What does it say? It's a good luck prayer, I think.
Unless it's a curse.
I can't go on for ever, Clive.
It'd be all you wanted.
All you ever worked for.
They're already jockeying for position.
Eden, Butler, Macmillan.
You must get yourself up to the starting gate.
It is a race for the greatest prize of all.
Follow you, sir?
Yes, sir. I want to bet on a winner.
There is no heavier burden
and no greater reward
than to be prime minister of this extraordinary nation of ours.
Only time.
Time?
Seize the moment.
What's stopping you?
What is it?
Do you have the black dog too?
He comes when you feel you can't go on?
Don't let the beast near you.
P.M. TOO OLD TO LEAD? Following Mr Churchill's...
election victory at the age of 76,
people are asking who will succeed him as leader
of the Conservative Party. WAR HERO TREVELYAN...
GETS CABINET POSITION Those in the know...
tip Captain Clive Trevelyan,
DSO and member of Parliament for Exhampton,
the Devon constituency on the edge of Dartmoor.
Away from Parliament, Captain Trevelyan,
bachelor and former Olympic skier,
prefers his home Sittaford House
to the bright lights
and society life enjoyed by his ward,
well-known playboy, James Pearson.
- There you are. - You finally tracked me down, James.
- What's t- this? - Ssh. Quiet please.
Sorry!
Bring Mr Pearson a cup of black coffee, would you?
No, I don't want coffee.
So tell me what that letter means.
What does it look like?
It looks like a letter from you,
threatening to disinherit me unless I pull up my socks.
"Having taken you in,
"orphaned, as you were, in such sad circumstances,
"you have repaid my investment
"in your upbringing by wasting every opportunity
"and displaying sheer ingratitude," etc, etc.
I didn't write it.
Forgive me, gentlemen. Good evening. Good evening.
Would you care to comment on your meeting with the PM?
The PM and I were simply having a drink in our club.
- And what were you discussing? - Cricket.
Do you see yourself as captain of England, sir?
Well bowled, but no wicket.
That'll be all, gentlemen. Thank you.
Paddington Station, please.
Clive!
Clive. Clive!
Clive! Come on!
Clive!
I'm so sorry,
but have you seen a nephew looking for his aunt?
Because we were supposed to meet under the station clock
and he wasn't there.
He may have got on the train without me,
thinking I'd got on the train without him.
It's Captain Trevelyan, isn't it?
But my nephew's a neighbour of yours.
Raymond West. The novelist.
Really? Well, I never.
You're in for Clot of the Year, darling,
if you think causing a scene in his club will help.
Blue Curacao.
And you're hours late. Men have been circling.
Tell them from me not to.
Creme de menthe, cognac - Napoleon.
Roddy, let me get you a drink. What can I get you?
I'll have an American.
Thanks.
- Still here? - Charles Burnaby.
- I'm Emily Trefusis. - Trefusis?
- Yes, that Trefusis. - We've met.
Ascot this year.
- The royal enclosure. - A friend took me.
- Hello again. - I don't remember you.
This is my fiance Jim Pearson. This is Charles.
Charles.
More jiggly. More, more, more, more, more.
More, more, more, more jiggly. Perfect.
Vitamins.
What's your name?
You're very handsome. Isn't he handsome, Emily?
Jolly handy too, I bet. Sitting room. Sofa.
I love you.
Done.
Jim's right about you.
You are awfully handy.
Good night, Emily.
Good night, Charles.
And what with Raymond's cottage
being next door to you at Sittaford House
if one can be next door in a country lane,
it does make sense to share a taxi,
with the price of things these days.
What a steep hill.
Here we are. There's key under a flowerpot if he's not here.
Good evening, Captain.
Ahmed!
- Mr Enderby? - I believe he's asleep, sir.
- And Harry? - Both of them.
Ah.
- I must have dropped off. - You must have.
- You're late. - I dropped in to the club.
Ah, so the papers are right, then.
What do you mean?
You only go to the club if something's afoot.
Discreet hugger-mugger about your prospects.
How was your week?
Ah, well, all's quiet on the constituency front.
Except the Scouts want you to open their new hut.
Fancy a nightcap, finish our game?
Not tonight, John.
We interrupt this programme to issue
a severe weather warning for the Southwest.
There will be a dramatic drop in temperature
with heavy snowfall drifting in high ground.
Residents of affected areas strong invited stay in doors.
That ends the severe weather warning
return you to Contemporary Concert.
Raymond? Oh!
Where are you?
Still in France?
But when will you be back?
Final chapter. Quotation.
"If you can keep your head
"while all around you are losing theirs..."
I trust and hope my dear parents would have approved
of the path I've trod through life.
It's a wise father that knows his own child.
My father always...
Let me rest, for God's sake!
Sorry. Just wondered how the patient was this morning,
- but I can see. - Still on the sofa, dead to the world.
Thank you.
Is he? Only the door's wide open and...
oh, look, there's a note.
Idiot.
What's he done?
Di I say he was brought up
by Clive Trevelyan?
- Was he really? - Trevelyan was his guardian.
Anyway, yesterday they had this awful row
and to make things worse, Jim's gone chasing after him.
- Where's he gone? - Devon.
I'm going that way.
I could...
And why should I accept a lift from a stranger?
Because your Lagonda needs a new camshaft.
You told me last night.
Did I? What a chatterbox I am.
What's your motor?
A Mark 2 rust bucket.
But it's outside now, it's got four wheels...
..and a working camshaft.
Give me 25 minutes.
The prison bell rang last night. Another escape.
I heard.
Have the police made any progress
at all about the break-in at the flat?
Not that I know.
Strange business. Nothing missing at all?
I'm not so sure now.
Someone sent James a letter
on my London notepaper, supposedly from me.
Very strange.
Who's the Turkish Delight from?
It's from the Women's Institute.
It's a thank-you for your talk.
Your favourite.
Raymond West has been on. He's stuck in France.
He doesn't like the idea of his aunt
being all alone in this weather,
so I said we'd take her in until he can get back.
Very well.
Er...
