Where are they?!
Open this door,
in the name of the people!
Yes, sir.
What do you want at this late hour?
Your son!
No!
Mama!
By order of the commune...
I take orders from no one.
Mama!
I am your queen, Marie Antoinette.
We are to take Louis Charles...
Mama!
You will not lay one finger on him!
For his own safety.
Mama, mama, don't let them take me!
You can't take him.
You can't take him!
Not my boy!
No!
Leave me alone!
Have mercy.
Mama!
Let me go! Please!
Let go of him or we'll kill the lot of you!
Mama!
You can't do this, please, no!
No, not my boy!
Take him away!
Not my baby!
Didn't she look lovely on her way to the guillotine?
Oh yes, lovely.
Imagine going to all that trouble
just to have your head cut off.
Oh, isn't she gorgeous?
It's like a dream, Jane.
My new neighbor, on the silver screen.
It's too thrilling.
It is exciting, isn't it?
Poor Arthur must be spinning in his grave.
I couldn't be happier, really, I couldn't.
Oh, Dolly.
Do you think she'll pop round
for cups of sugar?
Hollywood has come to the home counties.
Movie star Marina Gregg has left the palm trees and glitter
of Los Angeles for the leafy lanes and picturesque villages
of rural England.
Miss Gregg has taken up residence
with her dashing young English husband,
film director Jason Rudd,
at Gossington Hall, St. Mary Mead,
and seems to be loving her new role as lady of the manor.
But it's not all huntin', fishin' and shootin'
for Miss Gregg.
She's hard at work on a new film
after her successful comeback as Marie Antoinette.
This time she's taking on another queen:
the Egyptian beauty Nefertiti.
Yes, Marina Gregg is truly queen of all she surveys.
She's in a very good mood today.
She's been out riding with her husband.
How lovely.
Yes.
She's quite taken to country pursuits.
And what position do you hold, Mr. Preston?
I'm Miss Gregg's exclusive personal assistant.
Your guests, Marina.
Riding makes me feel so alive.
I know exactly what you mean.
Arthur, my late husband,
always got a little frisky after a canter.
Do help yourselves.
Thank you, Miss Gregg.
I love your English tea.
Are you all right, Mrs. Bantry?
Yes, I'm fine, thank you.
Only you're looking at me
rather strangely.
Am I?
Oh, I'm so frightfully sorry.
It must be the shock of seeing you with your head back on.
We had the very great pleasure of seeing you
in Marie Antoinette the other afternoon.
That's a very special movie for us.
It's when we first met.
I hadn't acted for a while.
And I had the privilege of directing her.
I tell you, ladies, I was in awe.
My darling.
Such a gent!
And so young.
Gosh.
Have a scone, Mrs. Bantry.
Yes, please, help yourself.
Let them eat cake!
It must feel quite odd
being back in your old home, Mrs. Bantry.
But it's all so different.
You must think we're the most terrible intruders.
No, not at all.
I'm thrilled you bought it and I adore living in the lodge.
Your coming here is one of the most exciting things
that's ever happened, isn't it, Jane?
Oh, yes, and we're all so looking forward
to the garden party.
Since the sale went through,
I've been traveling all over the place,
seeing my children and grandchildren.
You have children?
Yes.
I have two sons, two daughters,
and nine grandchildren...
so far.
It's great fun being a grandmother.
I wouldn't know.
All the fun
and none of the worry.
It's not too chilly for you,
is it, Miss Marple?
No, Mr. Rudd, thank you.
It's-it's very pleasant.
I'm sure you'll be very happy here, Miss Gregg.
Arthur and I had such good times.
And we will too, won't we, Jason?
Home at last.
What a wonderful feeling.
How do you think she keeps herself looking so young?
Maybe she eats monkey glands.
Maybe it's that cute young husband.
How many has she had now?
This is number five.
It must be very tiring.
Oh, exhausting.
One was enough for me.
Dear old Gossington.
I shan't miss it, you know.
You've made the right decision, Dolly.
This is a lovely little house--
perfectly placed to keep an eye on things.
(loud car horn honking) Yoo-hoo! Hi!
Ooh!
Oh!
Stupid...
Oh, dear.
Oh, that was a nasty spill.
That young man was driving like a mad thing.
I hope you haven't hurt yourself.
I went over on my ankle.
That wretched pothole.
I shall have another word with Councilor Hubbard.
Oh, dear, let me help you.
I'll make you a nice cup of tea.
