into the river.

Just threw it into the river!

What was the trouble
in Amritsar, Nanny?

Well, she was in that
mental place,

and they let her out.

And it happened all over again.

What happened, Nanny?

They had let her have them back,
the boy and a girl.

It was the boy this time.

Of course,
we all knew it was her.

Who, Nanny?

Well, whichever one of them
it was...

Oh.

It's so lovely
to see you again.

I remember you when you had your
little button boots,

and you followed me
down the lane.

They...

They fell off a cliff,
didn't they?

Or something of that kind.

Something of that kind,
Nanny, yes.

Nanny?

Ah, Mrs. Buckle,
she's fast asleep.

Perhaps you could...

She likes her nap.

- Leave her to me.
- Thank you.

Ma'am, was you asking about
the General and his wife?

Yes, did you know them?

Used to char for them, I did.

But my day was a Tuesday,
so I weren't...

Do you mind if I ask you
something rather direct?

I've had a very long day.

Do you think it
was a suicide pact?

Nah, not them.

They were happy.

She was a bonny woman.

Always beautifully turned out.

I believe she'd taken
to wearing a wig?

Oh, yes, she had several wigs.

- Several?
- Four.

Proper expensive.

One was auburn, and one had
little grey curls.

She used to send them
to a place up in London

to get them re-dressed...
Eugene and something.

- Was she in poor health?
- She was.

No, I don't know what
was wrong with her,

but she had to have
an operation.

She went up to Harley Street,
and she come back better.

And the General?

Oh, he had a bit
of heart trouble,

but he took the pills and that,
and he was fine.

He enjoyed it when

the sister came to visit.

Sister?
Whose sister?

Lady Ravenscroft's.

I didn't know she had a sister.

Sir, I appreciate this
is a time of loss, but, um...

you say Professor Willoughby
was retired?

Well, I said semi-retired.

Did he come to
the Institute every day?

Oh, my father kept
to his own timetable,

which was, I concede,
erratic.

He'd work all night and sleep
all day, if it suited him.

Was he married?

My mother passed away
some years ago.

Never remarried?

Some gentlemen do.

No.

No, he did not remarry.

So does the Willoughby Institute
pass to you, now, sir?

Not at all...
no, it's run by a trust.

I'm a trustee, that's all.

Are you aware of any...

resentment,

any animosity, professional
or otherwise,

which your father might
have incurred?

My father was very
highly respected.

And it was last night
that you told to me

that it was many years since
your father

abandoned his experiments
with hydrotherapy.

Yes, that's right.

And this is not a technique

that you yourself employ?

No, no, no.

No, I talk to my patients.

I prescribe appropriate
medication.

Look, the hydro room

has been in disuse

for just about as long
as I can remember.

And yet the murderer
knew how to use it.

Yeah.

So it would seem.

I think you know how to use it,
too, don't you, sir?

I thought you might
need some tea.

Thank you, Jacqueline.

Mrs. Willoughby, your house
is charming.

Thank you.

I understand you also
keep a small apartment

at the Institute?

That's not mine,
that's his.

I've barely been in it.

Sugar?

It must have been someone
quite strong,

or more than one person,
to have manipulated

the Professor
into the contraption.

Either that,

or he has got into
it voluntarily.

Why on earth would he do so?

Sais pas.

But it seems as though

someone has given him back
a soupçon

of his own medicine.

Medicine he hadn't used
for nigh on 20 years.

Think it's a patient
with a grievance?

Peut-être.

Celia, darling,
we're rehearsing.

We need to talk.

Well, I've only got this room
booked for an hour.

Can you come back?

Hello!

Inspector Beale, isn't it?

Good evening,
Mrs. Oliver.

Are you well?

I'm absolutely jiggered.

I've spent all day driving
round Sussex,

chasing elephants.

Right.

Well, good luck!

No, no, you must think me
a complete ninny.

I don't mean real elephants!
I mean people elephants!

I'm trying to find out if anyone
can recall anything

of the Ravenscroft case.

Eastbourne...
the couple on the cliff tops?

That was a curly one,
wasn't it?

And it still is.

I know the officer
on the case.

Bill Garroway...

retired now.

May I have his number?

Yeah, I should have it
here somewhere.

Celia?

Desmond?

Desmond!

Chap, are you all right?!

Oh, good strong
black coffee...

just what I need.

These are all the people
I interviewed.

I wrote down everything
that seemed pertinent,

but it's such a muddle!

The principal suggestions
are these...

that General Ravenscroft was
writing his memoir

of his India days

and that he was smitten with
the young woman

who acted as his secretary.

The result being that
he shot his wife

because he hoped to marry
the girl...

But then was horror-stricken
by what he'd done...

and shot himself.

Or...

Margaret discovered
the affair...

and then shot him...

And then herself.

Oh!

And Margaret had been ill...

possibly cancer.

It appears her hair
had fallen out,

because she had several wigs.

It says here...

she had four wigs.

Four.

What do you think, Madame?
Do you think it seems excessive?

Well, I do really. You might
have one, and then an extra one,

for when you sent the other
to be dressed.

But...

why did she have four?

Ah.

I haven't got anywhere,
have I?

Eh, bien...

I think it will always
remain a mystery, Madame.

And now...

I must now set myself to
consider

the case of
Professor Willoughby.

I bid you good night.

I even went to see my old Nanny.

She knew the Ravenscrofts

in India.

She was sure

there was a mental case
in the family.

One of them... Nanny wasn't sure
which...

- was unstable.
- One of whom?

- One of the sisters.
- The sisters?

Margaret had a sister.