The Prime Minister's personal secretary called...
about what you discussed at the er, club last night.
It was nothing.
Right.
- I said you'd ring back anyway. - I'm out...all day.
I need to be on my own to think.
Where are you off to, to think?
Up on the moor. I don't know.
You're my political agent, John, not my damned nursemaid.
- Don't fuss. - Yes, yes, yes, yes.
Sorry, sorry.
Catch anything this morning, Harry?
Harry says,"No, I didn't."
It's the best I can do.
I have to share the bathroom in the corridor.
We're the Three Crowns, Exhampton,
sir, not the Savoy Hotel.
Number three, then, Mr Zimmerman.
And eight for you, Dr Burt.
- It's nine o'clock, sir. - Green.
Yes, green.
Can I see a lunch menu?
Er, chef's been in bed for three days
with a...a tricky germ.
I can do you some bread and cheese.
Would you like me to take a look at him?
No. He'll be as right as ninepence by tomorrow.
Well, that depends how ill he is, surely.
Poor Mr Stone.
Do tell him to get well soon from me.
Miss Percehouse! When did you meet Archie?
Last week.
I sought him out in the kitchen for the secret of souffle.
Ah, yeah. Yeah, he does a nice souffle.
- Bellhop! - Eh?
He means Porter.
Oh! I'll show you up myself, gentlemen.
Mr Kirkwood had a purge of the staff last week.
Yes, I should have done it last year when I took over the place.
They've never been up to my existing standards.
So I'm single-handed at the minute.
Ah, Miss Willett, Mrs Willett. Enjoy your bird-watching.
- Thank you. Good morning. - Morning.
Do wear something more life-enhancing at dinner.
You're verging on beige.
You are brave.
If our feathered friends can stand the cold, then so can I.
No, being out there with a prisoner on the loose.
- What prisoner? - Didn't you hear the bell last night?
Dartmoor Prison. A convict escaped.
Oh, well. He'll have far more important things
to think about than interfering with me.
See you this evening, Violet.
Don't mooch around all day. Find something to do.
I'll try.
Good morning.
I shall inform Mr Enderby you're here, madam.
Thank you.
Exhampton.
Good morning I'm calling to
confirm a reservation in the name of Airwell.
Frank Airwell.
Your very finest room.
Just for tonight, that's correct.
PM HEALTH - RUMOURS DENIED
Who were Jim's parents?
They worked for Trevelyan as gardener and parlour maid.
Both died on a servants' outing to Weymouth,
in a boating tragedy.
And he had the best of everything
with Trevelyan as his guardian.
Toys. School. University. A helping hand through life.
Naturally.
Have you met him?
Once or twice.
I used to be close to a neighbour of his in Devon
before I met Jim.
Raymond West, the novelist.
I adore his stuff, don't you?
I'll um... I'll have Ahmed bring the car round.
- I'm driving myself. - Oh. If you're sure.
- Ow! - Careful.
Before you go, Captain,
you're about the same size as Raymond in the arms.
Would you mind?
Bend your elbow.
Thank you.
Is that a Mrs Herbert Stevens?
Um...
Ask John, he's the gardener.
- Goodbye, Miss Marple. - Goodbye.
Perhaps we'll have a chance to chat properly tomorrow.
What shall I tell the PM's secretary if he calls again?
Say er...the situation will resolve itself...
..soon.
You're a good chap, John.
What are you up to, Charles?
You didn't meet me at Ascot.
I've never been to the royal enclosure.
The parade ring, then.
I wasn't at Ascot this year. And I'm sure you weren't.
I want to meet Trevelyan and talk to him...for work.
You're a journalist.
Stop the car.
No, I won't. We might get stuck.
I said stop the car.
God.
Where did you get that from?
My handbag. Daddy gave it to me for my 21st.
You were saying?
I'm after an interview with Trevelyan.
Reptile.
I hate journalists.
Just hold on. I want to know the truth about Trevelyan.
Well, you're not using me to do it.
Why don't you like journalists?
Is it because of Daddy's troubles?
All that black market stuff in the war.
And the insurance claim.
Ooh, and that extraordinary party he threw in Biarritz
with the Windsors and the gendarmes.
You can't print that!
Not in the Gazette - but I can
take it to one of the sensational Sundays.
I need to make a splash, Emily, one way or another.
Drive on?
Drive on.
- Doesn't bother you? - No.
My friend, Miss Hartnell, is always letting her canary out.
Can't think where Clive's got to.
How did you come to work for Captain Trevelyan?
I owe him my life.
He rescued me from no-man's-land under German fire in 1917.
That's how he won his DSO.
I stayed a soldier until'37.
I was at a bit of a loose end after that, so er...
Anyway, Clive got me to run things here
for him while he was away.
He must be a great friend.
Oh, yeah, he's a...he's a true comrade, Miss Marple.
Though you think you know someone...
- Hm? - Just that I'm typing up his memoirs.
He er...he dictated the final chapter last night.
It's not due at the publisher's for another six weeks.
Ah.
Good.
Where is he, then?
James?
- I want to see him. Where's he? - The captain's not here.
- Well, where the bugger is he? - Language! Lady.
Don't mind me.
People can so easily forget themselves when they're cross.
Does, er, the captain know a Mr Frank Airwell by any chance?
Um...Airwell? Er, no, never heard of him.
And...is there a hotel in Exhampton?
Yes, yes, the Three Crowns.
- Why? - I think you'll find he's staying there tonight.
I've just walked from Exhampton.
It took two hours. Are you sure?
- Oh, yes. - Right, right.
Captain Trevelyan, if only you'd given some warning,
you could have had my very very best room.
- Mr Kirkwood. - Yes, Captain.
Frank Airwell is a figment of my imagination.
Eh?
Oh!
- Avoiding the press. - Precisely.
Honoured to have you stay, sir.
There's no fire in the room, sir.
But the coal man couldn't get through on account of the snow.
I've been in some cold places in my time.
Usually managed to keep warm.
I bet. And there's a slight shortage of dinner,
now I think of it.
Clive!
Evadne!
How are the birds?