I don't take sugar, Miss Badcock.
Oh, you must have sugar.
It's good for shock.
I was abroad with the ambulances during the war
and sugar always did the trick.
There now, you get that down, you'll be right as rain.
I'm afraid I've put you to a lot of trouble.
Oh, no, it's no trouble, I can assure you.
What is the use if you can't help each other?
That's what I say.
There.
Were you, um...
were you on your way anywhere in particular, Miss Marple?
I was on my way home, actually, from Gossington Hall.
Gossington Hall?
Yes.
You know Marina Gregg?
I just met her, as a matter of fact.
Well, I never!
It's so exciting that she's chosen
to come and live here, isn't it?
I've always been the most huge fan.
Look what I just bought.
I've been collecting photographs,
magazine articles--
all sorts about her for years.
When I was a teenager,
I used to dream about her.
I'm so excited about the garden party.
Excuse me, sir.
Vinnie, honey...
You're reading your article again?
I just can't help myself, pumpkin.
Oh, you're such a clever boy.
Uh-uh.
Not the hair.
What say we take a spin in the country
this weekend?
Oh, Vinnie, I'd adore it.
Isn't England fun?
It's just like being in one of those old-fashioned comedies.
Let's hope Marina gets the joke.
(both laugh)
How frightfully galling.
Dr. Haydock's insisted,
quite unnecessarily in my opinion,
that I rest it for a day or two.
Oh, thank you, Cherry.
I was so looking forward to it.
To be honest, I rather envy you.
I can't stand village do's--
stale buns and warm lemonade and tea.
No, I intend making a beeline for the house
and having a jolly good snoop.
Hang on, who's this?
Tea, madam?
Marina!
Councilor...
and Mrs. Hubbard?
That's right.
I'm Ella Blunt, Jason Rudd's assistant.
Would you care to follow me?
Oh, yes, we'd love to.
Mrs. Bantry? Oh, Mr. Preston!
Miss Gregg is greeting a few special guests upstairs.
Yes, yes...
If you'd like to follow me.
Oh, how exciting!
Do take that. Thank you.
Hold your stomach in.
(grunts)
Oh, roped off-- that's sensible, isn't it?
Yes, stop people crashing in.
Excuse me?
Would you look this way?
Lovely.
Thank you.
Quite flashed into my eyes.
Councilor and Mrs. Hubbard.
How very nice of you to come.
I do hope you enjoy your afternoon.
Jason...
Let me get you a drink.
Mrs. Dolly Bantry.
Oh, Mrs. Bantry,
it is nice of you to come.
I wouldn't have missed it for the world.
I'm so sorry to hear about Miss Marple.
Oh, she'll be on her feet in no time.
Jason, look who's here.
Ah, lovely to see you.
Oh, Mr. Rudd.
Can I get you a drink?
Primrose, why aren't you in the studio?
Oh, Miss Blunt asked if I'd help out here, Mr. Preston.
Did she now?
Doctor Gerard Haydock.
Just what the doctor ordered.
So thoughtful of you to invite me.
My pleasure, Doctor.
Tell me, what might I have seen you in?
Doctor,
may I interest you in a drink?
I thought you'd never ask.
A scotch would go down a treat.
Primrose, those drinks won't serve themselves.
Sorry, miss.
I've got the most frightful thirst.
Aren't you absolutely panting?
Miss Heather Badcock.
Oh, my God.
Very buzzy, eh, Mrs. B?
It's quite thrilling, Mrs. Hubbard.
Even my Leonard's in quite a tizzy.
It takes a lot to get him excited, believe me.
Miss Badcock is
the indefatigable secretary of the association.
Oh, Doctor!
I don't know what St. John would do without her.
How wonderful.
Yes, she's always ready with a smile and a helping hand.
Jason, I'm sure Miss Badcock would like a drink.
You don't remember me, then?
Well, why should you?
It was years ago, in Bermuda of all places.
I was there with one of our units
and you came to open a show in aid of St. John Ambulance.
Yes, of course.
I was just a girl and absolutely thrilled.
Who'd be a film star, eh, Mrs. B?
All that rubbish you have to listen to.
The doctor said I couldn't go.
What a pity.
It's wonderful what they've done
to the old place, don't you think?
You know, it's charming, gorgeous.
He's forced a vodka on me.
I'm not sure I like it.
So I said to myself, "I won't be beaten."
I got up, slapped some makeup on...
Knock it back, Mrs. Hubbard.
