All language subtitles for 0401 A Pocket Full of Rye

- Oh, Gladys.
- How do I look, Miss Marple?

- I so want to make an impression.
- I've no doubt you'll do that.

Chalet maid, imagine.

- Yes.
- And who knows where it might lead?

"A stepping stone to stardom."
I read that in a magazine.

You mustn't believe everything you read.

Now, you will be careful,
won't you, Gladys?

- Yes, miss.
- Especially of the young men.

Oh. Yes, miss.

You've been ever so good to me,
Miss Marple.

- Now, now.
- You have, really.

God bless.

Good morning,
Consolidated Investments Trust.

Oh, no!

What was it this time, Tilly?

The blue shepherdess, Miss Marple.

Oh, Tilly.

Your tea, Mr Fortescue.

You're a very, very bad boy.

Aren't I just?

I'm afraid that's quite impossible.

Mr Fortescue is in conference.

We could try him after luncheon.

Well good morning and thank you
for calling Consolidated Investments.

Do you really think they'll like me?

The old man certainly will.

- He's very impressed I hooked you.
- The aristocratic riff-raff.

Pinstripes and a bowler.

It's not really me, is it?

You'll look utterly adorable.

Oh, the thought of England.

Still, since the old man's come round,
we have to take advantage

and then the next time
we pass through Paris, it'll be the Ritz.

Strange, you know.

Even their dads always had it in for me.

I'm still quite fond of the old bastard.

Mr Fortescue?

- Are you poorly?
- What the hell did you put in the tea?

I didn't do it, Inspector.

I'm very pleased to hear that,
Miss Grosvenor.

Do you always make Mr Fortescue's tea?

Always, Inspector.

He has a special pot
and a special cup and saucer

and I'm the only person
allowed to handle them.

And are you the only person
allowed to handle the kettle as well?

No, but I refilled it myself
from the cloakroom tap.

And what about the tea itself,
Miss Grosvenor?

That's special too.

It's from China.

I understand this must be
terribly upsetting for you.

Thank you, Inspector.

Oh, dear.

He will be all right, won't he?

He's dead.

- When?
- Five minutes ago.

Poor chap never stood a chance.

Sergent Pickford's going
through his belongs now.

- Speaking unofficially...
- Poison?

Well, of course it was poison.

But between you and me
and strictly off the record,

I'd be prepared to bet
that it was taxine.

- Never heard of it.
- Quite. It's most unusual.

- You get it from yew berries.
- 'Yew berries?'

- From a yew tree.
- Oh, that's interesting.

- 'Is it?'
- The name of his house. Yewtree Lodge.

Well, that could explain it.
Easy to harvest and,

more importantly, easy to administer.

'Really? How?'

The poor fellow mentioned
something about his tea

but the stuff couldn't have worked
that fast.

Only a cyanide would do that.

In which case, he would have been dead
before the ambulance arrived.

So, tell me, Prof, how long
does taxine take to work?

An hour or two. Maybe three
if he'd had a big breakfast.

So if the taxine was administered
at breakfast,

that lets Miss Grosvenor
and the office staff off the hook.

- One thing that's odd, sir.
- What, Pickford?

The suit he was wearing.
I checked through his pockets

and one of them had cereal in it.

- Cereal?
- Yes, sir. It's a bit peculiar, isn't it?

- You mean like cornflakes?
- No, sir. I mean, like grain.

Rye, it looked like to me.

Blimey.

Inspector Neele. Sergeant Pickford.

I believe you're expecting us.

Inspector, Mary Dove, housekeeper.

Do come in.

Adele is Mr Fortescue's second wife.

Considerably younger than him.

- She was a manicurist from Brighton.
- And do they have children?

He has three from his first marriage.

Two sons and a daughter.

- And are they married?
- The sons, yes, not the daughter.

- I'll need to speak with all of them.
- They're not here.

Adele's playing golf. I'm not sure where.

Do you know who she's playing with?

Her personal instructor,
I should imagine.

A gentleman by the name
of Vivian Dubois.

- And the children?
- Percival's away on business.

He's the older son
and a partner in the firm.

When did he go away?

The day before yesterday.

I have tried to contact him but...

..I expect he'll be back
by this evening.

- He lives here with his wife Jennifer.
- Oh. Where's she?

Up in town for the day.

And Elaine, the daughter,
she's a vegetarian.

She'll probably have her nose
buried in some dusty, old tome.

- And what about the other son?
- Lancelot.

- He's in Kenya.
- Oh, I see.

With his wife, the widow of Lord Anstis.

Oh, the racing chappie.

That's right.
The one who blew his brains out.

Why's he in Kenya?

He moved there
after a disagreement with his father

some small matter
of a forged cheque, I gather.

He's lived there for years.

- And have you managed to contact him?
- I'm afraid I haven't.

- I'm not having much luck, am I?
- Sadly not, Inspector.

So, Mr Fortescue's death,
a case of food poisoning, was it?

Anything I've ever sent up
to that dining room

has been just as it should be.

I only want a few samples
from breakfast, Mrs Crump.

Yes I'll give you sample man

A bit of marmalade, some ham, coffee...

There's never been any bad food
served on my watch.

And as for the coffee,
we finished that off at elevenses.

I don't see none of us
dropping like flies.

You lot come round here
like you own the place.

..I take pride in my work,
not like some I could mention.

Crump! Get yourself back in here
this minute, you lazy article!

Apart from the Crumps,
there's Gladys.

Gladys? What does Gladys do?

She's the parlour maid
and very nearly half-witted.

So those are the only people
living in the house?

Yes.

You know, Inspector,
I wouldn't be at all surprised if Mr Fortescue

hadn't been planning some sort of
reconciliation with Lancelot.

What makes you think that?

Well, Percival, you see,

has always been very much
in his father's confidence

but recently they hadn't been
getting along so well.

His father had been doing things
that Percival,

ever prudent when it comes to money,
thought unwise.

You appear most well-informed,
Miss Dove.

Well, it's hardly a secret.

- Always the same, you stupid boy!
- Ridiculous.

Ridiculous! No imagination,
that's your problem.

We could lose thousands.

All the business acumen
of a chimpanzee!

- Father, listen...
- I wish Lance was here!

At least he's got guts!

Thank you, Miss Dove.
You've been most helpful.

Ooh, by the way,
can you give me any idea as to why

Mr Fortescue would be
carrying grain in his pocket?

- Grain, Inspector?
- That suggest anything to you?

Nothing at all, I'm afraid.

Oh, well.

I didn't do it, you know.

But then I suppose
everybody says that, don't they?

I didn't do it, sir. I didn't, really.

You are allowed to sit down, Gladys.

I don't know anything about it,
sir, honest.

How long
have you worked here, Gladys?

About four months, sir.

And before that?

I was a chalet maid
at Tooley's Holiday Camp.

- Tooley's Holiday Camp?
- Yes, sir, in Gravesend.

And how long were you
at Tooley's Holiday Camp?

- Not very long, sir.
- Not very long at all. Why was that?

- Well, it... it... it...
- Hm?

I suppose I didn't like it very much.

Sir, I suppose I'm more at home
in private service.

See, I used to work for a lovely old lady.

Miss Marple, her name was.

She was ever so good to me.

Then why did you leave?

I wanted a change.
I wanted to see the world.

In Gravesend?

Did you used to look
after Mr Fortescue's clothes, Gladys?

Well, it's supposed to be
Mr Crump's job

but half the time he makes me do it.

Have you ever found any grain
in his pockets?

How do you mean, sir?

Cereal, Gladys. Rye to be exact.

- Rye?
- Yes.

There was some found
in his jacket today.

Any idea how it might have got there?

I couldn't say, sir. I never saw any.