Oh... all flutter and plumage, you know.
- You're staying? - Mm-hm.
- How very exciting. - I'll see you at dinner.
Er, number one then, Captain.
I'll just get your bag, sir.
Come on!
- I'm trying my best, sir. - Well, try harder.
There's slaughter in LA tonight.
I wanna smell the blood.
Now it's time for your favourite, sir.
I'm gonna turn the other cheek tonight.
We interrupt this programme to issue a police warning.
The convict who escaped from Dartmoor Prison last night
is now believed to be in the vicinity of Exhampton.
He is described as dangerous
and should not be approached under any circumstances.
- If you'd just like to sign there Mr..? - Smith.
Smith?
Jones, then.
- Oh, Jones. - Smith-Jones.
- With a hyphen. - And no luggage, Mr Smith-Jones.
Foolishly, I left my suitcase on the train.
Mr Kirkwood!
My spectacles. I've mislaid them.
Was that Captain Trevelyan signing the register?
Oh, yes, yes. Clive's a regular guest.
So, number four then, Mr Smith-Jones.
Follow me.
- Trevelyan's here? - Yes.
D-d-do you know him, sir?
I've never heard of him.
Sittaford House.
Hello?
Reptile.
Don't let me down, Emily.
- Miss Trefusis. What a surprise. - Thank you.
I'm looking for Jim. Is he here?
He was here. He went down to Exhampton to find the captain.
- Hell! - I'm Charles Burnaby, Emily's cousin.
Very, very distant cousin.
And a very, very chivalrous one.
I came to her rescue, didn't I?
Emily!
Miss Marple.
- Is Raymond here? - No.
Ahmed?
I have been ensuring everything is secure outside.
May I retire for the night?
I have a headache.
Yes, yes, we can manage.
Well, come along in.
Get yourselves warm. I've not known weather like this.
What was that about?
Manners, Harry.
Starting before the rest of us.
THE THREE CROWN
- Oh, no more for me, Clive. - Are you sure?
Oh, well...the merest soupcon.
You're so persuasive.
Miss Willett.
Er, no, no, no, no. She'll stick to water.
Otherwise her face will flush and that's not pleasant sight,
is it, Violet?
Captain, honestly. What do you think of her new dress?
I think it's delightful.
If it wasn't for that brooch of mine
that she borrowed without so much as a by-your-leave,
I don't know what she'd look like.
Not that it goes with her grandmother's earrings.
Ah, Miss Percehouse.
Your usual table?
Have you found my spectacles yet?
Sorry, no. Have you checked the bar area?
Mr Kirkwood,
would you set up a table after dinner for the Ouija board?
- Mother, no - Don't be so tiresome.
Contacting spirits on night like tonight would be exciting.
Don't you think so, Captain?
- Why not? - Why not indeed.
Shall I inform the other guests?
Oh, do.
Let us tune ourselves to the mysterious ether.
A Mr Zimmerman, sir. He says would you join him for a drink.
Excuse me. This won't take long.
You've got a bloody nerve coming down here.
You don't know why I'm here yet.
I know you had my flat broken into.
The hell I did.
You owe me.
All I want is your signature.
And if I don't?
Don't push me.
We'll both fall.
- And what do you do, Mr Burnaby? - I write a little.
Fiction or nonfiction?
- Fiction. - Hm? You must be so clever.
Like my nephew Raymond.
The neighbour you met Captain Trevelyan through?
Yes, we were briefly engaged. Try a piece of this.
Mmm!
Have you met Jim, Mr Burnaby,
Emily's most recent fiance?
In passing. I'm thrilled for Emily.
It's about time she settled down.
I'm glad we're in here and not out there.
You must pick up fascinating titbits on political grapevine.
- Ah... - I expect that's confidential, Charles.
Harry?
Oh. Poor chap's dead.
Don't eat that!
That came this morning. It was meant for Clive.
An impertinent wine from an insolent cellar.
One has to hand it to Clive though.
He keeps some exceptional vintages up at the house.
I was hoping to have tried them one day.
What a beautiful blue.
Just like your eyes - if they weren't brown.
Oh, good. Come along, Violet.
No, no, no, no, no, no. Don't go. I value your opinion.
Yours too.
What would you do to a man
who took in a poor little orphan boy...
..and told him he was the apple of his eye,
and then, just because
he made a few mistakes with work and money,
threatened to cut the apple out of his will
and even deny sending the letter?
What would you do to a man like that?
What would you do?
Who knows?
You don't really believe all this nonsense, do you?
Hey, I knew a guy in Oakland once.
He saw the ghost of his brother... before he even died.
Let us take our positions.
Yes, Captain, why don't you sit here?
Evadne.
Come next to me if you're nervous.
Thank you. I'm not nervous in the slightest degree.
I belong to Psychical Research Society. Lyme Regis branch.
Oh.
The lights, please, Mr Kirkwood.
Let us make contact with the spirits.
Are we all receptive?
For what we are about to receive, may the Lord make us...
truly grateful?
Is anybody there?
Are we in the presence of a spirit?
Yes.
Do you have a message?
Yes.
Spirit, what is the message?
Spirit, what is your message?
D.
E.
A.
T.
H. Death.
If I stay on the move, keep to the road,
I should reach Exhampton in two hours.
Two hours?!
You'll freeze. When I'm in St Moritz we never...
We're not talking about
swishing around on the piste having jolly super fun.
Why won't you wait until morning?
Perhaps the telephone will be working again.
If Clive's in danger, I must warn him.
What's a few feet of snow?
Good luck, sir.
T.
O.
N.
l.
G.
H.
- T. - Tonight.
- Ask it who? - Oh, God, no. Please don't.
- Are you sure? - I insist.
Spirit, who will die?
Speak.
Oh! What was that?
- No. No. No. Don't be so jumpy. - I'll go and see.
No, Captain. No, no, no, Captain.
It's nothing. It's just these old houses.
I'll go and take a look, Mr Trevelyan, to be on the safe side.
Everyone, please. We must not lose contact with the spirits.
Well spoken.