It's what you do with vodka.
Oh!
Have you got pictures of Lola?
Lola! Mr. Hogg!
Miss Brewster? Mr. Hogg?
Could you hold there, please?
I've never forgotten how wonderful you were that day.
It was a hundred times worth it.
Darling?
Now what will you have to drink?
Jason-- cocktails.
Ooh, I don't know whether I should.
Let your hair down, Miss Badcock.
I suppose it is a special day.
That's the spirit!
Have a daiquiri, Miss Badcock.
It's Marina's favorite.
Oh, thanks.
Darling?
I've had three already.
Lola Brewster
and Vincent Hogg.
I do not believe it!
Vincent!
And Lola!
My dear.
Well, aren't you the dark horses.
This house-- it's so...
ancient.
And so fitting.
I always knew you'd end up in an old pile.
Dear Vincent.
Such a riot.
Rudd.
Let's have a nose around.
Do you think we should?
This used to be a bathroom.
It still is.
Oh, I'm sorry!
Hay fever. Nightmare.
Please excuse me.
Two basins!
Look at this, my dear.
This used to be our bedroom.
Oh, I say!
Oh!
I can't imagine your Arthur in here.
Oh, do look at this!
Oh!
Oh, Dolly.
And this through here, this used to be Arthur's seat.
What was that?
Yes, what was it?
What on earth is going on?
Mr. Preston, what's happening?
It's one of the ladies.
She's had a sort of seizure or a fit or something.
It's probably the heat.
Yes, I'd better get some smelling salts.
Oh, dear.
Ah, Mr. Rudd, how is she?
Mr. Preston's gone for some smelling salts.
It's a bit late for that.
Oh, my goodness.
Heather Badcock?
Dead as a doornail.
Oh dear.
And at the garden party!
Dear me.
Yes. Full of beans one minute, pegged out the next.
What did she die of? No one knows.
She was fit as a fiddle apparently.
Mind you, she always did have that sort of ripe look,
like a piece of fruit that's about to go off.
There's going to be an inquest and a postmortem.
Well, of course, under the circumstances.
Great heavens. Heather Badcock.
You don't think it'd be suicide, do you?
Oh, no, no, she wasn't the type.
No, you're right, you're right.
And anyway, why go to a party to kill yourself?
No, no, it's obviously murder.
Oh, Jane, these are for you.
Oh, thank you.
Cherry?
Leave her.
She's sleeping.
There was a kind of reception committee
at the top of the stairs for selected guests
and Heather Badcock arrived shortly after I did.
Miss Heather Badcock.
Dr. Haydock introduced her to Marina Gregg.
Miss Badcock is the indefatigable secretary of...
I don't know what St. John would do without her.
How wonderful!
And Marina listened charmingly
while Heather went on and on and on
about how she'd met Marina years ago somewhere or other.
She wasn't very tactful, I must say, because
she was emphasizing about how long ago it was
and I don't think actresses like to be reminded
of how old they are.
But Miss Gregg took it all in good part?
Well, yes, but...
What?
Well...
when Miss Badcock was talking, I got the impression
that Marina wasn't listening after all.
She was staring over Miss Badcock's shoulder,
and when Miss Badcock had finished,
there was an odd silence.
She was staring at the wall opposite,
staring with...
Oh, how can I explain it?
Do try, Dolly.
She had a sort of...
She had a sort of
frozen look, as if she'd seen...
No, let me put it like this.
Do you remember The Lady of Shalott?
"Out flew the web and floated wide,
"The mirror crack'd from side to side,
'The doom has come upon me,' cried the Lady of Shalott."
That's what she looked like.
She was staring at the wall, you think?
Well, she seemed to be.
Was there anything on the wall?
Oh, I don't know.
Pictures, I think.
I don't think pictures would be the reason.
No, especially as she'd see them every day.
Were people still coming up the stairs?
You mean she might have been looking at one of them?
Yes, it's possible.
Well, there was a bit of a to-do
when Lola Brewster arrived with Vincent Hogg.
And also there was a young woman there taking photographs.
A photographer?
Yes, she took one of me.
And then Marina, all of a sudden,
seemed to pull herself together.
I think... I think her husband nudged her or something
and she was back to her old charming self.
Now what would you like to drink?
Jason-- cocktails.
Oh, I don't know whether I should.
Let your hair down, Miss Badcock.
I suppose it is a special day.
That's the spirit!
Have a daiquiri, Miss Badcock.