It's really true then, is it?

- He's really dead?
- Dead as a dodo, afraid.

Dead? Heavens above.

My husband's away on business.

These things happen
at the most inconvenient moments.

- His death was very sudden.
- You mean he was murdered?

Now why would you think that, madam?

Well, people are sometimes.

You said sudden and you're a policeman.
Have you seen her about it?

- Her, madam?
- His wife Adele. Awful creature.

I always told Percival his father
was crazy to go marrying a woman

years younger than himself, but

as they say, there's no fool
like an old fool

and now look what's happened.

What was it? Arsenic?

The cause of death has yet
to be ascertained.

But you know already, don't you?

Your tea is in the library,
Mrs Fortescue.

Thank you, Miss Dove.
I'm panting for a cuppa.

- Dead?
- I'm very sorry, Mrs Fortescue.

Poor Rex.

- Was it a stroke?
- No, it wasn't.

- Then what was it?
- I'm afraid he might have been poisoned.

- Poisoned?
- So it would seem.

Incredible.

We need to find out what
Mr Fortescue had to eat and drink

before leaving for the office
this morning.

Oh, you mean food poisoning?

What did you think I meant,
Mrs Fortescue?

But...the rest of us have been all right.

And you can speak
for the whole family, can you?

Of course I can't,
but this is such a dreadful shock.

- Would you like a brandy?
- No, I don't want a brandy.

I want my Rex. Poor Rexy.

- Poor little Rex.
- Sh. There now.

- There, there.
- I realise this must be very distressing.

Yes, it bleedin' well is.

You've got a lot of "yew"
round the house, haven't you,

Mrs Fortescue?

What? You mean me?

No, I mean yew, as in trees, bushes.

That's probably
why it's called Yewtree Lodge.

There's no possibility, I suppose,
of the berries or leaves getting

mixed up in anything?

I can't bear to talk about this
any longer. I want to lie down.

Just one more thing, Mrs Fortescue.

Can't you see she's upset?

There was a quantity of grain
in your husband's pocket.

Any idea why it was there?

I don't know what you're talking about.

- Oh, Vivian.
- I'll get Miss Dove to help you upstairs.

- Mr Dubois.
- What?

Where can I get in touch with you?

I'm resident at
the Baydon Heath Golf Hotel.

Now if you'll excuse us.

- Officious little twit.
- Oh, Vivian.

Thank you.

Yes, yes, I have it.

Goodbye.

It's a telegram from Paris.

For Rex Fortescue.

So, the prodigal returns.

- At last.
- Sorry.

Where on earth have you been?

I came home as quickly as I could.

Oh, Percival, please.

- What a day.
- Oh. You can say that again.

I feel quite under siege.

There are horrid constables
wherever one turns.

I suppose there would be,
wouldn't there?

It's too distressing.

Well, I'm sure you'll get over it.

I'm wanted downstairs.

Christ!

- Is it true?
- What?

That Father's dead.

Are you Elaine?

Ah. Right.

Well, then, yes, I'm afraid it is true.

Oh, no. Daddy.

Poor Daddy.

He was such a ghastly man...

..and his death
makes everything all right.

Now I can do
everything I ever wanted.

I must find Gerald.

- Poisoned?
- It would seem so, yes.

Well, have you any idea how...

..who might have...
- It's rather early days for that, sir.

Yes, I suppose so.

All the same, it will be
most helpful if you could give me

any idea of your father's
testamentary dispositions.

Yes, well...
My father made a new will

on the occasion of his marriage
two years ago

He left 100,000P to his wife
and 50,000P to my sister Elaine.

I am his residuary legatee and

am, of course,
already a partner in the firm.

And your brother received no bequest?

There is an estrangement of
long standing between him and my father.

So, as the will stands,

the three people who gain are
Mrs Fortescue, your sister and yourself?

Well, I don't think I'd be much
of a gainer with death duties

and...well, my father has,
of late, been...

How shall I put it? ..highly injudicious
in his financial dealings.

You haven't seen eye to eye
with him recently?

- Well, I put forth my point of view.
- Rather forcibly, I gather.

In fact, didn't you have
quite a row about it?

I'd hardly say that.

Can you tell me
what this means, Mr Fortescue?

A telegram from your brother

saying he's arriving tomorrow
at your father's invitation.

I don't understand.

- Didn't your father mention it?
- No, he did not.

- Why would he have done such a thing?
- Because he's completely crazy.

Was completely crazy.

You never know what's
round the corner, do you, Inspector?

Thank you.

It looks miserable.
Thank you so much.

Oh, dear.

Dear me.

Dear, dear, dear.

A quantity of grain, believed to be rye,
was found in one of his pockets.

Now that is interesting.

Fantastic...
That's quite fantastic.

It's one thing to hear your father's dead

but then to hear
that he's been poisoned...

I don't suppose you happen to know
who might have done it?

How? I've lived abroad for years.

I understand from your brother

that there was an estrangement
between you and your father.

That's right.

So I'm wondering, sir,
what brought you back?

I got a letter from my father about...
ooh, six months ago now

hinting that he'd like to let
bygones be bygones.

He suggested that I come home
and join the firm.

So I came over, last August,
to see him

and he made me, I must say,
a very advantageous offer

and I flew back to Kenya,
talked it over with Pat and...

Well, the upshot was
that I decided to accept.

Your return was a surprise
for your brother.

I don't think Percy knew a thing
about it.

He was on holiday
when I popped back,

and if you ask me,
the old man planned it very carefully.

You see, he and Percy
had had a blazing row

about what I've no idea,
but Dad was furious.

And how long were you back for?

Only an hour or two at the house.

The whole idea, I'm sure,

was a kind of secret offensive
behind Percy's back.

I don't think Dad even wanted
the servants to know.

Did you encounter
any other members of your family?

My stepmother. She and the old man
were the only people I saw.

- That was the first time you'd met her?
- Yes, it was.

I must say, the old boy certainly knew
how to pick 'em.

Do you resent your father remarrying?

No, why should I?
My mother died when I was 11.

In fact, I was surprised
he took so long to get hitched again.

There's rather a risk, sir,
don't you think,

of marrying a woman
much younger than yourself

You sound like my brother,
Inspector.

So, my stepmother is
the prime suspect, is she?

Oh, early days, sir. Early days.

Oh, well. I suppose I better
get down there.

Now I want you to stay up
in town for now.

No, darling,
I want to come with you.

I'd really rather you didn't.

I don't know what kind of welcome
I'm going to get.

and anyway,
I don't want you in a house

where there's a poisoner at large,
eh, Inspector?

- Yes.
- Vivian?

- Adele, I told you.
- Oh, at last.

- Where are you speaking from?
- The house.

- Are the police still around?
- No. They've gone for the moment.

'Vivian, it's been awful.'

Listen, we've got to be careful.

Of course, darling.

- Don't call me darling.
- But, Vivian...

You mustn't phone me. It isn't safe.

- Just for the moment, all right?
- All right.

Adele, those letters I wrote you,
you did burn them, didn't you?

- 'You did, didn't you?'
- Of course I did.

Honestly, Vivian.
I don't know what's got into you.

Vivian? Are you still there?

Have you served tea yet, Gladys?

It's not half past four yet, miss.

It's 20 minutes to five, Gladys.

- Who was that on the telephone?
- Wrong number, miss.

- Where in heaven's name have you been?
- Sorry, Mrs Crump.

That bell's been ringing
like there's no tomorrow.

Now get that tea served.
Stupid girl.

Crump's not gonna know
what's hit him when he gets back.

Taking the day off
with Mr Lancelot coming home.

Far too much to do
without going off gadding about.

Where is everybody this afternoon?