I'd never
heard of her before.

She wasn't
at Margaret's wedding.

That's odd in itself, isn't it?

Continuez de parler,
chère Madame.

Well, she was in
an asylum for years.

It seems possible that she'd
killed children,

even perhaps her own children.

And then
she'd had treatment

and then she'd been cured...

or paroled or released
at any rate.

She went out to Margaret
in India

where there
was another incident,

again connected with children...

which was hushed up.

But might that explain what's
worrying Mrs. Burton-Cox...

insanity in the family?

Non, non, non.

No, Madame, this is
conjecture merely.

What you discovered in Sussex

was merely the mirrors
and the smoke...

nothing real.

Non, Madame,
what is certain

is that they were a couple who
were devoted to each other

and lived together happily.

So why...

on the evening
of the most beautiful day,

should they take a walk together
along the cliffs,

taking with them
a revolver and a dog.

What's the dog
got to do with it?

Je ne sais pas.

But all of your elephants,
they mention a dog.

Why, yes.

So tell to me something
that was said.

Well, one of
the elephants said

that the dog was devoted

to Lady Ravenscroft.

- Another said it bit her.
- Ah.

Non, non.

It is nothing.

Merely an elephant
remembering a dog.

I can help you no further,
Madame.

Pardonnez-moi.

My name is
Desmond Burton-Cox.

Ah, yes, I have heard of the
inquiries of your mother.

Monsieur, if you could
please be brief?

As you can see, I am very busy.

My mother had no right
pestering

Mrs. Oliver like that.

It's no concern of hers
whether I marry Celia

- or whether I don't!
- Mothers are always concerned.

She's not really my mother,
I'm adopted.

Ah.

Why are you here, Monsieur?

Someone attacked me at
the music school

this evening.

- And you don't know who it was?
- No, I don't, but...

well, the point is,
my mother's a little unhinged.

I fear she may have
put someone up to it.

Why should she wish to do that?

When I was a child...

let's just say she did some
terrible things.

Now she wants to stop me
getting married.

She's been trying to scare Celia
with awful rumors...

How long have you known
Mademoiselle Celia, Monsieur?

All my life.

My people were in India,
like hers.

I was boarded for the holidays

in Suffolk
and we played together.

But why should your mother wish
to stop you getting married?

Because she's mean, possessive.

If you go against her,
she's vindictive.

When I was 15, she took me
to a psychiatrist.

Pourquoi?

I formed an attachment
to someone,

and I wouldn't give it up.

My mother was livid

and marched me off
to Dr. Willoughby.

Please to sit?

Darling...

What the goddamn hell
have you been saying?

My wife wouldn't...

I thought you had her
under control!

And who saw you
that evening?

I can't remember.

I don't know if anyone saw me.

I might have gone
for a walk.

I can't remember.

What was your father working on?

Did he have a...

a special line of inquiry?

Behavior patterns in twins.

Genetic characteristics,

similar and dissimilar
environments,

blood types, pathologies.

What else would
you like to know?

The name of someone who can
vouch for your whereabouts

the night of the murder, Doctor.

Otherwise, you're on a bit of
a sticky wicket, aren't you?

Hey.

Got a minute?

Pardon?

May I exchange a word or two,
Detective Inspector,

if you would be so kind?

Inspector Garroway,

if you please to tell us
everything that you know.

The Ravenscrofts married
in 1913.

She was a well-born girl,

originally from Kent.

She had a sister, Dorothea,

who married a Captain Jarrow.

They were blighted
by misfortune, though.

Dorothea's husband died
in the war,

leaving her with two children.

The youngest, a boy,

fell into a pond and drowned.

At first, they said his older
sister was to blame.

But then, it turned out,

there was another story.

One of the neighbors

said the mother herself
had done it...

got angry with the boy,

pushed him in the pond,
held him under.

She breaks down under
questioning...

I mean...

she went raving mad,
had to be hospitalized.

She spends years in treatment,

and then for some reason,
they pronounce her cured,

and she returns to live
with the family.

So, Mr. Garroway,

was she staying with
the Ravenscrofts

when they were shot?

No.

- Are you sure?
- Yes.

She died three weeks before.

She takes a lot
of tranquillizers,

and she sleepwalks.

One night, she leaves the house,

wanders along the cliff edge,

loses her footing,
and over she goes.

They don't find her till
the next morning.

Lady Ravenscroft
took it very bad.

Had a bit of a breakdown
herself.

She spends a fortnight
in a sanatorium,

and then she comes back,
apparently better.

Three days later, she's dead.

No one has the first idea
of a motive, then or now.

The General has a good record,

the wife is well-liked.

They play piquet in
the evening, go for walks.

No money worries.

A bit of poor health,
you know...

but time of life.

Were there fingerprints
on the weapon?

Clear prints from both of them.

But no suggestion as to

who fired it last.

Could it be
a third party?

They would have had to have
gotten bloody close.

No, it all points
to a suicide pact, and yet...

No, with a suicide,
they leave the notes.

Ah, exactly!

Well, could someone
have stolen the note?

Who else was in the house
on that day?

Let's see.

There was a...

Betsy Whittaker...
cook/housekeeper...

been with them since
the dawn of time.

Didn't see too clearly,
nor hear too clearly, either.

There was a visitor staying...

a Zelie Rouxelle.

Foreign... don't think
she understood much.

And the gardener.

His alibi stood up.

That's it.

You have interviewed
Betsy Whittaker?

She was more concerned
about the dog.

Et encore le chien!

What do you think happened,
Superintendent?

I think...

old sins
have long shadows.

That's what my mother
used to say.