It's Marina's favorite.
Oh, thanks.
He gave a glass to the Badcock woman
and one to his wife.
Daiquiris, I think.
That's very interesting, Dolly.
Very interesting indeed.
But who on earth would want to kill Heather Badcock?
Unless she knew something.
No.
If she'd known anything,
she'd never be able to keep it to herself.
Perhaps she was blackmailing someone.
Blackmail?
The thought wouldn't enter her head.
No, I suppose you're right.
It reeks of murder, though, doesn't it?
The whole idea seems so very unlikely.
Unless, of course, it was the wrong murder.
An odd place to choose, isn't it, sir?
What do you mean, Tiddler?
Well, if I was going to poison someone,
spike their drink like,
I wouldn't choose a do with loads of people milling around.
I mean, someone's bound to notice, aren't they?
That's what we're going to find out.
So, what was it then?
Arsenic or cyanide or something?
According to the inquest it was an overdose
of hyethyldexyl- barboquindelorytate.
Right.
It's an antidepressant, Tiddler,
commonly known as Calmo.
So are we actually going to, like,
meet Marina Gregg then, sir?
Of course we are.
Damned fool question.
Are you a fan of hers, Tiddler?
I am...
sort of...
yes, sir.
A bit old for you, isn't she?
So, Inspector, our local murder
is considered worthy of the attention of Scotland Yard?
Yes, Miss Marple.
The involvement of a Hollywood star
raises its profile somewhat.
Should I be honored that I am your first port of call?
Commissioner Clithering speaks very highly of you.
Ah, dear Sir Henry.
How is he enjoying his retirement?
I suspect he's a little restless.
(Marple laughs)
I can well understand that-- yes.
How is the ankle?
Oh, better, thank you, much better.
I must say, it is quite a coincidence
that the woman who helped you when you fell
should be murdered a few days later.
Yes, isn't it?
I don't suppose you had any intuition of this, did you?
Oh, good heavens, no.
What an idea.
Although she did remind me of someone I once knew.
Who was that?
Alison Wilde.
Very kind and full of life,
but only ever saw things from her own perspective.
And what's Miss Wilde doing now?
Oh, she's dead, Inspector.
Would you care for a Garibaldi?
No, thank you.
Oh, so sorry.
It is a pity you weren't at the garden party
yourself, Miss Marple.
Yes, isn't it?
But my friend Dolly Bantry was.
It was Mrs. Bantry who sold Gossington Hall
to Marina Gregg.
And did Mrs. Bantry see anything?
Yes indeed, she did.
And what was that?
Are you familiar with The Lady Of Shalott?
Never say Nefertiti.
Like a curse from the mummy's tomb,
Marina Gregg seems dogged by tragedy.
At a garden party for the St. John Ambulance,
hosted by Miss Gregg in her new country home
as a rather unconvincing Lady Bountiful,
the secretary of the local association,
a garrulous spinster by the name of Heather Badcock,
suddenly dropped down dead.
The dreary proceedings,
at which Marina Gregg greeted guests
with the hauteur of a minor royal,
were ironically kick-started into life
by what is now being treated as murder.
That's the one.
She was sitting right there and she just went.
One minute she was fine, and the next...
I thought she'd had a seizure or a fit or something.
What she did have was six times the maximum dose
of a substance called Calmo.
Everybody takes Calmo.
I don't.
Oh, you should.
It is absolutely marvelous.
It bucks you up and it soothes you down,
if you take my meaning.
Would there be supplies of it in the house?
Yeah, place is lousy with it.
Bottles of it everywhere.
Where exactly did Miss Gregg receive her guests?
Well, she was standing right about here.
And, oh, yes, there was
a very persistent photographer
from London, Margot something-or-other.
A chic beatniky type.
She was taking photographs.
And people were coming up the stairs?
Mm-hmm. Yes, in driblets.
I brought up the VIPs, you might say,
and Ella Blunt brought up the rest.
She's Mr. Rudd's secretary.
And you are Miss Gregg's secretary?
Exclusive personal assistant, Inspector.
And were you here the time that Miss Badcock came up?
I'm ashamed to say, Inspector, that I just cannot remember.
I have a feeling that I must have gone
back downstairs to look after Vincent Hogg and Lola Brewster.
Hi, Miss Brewster, how are you?
Mr. Hogg, right this way.
We'll go on upstairs.
Vincent...?
Hogg, sir-- he's a journalist
who used to be married to Miss Gregg.