Miss Fortescue came in
some time ago

and I think Mrs Percival's
writing letters.

That woman never stops
writing letters.

I'll tell her tea's ready.

Gosh, it's freezing.

Come in.

Oh. I didn't realise you'd been out.

Yes. I was just in the garden
getting a breath of air but too cold.

Tea is served.

Aren't we ever going to have
anything to eat?

Yes, of course.

- Mr Lancelot?
- Himself.

- Your luggage?
- This is it.

It's all right. I've paid off the taxi.

Oh, I thought perhaps you'd walked.

- Is your wife not with you?
- No. No.

"Now listen here, Gladys,"
I says to her.

"You'll have to manage alone tonight,"

and she says, "Yes, Mrs Crump,"
good as gold.

Then the minute my back's turned,
out she slips without a whisper.

We'll manage.

What? Are you gonna wait at table?

- If she doesn't come back.
- Oh, she won't be back.

She's out gallivanting.

She got a young man now, miss,

though you wouldn't think it
to look at her.

Oh.

- It's so good to see you.
- Little Ellie.

- Poor Daddy.
- Yes, I know, I know.

- I'm Jennifer.
- How do you do?

Percival's in town, I'm afraid.

He's having to deal with everything,
as usual.

You've no idea what we're all
going through.

Of course, you don't know Adele,
do you?

- Oh, yes, I do.
- Sit down next to me, Lance.

I'm so glad you're here. We could do
with another man about the house.

Oh, it's been awful, just awful.
The place has been swarming with police.

- They met me at the airport.
- What did they say?

- They told me what had happened.
- They think he's been poisoned.

Not food poisoning, real poison.

And I'm convinced they think
it's one of us.

What a spread!

It's a while since I've got my teeth
into a good old English tea.

- Where's your wife?
- She's in London.

- You haven't brought her?
- No, Pat's all right where she is for now.

You're not thinking...

What a scrummy-looking
chocolate cake!

Old Mrs Crump knows her way
to a chap's heart, that's for sure.

- Who's the woman who let me in?
- Wasn't it Crump?

- It's his day off.
- Then why didn't Gladys let you in?

Brown eyes, soft voice,
butter wouldn't melt.

That'd be Mary Dove.
Sort of runs things for us.

Does she now?

- Old crusty crumpet!
- Oh! Oh! Oh!

Oh, you! Ooh!

Put me down, you little bugger, you!
Look at you!

Shall I switch the lights on,
Mrs Fortescue?

It gets dark so early, doesn't it?

..to finish her work.
I've got my own work to do.

As if I haven't got enough to do.

Carrying her all the time.

Tell them you'll be in tomorrow,
the day after.

Next week.

- You're your own boss now.
- And I've things to do.

Things to do.
There are always things to do.

What about me?

I'm sure you'll find something.
You usually do.

I shan't be late.

And then what if you come back
and find me choking

to death with a peg on my nose?

I doubt there's much chance of that.

What are you up to?

Oh, just making sure

there aren't any of those irritating
little flecks lurking around, sir.

Now you're the master, sir

we've got to make sure you're
spick-and-span, haven't we, sir?

The mistress of the house, please.

Yes?

There's an old woman asking to see
the mistress, ma'am.

That's too bad. I'm going out.

Very good, ma'am.

Why don't you tell Mrs Lancelot
to deal with her?

Now she's deigned to join us,
she might as well make herself useful.

It's very simple, really,
I'm here because of Gladys Martin.

I knew her, you see

and when I read this about the terrible
thing that's happened to her,

I felt I ought to see if there was
anything I could do.

Yes, of course. Nobody seems to know
very much about her and...

I doubt I can be of much help.

My husband and I have only recently
returned from Africa

and I've just come down from London,
much to his chagrin.

This Gladys, did she have any
relations, do you know?

No, she didn't.

She came to me from the orphanage

and I trained her for domestic service.

She was only 17.

Dear me, so young.
Was she a pretty girl?

Oh, no, not at all.

And rather stupid too
but I was fond of her

maybe even a little sorry for her.

One doesn't know what to do
with the Gladyses of this world.

How ghastly that she should have been
caught up in all this.

It was the clothes peg that worried me.

It's mentioned in the article.

Such a contemptuous gesture.

It gave me a kind of picture
of the murderer.

To do a thing like that is really
very wicked indeed.

And so pointless,
with no rhyme or reason.

Oh, no, my dear.

I wouldn't say that.

She was a very silly girl.

Credulous, the sort who'd give
her savings to a swindler,

not that she ever had any

because she always spent them
on the most unsuitable clothes.

- What about men, Miss Marple?
- Oh, she badly wanted one of those.

It seems she got one in the end.

- Did she?
- At the holiday camp.

Albert Evans, his name was.

A mining engineer,
so she told the cook.

Oh, dear. Well,
she'd believe anything.

You don't connect him with this business,
do you, Inspector?

No, I don't think so.

He sent her the odd postcard
but he never visited her.

Well, I'm glad she had
a taste of romance.

In the nick of time, as it turns out.

You know, you've a look
of the young Errol Flynn about you.

- Oh. Do you think so?
- Yes. Yes, I do.

I'm staying at the Baydon Heath
Golf Hotel for a day or two.

I wonder, Inspector,
would it be a presumption

if I were to offer assistance,
in some very humble way?

You strike me as a most intelligent and

if I may say so,
impressive young man

but three murders in two days

well, that's enough to challenge
the strongest mettle.

And people do tend to confide in old ladies...

don't you find?

- Rex Fortescue died of taxine poisoning.
- Taxine?

- You get it from yew trees.
- Oh, I know that, Inspector.

I was just thinking how very convenient.

- And Mrs Fortescue?
- Potassium cyanide.

She was having tea
in the sitting room with the family.

The last person to leave
was her stepdaughter Elaine.

Then some 20 minutes after that,
the housekeeper found her dead.

Had Mrs Fortescue
been eating anything?

They'd had a sumptuous tea.

Cake, I suppose, and scones, perhaps,
and butter and jam and honey.

Yes, all of these things and more
but the poison was in her tea.

I was just trying to get the whole picture.

And poor Gladys?

She'd taken the first tea tray
into the sitting room

and then left the second tray
in the hall.

After that no-one saw her.

The cook thought she'd gone out
for the evening

cos she was wearing
her best nylons and shoes.

Sadly that wasn't the case.

Poor girl had obviously remembered
some washing on the line,

gone out to fetch it in
when someone took her unawares.

- Someone from outside?
- Or inside.

But somebody
who wanted to get her alone.

It does all make a pattern,
don't you think, Inspector?

Does it?

Well, first we have Mr Fortescue,
Rex Fortescue,

killed in his office in the city.

Then we have Mrs Fortescue
eating scones and honey.

And then we have poor Gladys
with the clothes peg on her nose.

It does all seem to fit, doesn't it?

I'm not quite there yet, Miss Marple.

The papers were right, weren't they

about what you found in
Mr Fortescue's pocket? It was rye?

- Yes, it was.
- Well, there you are, you see.

Mrs Lance Fortescue,
what a charming woman,

she said to me that there didn't seem
to be any rhyme or reason.

But it's surely the rhyme
that strikes one.

Is it?

You haven't, by any chance,
gone into the question of blackbirds? Hm?

Silly as a peanut but sweet
as you like.

She didn't have much up here, though.

Well, didn't have much anywhere,
really, but...to go like that.

That stocking round her neck,
the peg on her nose.

Why would anyone
do such a wicked thing?

Oh, that girl knew something,
Miss Marple.

The day the master was killed,

she was twitching and jumping
like a rabbit.

- What's got into you today?
- Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs Crump.

Anyone would think
you had a guilty conscience.