Oui.

Madame, do we have the name
of the supplier of the wigs?

Why are you suddenly interested?

You didn't care
tuppence before.

Yes, I have got that.

It's...

Eugene and Rosentelle,
formerly of Bond Street,

now in Tooting Bec.

Good afternoon.

Have you an appointment?

No, I'm afraid I haven't.

You're in luck.

Monsieur Eugene can do you
in 10 minutes.

Is it a permanent today?

No, no, that sounds horrible!

I don't think it could be much
worse than it already is,

do you, Madame?

Let us take off the split ends,
at least?

No, thank you, I would simply
like to ask you some questions

about Eugene and Rosentelle,
of Bond Street.

Hairpieces to the gentry.

Ah, the old days.

Bond Street, Bert?

Remember?

That was the life.

Oh, but Tooting
seems most pleasant.

What does Madame want?

I would like to ask you about
a former client.

I want to know about some wigs.

I'm terribly sorry,
we do not do wigs no more.

They were for a friend of mine,

a person I went to school
with...

Lady Ravenscroft.

You was at school
with Lady Ravenscroft?

- Yes, yes, I was.
- Where do you live now,

Buckingham Palace?

Mayfair.

How may we be of assistance,

your Ladyship?

Perhaps you remember the tragedy
at Eastbourne 13 years ago?

Well, I'm looking into it
on behalf of their daughter,

the Honorable
Celia Ravenscroft.

Oh, Lady Ravenscroft.

Yes.

She was so nice...
and good-looking, too.

I remember reading about it
in the paper.

She had four wigs,
didn't she?

Do people often have four?

Most people have two.

Lady Ravenscroft
had two to begin with,

then she ordered extra.

Did she come to Bond Street
to collect them?

No, I think...

I think it was a young lady,

a French lady, come up

and give us all the sizes
and colors and styles.

There was one with a pretty
gray streak in it...

for parties...

and one with strawberry blonde
curls, I recall...

one of Bert's finest.

I remember thinking,

when I read about the business,

"That's bleeding odd.

It's only three weeks ago
she's bought new wigs,

and now she's gone
and shot herself."

Imagine!

Ah!

Oh.

Mademoiselle Ravenscroft?

Hercule Poirot.
I assist...

Sorry, who? I thought
Mrs. Oliver was meeting me here?

Ah. I see Madame Oliver,
she's been rather vague

with her invitation.

No, it is I that you are
meeting, Mademoiselle.

Please to permit...

I am a private detective,

and I assist Madame Oliver with
her inquiries on your behalf.

Please to sit, Mademoiselle.

Thank you.

Mademoiselle...

Monsieur Desmond Burton-Cox,
he has been to see me.

Oh, I thought he was rehearsing
all day.

He has a concert tomorrow
at Beverly Hall.

It's quite important.

What's he doing talking to you?

No, it was last night

that he has came
to see me, Mademoiselle.

He cares for you most deeply.

Mademoiselle, may I ask
a question

that is personal?

Look, I don't know who you are,

so I...

Do you wish to marry
Desmond Burton-Cox?

Yes, I do...
satisfied?

Then nothing should prevent it.

If you are in love with
Monsieur Desmond Burton-Cox,

then that is all that matters.

The rest of your life

with Monsieur Desmond Burton-Cox
is all you should

be concerned with,
n'est-ce pas?

Is he well provided for,
financially?

Excuse me,
that's damned rude!

Pardon.

He has a rather pitiful
allowance.

But I have my own means,
you know, I work for a living!

Oui, bien sûr.

This allowance,
Mademoiselle,

it is something that
his mother could withhold?

What, do you mean

she'd cut off the money
if he marries me?

I hadn't thought of that.

Do you know who
is his natural mother?

No, no, I don't.

- Does he?
- I don't think so.

But he doesn't worry about it.

He's not the worrying kind.

But you are, Mademoiselle,
mais oui?

You are.

Tell to me if you please,

Madame Burton-Cox,

was she friendly with your
late mother and father?

Did you ever meet her
as a child?

Can you remember?

No, I don't think I did.

I know she was out in India,
and my people were, too,

but I was at school...

or holiday in Suffolk.

In fact, that's where
I met Desmond.

In the care of a French girl,
je pense?

Yes!
Yes, Zelie.

- Oui.
- Lovely Zelie.

Look, whoever you are,

if I'm going to marry Desmond,

and live with him forever,

I need to know the truth.

I don't want dark secrets
in our lives.

I want the truth.

But the truth, Mademoiselle...

she can be cruel.

Hercule Poirot speaks.

Poirot, it's Inspector Beale.

I have the information
you asked for.

Excellent.

Desmond Burton-Cox's natural
mother was an actress.

She moved to California,

where she found considerable
success in moving pictures,

under the name
Katy Lestrange.

18 months ago,
Katy Lestrange died

of a barbiturate overdose
in Pasadena.

She left her entire fortune...

several million dollars...
to her son, Desmond,

in a trust...
he gets it when he's 25.

And who administers this trust?

Who did you think?
Mrs. Burton-Cox.

Can you get for me
the deed of covenant?

I'll give it a go.

Oh, and, Poirot,

can you come over to
the Willoughby Institute?

There's been
something of a turn-up.

Oui, tout de suite.

Miss MacDermott,

will you come in now, please?

Repeat to Mr. Poirot
what you said earlier.

Asseyez-vous, Mademoiselle.

On the night of the murder...

Dr. Willoughby was with me...

here, in his flat...

in bed.

He's a decent man.

He's trying to save
my reputation.

But I can't stand by

and see him swing for something
he didn't do.