We are privileged guests in another world.
Let us not abuse its hospitality.
Tell us who will die.
T.
R.
E. V. E.
L.
It's me.
The lights! What's happening?
Is everyone all right?
Don't panic, it's just a power cut. That's all.
Could you supply some sort of light, Mr Kirkwood?
Still dead.
- What are you doing? - I'm going after Enderby.
I'm sure he'll manage. One hero's enough.
I've no idea where she gets her sarcastic streak from.
It's not my side of the family.
He's not a young man and I can't wait here,
drinking cocoa while he's out there.
So, I turn right at the end of the lane
for the Exhampton Road, do I?
And straight on. He's had quite a start on you.
I'm pretty fit. I'll catch him up.
Be careful, Mr Burnaby.
Bring the cocoa, will you?
It's how the Turkish Delight came.
It's postmarked Exhampton.
The forwarding address is the Women's Institute there.
- What about the note? - It's plain, unheaded.
For his recent talk on Women At Westminster.
But who sent it?
Perhaps whoever broke into the Captain's flat in London.
Certainly someone who knew it was his favourite.
Was Raymond terribly upset when I broke off the engagement?
After he introduced me to Jim.
Yes.
But, as I pointed out, his novels are
full of that sort of thing and much worse.
Do you often call Cousin Charles"Mr Burnaby"?
If you must know...
I met him yesterday, through Jim.
Sort of.
He said he wanted to help.
He's a journalist
All he really wanted was to get close to Captain Trevelyan.
How unscrupulous.
But rather clever, don't you think?
That, too.
Time, Doc.
Do I have to do this?
You want to stay on the payroll, Doc,
you gotta turn your hand to some of this and some of that.
You get it?
I got it.
Emily?
Oh, do put that away, please.
I was just closing the window.
It's been banging like anything.
If I was the nervous sort,
I'd say there was evil in this house.
The house is bricks and mortar.
If there's evil, it's in someone's heart.
It's me!
Burnaby!
Never creep up on an old soldier.
I wasn't creeping!
Damn it, man. I might have killed you.
Come on, Burnaby.
Come on.
Yeah, all right. All right. I'm coming.
I'm coming. I'm coming.
Mr Enderby!
Where's the Captain?
He's in bed, Mr Enderby. Everyone is.
Well, was. Sir!
Everything all right?
Go back to bed, Archie. Keep your strength up.
Chef. Got a tricky germ.
Follow me.
Captain Trevelyan?
Sittaford House?
Yes, Mr Burnaby.
Oh, no.
The poor man.
No. No, no. I see. I see. Thank you.
Mr Enderby?
Constable Narracott's sister says he's stuck in Plymouth.
His sergeant's away on honeymoon
and all roads to Exhampton are blocked.
There's...
There's just no police.
Well, that won't do.
I was a Special Constable during the war.
Will you accept my authority, Kirkwood?
- Erm... - Good man.
Right. When the guests get up,
give them breakfast, as usual.
Don't say what's happened.
I must ask you to step out of earshot
while I call Westminster
and inform the powers that be of a national tragedy.
In normal circumstances, I'd come with you, but...
I have cleared the path for you, miss.
Are you sure you don't wish me to accompany you?
No, thank you.
- Did Charles mention Jim? - I'm afraid not.
Why did the Captain not return last night?
It's all a mystery, at the moment, Mr Ghali.
I shall pray for his soul.
Look at this.
It's a champagne glass.
He had a visitor, then.
Though Clive never drank champagne.
What's that?
One of his Egyptian souvenirs.
It was the scorpion he cherished most.
Though why he had it with him.
He's smiling, don't you think?
It's only postmortem rictus. The grin of death.
Was the window open or closed?
Er, it was closed. Closed. There was no fire.
The room was cold.
This is Pearson's.
He departed this life no earlier than eleven,
no later than midnight.
Shall we, erm,
shift him into the garage, while guests are having breakfast?
We should pack snow around the body to prevent leakage.
Morning.
The cards were right.
Violet
Shut up!
Was that necessary?
Yes.
Poor, poor man.
It's such a loss to the nation.
Let alone to those of us who were fortunate enough
to bask personally in the warmth of his smile.
Quite.
This is yours, isn't it?
Oh, yes. So it is. Thanks.
Where were you between eleven and midnight?
Me? I was in my room.
Alone?
No, I was with a bottle of port.
He as good as told Clive he'd kill him at dinner.
I wasn't serious.
Did anyone else witness this threat?
I heard him. So did Dr Burt.
- This is madness. - Sit down.
- You've no authority here. - I have assumed authority.
Let me go.
Have it your way, then.
You have no authority here, Enderby.
Let me out or I'll sue you for false imprisonment.
You're staying in custody until I find out the truth.
Custody? It's a larder, you oaf!
Emily!
- Emily! - Is that Jim?
I'm afraid so, Miss Trefusis.
He's hurt. Let him out at once.
- I can't do that. - What?
I'm not saying he did it. I'm not saying he didn't.
But until I find out one way or another, he stays in there.
I'm innocent!
Of course you are, my darling, and I'll prove it.
- I love you Emily. - I love you too.
- You're wonderful. You promise? - I promise you.
What the hell is going on?
Ah, yes. Erm...
I have requisitioned your larder, Mr Stone.
How am I meant to get lunch?
Well, what do you need?
Ingredients.
The front door and back door were both locked and bolted.
I made sure of it, what with that...
..escaped convict out there.
- What about the cellar? - I keep it padlocked.
I've checked and it's still secure.
- Are you sure about that? - Yeah.
Yeah. Quite sure. No-one could have got in that way.
Then the killer was already in the hotel.
One thing.
I was doing my rounds and er...
Well, I saw that Dr Burt going up on the roof.
Stargazing.
I need a hobby, with Mr Zimmerman so demanding.
- A personal doctor? - He can afford it.
And I can't afford not to.
I refused to join this National Health Service on principle.
If you can't offer the doctor a shilling,
then you shouldn't get ill.
Did you have a good view from the roof?
I could only see outside.
Shall I attempt an autopsy on the deceased?