Oh, don't say that, Mrs Crump.

Have you, Gladys?

Have you got a guilty conscience?

I don't know nothing, Mrs Crump.

Cos if you do, you should go
straight to the police.

I couldn't, Mrs Crump.

You speak the truth
and shame the devil.

And, anyway,
they'd never believe me.

Wouldn't believe what, Gladys?

Nothing, Mrs Crump.
I don't know nothing at all.

She must have seen
or heard something.

Oh, without a doubt, Miss Marple.

I wonder what. Mm.

Cos I've never taken
to that wife of Mr Percival.

- Haven't you, Mrs Crump?
- No, not ever.

She looks down her nose
when she's no right to.

- Course, you know, she used to be a nurse.
- Did she?

And nurses are used to handling drugs,
aren't they? And poisons.

So, you think that Gladys
may have unwittingly...

I'm saying nothing, Miss Marple.

Sir. Sir.

I found this in the shrubbery, sir.

Good work, Pickford.

So, someone would have got hold
of this new pot of marmalade

spooned a bit off the top,
mixed it with the taxine

and put the poisoned mixture back in
to make it look like a virgin pot.

Was Rex Fortescue the only one
who had marmalade with his breakfast?

- Yes, sir.
- That makes it very simple.

No need to worry about putting it
in his coffee.

And the contaminated pot
would have been replaced by another

with exactly the same amount
put back in

before being thrown
into the shrubbery.

All we have to do now
is find out who threw it.

♪ Sing a song of sixpence ♪

♪ A pocket full of rye ♪

♪ Four and twenty blackbirds
baked in a pie ♪

♪ When the pie was opened ♪

♪ The birds began to sing ♪

♪ Wasn't that a dainty dish
to set before the king? ♪

Yes. I like that nursery rhyme too,
Mr Crump.

What a very trying time
you must all have had.

I'm off. Had enough.

I can't stomach that Percival.

Will Mrs Crump be leaving too?

If she's got any sense, she will.

There's something funny
going on here.

When the master got mixed up
with whatshisname

and the blackbird...

- The blackbird, Mr Crump?
- And whatshisname.

- Whatshisname?
- You know, whatshisname.

What is his name, Mr Crump?

♪ The king was in the counting house
counting out his money ♪

♪ The maid was in the garden... ♪

- "Murder," she said.
- Who said?

Mrs whatshisname.

Who went to...where was it?
Pinewood, that's it.

Pinewood, Mr Crump?

Who the hell are you?

Marple, Jane Marple.

Well, bottoms up, miss.

Oh, dear.

♪ Pack up all my care and woe,
here I go ♪

♪ Singing low ♪

♪ Bye, bye, blackbird ♪

♪ Where somebody waits for me ♪

♪ Sugar's sweet, so is... ♪

- Mrs Fortescue.
- Oh, Miss Marple.

- What a surprise.
- Let me introduce you.

This is my husband Lancelot.
Lancelot, this is Miss Marple.

- How do you do?
- My sincere condolences.

- Thank you.
- Miss Marple knew Gladys.

- Gladys?
- The parlour maid with the peg on her nose.

- Oh, Gladys. Poor thing.
- Yes.

There now seems little doubt
that she saw or heard something.

Oh, really?

Yes, she said as much to Mrs Crump.

But the question is, what?

You sound like a professional,
Miss Marple.

Oh, no, Mr Fortescue.

And my interest is purely personal.
I was very fond of Gladys, you see.

I must say Inspector Neele
has been most sympathetic.

- I do love gardens, don't you?
- Yes, I do.

I have to admit,
they're rather a passion of mine.

Then, of course, there's
this whole business of blackbirds.

- Blackbirds?
- Yes, Mr Fortescue.

They came up in a little chat
I just had with Mr Crump.

He mentioned them,
or should I say, it.

If I remember correctly,
the phrase he used was the blackbird.

So strange, don't you think?

Good Lord, I bet he's referring
to the old Blackbird mine.

What was that, Mr Fortescue?

Some transaction my father
was involved in years ago now

with a chap called Mackenzie.

A mine on the west coast of Africa.

Mackenzie died out there of a fever
and his wife had other ideas.

She came round here with her two kids
and caused a terrific stink.

I wonder what happened
to Mrs Mackenzie and those kids.

They must be grown up by now.

As far as we know,

you were the last person
to see Adele Fortescue alive.

- The last but one, Inspector.
- Yes.

So it was about 20 past five
when you left the room, is that right?

About then. I can't say exactly.

And when you and Mrs Fortescue were learned,
what did you talk about?

We talked about Gerald.

Gerald arrived today.
He's checked in at the hotel.

I wouldn't have thought
that was his style at all.

- What's that supposed to mean?
- Mixing with the money.

I thought it would be
against his principles.

Well, at least he has some.

I'm surprised his teacher's salary
stretches that far.

Which is one of the reasons
I'm thinking of asking him to stay here.

- You wouldn't mind, would you?
- It's all the same to me.

I'd have thought you could do
a lot better for yourself now.

How do you mean?

Well, with your poor father gone

what with the will and that,
you're suddenly a bit of a catch.

You'll have the young men
swarming like bees round a honey pot.

They won't mind what you look like
any more.

So you and Gerald Wright...

Are you... courting?

Courting?
How frightfully old-fashioned.

But then you're such a gent,
aren't you, Inspector?

Yes, Gerald and I
are now planning to get married.

- Now?
- Now Daddy's dead.

He was very hurtful to Gerald.

In fact, Gerald was so upset
that I didn't hear from him for weeks.

And now he's back again.

I wired him when Father died.

And what did you do after leaving,
Miss Fortescue?

I went for a walk.

- A short walk.
- To the Baydon Heath Golf Hotel?

Yes.

But Gerald wasn't in.

Is that all, Inspector?

You can't tell me anything
about blackbirds, can you?

The ones in Daddy's pie?

When was this?

Three or four months ago.

- He was furious.
- Do you know who put them there?

I haven't the faintest idea.

Now, if you'll excuse me.

Oh. One more thing, Miss Fortescue.

- Did your stepmother make a will?
- People usually do, don't they?

Have you?

No.

Gladys, really!

- So, it was 20 to five.
- Yes.

We have been over this before, Inspector.

Precision is all, Miss Dove.

And you're coming from...

Upstairs. I thought I'd heard the telephone
a few minutes before.

- Have you served tea yet?
- It's not half past four yet, miss.

It's 20 minutes to five, Gladys.

- Who was that on the telephone?
- Wrong number.

- Where's tea?
- It's just coming, Mrs Fortescue.

She brought the first tea tray
into the sitting room ten minutes later.

- And that was the last time you saw her?
- Yes.

At last.

Then Miss Fortescue came in
some minutes later.

Gosh, it's freezing.

I was going to tell Mrs Percival
that tea was ready.

I thought I heard her coming
but that was a mistake.

You heard someone moving
about upstairs?

Yes, at the head of the stairs,
I thought.

But then no-one came down
so I went up.

Oh. I didn't realise you'd been out.

Tea is served.

- And that was...?
- Nearly five, I think.

And when did Lancelot arrive?

A few minutes after
I came downstairs again.

- I thought he'd arrived earlier but...
- Why did you think that?

I thought I'd caught sight of him
through the landing window.

- In the garden?
- Yes.

After telling Jennifer Fortescue
tea was ready?

No, not then. It was earlier
when I came down the first time.

Are you sure about that, Miss Dove?

Perfectly.

That's why I was surprised
when he actually did ring the doorbell.

- Mr Lancelot?
- Himself.

It couldn't have been him
that you saw in the garden.

His train was due at 4.40.

The earliest he could have got here
would have been just before five.