And he was with you
all of the night?

Till dawn.

And we slept a little.

Then I went home,

had a bath, and...

came back to work again.

It must have been at that time

that the night watchman
raised the alarm.

David...

Dr. Willoughby...

elected to keep his mouth shut,
for my sake.

But he's a fool!

It is a brave thing
that you do, ma petite.

Hell, my reputation
was shot in the States...

it might as well be
shot here, too.

I have a question,
si vous permettez?

It was last summer that you
arrived in England?

Yes.

Six months ago...
on the SS France.

So you were still living in
Boston in March of this year?

Yes.

Can you remember what you were
doing on the 17th?

The 17th of March?

Oui.

How am I expected
to remember that?

So you do not recall this day?

No...

I don't.

No idea.

Bon.

Do you know a Mademoiselle
Celia Ravenscroft?

Never heard of her.

Who is she?

No, it is of no consequence.

Detective Inspector,

may I have
the use of your car?

Merci.

I'm not exactly proud
of myself, Poirot.

Things are pretty awkward
around here.

Somehow Jacqueline seems to
have found out

about the whole
wretched business.

You asked her to
perjure herself in court,

and she would not?

I'm afraid that is correct.

Now Mademoiselle
Marie MacDermott,

she provides you
with the alibi,

and you are no longer
the suspect.

She said something about
the dictates

of her conscience.

She's quite religious, you know.

She is Catholic?

Irish background, I believe.

Nice girl.

Tell me, mon ami, about
the patients of your father.

Do you recall
a Dorothea Jarrow?

Why, of course!

We treated her
for quite a long time.

My father took
a special interest.

Merci.

She's dead, now, isn't she?

Oui, d'accord...

What can you tell to me
about her treatment?

Well, Mrs. Jarrow was
considered

to be one of my
father's triumphs... at first.

Her husband had died
on the Western front,

and that left her
rather fragile, I'm afraid.

So she was disturbed mentally?

No, no, at this point,

she was not thought to be.

But her GP had called
in my father

because she didn't seem to be

getting over her bereavement
in the normal way...

whatever that may be.

To my father's eyes,

Dorothea's condition presented
very decided dangers.

She was prone to mood swings
and acts of violence.

He thought she should be kept
under observation,

and he was proved right...

because then the first
incident happened.

A boy, he has drowned?

Yes, how did you know?

According to Mrs. Jarrow,

her elder child, a girl,
had attacked the younger,

her little boy.

She said she hit him
with a spade,

and he fell into an ornamental
pond and drowned.

At first, Mrs. Jarrow's
version was believed,

and then other stories
started to emerge.

A housemaid, a telegraph boy...

both said they saw Mrs. Jarrow

push her son into the water
and hold him under.

Now, the court ruled
that Mrs. Jarrow

should be committed to secure
psychiatric care,

and she was.

But you see, my poor late father

subscribed to a new school
of treatment,

which held that once certain
rehabilitation targets

had been reached...

targets attainable by
hydro-therapy

and electroshock...

the patient could resume
a normal life.

And this treatment of
hydro-therapy,

it was administered to Dorothea?

Yes.

And in due course...
two or three years...

home she went.

She was considered
to be completely recovered.

Shortly afterwards,

she went to India,
stayed with her twin sister.

It was in Amritsar that...

Excuse me, mon ami...
did you say her twin sister?

Yes.

They were twins?

Why, yes.

Madame Jarrow
and Lady Ravenscroft.

Margaret and Dorothea
were twins?

Why has no person
told to me this?

But this was my father's special
area of research...

- I thought you knew?
- No.

He was an authority on twins.

So perhaps Margaret suffered

from the same malady
as Dorothea?

No, no, no, she was
perfectly sane,

and devoted to looking after

her unfortunate sibling.

You see General Ravenscroft
had, throughout,

paid for his sister-in-law

to receive the best treatment
in England.

He was on good terms
with my father.

When they returned from India,

they often had Dorothea
to stay.

Why was he so kind to her?

Well...

I think I can tell you that.

When he was a young subaltern,

Dorothea was considered
a fabulously beautiful woman.

Alistair Ravenscroft
fell in love with her.

And then, I think,
he caught a glimpse...

saw behind the eyes,
the danger zone.

And so...

he proposed to Margaret instead.

He marries the sister, but he's
in love with them both.

The devil!

Poirot, he owes to you
an apology, Madame.

He is imbécile!

I see now that the two cases
are connected.

There is a point of convergence
which links them.

Oh, what is that?

The Willoughby Institute.

Morning.

Oh, Poirot...

I forgot you'd be here.

- One word if I may, Doctor.
- Please.

Mademoiselle.

In you files, mon ami,

there are many histories
that are very absorbing.

But you know there is a patient
that is missing.

And I ask about a boy

who has 15 years of age...

a certain Desmond Burton-Cox.

Where is his case file?

Uh...

There is no case file, Poirot.

No, but the boy, he has been
brought to you many times.

Yes, he was,
but I saw him unofficially.

I took no payment.

And so there is no file.

You took no payment?

Well, not in the usual way.

I'm sorry,
I do not understand.

She had no money, Poirot!

Look...

self-control is not one
of my stronger qualities.

I just have to live with it.

I see.

But I only ask about
the boy, Desmond.

What was he like?

Remarkable power of recall.

The smallest details
of his childhood

were easy to surface,

but lacking in self-confidence.

And I believe that he had
an interest

that was almost obsessional...

in, I do not know who,

a woman or an older man?

A French woman,
I believe.

Zazie or Suzie?

She was 25 or so,
at the time, and he 15.