There's kitchen knives.
Nutcrackers could be handy.
After that weird stuff with the Ouija board...
Spooked me, I can tell you.
The Captain and I were in his room.
We had business interests.
Anglo-American Holdings. Heard of them?
Well, I needed him to sign a document.
Then we said good night and went to bed.
Your room was on the same floor.
Did you hear anything?
Sure I did.
A dame screaming somewhere.
I certainly didn't hear a scream.
Nowhere at all. Definitely nowhere.
Why exactly are you staying here, Mr...Smith-Jones?
I...
I couldn't get in anywhere else.
There is nowhere else in Exhampton.
But, honestly, no scream.
There was a terrible scream.
I opened my door to see, but...
without my spectacles...
I'm almost certain I saw Mrs Willett.
Erm... Why are you in Exhampton, Miss Percehouse?
The air in Devon is so good for me, my doctor says.
Better than the air in Lyme Regis?
Well...
there's more of it.
Somehow.
It was bad enough
losing my bird-watching haversack on the moor earlier.
And then Violet in that awful new dress
that clashed with my brooch and those old earrings.
And Mr Pearson.
And then the spirit foretelling Clive's tragic death.
Oh, it was a dreadful day.
Dreadful!
I had to take a sleeping pill.
So, you slept through until the morning, then?
Yes.
Unfortunately, madam, you were seen in the corridor.
Oh, no, I thought I'd got over that.
Over what? Sleepwalking.
Sleepwalking? Sleepwalking.
Yes. When she's cold
and when she gets upset about my father's death.
I think it's wonderful that she's developed
this interest in bird-watching. I think it helps her.
Sorry.
Can I go now, please?
No!
The champagne is most interesting.
And two glasses? One of them in the bathroom?
Broken. Hm.
And the rose.
I wonder...how long Miss Percehouse has been a member
of her Psychical Research Society,
Lyme Regis branch, where the air is so scant.
Mind you...
..it would be easy to manipulate the glass
to frighten someone present, wouldn't it?
What rose, Miss Marple?
When Captain Trevelyan went out to do what he did all day
before arriving at the Three Crowns,
he'd cut himself...a Mrs Herbert Stevens.
Damn.
The variety is not important,
but I do so like those fringe double winter repeaters, don't you?
But I gathered it was unusual for him to wear a buttonhole.
He wanted to look his best.
And champagne for two?
Perhaps a woman is involved.
A woman? Trevelyan?
People are full of surprises, Mr Burnaby, don't you agree?
Well, he is a slippery customer.
I wouldn't put anything past him.
Cigarette, Charles?
No, thanks. I don't.
Did, erm,
Captain Trevelyan actually tell Mr Pearson
he had cut him out of his will?
He hinted at it.
- Well hinted that he might - Oh?
He doesn't seem to have done.
This is his will.
It is Mr Pearson who inherits the vast bulk of the estate.
Who else benefits?
Only Mr Enderby.
A small bequest.
Two hundred pounds and the Captain's war medal.
What?
Nothing. For the moment.
When Captain Trevelyan took leave of
his oldest friend yesterday,
it was...
It was somehow final.
As if he knew he would never see Mr Enderby again.
He had booked his room in the name of Frank Airwell.
I don't see.
F Airwell.
Farewell.
Yes.
It's as if he knew he was going to die,
just as the cards had predicted.
Possibly.
I found these airline tickets
in Captain Trevelyan's things.
He was planning to leave the country today.
For Buenos Aires.
Buenos Aires?
He had two seats booked.
One in his own name and one for Mrs Trevelyan.
Mrs Trevelyan?
We believe that yesterday he married
and, today, he would have gone on honeymoon with his bride,
who was with him last night in his room.
I... I...
Yes?
I find it so hard to believe.
Hard?
Is it hard to believe that two ships
adrift in an ocean of loneliness
could rope themselves together
and steer a true course to the island of dreams,
guided by the twinkling stars
and smiled upon by heaven?
Yes, Violet, you were going to have a daddy again.
And now, twice widowed,
my last chance of happiness gone forever.
Excuse me.
Thank you, Ahmed,
for reaching these down...
for me.
Oh, and a fire.
You think of everything, almost before one asks.
Thank you, madam.
Here we go.
The bathroom is through here, Miss Trefusis.
I'm afraid the, er,
the geyser is out of order, so if you want some hot water,
I'll have to bring it up to you.
Your, er, cousin,
could put that screen between the beds for privacy.
Thank you. We'll manage.
By the way,
do you happen to know if Mr Zimmerman's a farmer?
Last night, I heard him talking to that doctor about rams.
Rams? No idea.
Thanks for the clean shirt.
Thought I'd mention it.
It's horrid.
The bed is lumpy.
Change your mind, then,
and have Trevelyan's room and I'll stay here.
Why don't you offer to have Trevelyan's room?
I don't want to sleep in a dead man's bed.
Nor do I.
Well, then, we're stuck together, aren't we?
Do you snore?
No-one's ever told me.
You've missed a button.
Have I?
Come in.
I've something to show you.
It's a marriage certificate.
I'm Mrs Clive Trevelyan.
I wore a blue hair ribbon.
Earrings dress brooch.
Something old, Something new.
Last summer, when we first stayed here,
Mother disappeared, bird-watching.
I wandered into the lounge
and there was a coffee morning for Conservative Association.
Forgive me.
What's your name?
Violet.
Violet?
So very beautiful.
Me?
- I once... - What?
I once thought I'd never find happiness ever again.
He invited my mother and me to tea at Sittaford House.
I only went once.
I felt...a presence.
A presence?
Clive laughed it off.
But there was something.
Why didn't you tell your mother?
You've met her.
We used to see each other at his London flat.
Last month, he proposed
and yesterday we went to Exeter Registry Office and married.
The Argentine is a long way for a honeymoon.
I didn't know.
When he said to bring my passport,
I thought France, perhaps.
What happened last night?
I went to him.
Oh, my beautiful wife.
I was getting ready
and I heard someone come into the bedroom.
- Did you hear who it was? - No.