But I'm sure I saw someone.

But not clearly.
It was getting dark by then.

I didn't see his face but he was
a tall, slender man.

I simply presumed it was him.

- Where was he going?
- Towards the east side of the house.

- And is there a side door there?
- Yes.

So someone could
have got in unobserved?

- You mean the person I heard upstairs?
- Something like that.

- So, who was it?
- That remains to be seen.

By the way, you couldn't tell me
anything about blackbirds, I suppose?

- I'm sorry?
- Blackbirds.

- Do you mean...
- Blackbirds, Miss Dove.

Are you referring to that
silly business last summer?

Yes.

It was just a ridiculous,
spiteful joke.

Four dead blackbirds were left in
Mr Fortescue's desk in his study here.

- Why would anyone do a thing like that?
- I don't know, Inspector.

Oh, Gladys.

Can I help you?

Three murders in two days.
How very upsetting.

It's not been too pleasant.

Have you any idea
who could do something like that?

It's hard to say.

The whole household, you see,
is really quite odious.

You feel no especial loyalty
to your employers then, Miss Dove?

It's a job, Miss Marple,
and one I do to the best of my ability.

People will pay anything,
anything to be spared domestic worries.

I'm sure Mrs Fortescue
found you invaluable.

Seaside manicurist?
What on earth would she know?

She was younger than Mr Fortescue,
I understand.

By some 30 years.

Percival and Elaine were
simply livid about it

and Percival, especially,
couldn't bear the thought

that she might get her hands,
however well-manicured,

On his father's money.

Economy, you see, is Percival's passion.
His only passion, in fact.

Well, it's hardly surprising
when you look at his wife.

How did he meet her?

She nursed him through pneumonia.

You're probably fonder of his sister.

What? Elaine?

It's hard to be fond of Elaine.
She's very bookish and rather plain.

Perhaps she might benefit
from a shot of this.

Does she have a young man?

She was having some sort of dalliance
with a schoolmaster.

But her father discovered
he had communistic tendencies

and soon put a stop to it.

- She didn't stand up to him?
- Oh, she would have done.

But her Red lover's ardour cooled

when he realised
there'd be no money in it.

Now the old man's out of the way,
however, the passion is rekindled.

I believe he arrived at the golf hotel

the day after Mr Fortescue's death.

The day after?

So Miss Fortescue said

but then words come cheap,
don't they, Miss Marple?

Dear me, Miss Dove,

your cynicism belies your years.

Take no notice of me.
I'm a malicious creature.

Better watch out Crump.
She's onto you.

You came down to tea late,
I understand.

I had been writing letters
and lost track of time.

Miss Dove said you'd been out for a walk.

Did she?

Oh, well, now I come to think of it, yes.

I had been writing letters
but went out for a breath of air.

- Chocolate?
- No, thank you.

Meet anyone?

No. Erm...no.

Your husband hadn't come home yet?

Oh, no. Percy didn't get back
until about seven.

- By train?
- Yes.

Do you know if Adele Fortescue
made a will?

Oh, yes she did.

- Do you know when?
- About a month ago.

Percy knew nothing about it.
In fact, nobody did.

I bumped into her on the high street
outside this solicitor's.

She said she had no intention
of using the family solicitor

because she didn't want everyone
knowing her business.

I didn't particularly care for her.

Rather common, I thought.

But now she's dead, well...

It's all so very dreadful, isn't it?

Do you know anything about blackbirds,
Mrs Fortescue?

Thank you. Thank you.

Do you, Mrs Fortescue?

Blackbirds, Inspector?

What kind of blackbirds?

The usual, I suppose,
the ones that flutter around

and twitter away, or lie stone cold dead.

Ring any bells?

Perhaps you're referring
to the ones in the pie.

Or the ones in Mr Fortescue's study.

Silly prank. That's all it was.
He was furious.

He thought there might be
strangers about.

- Strangers?
- That's what he said.

- Did that seem to unnerve him?
- Oh yes, it did rather.

Of course, I don't remember very well.
It was several months ago.

Actually, would you mind,
Mrs Fortescue?

I'm rather partial to the nutty ones.

- Oh, go ahead.
- Thank you.

When Rex Fortescue died,
his wife inherited 100,000P.

A sum the firm could ill afford.

Mr Fortescue didn't leave the business
in a healthy state?

Between ourselves, Inspector,
it's heading straight for the rocks

and has been for the last 18 months.

- Any particular reason?
- He was behaving like a lunatic,

selling good stock here,
buying speculative stuff there.

He just wouldn't listen to reason.

He was driving Percival up the wall.

In fact, he was desperate for him
to see a doctor

but Fortescue wouldn't hear of it.

I don't need a bloody doctor!

Then maybe you need a bit of a break.

A bit of a break!
I don't need a bloody break.

I don't need you treating me
like a bloody moron.

Percival suspected, you see,

that his father was suffering
from a form of dementia.

Pick's disease, he called it.

I think his grandfather suffered
from something similar.

I'd say it was a bit of luck all round

that the old chap kicked the bucket
when he did.

Three murders.
Extraordinary.

- Adele Fortescue did have something to leave?
- Oh, no, Inspector.

There was a clause in the will saying

that she'd only inherit

if she survived her husband
by one month,

which, tragically, she didn't.
- Why the clause?

It's fairly common these days,
with the increase in air travel.

When two people get killed
in a plane crash...

it can become exceedingly difficult
to find out who was the survivor.

- Follow my drift?
- Yes.

So tell me, what happens to the money?

- It goes back to the residuary legatee.
- Percival Fortescue.

- Good evening, Mr Wright.
- Good evening.

Pinewood.

- I expect you'll miss her very much.
- Yes, we were good friends.

She phoned you, I believe,
on the afternoon of her death.

If you say so, Inspector.

- What did you talk about?
- Nothing very important, I'm sure.

- And then you went for a walk?
- No. I played a few holes of golf.

I don't think you did, Mr Dubois,

because the hotel porter

noticed you walking down the road
towards Yewtree Lodge.

If you already know, why do you ask?

- Did you see Mrs Fortescue?
- I didn't go near the house.

I think you'd better
make a statement, Mr Dubois.

Of course you'd be quite within your rights
to have a solicitor present.

Are you threatening me?

No, Mr Dubois. We're not allowed
to do that sort of thing.

I had nothing to do with it.

Then why were you seen outside
the house at about half past four?

- I didn't go inside.
- Are you sure of that?

You didn't go in through the side door
up to Mrs Fortescue's sitting room?

And are you sure you weren't
looking for something in her desk?

You've got them, haven't you?

Strictly speaking, no.

Your letters to Mrs Fortescue were taken
from her bureau by my sergeant

and passed onto the Yard
for possible evidence.

I told her to burn them.

You were good friends, as you say.

- Very, very good friends.
- That doesn't mean we bumped off Rex.

Not necessarily, but it might suggest
that you encouraged her

or provided her with a motive.

- You can't make a case against me.
- She made a will, you know.

- Left everything to you.
- I don't want her money.

Just as well cos there isn't much.

But I thought her husband
had left her with...

Did you now?
I was wondering if you knew.

Yes, according to her solicitor
she didn't have much to leave

but since her husband's death...

that's all changed, hasn't it, Mr Dubois?

- Madam.
- Thank you.

I was in the Isle of Man
when Rex Fortescue was killed.

Such a terrible tragedy.

- Yes.
- And you arrived shortly afterwards?

Elaine sent for me.

No doubt in need
of a comforting shoulder to cry on.

I suppose so.

- You were engaged, weren't you, Mr Wright?
- Yes, we were.

- You would appear to be well suited.
- Her father didn't think so.