They were in love.

Would you say he was in love?

I would say so, yes...

not that I know very much
about that particular emotion.

I've spoken to
my goddaughter, Celia.

Have you? Oh, good!

What did she say?

First, there is someone
I wish you to meet.

Mrs. Burton-Cox,
this is Monsieur Poirot.

Monsieur Poirot is my assistant.

Enchanté, Madame.

Is he French?

I can't stand the French.

No, Madame,
I am Belgium.

You have some concerns

about the marriage
of your son Desmond

with
Mademoiselle Celia Ravenscroft?

That is so.

Young people today...

they rush into things...

but it's important to know
the background,

don't you think?

The psychological background.

Well, there are certain risks

that one might not wish to take.

But the persons
taking these risks

are Celia and Desmond,

not you, Madame.

I beg your pardon?

Desmond, he is not your son
by birth.

What has that got
to do with anything?

And when he was young, did you
take care of him personally?

Well, of course I did.

- Mrs. Oliver, please...
- You must have had some help.

Help, why should I need help?
I'm his mother.

Perhaps in the holidays?

Oh, well, yes, of course
in the holidays,

he went to stay

- with some people in Suffolk.
- Oui.

And in Suffolk, he was
in the care of a French girl?

Zelie... Zelie Rouxelle?

I've had quite enough of this.

Goodbye.

What occurred between

Desmond and Zelie Rouxelle,
Madame?

Do either of you

have the faintest idea
what it's like

when your own child
takes one look at you

and starts to scream?

And after a few months with that
beloved nanny,

I could do nothing with him!

She's a... she's a devious
little baggage,

and I made jolly sure

to intercept her letters,
later on.

He's my son, and I will say what
happens to him!

Ladies and Gentlemen,

five minutes till the start
of the recital.

- Mademoiselle Celia!
- Poirot!

Mademoiselle, did you know...

and please do forgive me, but,

how is was that
Aunt Dorothea died.

Yes, yes, I do.

And your cousins?

The little girl
and the little...

boy who was drowned?

We tended not to speak
of them.

But perhaps they were also
looked after during the holidays

by your au pair, Zelie?

Oh, no, no, no.

Zelie just had me and Desmond.

She returned

to assist your
mother at the end, yeah?

And also she takes dictations
from your late father,

- does she not?
- Yes.

So, Mademoiselle, what was the
involvement of your late father

with the Willoughby Institute?

What is
the Willoughby Institute?

It is where your Aunt Dorothea,
she was treated.

No, I don't know anything
at all.

I see.

Uh, Mademoiselle,

please to think now
very carefully,

is it possible that there was
anyone else staying

at Overcliffe at the time
of the deaths of your parents?

Anyone perhaps whom the police
did not know about?

I don't know how,
because if there had been,

Zelie would have mentioned it,
wouldn't she?

Oui.

Have you remained in contact
with Zelie?

Oh, yes, I wrote to her
countless times,

but all my letters were sent
back, she simply disappeared.

I'd have loved to have seen her,
she was a marvelous character.

And, Desmond,
does he write to her?

Well, how could he?

- We don't know where she lives.
- Ah.

And you yourself, Mademoiselle,

have you ever returned
to Overcliffe?

No.

Why?

Why do you think I should?

Drive out my demons,

that sort of thing?

Ladies and Gentlemen,
please take your seats.

Oh, dear.

- Madame Oliver.
- I'm so sorry.

It's just that they're in
and seated.

I am so sorry.

- Is Celia there?
- Yes, she's here.

Oh, good, that's very good.

Non, non, non, Monsieur!

Merci.

The key, it is Zelie.

Of this, I am sure.

Yes, but how do we find her?

Miss Ravenscroft,

Good of you to come.

Look at all those
diamonds.

He's playing without music!

Clever chap!

There was a foreign girl.

She'd been my governess
when I was young.

She'd come back to help mummy,
who'd been unwell.

I had formed
an attachment to someone,

and I wouldn't give it up.

After a few months
with his beloved nanny,

I could do nothing with him!

We don't know where
she lives.

But all my letters
were sent back.

She simply disappeared.

Very good.

How long
is the interval?

That is it!

That is it!

How could I be so stupid?!

Are you enjoying it,
Ariadne?

There's a flute sonata
in the second half.

Please, do forgive
the intrusion, Monsieur.

Poirot! Yeah, I really can't
talk to you now.

We're about to go on
for the second half.

Non.
It will not be possible for you

to play the remainder
of this concert...

unless you give to me
the address

of Mademoiselle Zelie Rouxelle.

What are you talking about?
I don't know it!

Yes, you do know it.

Well, I can't remember it!

Look, we have to go on!

Monsieur, you play Bach
from memory,

you have the memory
of an elephant!

I demand to know the address

of Mademoiselle Zelie Rouxelle,
tout de suite!

Mr. Burton-Cox!

It's time, gentlemen!

Merci, Monsieur.

Taxi!

- Sacre!
- Mr. Poirot?

It's Bill Garroway.

Ah, Superintendent.

This here is Sprat.

The wife named him that,
then she died.

I'm stuck with it.

Oh, Inspector Beale told me
you'd be here,

asked me to deliver this.

He's been called out on a case.

Merci. I am so sorry you have
been put to some much trouble.

Oh, it's no trouble at all, sir.

I'll bid you good night.

Come on, Sprat.

Superintendent...

tell to me about Sprat.

Does he bite?

He bites his own backside,
mainly...

not exactly clever.

And please to recollect,

the dog that lived with General
and Lady Ravenscroft,

did it bite?