Just murmuring and... I heard a cough.
I smelt a cigarette.
I waited for Clive to come and tell me the coast was clear.
When he didn't, I went out.
And there he was.
The strange thing is he had a smile on his face.
Did the Captain ever mention his will, Mrs Trevelyan?
We visited his solicitor yesterday to change it.
I inherit everything.
What a rascally rascal!
But it's good news, in a way, though.
If I don't get a penny,
I don't have a motive thingy for killing him, do I?
- I'm not sure that follows. - I hope it does.
What's going to happen to me, to us?
Chin up. I'll think of something.
Can you let me out?
Just for one kiss?
I mustn't.
Sorry to disturb you, but have you seen the chef?
- Why? - I want to make a complaint.
About his custard.
Do you understand women?
No.
I thought I understood men, but apparently not.
What's your considered view of Elizabeth, Miss Percehouse?
I invited her to a concert next week, but she said no.
Elgar.
Well, he's jolly good.
It wasn't that. She just doesn't seem to want to know me.
What do you think I should do?
I think you should start telling me what you're doing here.
It doesn't matter any more.
My name is Donald Garfield.
An officially-authorised Whitehall dirt digger.
Trevelyan could have been Prime Minister,
so I was ordered to sniff out any skeletons
in his constituency cupboard.
It didn't need both of you.
Not that your company is, in any way, unpleasant.
Miss Trefusis.
What do you want?
I have some information.
Well?
I need you to lend me some money.
On a permanent basis.
If you've information, Doctor, then I think...
What's a pound between friends, eh?
I hope it's worth it.
I always give good value.
I wasn't stargazing, last night, on the roof.
What were you doing?
Getting news of slaughter in Los Angeles.
The Rams drawing blood.
in balmy blue skies here in sunny Los Angeles
and the Rams have the Yanks in trouble
that's our man Brocklin storming down the line!
This is fantastic! What a run!
What a run! He passes...
They're scoring deep! They're scoring deep!
Mr Zimmerman made me lie to you.
"Made" you, Doctor?
If, indeed, you are a doctor.
I'm his creature.
And, no,
I'm not quite a doctor, any more.
I was struck off the Medical Register
for professional misconduct.
What sort?
Least said, soonest mended, I find.
But now I have to turn a penny from every available source.
Was it drugs?
I've forgotten.
Those capsules you give him, what are they?
A shilling a dozen to me and a shilling each to him.
Coloured water.
It keeps the stupid Yank happy and it pays my rent.
But it's never quite enough for extras.
Wake Mr Enderby.
And so it was that in 1926...
I prepared to embark on a journey
to the mysterious land of Egypt.
What the hell's this?
This is the hotel register.
You said you were in Captain Trevelyan's room
and he signed something.
May we compare signatures?
Get the hell out of my room!
Or you could wait
until the police arrive in the morning, if you'd prefer?
My fiance is under suspicion for a murder he didn't commit.
l won't stand for any more lies.
- I wasn't in his room. - We know.
You were listening to a football game.
Look he wasn't cooperating last night,
so I thought I'll see him at breakfast,
but he was dead meat.
So, you had to forge his signature?
Yeah.
What was this document?
A statement by Trevelyan
exonerating me of any wrongdoing with the TX75 scandal.
TX75? TX75?
What?
A naval artillery shell.
Had a habit of exploding before it left the barrel.
Killed thousands of American sailors...
62, by the end of the war.
Trevelyan and I owned the company who made it.
Those shells were knowingly manufactured substandard
to cream off an extra profit.
He got the cream!
I got the two-cent deposit,
because he's out of the picture now.
In a week,
the spit hits the fan with a Congressional Inquiry.
Buenos Aires is a wonderful honeymoon spot.
No extradition treaty.
Enderby!
Enderby, dear boy, come here! Ghost!
You're very noisy today.
What do you want?
Will you please tell Mr Enderby that I would like to confess?
In your own words.
It was me.
That moved the glass that spelled out'death' to Trevelyan.
I'm not interested in mumbo-jumbo parlour-game nonsense!
I want to know who killed Clive.
Well, not me. I don't inherit anything, do I?
I can tell you something, though.
Last night I overheard
Archie Stone, the chef,
and Kirkwood.
They must have forgotten that I was in solitary confinement,
with nothing to drink, save for a bottle of cooking sherry.
Anyway the chef is planning to scarper after dinner.
If you're looking for the killer he's your man.
It's true, Emily.
You wouldn't know the truth if it hit you in the face!
You repaid Clive's kindness
with an utter lack of responsibility.
If you think you can lie your way out of this one,
you've got another think coming!
Jim overheard them Stone is making a run for it tonight.
- Charlie doesn't believe him. - I didn't say that.
Do you, Emily?
What a silly question! Of course I do.
You must be exhausted, the pair of you, and freezing.
I'll heat some soup.
Oh, I'll go and change. That place is dreadfully dirty.
Coal dust in the register.
I think she's having second thoughts about Jim.
Oh?
I suspect he did overhear something.
Perhaps it wasn't what it seemed.
- No, I meant... - Second thoughts about them?
- The engagement, you mean? - Yes.
Of course I feel sorry, if that's upsetting her,
but I can't help...
I've never met a girl quite like Emily.
I doubt she's ever met a young man quite like you.
I know it was a rotten trick, the way I got myself into this,
but I can honestly say,
I've stopped worrying about Trevelyan.
It's Emily that matters now.
"17th May, 1927. Cairo.
Stifling, but then I'm stifled in England.
Lack of funds, though I have met a chap
who needs a favour on the quiet."
Twas between the pages.
"He could be the answer to my problem."
Look at this.
It's the same place.
It's a woman, isn't it, next to him?
I wonder who she is
and what she meant to Trevelyan.
British afternoon tea. Great tradition.
It feels like the war, doesn't it, Elizabeth?
But...less fun.
Does anyone know if that convict's been recaptured?
I think we're safe.
One look at this joint
and he'd beg to be back in his cosy little cell.
Thankfully, the tenacious Mr Enderby
is on the killer's trail.