He threatened to disinherit her
if the marriage went ahead.

So, I naturally
broke off the engagement.

Oh, how very selfless.

I was victimised
for my political opinions, Miss Marple.

Oh, dear.

Still, every cloud, as they say.

What do you mean?
- Well..

Surely the marriage can now go ahead
with the inheritance intact?

The money, Miss Marple, will be
used for the benefit of the community.

Oh, admirable, Mr Wright.
Quite admirable.

Tell me, did you see or hear anything

when in the vicinity of Yewtree Lodge
that afternoon?

What makes you think
I was in the vicinity?

Because I thought
you left the hotel at 4.15

and walked in that direction.

The hotel receptionist
just happened to mention it.

I was going to go to the house
but I just went for a stroll instead.

- Oh, now that is strange.
- Is it?

Yes, because someone said
they'd seen you in the garden

at Yewtree Lodge at about 4.30.

Well, visibility must have been
very bad by then.

Are you acquainted with Vivian Dubois?

Why do you ask?

Because he was also out for a stroll
that afternoon.

I must say, you must all
have been feeling very energetic.

They come and they go
and they don't tell us anything.

One presumes they're pursuing
some line of inquiry.

So inconsiderate.

Pass the marmalade,
there's a honey.

So, Elaine, I gather you're going
to marry erm... what's his name?

- Gerald.
- Gerald, yes. Gerald.

- And then what?
- We plan to start a school.

You mean you plan to take
all your money out of the business?

Better than leaving it in.

You said yourself that things were
in a pretty bad state.

- But you would lose the lot.
- We won't

I'm with you, Ellie.

What are your plans?
Off back to Kenya?

Well...I'm not so sure about that.

Well, you never had much time
for poor, little England.

One changes as one gets older,
don't you find?

And having given it a lot of thought
and chatted it over with Pat...

Well, the long and short of it is,
old chap

I've decided to join the firm.

As your junior partner,
but I have got a holding in it

and that gives me rights to be in
on things, doesn't it?

Well, yes, if you put it like that.

Bloody good idea, don't you think?

I knew you'd be pleased.

But won't you find it rather boring

after your outdoor life, safari and things?

Once you've seen one elephant...

Things are very bad.

It'll be all we can do to scrape together
Elaine's share.

Hear that, Ellie? Grab it while you can.

You've no idea
what a time Percival's had

while you've been gadding about
with the natives.

He's been ill with worry and now you
come back here smug as you like...

- Jennifer, please.
- Well, it's too bad.

It's really too bad.

Frightfully stuffy in here,
don't you think?

It won't work. It's as simple as that.

I know you too well, Lance.
You'll be fed up in no time.

When I say things are bad,
I'm not exaggerating.

This past year Dad has thrown
money away hand over fist.

It's just as well that someone
slipped the taxine in his tea.

If I'm honest,
his death's the only thing

that's saved us from bankruptcy.

- Lance, I'm fond of you...
- Are you?

I really don't think
we're going to pull together.

The only sensible thing
is to dissolve the partnership.

- You mean buy me out?
- There's no alternative.

- How will you pay me my share?
- We'll divide the holdings.

With you keeping all the gilt-edged

and me taking
the worst of the speculative?

Some of them may prove to be
immensely valuable.

Like the old Blackbird goldmine,
for instance?

No, perhaps not that.
Father was pretty certain it was worthless.

He went out there with a chap
called Mackenzie, didn't he

who died out there.

Er... yes, I think he did.

And his wife came round here with
her two kids and accused Dad of murder.

- Really can't remember.
- Well I do.

I remember him quite well.

It's very kind of you to see me,
Mrs Mackenzie.

I believe you knew Rex Fortescue.

He died recently,
as you're probably aware.

I believe you once paid him a visit.

He'd been connected with your husband

had he not, over a certain mine in Africa?

The Blackbird mine, Mrs Mackenzie.

Your husband and Mr Fortescue
went out to survey it, I believe,

and didn't your husband die
out there of fever?

You believe an awful lot, don't you?

Then believe this.
It was my husband's mine.

He found it and laid claim to it

and went to Rex Fortescue
for the money to capitalise it.

Nobody knows how he died
or where he was buried.

All anyone knows
is what Rex Fortescue said

and Rex Fortescue was a liar.

Do you believe he was responsible
for your husband's death?

How stupid you are.

I dare say I am, Mrs Mackenzie,
but it all happened so long ago.

- And it's not over yet.
- Isn't it?

Nothing is ever settled
until it is settled right.

I hear somebody put dead blackbirds
in Rex Fortescue's desk.

Have you any idea
who might have done that?

Nine and seven they were when he died.

- Your children?
- Donald and Ruby.

I told them every day and
made them swear it every night.

- What did you make them swear?
- That they'd kill him, of course.

And did they, Mrs Mackenzie?

My son died at Dunkirk.

"Deeply regret killed in action."

I'm so sorry.

- And your daughter?
- I have no daughter.

- But you just spoke of her.
- She didn't keep faith.

Where is she now?

I told you, I have no daughter.

You mean she's dead?

It would be better for her if she were.

Erm...do any of her relations
ever visit her?

Well, I gather her daughter
came once but it was before my time.

It agitated Mrs Mackenzie so much

that she was advised
not to come again.

And I suppose you've no idea
where she is now?

I'm afraid I haven't. Oh, it's so kind of you
to come, Miss Marple.

I'm sure it did her the world of good
to see an old neighbour.

Did she remember you?

Do you know,
I don't think she had a clue who I was.

Well done, Miss Marple.

We'll be recruiting you
if you're not careful!

Oh, Inspector.

'Oh, and another thing.
You're right about a pattern.'

Blackbird's tying in with the mine,

the rye in Fortescue's pocket,

bread and honey for tea
and the third murder

Gladys, strangled with a peg on her nose.

- What you just said...
- 'What is it, Miss Marple?'

There's something wrong.

- You merit this, don't you?
- No. No no.

It worries me to death having you here.
I wish you'd go back to London.

I'm not going anywhere.

Not 'til we're awfully welcome
with Percival and such.

They'll just have to put up with us for now.
I want to see them suffer a bit longer.

I do think it's so very important to use
all this time constructively.

- Don't you agree Miss Marple?
- Oh?

First and each day alone, with no
congenial company at all.

But at least I make an effort.

Have to admit people around here
rub me and my kind

Flashy lot. Leaving duress
lay with the common

Of course Adele fitted in perfectly.

My father in law made a very
foolish second marriage.

Now, I wouldn't wish to speak
to speak ill of the dead

But she was melon mad.

Spent money like water.
And he let her get away with everything.

It vexed Percy very much indeed.

He's always been so very... careful,
with money you see.

- And then his father began behaving so badly.
- It must have been a great worry.

Oh, it was.
This last year Percy's been beside himself.

You will stay for dinner, won't you?
Oh? Well.

And then there is Elaine.
Very odd.

She doen't want to show up or
go to a man or near anything.

Too bookish for a young
lady in my opinion.

You must think me very queer
going on like this.

Oh no.

It's just with all the strain and schock.
I do feel so very nevous.

There was a time
when we all dressed for dinner.

Well, times are changing, Percival.

For better or worse, I wonder.

- For better, of course, aren't they, Gerald?
- Without a doubt.

Filthy night.

I really don't know
what Miss Marple must think.

We used to be such a happy family.

Are you enjoying this part of the world,
Miss Marple?

Well, under the circumstances,
Mr Fortescue.

Where's Pat?

You know, Miss Marple, I don't believe
this was ever a happy house,

and that anyone was ever happy in it.
I can't wait to leave.

You've had your share of unhappiness too.

I've had some good times as well
but when the war came...

Your husband was shot down, wasn't he?