Well, it's a funny thing
you mention that, sir.

The housekeeper said the dog
had turned on its mistress

a couple of days before.

And sure enough, when we did
the autopsy on Lady Ravenscroft,

there's a couple
of dog bite marks,

maybe a week or two old.

So that dog, it was clever, eh?

Merci...

Oh, taxi!

Oh, where are you off to
in such a hurry?

Paris!

Whitehaven Mansions,

and then Victoria Station,

for the boat train,
avec vitesse!

Right you are, guv'nor!

I will be with you in one
moment, Monsieur.

Merci.

It was a pleasure.

Au revoir.

Hercule Poirot.

Do I have the honor to address

Mademoiselle Zelie Rouxelle?

As I said to you in my telegram,

I wish to ask about the General
and Lady Ravenscroft.

I believe that you were
employed by them?

Yes.

I was an au pair...

for Celia.

You knew also the boy Desmond...

Desmond Burton-Cox?

Yes, we still correspond.

But you do so in secret,
I think?

His mother disapproves.

There is nothing of which
to disapprove.

We are friends.

He and Celia intend to marry.

He has told me.

I am pleased for them.

But difficulties are being
put in their way.

Mademoiselle Celia
has been asked

to tell to the Desmond family

exactly what happened
at Overcliffe...

it is now since 13 years.

But she cannot do that...

for she does not know.

It was thought advisable
to tell her nothing.

She accepted it.

She was too young to understand.

She is now old enough now
to understand.

But what is there
to understand, Monsieur?

It was a double suicide.

And you have found no reason
to doubt that?

The police found no reason
to doubt it.

So there is nothing more

you can tell to me,
Mademoiselle Rouxelle?

I fear I cannot.

It was a very long time ago.

For how long were you living
at Overcliffe

before their deaths?

For two months.

And the sister of
Lady Ravenscroft,

Dorothea Jarrow,

she was also living there
at this time,

was she not?

How much do you know?

It has to end.
You understand that.

Yeah.

It always ends.

I'm so sorry, my darling.

Guys like you
are always sorry.

But guess what?

I'll be okay.

May I help you?

Yes, thank you.

I wonder if you can.

I wanted to see if there's
anything in your files

pertaining to the treatment
of a Mrs. Dorothea Jarrow?

Could I ask what business
this is of yours?

She was my aunt.

I'm Celia Ravenscroft.

I think something funny's
going on.

Sure.

Okay.

Why don't we take a look?

Dorothea Jarrow had been
treated for the mental illness,

but had shown some improvement,
n'est-ce pas?

Yes.

And it was thought
beneficial for her

to spend some time
in a normal family home.

And Dorothea and Margaret,
they were fond of each other?

There was a bond between them,

a bond of dependence and love.

And in many ways,
they were alike.

Pardon.

But in twins,

although there is this bond
of love,

if something should
occur to break it,

then it is shattered forever.

Oh, yes, I know.

And love, it may easily
turn to hate.

And it is easier to hate where
you have once loved

than to remain indifferent.

Do you speak from experience?

Tell to me about
Dorothea Jarrow.

She lived in a state of
terrible strain.

She had had some
advanced therapy,

but it seemed
not to do much good.

She was never happy.

And she had a great
aversion to children.

Ah, oui.
And that led to incidents

most serious, n'est ce pas...

I heard what happened
in her early life,

I heard what happened in India.

Oh, I have no firsthand
knowledge of that.

No, but there
are events of which

you do have firsthand knowledge,

are there not?

Isn't it better to leave things,

when at least they
have been accepted?

Mademoiselle, what happened
on that day at Overcliffe,

it could have been
a double suicide,

it could have been a murder,
it could have been...

one of a number of
possibilities.

But from what
you have just said,

from that one little sentence...

I consider that you know what
happened on that day...

and you know what happened
in the weeks before.

I cannot tell you anything.

I'm sorry.

Was there someone else
at Overcliffe,

someone of whom the police
know nothing?

No.

I think that you lie.

The General Ravenscroft

was at first in love
with Dorothea.

Then his affections,
they change,

and he marries her
twin sister Margaret.

Mademoiselle, what do you
suppose that

that has done to Dorothea?

I suppose that it has destroyed
her, Monsieur.

Ah.

And the General,
he has realized?

Yes.

He knew.

He had a good heart.

And you were also in love
with him,

I think.

You may not speak to me
like that.

No, no, no, Mademoiselle,

I do not say that you
had a love affair.

I say only that you loved him.

One can love and serve
and still be happy...

even if one is not loved
in return.

But you did serve him,
Mademoiselle.

You served him loyally
in the great crisis of his life.

Mademoiselle, tell to me
what happened.

I know that you know.

You pretended to the police that
you had only little English

and then you left Overcliffe
at once.

But you were there.

And I need you to tell me
who else was in the house.

Why should I tell you anything?

My life ended that day.

It was as if I had been shot!

I have hidden myself away

here in a backstreet in Paris.

Look at me!

I've had no life at all.

Why must I speak now?

Because you have a heart,
Zelie!

And because Celia and Desmond,

they need to know.

Mademoiselle, neither you...

nor I are married.

We never may be married.

But they should be!

I do hope you had
a nice time in Paris.

I've been to
the shipping office.

Here are the records you wanted.

Merci, Madame.

Bon.

And, Poirot, he also has
a document for you.

This is the deed of covenant

for the legacy left to Desmond
by his natural mother.

The trust, it is to be
administered

by Madame Burton-Cox

and her solicitor,
as trustees...

until...

until he reaches the age of 25,

or until he marries,

whichever is the earlier.