I overheard him talking to Miss Marples, at Sittaford House
and it's all to do with Egypt
and a scorpion's curse.
Egypt?
What scorpion?
More hot water, Miss Trefusis?
Just leave it outside, Mr Kirkwood, please.
I said, leave it outside.
Charles?
Thank goodness for the bubbles.
Thank goodness.
Time you should be outside,
if Stone's going to make a run for it.
Five minutes. I need to make some notes for my scoop.
You don't think Jim is lying about Stone, do you?
No.
So, tell me about your family. Brothers? Sisters?
Only child. West Norwood.
Mother died when I was three.
And your father?
They separated early on. I never knew him.
He only died recently, I heard.
Be an angel and pass me the loofah, would you?
- Who brought you up? - Nuns.
- Strict? - They had the devil in them.
- In West Norwood? - So to speak.
But I stood up for myself.
It was they who said that we should confront the devil.
So I did.
Gave them hell.
- You need hot. - Leave it. I'll do it.
No, Charles Charles.
Slower.
- Like that? - Perfect.
Now go.
Keep warm up there.
We have to make a run for it!
Hurry up!
Drive like the wind, darling.
The murder squad will be here by morning.
Your chef has just run off with one of your guests
and you don't care?
i'm beyond caring.
Miss Trefusis says can you meet her in room one?
Captain Trevelyan's, as was.
Oh, and have you seen the doc?
it's just that... Mrs Zimmerman can't find him.
lt's a...a sacred gold scorpion
of the Zekhens - pre-dynastic pharaohs.
Three years ago, a hitherto unknown Zekhen tomb
was excavated,
close to where Captain Trevelyan was stationed in 1927.
But it had been looted of all its treasures,
including the scorpion.
Your friend was an ambitious young man
and he would have needed money
to establish himself in the political world.
A great deal of it.
Do I shock you?
Er... Sadly, Miss Marple, no longer.
No. But what's the scorpion to do
with Clive's murder,however he acquired it?
Well, it um...
it brings a curse on those who would disturb the dead king.
- You don't believe that. - Hardly, Mr Enderby.
But er...perhaps the killer hoped we would.
Of course, Mr Ghali is the person to ask about Egypt.
Ahmed Ghali
and his accomplice.
Good Lord!
Percehouse was my maiden name.
I was married to an archaeologist.
Arthur Hopkins.
In 1927, he was attached to the Cairo Museum
and determined to prove himself.
But he disappeared.
When the tomb was discovered three years ago,
so was his body.
He'd been shot.
I travelled to Egypt to excavate the facts
where I met Ahmed.
So some good came out of this sad business.
I was honoured to be of assistance in establishing the truth.
I believe in retribution.
We agreed Captain Trevelyan should die.
You secured employment in this house
in order to kill Clive?
Yes. May I say I regret the death of your hawk.
Damn the hawk! You would have poisoned Clive!
The telephone wasn't working because you disconnected it.
To prevent help being called if Clive'd eaten Turkish Delight
as you'd intended.
And then you reconnected it in the morning.
Then somehow you found out he was at the hotel
and you went and stabbed him.
No!
- Elizabeth. - I don't think so.
Mr Ghali had no idea the captain was at the Three Crowns.
Though you saw him there, much to your surprise.
Yes, I...I tried to telephone Ahmed,
but of course, the line was dead.
So...I waited.
And I went to the captain's room.
Elizabeth, let me take the blame.
I went to his room to kill him.
Because he killed my husband.
Except it wasn't his room.
Without my spectacles, I'm afraid it was Mr Smith-Jones
who had an unexpected visitor and...
...then courage failed me.
But the gods still smiled.
He is dead.
How did you know it was the captain who killed your husband?
Arthur's final letter said he'd discovered
the location of a Zekhen tomb,
but needed help to prove it
And he'd found the very man.
The museum still had some of his things.
This amongst them.
Arthur and Trevelyan.
But who's the woman?
Arthur's sister.
Violet.
Violet?
She was so upset and...
considering her condition...
- Her condition? - Yes.
She was pregnant.
So we're in his room. How do you want me?
Smiling.
Trevelyan was smiling.
It wasn't just a death grin.
Violet saw him right after he'd been killed.
Something made him smile.
Can I stop now? My face is killing me.
The plumbing in this place! I...
..hate dripping taps!
You're so very beautiful.
There's something...up here.
Dr Burt?
Dr Burt!
Doc! Doc where are you?
Doc!
Dr Burt?
Doc! Burt!
Doc where are you?
- Doc! - Pearsson!
Doc!
- You evil son of a... - No!
I only wish they could hang you twice over.
No! No!
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. No!
No! No!
No!
- It's horrible. - I know. I know.
Look, Burt must have seen Jim
go into Trevelyan's room to kill him,
last night he went to the kitchen to blackmail him over it.
I suppose with the drink and a handy weapon...
I always knew that Jim's temper would somehow...
Darling! I'm innocent! I'm innocent!
Get your hands off me! Darling!
Get your filthy hands off me!
I'm innocent! Darling, do something!
No!
Emily!
What am I going to do now?
Can you trust a reptile?
Yes.
Then you'll be fine.
Mr Kirkwood, my mother's not in her room
and her things are gone.
- Where is she? - Plymouth police station.
She was picked up last night in her car.
She was running away with Archie Stone.
- Your chef? - Not exactly.
Eh, Mr Kirkwood?
Not even roughly, Miss Willett.
Archie Stone...is my cousin.
His real name's Harold Wells. No.46329.
Frequent guest of Her Majesty at Dartmoor Prison.
He and your mother...
met when he was last outside, and er...
..couldn't keep their hands off each other.
So to speak.
They got me to buy this place a year ago so that...
..so that their hearts could beat as one again.
Excuse me.
Mr Kirkwood and Mrs Willett
have been charged with aiding and abetting.
Her so-called bird-watching trips on Dartmoor
were actually a cover for her visiting her lover in prison.