Oh, a fan!
Well, we must have a chat sometime.
This Vincent Hogg chappie...
Yes! We didn't even know he was in the country.
So his turning up was something of a surprise?
You bet.
A pleasant surprise, would you say?
Oh, yes.
So Miss Gregg was happy to see them?
She couldn't have been happier; in fact, she was thrilled.
To see her ex-husband? Yes.
With a redhead on his arm?
That's Hollywood.
Well, I should like to have a word with Miss Gregg, if I may.
Oh, but you can't-- she's totally prostrated.
Nevertheless, I'd still like to speak to her.
Well, I'm afraid that's out of the question, Inspector.
You see, the doctor came by this morning
and he gave her a little sedation.
I must say it's a relief to be with someone who's normal.
What do you mean, Doctor?
I've been attending to Miss Marina Gregg.
Oh, is she ill?
Her nerves are shot to pieces,
or so she kept telling me,
and would probably still be telling me
had I not given her a sedative.
Such a shock, someone suddenly dying like that
in the middle of your party.
If you ask me, her upset has nothing to do
with Miss Badcock's death. - Really?
I probably shouldn't be saying this.
Oh, I assure you it won't go any further.
So obsessed is she with herself, she even said that,
"It was meant for me, Doctor."
The poisoned drink?
She actually said that, did she?
Yes, she certainly did.
Why on earth would she say that?
Quite preposterous to claim this tragedy as her own
with poor Miss Badcock barely cold in the ground.
Tell me, Doctor, can you remember what happened
after Mr. Rudd served Miss Badcock and Miss Gregg
their drinks?
Yes, there were still guests coming up the stairs.
There was a couple, I recall...
Lola Brewster and Vincent Hogg.
A suave-looking chap and a rather flashy-looking redhead.
I do not believe it!
Miss Badcock and I were shifted off a little.
And Miss Badcock drank her daiquiri then?
No, because she wouldn't
stop talking about Miss Marina Gregg.
Ooh... oop.
Excuse me.
Yes, of course.
When did she drink it?
Well, it would have been a little while after.
It was getting a bit crowded by then.
Someone knocked into her and she spilt it.
She spilt it?
Yes.
It went down her dress and Miss Gregg's dress, I believe.
Oh, sorry!
Don't worry, it's only a Chanel.
I'm so sorry, Miss Gregg.
Here, wipe yourself.
I'm sorry.
Have this, why don't you?
I haven't touched it yet.
She handed over her own drink?
Yes.
Are you quite sure of that, Doctor?
Yes. Yes, I am.
And Miss Badcock took it?
No, she didn't want to at first,
but, yes, she took it.
And did what?
I've had far too much already.
Drank it.
Rather quickly, if memory serves.
Then I got chatting
to Councilor Hubbard, and the next thing I knew...
Miss Badcock?
Preston!
Can I get her anything?
Get some smelling salts.
She was dead.
Mmm.
Well, Miss Marple,
I'm delighted to tell you that you are now off the sick list.
But here's something for the pain.
But what if Miss Gregg is right,
that the poisoned drink was meant for her?
She might still be in danger.
Yes, but, well, you know what actresses are like.
Tell me, Doctor,
do you know if she's told her husband any of this?
No, she didn't.
I am quite sure of that.
In fact I even suggested that perhaps she should.
It is extraordinary.
What is?
A good dose of sleuthing always brings the color to your cheeks.
Inspector Hewitt.
Inspector? Ah, Miss Marple.
I've just seen Dr. Haydock.
Nothing serious I hope.
No, on the contrary, I'm perfectly well, thank you.
He mentioned something that I think you ought to know.
This business has made us all a bit edgy.
Especially your wife, I understand.
She's sensitive at the best of times.
This hasn't exactly helped.
Excuse me, Mr. Rudd.
We were wondering if Miss Gregg might be available
for a costume fitting tomorrow morning?
How the hell should I know?
I've been told your wife was rather distracted
while Heather Badcock was speaking to her.
Cut it.
It's perfectly possible.
All this handshaking does get a little tedious.
But you didn't notice anything yourself?
Well, I think I did give her a nudge at one point
to wake her up, but she was fine after that.
I'm sorry to interrupt...
Twenty minutes, John!
Mr. Rudd...
I've got two dozen journalists on the phone,
Jason, wanting to know when they can speak
to either you or Marina.
I'll get back to you. They're very persistent.