So if he marries Celia,

he'll come into a fortune.

Oui.

But how does this fit in
with Mrs. Burton-Cox

wanting to find about the deaths
of the Ravenscrofts?

Madame Burton-Cox,
she has no concern

with the deaths
of the Ravenscroft's!

Non, her sole concern

is to prevent the marriage!

Why?

Because she's...

Because she is stealing
the money of Desmond

and thinks she has time to pay
it back before he has noticed!

So if he marries
Celia now...

Fin de partie!

I say, excuse me.

I've lost Celia...
I'm worried!

She... she said something about

going to Eastbourne...
exorcising ghosts

or some such nonsense.

This was after she came back
from the Willoughby Institute.

No, no, no. She has been to
the Willoughby Institute?

- Yes.
- And now she has gone

to Eastbourne?

She is in danger.
We must hurry!

Vite!

Hello?

Excuse me.

Excuse me...

What are you doing here?

Why are you...

Up here, sir!

It's Miss Ravenscroft!

Come on, it's all right.

We've got you.

You are under arrest.

It's all right.

That's it, all safe.

All safe.

Monsieur, Mademoiselle.

The question to be put,
it is this...

was the deaths of
the Ravenscrofts suicide,

or was it murder?

Because one or the other
must be true.

But, Poirot, he says to you

that both are true,

and I fear, Mademoiselle Celia,
it is a tragedy

of two people
who loved each other,

and who died for love.

And it will be hard
for you to hear.

I'm ready.

Bon.

When Madame Oliver
set out on a visit

to her old acquaintances,

Poirot, at first,
seemed to take no notice.

Alors, he had another case,
which seemed to him

infinitely more important.

And for that, I apologize
to you, Madame.

For what you found out
in your visits into Sussex,

it was vital for the solving
of both mysteries.

You know who killed
Professor Willoughby?

Oh, I have my little theory.

But we shall see.

When I learned
that everything,

it was pointing to
the Willoughby Institute,

I looked at the evidence in
the notebooks of Madame Oliver,

at these recollections...

at these...

elephants...

and, at first, they seem
to have no value.

But everything has a value.

Everyone remembers something.

And so I take from one
informant, one detail,

from another, another.

And so we have, first of all,
the evidence of the wigs.

Wigs?

Oui.

We learned that
Lady Ravenscroft,

she had four wigs... four!

Now, this for Poirot
was a puzzle, eh?

Thank you, Zelie.

We know that
on the day that she died,

Lady Ravenscroft
was wearing the wig

with the curls of the color
of the strawberry blonde.

Why is that significant?

- She could've worn any of them.
- Vraiment, Mademoiselle,

but you see we also have
the evidence of the dog.

Dog? What dog?

No, no, no, please,
Mademoiselle Celia, be patient.

This dog, it is devoted
to its mistress.

But in the last few weeks
of her life,

this dog has bitten her
more than once.

You mean the dog knew

she would commit suicide?

No, no, no.

It is much more simple
than that.

This dog, it knew
what no one else knew.

It knew she was not
his mistress.

She looked like
its mistress

in the clothes of Margaret,

in the wig of Margaret.

But a dog only recognizes
what his nose tells to him,

and this dog recognized

that this was not his mistress.

So who could it be, this woman?

Could it be her
twin sister... Dorothea?

But that's impossible...
she was dead!

But now I come to something else

that was brought to my
attention by Madame Oliver...

the knowledge that
Lady Ravenscroft

had recently been in a hospital
or a nursing home.

It is believed that she suffered
from cancer...

this I learned from the evidence
of Julia Carstairs

in your notebook, Madame...

and so her visits to hospital
pass unremarked.

I don't think Julia Carstairs
knew what she was talking about.

But it does not matter, Madame,

because the General
Alistair Ravenscroft,

once he rejects Dorothea
and marries her sister,

Dorothea, she becomes
very jealous,

and her life, as you say,

well...

it goes from the rails.

And we have reason to believe
that one... and possibly two...

children died at her hands.

And the General, having feelings
of guilt so terrible,

pays for her to have treatment

at the Willoughby Institute.

Are you saying, sir,
that the mad aunt

shot the Ravenscrofts?

No, Monsieur,
that is not my solution.

Madame Celia, I hope you
will not be

too dismayed by the truth.

It was Dorothea...

who killed your mother.

Often, they would go for a walk
together in the evenings.

But one evening,
she returned alone.

She must have run off.

She doesn't run off,
Dorothea, she's my wife!

What have you done with her?

I think that we should look.

You're right.

Where were you walking?

Where we always walk.

Something has happened
to Margaret.

Come on, Zelie.

Lady Ravenscroft,
where are you?!

Margaret!

Margaret!

Margaret!

Margaret!

Come on!

We'll take the cliff path!

Margaret!

Margaret!

Margaret, what happened?

Was it your sister?

It isn't her fault, Alistair.

Damn her!

What did she do?

She... she pushed me.

She doesn't know
what she's doing.

I know it's bad, Zelie.

I know I'll die.

No, I'll get a doctor!

Alistair, stay, there's
no time for a doctor.

Please don't let her suffer
for it.

Don't let them give her that
treatment again!

Promise me, Alistair.

Promise me you'll save her.

- Zelie?
- Yes?

Make him do as I ask.

I promise, Margaret.

I promise.

Thank you, my darling.

Thank you...

Oh.

Oh, Margaret.

Margaret!

Zelie wanted to
go for help,

but the General, he said,

"No, I made a promise.

I must keep it."

He decided what he would do,

and he asked Zelie to help him.

Forgive me,
my darling.