We'd only been married a month.

I thought at first I wanted to die too

but then began to think that perhaps
it was for the best.

- Why was that?
- I don't think peace would have suited him.

He found insubordination irresistible.

A fighter to the end.
I don't think he'd ever have fitted in.

And your second husband?

He shot himself.

Oh, dear.

Poor Freddie.

We were madly in love but...
I began to realise that he wasn't...

Well, he wasn't always straight.

I tried to turn a blind eye

but you can't change people,
can you, Miss Marple?

No, my dear.

Lance thinks it's someone
in the family and I think he's right.

That's why there's always an atmosphere.

Everybody watching everybody else.
Something's got to happen soon.

No, my dear,
there won't be any more deaths.

You can't be sure of that.

As a matter of fact I am.

The murderer's accomplished
his purpose, you see?

His?

- Or hers.
- Dinner is served, ladies.

Good morning,
Consolidated Investments Trust.

Good morning, ladies.
Working hard?

- Good morning.
- Good morning.

Miss Grosvenor, Lancelot Fortescue.

You're even lovelier
than I'd imagined.

Er...Mr Fortescue...

- Inspector.
- Mr Fortescue.

There's no getting away from you,
is there?

- First day?
- Yeah.

- I'm quite the new boy.
- Well, you certainly look the part.

Well, that's the easy bit.

Are you not too sure
you'll hack it then, sir?

Strictly off the record,
this isn't my bag at all.

But don't tell Percy, though.

- I want to make him sweat a bit.
- Why's that, sir?

- It's old history now.
- Wouldn't be the little matter of a cheque?

- You're right on the ball.
- When your father kicked you out.

Which is just what Percy wanted.

It's astonishing
how Percy always got his way.

- Lance... Talk of the devil.
- Mr Fortescue.

- You didn't tell me you were coming.
- Couldn't keep away.

There are a couple of things
I'd like to talk to you about.

I know your father's behaviour'd been
a source of anxiety this past year.

- He wasn't well.
- But he wouldn't see a doctor.

- That's right.
- Pick's disease, I believe.

Remarkably astute of you, Inspector.

A form of dementia.

Yes, which is why I was so anxious
for him to seek medical advice.

In the meantime he was causing havoc
to the business?

Yes.

So his death was extremely fortunate.

I would hardly describe it as such.

No, but it is a fact, isn't it, that his death
came at just the right time?

- What are you driving at?
- I like getting my facts straight.

You said there was no contact between you

and your brother since he left England.

Quite so.

- But it isn't quite so, is it, Mr Fortescue?
- Ooh, Percy.

Last spring when you were worried
about your father's health

you wrote to him for his backing,

should it become necessary
to put your father under restraint.

How the hell did you know about that?

From your family solicitor, Mr Fortescue.

I thought it only right considering
Lancelot was a junior partner.

- And how did you reply?
- I told him to leave the old man alone.

You see, Inspector,
that was one of the reasons

I came home, to see for myself,

and, frankly, there didn't seem anything
much wrong with him.

- The man was ill. I was worried sick.
- About the money, yes.

You swan back from Africa
and dare to suggest...

Give it a rest, Percy, for Christ sake!

Do you know something, old chap?

It makes me ever so slightly nauseous
being in the same room with you

and that is because you are a dirty,
little skunk. And you always have been.

- Keep it down!
- And I'll tell you another thing.

It was you, wasn't it, who forged
that cheque that got me the boot,

wasn't it? Wasn't it?

Now, now, gents. Steady on.

I'm really sick of little men like you
with your striped suits

and your mincing voices

and your mean, shoddy deals.

Oh, God, I can't wait
to get back to Africa.

So, just buy me out however you like,
I couldn't give a damn.

You can even throw in
the old Blackbird mine concession,

if you want to get the murdering
Mackenzies off your back.

- What are you talking about?
- Revenge, Percy.

The Mackenzies? Nonsense.

The Inspector doesn't think so, do you?

There are certain grounds for inquiry.

No-one's heard
from the Mackenzies for years.

A dish best served cold,
as the saying goes.

Good morning, gentlemen.

I'm most dreadfully sorry about all that.

Percival Fortescue.

Wherever I turn, I always come up
against Percival bloody Fortescue.

He's the one who has most to gain

and he's the one
who couldn't possibly have done it.

Granted. He might have tampered
with the marmalade

but he couldn't have poisoned
his stepmother

and he couldn't have strangled Gladys.

Why not?

He was here till five that day
and didn't get home till seven.

Well, there's one or two others
who had a motive, sir.

Mary Dove. Is that your real name?

What an extraordinary question.
Are you suggesting that it isn't?

Yes. I am, in fact, suggesting
that your name is Ruby Mackenzie.

- Is it?
- My name is Mary Dove.

Prove it.

Do you want to see my birth certificate?

That wouldn't prove anything,
I'm afraid.

It could be a friend's
or someone who's died.

A lot of possibilities, aren't there?

Quite a dilemma for you, Inspector.

Do you deny, categorically,
that you are Ruby Mackenzie?

I rather think it's up to you
to prove that I am.

So much depends
on nursing in pneumonia.

Oh, yes, it's nearly everything.

That's how your romance started
with Percival, wasn't it?

Yes. Yes. That's how it started.

Wasn't there another nurse
who got sent away?

Yes, and I came to replace her.

And fell in love. How nice.

Not so sure about that.

Of course,
I'm never one to complain.

What I always say is
what can't be cured must be endured.

But it would be nice to have
someone to talk to.

One does feel so very isolated

when my husband's away
in the city every day.

I often wish I was back
on the wards again.

You're obviously devoted
to your profession.

Not so much at the time,
but now when I think of it

I often wish I'd never come here.

Ah, well.
I dare say it's served me right.

I ought never to have done it.

Ought never to have done what,
my dear?

Ought never to have married Percy.

I really think, Inspector, that things
are becoming very much clearer.

- Are they?
- Oh, yes.

I now know what didn't ring true
when I spoke to you on the telephone.

It was something you said
about the third murder.

Poor Gladys with the peg on her nose.

Well, of course, it wasn't, was it?

Wasn't what, Miss Marple?

The third murder.

Gladys must have been murdered
before Mrs Fortescue,

even though
her body wasn't found till later.

She must have been murdered about
five o'clock because otherwise...

She would've taken the second tray
to the sitting room.

Quite so. When she brought the tray
into the hall, something happened.

She saw or heard something.

- Vivian Dubois coming down the stairs.
- Perhaps.

Or Gerald Wright coming
in the side door.

Whoever it was lured her out
into the garden and killed her.

She'd never be fetching in washing
at that time

and certainly not without a coat on.

So it's never a case of the maid
in the garden hanging out the clothes.

I... I thought I was following you but I...

The sequence is all wrong, you see.

The king in the counting house,
the queen in the parlour,

the maid in the garden
but that's not how the murders happened.

It's all camouflage to make it look like
the rhyme was the inspiration

and that's very significant,
don't you think?

- Shall I begin at the beginning?
- It would be a help, yes.

The beginning, Inspector, is Gladys.

I came here because of her

and you very kindly
let me look through all her things

and what with that
and the nylon stockings and best shoes

and the telephone calls,
it became perfectly clear.

I mean about Mr Fortescue
and the taxine.

You have a theory
about who poisoned the marmalade?

Not a theory, Inspector, I know.

- You do?
- Oh, yes. It was Gladys, of course.

Gladys?

Not that she meant to murder him
but she did it all the same.

She put the taxine in the marmalade
not thinking it was poison.

What did she think it was?

I imagine she thought it was a truth drug.

A very credulous girl was Gladys,
as I told you.