Ten minutes, Ella, okay? Okay.
As you can see, things are pretty hectic, so if you wouldn't mind...
Mr. Rudd, has it occurred to you that the poisoning
of Heather Badcock may have been entirely accidental?
And that the real intended victim was your wife?
Very astute, Inspector.
That's what I've thought all along.
Then why haven't you said anything?
Because I don't want her to suspect for one moment
that someone's out to kill her.
Hogg.
Hello?
I saw you do it.
What?
Honey, who is it?
I saw you put the tablets in the glass.
You're husband number...?
Five.
Almost a cliché, isn't it?
She's got it into her head that she's cursed with bad luck.
Well, I have every intention of proving her wrong.
Good for you.
You see, Inspector, she expects too much.
She really believes you can be happy ever after.
Well, life's not like that, is it?
And what about children?
That's one of the reasons she considers herself unlucky.
She finally resorted to adoption and then of course got pregnant.
She was over the moon, but the result was catastrophic.
She gave birth to a boy who was severely retarded
and had a complete breakdown.
I met her on her comeback movie, Marie Antoinette,
shortly after she'd recovered.
And the son?
He had to be put into a home.
In America?
Yes, but he was recently moved into a home over here.
Does she see him?
Too much contact would drive her over the edge
and we can't risk that.
But life goes on.
Not for Miss Badcock.
It was you, wasn't it, Mr. Rudd,
who gave her her drink?
Yes-- a daiquiri.
I gave one to Miss Badcock, then one to Marina.
It's Marina's favorite.
Oh, thanks.
And this was about the time
that Vincent Hogg and Lola Brewster appeared?
Yes.
I do not
believe it!
Vincent!
And Lola!
Marina put her drink down on the table.
She hadn't touched it, and greeted them.
And that's where her drink remained.
And it was only then that it could have been tampered with.
Don't ask me how it was done and as for who did it,
well, you have about 20 possible culprits to choose from.
Not now.
What then?
My wife finally managed to retrieve her drink
when that woman must have spilt hers.
It's all right, really.
I'm sorry!
And Marina offered her drink to Miss Badcock
and that was that.
But I can assure you, the fatal dose
couldn't have been added after then
because Miss Badcock drank it immediately.
And five minutes later she was dead.
Can you think of anyone who would wish to harm your wife,
Mr. Rudd?
I think it's fair to say that in our business
we derive a certain pleasure
from seeing colleagues fall flat on their faces.
But as for wishing them dead, not as a rule.
I didn't know you were a film mag fan, Miss.
I'm not.
Just curious, that's all.
They belong to poor Miss Badcock.
Inspector Hewitt kindly procured them for me.
How long have you been Mr. Rudd's secretary?
Five years.
You knew him before he met Marina?
Oh, yes.
I suppose as Brits we had a natural affinity.
He's a sort of genius, you know, and still so young.
You like the job?
It suits my purpose, although I hadn't bargained on murder.
Six times the recommended dose could hardly be anything else.
An accident?
And how would that happen?
These theatrical types,
they have the most curious lapses in intelligence.
I mean, sometimes I think the more artistic they are,
the less common sense they have.
I still don't see how such an accident could happen.
One of the guests might have wanted an upper or a downer,
having forgotten what they had earlier,
put too much in a glass,
and then put it down, got distracted and went off.
Along comes Miss What's-Her-Name,
thinks it's her glass, picks it up and drinks it.
People are very stupid, you know.
Sorry, sir.
Tell me, Miss Blunt, does Marina Gregg take Calmo?
Oh yes, we all do.
Have you any idea when I might be able to talk to her?
She's always throwing temperaments
and this has given her the perfect opportunity
to throw a really big one.
Would you say she is difficult to work for?
Difficult?
She's an absolute monster.
The woman has no moderation.
She's either jumping for joy or in the depths of despair,
and there are certain topics one simply
can't mention. - Such as?
Mental breakdowns, psychiatric hospitals,
anything to do with children.
She can't have any more,
and the one she did have is completely bonkers.
But it's not Mr. Rudd's child, is it?
No!
The husband before last.
And where is he now?
Florida.
Miss Blunt,
do you know if Marina Gregg is afraid of anyone?
Marina?
Afraid?
Hay fever. Complete nightmare.
A day out in London?
What a lovely idea.
I've been behaving disgracefully, gentlemen.
Will you ever forgive me?
I just let myself go to pieces after this awful thing.
Do take a seat, Inspector.