Forgive me.

Celia?

Are you all right?

It's better to know.

Go on.

Alors, they made a plan.

They agreed to say
that it was Dorothea

who walked in her sleep,

and fell to her death,
not Margaret.

They hid her in a cottage
in the Downs

for a week or 10 days.

The General Ravenscroft
put it about

that his wife had suffered
had a nervous collapse,

and was in a sanatorium,
recovering.

Zelie, she has gone up to London
and bought wigs to fit Dorothea

from Eugene and Rosentelle,
of Bond Street.

And then they brought her back.

Good morning,
Mrs. Whittaker.

Have we something
nice for lunch?

Yes, Madame.

Everyone accepted that
this was Lady Ravenscroft,

and thought she was
behaving oddly

because she was still
suffering from shock

at the death of her sister.

How could she
keep it up?

It must have been
dreadfully difficult.

No, Madame, it was not
difficult.

Because, at last, she had
achieved what she wanted...

she was married to
General Alistair Ravenscroft.

But how could my father bear it?

As I have said...

he made a plan.

Zelie, today is your
last day of work.

I'm sending you back to Paris.

You cannot do that!

I can, my dear,
and I will.

You have given sterling service,

but I do not want you mixed up
in this... not anymore.

Enough is enough.

There, there.

There.

Zelie, come on.

Stop here.

Hold this.

Why?

Because I want to kiss you.

Goodbye, Dorothea.

Where are you going?

Hell, I expect.

This is for Margaret.

And this is for me.

He had to keep his
promise to his wife,

and he did.

I am so sorry,
Mademoiselle Celia.

Bring her in.

Just who are you,

and why did you
try to kill me?

Please to take off her cap.

This is Mary Jarrow...

the daughter of your
Aunt Dorothea.

You're my cousin?

How'd you work it out, Poirot?

The Boston Irish, Mademoiselle,

they venerate
the 17th of March.

- St. Patrick's Day.
- Oui.

There is always the big parade.

Everyone knows what they were
doing on the 17th of March.

Also your accent, Mademoiselle.

If you are from Boston,
as you say that you are,

in the state of Massachusetts,

then you would pronounce

the last letter of
the alphabet "zee."

But, no,
you pronounce it "zed."

You are Canadian,
Mademoiselle.

And, Poirot, he has heard
this immediately.

Also, you say
that you arrived here

on the SS France,
but no,

Poirot, he has examined
the list of passengers,

and there is no

Marie MacDermott
on the France.

But there is a Mary Jarrow.

Your mother killed mine!

Celia, please!

And it is you,
Mademoiselle Jarrow,

who killed Professor Willoughby.

He deserved it.

Did you see
what they did to her?!

Those appalling machines!
No wonder she went crazy!

But how did you know?

She was long gone.

When I was at school,
she sent me letters.

I still got 'em.

She told me what
they did to her.

She knew I was too young
to understand.

But one day...

I would understand.

And one day,

I'd come back.

Why have you waited
so long?

I had no money!

I was just a poor secretary.

I had to earn enough
to get to England.

Where you take a job
at the Willoughby Institute.

To be honest...
it was too easy.

I knew the Professor came
in to work late at night.

So...

I crawl into David's bed.

And he likes a little sleep
after pleasure.

His little sleeps
turn into longer sleeps.

It was clever, that,

to pretend to provide

an alibi for
the Doctor Willoughby,

whereas, in fact,
you were providing

an alibi for yourself.

That is clever.

Cleverer than you think,
Madame.

For then she goes to Jacqueline,
the wife of Dr. Willoughby,

and confesses her affair,

so his wife will not provide
the alibi for her husband.

Meanwhile, she has
become friendly

with Professor Willoughby.

And no doubt you take
a great interest in his work?

I told him
I was writing a book.

I told him
the Willoughby Institute

was going to go down big
in the history of psychiatry.

And then you persuade
the professor

to show you the Hydro Room!

You hit him, you gag him,

and then you drown him.

Also, Mademoiselle...

I know that on the day

that your mother died,
you were here, at Overcliffe.

You don't know that, Poirot.

Mais oui, Mademoiselle.

Attendez.

Here is my proof.

- Oh.
- Zelie!

Zelie!

Oh, my children.

I was listening.

I have heard everything
that was said.

You know it is true, Mary.

You were here.

Your mother sent for you.

You arrived the day she died.

You do remember!

You arrived just in time
to hear this...

What are you going to do?

I am going
to shoot her...

and then I am going
to shoot myself.

Oh, no!

You know what?

I have this overpowering feeling
that that's against the law...

just shooting someone,

just killing them.

If I could have killed him
over again,

I would!

Was it you who tried
to strangle me?

All I wanted was to punish her,
ruin her.

Why should her life be happy?

Mine wasn't.

Mademoiselle Rouxelle?

As soon as I knew what
the General was about to do,

I took Mary away, very quickly.

I thought her life would be
intolerable if she stayed.

I sent her to relations
of mine in Montreal.

I told no one.

And I returned to Paris.

I swore I would
never speak of this.

I have broken my vow.

Forgive me, Mary.

No, Mademoiselle,

you have done the right thing.

Please to take her away.

Desmond!

Desmond, where are you?

Desmond?! If you're with that
girl, I'll skin you alive!

Ah, there you are!

Come home at once!

I hope you do not blame me,
Mademoiselle,

for asking for your help?

No, Monsieur,

I am glad.

Look.

Now they will have
their future.

You and I are elephants,
you know...

we're good at remembering.

No, no, no, Madame,
we are human beings.

And, human beings, mercifully,

they can forget.