To plan his escape,
and so she could find a hiding place
for the change of clothes
she'd leave for him in her haversack
So that's why Kirkwood dismissed the staff,
including the real chef, the real Archie Stone.
Yes. But Miss Percehouse saw him briefly in the kitchen,
so Mr Kirkwood stole her spectacles
just in case she glimpsed the impostor.
Pretty ingenious plan.
Not nearly as ingenious as the killer's.
I'd hardly call Jim Pearson ingenious.
- Wouldn't you? - Well, no.
Nor would I.
Bu I don't believe Jim Pearson was the killer.
You put your finger on it, Mr Burnaby
It was hardly ingenious to chase the captain from London
and threaten him in front of witnesses
All Violet heard was murmuring, not drunken anger,
and someone coughing
as they lit a cigarette.
Jim's lighter was there, of course
but I think it was stolen to implicate him.
But all the lights went out after the Ouija cards.
- Someone could have taken it then. - Do you think so?
And those boots up the chimney...
Emily and I have been racking our brains over those,
haven't we, darling?
- Are they important? - I believe so.
- How? - I'll come to that.
He was...such a centre of attention that night,
Captain Trevelyan, wasn't he?
Zimmerman desperate for his signature.
Violet Willett about to spend her wedding night with him,
her mother hanging on every word.
Mr Smith-Jones-Garfield snooping.
Jim terrified he was going to be disinherited.
Miss Percehouse nursing vengeance in her bosom.
Not to mention your concern, Mr Enderby,
at the attempted poisoning of your dearest comrade.
If Jim was innocent, then I'm terribly sorry, Miss Marple,
I'm hopelessly confused. Aren't you, darling?
Pretty much so, yes.
So did the scorpion...Egypt,
have anything to do with why he was killed or not?
It had everything to do with it,
as I learned last night from Miss Percehouse.
It was in Egypt Captain Trevelyan chose course of action
that would result in his death 25 years later.
But it wasn't the murder of Arthur Hopkins.
In a way, it was.
Hopkins had a sister.
Her name was Violet also.
An I believe Violet Willett
reminded the captain so very strongly of Violet Hopkins
that he believed he'd been granted
a second chance of happiness.
A second chance?
What happened to Violet Hopkins?
Having killed her brother, the captain chose to...
abandon her and return to England
knowing she was pregnant with his child
Her family disowned her and threw her out on the street.
She died three years later, worn out by sickness
and poverty and the squalor...
..of a Cairo slum.
What happened to the child?
The child grew up intelligent and resourceful, Emily.
Most ingenious.
But he carried inside him a deep hatred of his father
and a burning desire for justice.
He?
That's why...he came to Sittaford House.
It was you, Charles.
It was you who broke into Clive's flat
and took a sheet of his paper
to forge that letter to James.
Not only did you plan to kill your own father,
but you were determined to implicate James,
who'd been handed your birthright.
How frustrating for you to find the captain wasn't there
when you arrived.
If it hadn't been for the attempted poisoning
and Mr Enderby setting off through the snow to Exhampton...
But it took two hours to get to Exhampton.
We arrived together at about midnight.
The captain had only been dead for no longer than an hour.
You would have noticed the skis
when you settled in your room here.
Skis? Mm.
It might take two hours on foot in the snow to Exhampton,
but with skis, it's downhill all the way.
Those boots were ski boots.
Before you so bravely decided to accompany Mr Enderby,
you threw what you needed out of the window.
But neglected to close it in your haste.
Which later gave Emily and me a rather disturbed night.
I'm pretty fit. I'll catch him up.
Of course you would.
After you'd killed the captain.
I am right aren't I?
You retrieved the skis and the boots
and once you'd put them on at the top of the hill,
you were ready for murder.
It must have been beautiful.
"All bloodless lay the untrodden snow."
Until you sped down to Exhampton.
Luck was with you when you reached t he Three Crowns.
Except Mr Burt saw you arrive
and would later try to blackmail you.
The cellar was unlocked.
Mr Kirkwood had left it open f or Harold Wells to get in
while everyone was at the Ouija session
which Mrs Willett had enthusiastically arranged.
You got in that way then up to reception.
Identified which room was the captain's,
smudging the hotel register with coal dust
from the cellar in your haste
..and went to murder him.
Who are you?
It's a wise father that knows his own son.
I knew...one day.
You lit a cigarette.
Not a smoker yourself you couldn't help coughing
with Jim's lighter which you must have
taken from him in London
and placed the scorpion,
as a finishing touch.
Then you remembered the ski boots,
your shoes.
You circled back behind Mr Enderby,
as if you'd just caught him up
and then arrived with him at the hotel
to discover...a murder.
You couldn't possibly have committed.
Last night, Mr Burt tried to blackmail you.
You agreed to pay him and suggested meeting in the kitchen.
When he kept the rendezvous...
you killed him,
in cold blood, so Jim Pearson
could be blamed for a second murder.
Pretending to be a journalist
was such a clever way
of explaining your interest in the captain.
Where did you learn to lie so well?
Somewhere between Cairo and here.
Where did you learn to kill?
I was in the Legion.
The Foreign Legion.
Hmph!
There were nuns, Emily,
but not in West Norwood.
My father was the devil.
I had to confront him.
All the sins in the world were his.
And now he's gone,
and we can live again.
You understand.
I hope you are hanged.
Come on.
Buck up.
I shall change...
..and become a forgiving sort of chap.
And I'm 100% prepared to forgive you
for ever thinking that I could become a killer.
And...
I'm more than happy to take you up the aisle.
Jim! I Well I've made other plans.
We both have. And they don't involve men, sadly.
Ready?
I'll send you a postcard from Buenos Aires.
Adios.
He wasn't evil
Not like Charles Burnaby.
Charles was never loved.
Except by his mother...
...so briefly.
Captain Trevelyan was adored.
Violet Hopkins, Violet Willett
..and his friends.
Do you think he loved them?
I'm sure of it.
Sounds like your taxi, Miss Marple.
I'm er...
I'm pleased Violet wants you to stay at Sittaford House.
Yes. Yes, she suggested I get a new bird.
But nothing could replace Harry.