Thank you, Miss Gregg.
This is Sergeant Tiddler.
Pull up a chair, Sergeant Tiddler.
Make yourself at home.
Tiddler? Chair.
Yes, sir.
I'm so ashamed of myself.
It's only natural that you should have felt upset.
I'd no business making out it was worse for me
than anyone else.
Hadn't you, Miss Gregg?
Well, hadn't you?
You're a very perceptive inspector, aren't you?
Why do you think someone wanted to kill you?
It was my glass, my drink that had been tampered with.
It was just a mistake that that woman got it.
I wouldn't have said anything, but Jason insisted.
You've confided in him, then?
Dr. Haydock suggested I should.
Jason thought the same as me, he thought it all along.
I hope you're getting this, Sergeant.
I am, ma'am.
Have you any idea,
Miss Gregg, who might have tampered
with your drink?
It could have been anyone.
Jason, darling,
Inspector Hewitt thinks I know who spiked my drink
and I keep telling him I don't.
But I can't help thinking
that perhaps you know a little more than you're telling me.
God, I'm exhausted.
Just one more thing.
Can't this wait, Inspector?
While Miss Badcock was speaking to you,
you looked over her shoulder and saw something
that seemed to alarm you.
Now, is this true, Miss Gregg?
Of course it isn't.
What could possibly have alarmed me?
It seems you might have been looking at the staircase,
and at about that time Vincent Hogg arrived
with Lola Brewster.
Was it this that upset you?
I wasn't upset. Who said I was?
Inspector, I think it's time to go.
You didn't even know they were coming, did you?
I'd no idea they were even in England.
So it was a surprise?
Yes, it was. A delightful surprise.
Delightful to see your ex-husband?
Inspector...
With your current husband's ex-lover on his arm?
Yesterday's papers, Inspector!
So you knew about the affair, did you?
You're very persistent, aren't you?
Did Lola Brewster ever make any threats
towards you, Miss Gregg? She wouldn't dare.
I'd heard that she pulled a gun on you
at a party after Mr. Rudd
dumped her.
Let's cut to the chase, shall we?
Lola Brewster had no opportunity of poisoning that drink
because I was close beside her most of the time.
Were you?
The idea that she'd come to England
and poison Marina...
Close beside her? What were you up to?
I wasn't up to anything!
And what about Vincent Hogg?
The idea that that poisonous old snake
could in any way alarm me...
But there was something, wasn't there, Miss Gregg?
Something that distracted you?
Okay, Inspector...
Let me put it like this.
I've had quite a tough time recently,
but have gradually been getting back on track
and am working my butt off,
but I still find time to open my house
to raise money for charity,
and to be nice and pleasant to everyone.
And they all say the same thing to you,
and you say the same thing back, over and over and over again.
Have you any idea how boring that can be?
Darling...
But you do it 'cause it's your job,
and if at some point you glaze over, then so be it.
I haven't the faintest idea what Miss What's-Her-Face
was going on about, and I tell you,
it couldn't have been that riveting
because I did blank out-- for a second, two seconds--
who cares?
I'm human, so sue me!
My only concern, Miss Gregg, is for your safety.
An attempt was made on your life
by someone on the day of the party--
someone who is quite possibly still here
and who, in the scheme of things, is bound to try again.
If you have even the vaguest notion who that person might be,
I beg you to share it.
Perhaps you might know something that I don't,
and if you do, you really should tell us,
for your sake.
But I don't!
How many more times do I have to say it?!
I didn't see anything!
I didn't hear anything!
And you're all driving me insane!
Now get out of here, the lot of you!
I want to be left in peace!
I think you'd better...
Yes. Thank you, Miss Gregg.
Mr. Rudd.
Any chance of an autograph, Miss Gregg?
Get out!
She's a cracker!
And as we've known each other for centuries,
we thought it would be jolly nice to have a portrait taken
as a sort of memento.
Friendship is so important,
don't you think, Miss Bence?
And having seen you at the party,
I thought... the very person.
I expect you've taken lots of famous people,
haven't you, Miss Bence?
I'll shoot anyone if they've got the money.
Hold it.
I gather from the press
that this woman was poisoned by mistake,
that it was in fact intended for Marina.
That's right, sir.
The overdose was in Miss Gregg's cocktail.
Miss Badcock spilt her drink and Miss Gregg gave her hers.
Pretty conclusive, I'd say.
You hadn't seen her for a while?
