- 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.