So, having read it in the papers,

she'd believe it absolutely
when he told her that that's what it was.

When who told her?

Albert Evans.
Not of course, his real name,

when he met her last summer
at the holiday camp.

I imagine he told her some story
of injustice or some such thing

but the point was
that Rex Fortescue had to

be made to confess what he'd done

and make restitution.

So Albert got her to get a job
at Yewtree Lodge.

And then they arranged a date together.

That was the day that Gladys
would put the so-called truth drug

into the marmalade

and also the rye
in Mr Fortescue's pocket.

I don't know what story he told her
to account for that but,

frankly, she'd believe anything,

especially from a personable young man.

- I'm not keeping you, am I?
- No, no, no.

Well, the idea was probably that Albert

was going to call on Mr Fortescue
at his office,

by which time the truth drug
would have worked

and Mr Fortescue
would confess everything.

You can imagine how Gladys felt
when she heard the poor man was dead.

But wouldn't she have said something?

She's hardly likely to admit it, is she?

I didn't do it, sir. I didn't, really.

After denying it,
she tried to think up excuses.

Perhaps Albert hadn't known
how strong the stuff was

or had accidentally given her
too much of it.

She hoped he'd get in touch, which,
of course, he did.

He'd have rung till she answered
and then made a date to meet him.

- On the day she died.
- Yes.

She had on her best stockings
and shoes

so she was obviously going
to meet someone

and she wasn't going out to meet him,
he was coming to the house.

That's why she was so flustered
and late with the tea.

She brought the second tray
into the hall.

I think she looked along the passage
and saw him.

So she put the tray down
and went out to meet him.

Albert?

She had to die.
He couldn't risk her talking.

And then the peg to fit with the rhyme

the nearest he could get
to a dicky bird that pecked off her nose.

So if you're suggesting Albert Evans
wanted revenge

for this whole Blackbird mine business,

then you must believe that it was
Mrs Mackenzie's son behind all this.

That he didn't die at Dunkirk,
after all.

Oh, no.
I'm not suggesting that for a minute.

Don't you see, Inspector?

All this blackbird business
is a complete distraction.

It was used by someone
who'd heard about the blackbirds

to point the finger of suspicion at the Mackenzies.

Then who is the killer, Miss Marple?

Someone quite sane,
brilliant and unscrupulous

and done, of course, for money.

Percival.

No, not Percival.

Lance.

Are you all right, Inspector?

Lance came home in the summer
to see his father.

I don't believe for a moment
that his father sent for him,

unless, of course,
you have actual evidence?

No. Only a letter that Lance
is supposed to have written

to his father afterwards

which he could easily have slipped
into his papers the day he arrived.

He probably attempted a reconciliation

but his father would have none of it.

You see,
Lance is very much in love with Pat

but the small pittance
he was living on

wasn't enough for the life he thought
they should have.

When he was here he must have heard
about the blackbirds

and jumped to the conclusion

that Mackenzie's daughter
was established in the house.

A perfect scapegoat for murder
because murder it would have to be.

He feared that
by the time his father died

the business would have
completely collapsed.

Perhaps his father's name
being Rex

suggested the idea
of the nursery rhyme.

Then he could dispose of Adele too
and save the firm 100,000P.

But to make the rhyme work

there had to be the maid in the garden
hanging out the clothes.

An innocent accomplice
whom he could silence before she could talk.

And thus give him a genuine alibi
for the first murder.

After strangling Gladys,

he rang the bell...

and joined family for tea.

- It's so good to see you.
- Little Ellie.

Old crusty crumpet!

He went to see Mrs Crump

and then slipped back into the sitting room
where he found Adele alone.

- Your tea. - Oh, thank you, Lance.

You're very well trained, aren't you?

But his share of the business
isn't worth three murders.

I would agree, Inspector,
if it's true the Blackbird mine is worthless.

A mine on the west coast of Africa.

But what if he'd been deliberately
misleading us?

What if the Blackbird mine
was on the east coast of Africa not west?

East Africa, where uranium deposits
have recently been discovered.

And where Lance has been living
these past several years.

And just suppose the deposits are
on the site of the old Blackbird mine.

Young Lancelot could make a killing.

It's all pure assumption.

But you know it's right, don't you?

- I suppose I do.
- So do I.

It was Pat drew my attention to him.

She's the kind
that always marries a bad lot.

How on earth am I going
to be able to prove it?

Oh, you'll prove it all right, Inspector.

You're a very clever man.
I have no doubt you'll find the evidence.

And this still doesn't explain
the Ruby Mackenzie business.

If you don't mind my saying so,
you've been barking up the wrong tree.

I was talking to your mother
a few days ago.

She's very angry with me, isn't she?

Poor Mummy.
She was so devoted to Daddy.

And she brought you up
swearing to avenge his death.

She made us swear on the Bible
that one day we'd kill Rex Fortescue.

When I started training as a nurse,

I realised her mental balance
wasn't all it should be.

- You must have felt revengeful.
- Well, of course I did.

When a friend of mine
came to nurse his son,

I got her to leave and took her place.

I don't know exactly
what I meant to do

but Percy got fond of me,
asked me to marry him.

I thought that a far more sensible
revenge than anything else.

To marry his oldest son

and then get back the money
he swindled Daddy out of.

Did you plant the blackbirds?

It was silly of me, really,
but he was such a horrid man.

It gave him quite a fright.
He was absolutely furious.

But I didn't do anything else.
Really, I didn't.

Tell me, Mrs Fortescue,
have you given Miss Dove any money lately?

Oh...

I told her that you'd accused me
of being Ruby Mackenzie

and said that if she gave me 500,
I'd let you go on thinking that.

I told her that if you knew she's Ruby,
she'd be your prime suspect.

It wasn't exactly blackmail.
I was just doing her a favour.

Thank you, Miss Dove.

This is all very annoying.
I'm particularly hard up at the moment.

You'll be looking for another job,
I suppose?

Yes, this one hasn't quite gone
according to plan.

Mm, unlike your other jobs.

My past is quite blameless,
I assure you.

A curious coincidence, though,
that in your last three posts,

there have happened to be robberies
a couple of months after your departure.

Coincidences do happen, Inspector.

Yes, but they mustn't happen too often.

How on earth
did you know about the money?

Ooh, just a stab in the dark.

- I do wish you weren't going.
- I've finished what I came to do.

It hasn't been altogether pleasant but,

it is important
that wickedness shouldn't triumph.

- I don't understand.
- No, my dear, but perhaps one day you will.

If anything ever goes wrong in your life,
you won't despair, will you?

- Miss Marple, you're starting to worry me.
- You won't, will you?

But how could I despair
with Lance at my side?

We're going back to Kenya, you know,
as soon as everything's cleared up.

Oh, I can't wait.

I'm so glad to see you home, miss.

I'm glad to be home, Tilly.

And I haven't broken nothing
since you went, honest.

Here's your letters.

- Thank you, Tilly.
- One went to Daisymead by mistake.

They've been away
and only sent it round today.

They hoped it weren't important.

I'll just put your things away.

Dear madam,
I hope as you'll forgive me writing this but

I really don't know what to do.

You'll have seen the newspapers.

It was murder, they say,

but I'd never do anything wicked
and I know Albert wouldn't either.

We met last summer
and was going to be married

only Bert had been done
out of his rights by this Mr Fortescue.

But Bert'd a friend

who works in a place
where they make these new drugs

and there's
what they call a truth drug.

Oh, madam,
I don't know what to do.

If you could only come here
and help me.

I didn't mean anything wrong
and Bert didn't either.

I'm enclosing a snap of Bert and me.

Bert doesn't know I've got it.
He hates being snapped.

But you can see, madam,
what a nice boy he is.