Not since our divorce, oh happy day!
So you didn't mind being ditched for a younger man?
To describe our marriage as a hellish nightmare
would scarcely do it justice.
Why are you over here, Mr. Hogg?
For my column, of course.
Marina's new film, Nefertiti, God help us,
is creating quite a buzz.
I would be negligent to ignore it.
Now, Lola Brewster...
Ah, yes, we sort of gravitated to each other
as injured parties.
She's a sweet girl, soothingly stupid.
Would it have been a shock for Miss Gregg to see you together?
Oh, yes, most definitely.
I believe she's told certain friends
she's afraid of you, Mr. Hogg.
I wasn't aware she had any friends.
Answer my question, please.
Marina's an actress.
What do you expect?
She plays up.
Why let something go
when you can make a five-act drama out of it?
So she had nothing to be afraid of?
Certainly not me, Inspector.
I'm a pussycat.
Of course, we're such big fans of Marina Gregg,
aren't we, Jane?
Are you a fan, Miss Bence?
She can certainly act up a storm.
(clears her throat)
Oh!
Oh...
Take this.
Mmm.
Perfect couple.
I thought she was so kind to open her home for the party
and it all went frightfully well,
except, of course, for poor Miss Badcock.
I'd very much like to see
your photographs, Miss Bence.
I expect you took several of Lola Brewster.
Of course, it was just about then
that Marina Gregg had that funny turn.
Did you notice that, Miss Bence?
You were probably imagining it, Dolly.
Well, I'm probably putting it too strongly,
but it did seem for a moment that she looked a little queer.
Mind you, I had just knocked back
a ferocious martini, so I was probably a bit squiffy.
Oh, well, you got quite lyrical about it.
That's not like me to be lyrical.
You quoted Tennyson, I seem to remember.
Oh, did I?
"'The doom has come upon me,' cried the Lady of Shalott."
Oh yes, you're right.
I do love that poem, don't you, Miss Bence?
Hmm...
Actually, it's, um... it's "curse," not "doom."
But I know what you mean.
So you saw it too, did you?
It's most extraordinary.
She's expressing nothing whatever-- no fear, no pain.
Do you know, you're absolutely right.
But there's something, isn't there?
Something she's seen or thought.
You capture her very well,
Miss Bence.
Had you met before?
Why do you ask?
Because you've worked in America, perhaps.
How do you know that?
I've seen your name in magazines.
I thought you may have encountered her
in a professional capacity.
I couldn't keep this, could I, for my collection?
Be my guest.
Oh, thank you.
Thank you so much.
Of course, one can never be sure
how reliable these magazines are.
I've read, for example, that she has any number of children
and then that she has no children at all.
It's all most confusing, isn't it, Dolly?
Utterly.
How many children does she have, Miss Bence?
I haven't a clue.
Haven't you?
Haven't you really?
What are you doing here?
Has someone sent you?
No, no, we're just here to have our photograph taken,
aren't we, Jane?
Are you, Miss Marple?
What other possible reason could there be?
What the hell.
It's hardly a secret.
What isn't, Miss Bence?
That I'm one of the children Marina adopted.
Now remember you're on duty, Tiddler.
Yes, sir.
So for God's sake don't sit there
with your mouth open like a beached cod.
Are you going to ask me
lots of horrible questions, Officer?
It's Inspector, actually,
and I hope they won't be too horrible.
I'm sure they will be, even though you have the kindest eyes
and the cutest smile.
You know, gentlemen,
I'm sure this whole thing must have been a terrible mistake.
You think so, Miss Brewster?
Oh, yes.
It's all such nonsense.
As if anyone would want to poison Marina!
She's an absolute sweetie.
Everybody loves her.
Including you?
I've always looked up to her.
She's such a brilliant actress.
You know, it's a scandal she's never won an Oscar.
Still, she has a year or two left.
Wasn't there a little trouble between the two of you?
Oh, that!
It was nothing.
She stole my lover, that's all.
Jason Rudd.
Isn't that hilarious?
She's old enough to be his mother.
You can't have been too pleased.
Well, I wasn't, but now I see it was the best thing
that could have happened.
I wouldn't have hooked up with Vinnie otherwise.
People say you were pretty furious.
People say all sorts.
Didn't you threaten to shoot her?
Oh... sure,
but I didn't really mean it.
Miss Brewster, I have it on very good authority
that you said,
"That bitch needn't think she'll get away with it.
I'll get even with her in the end."
Did I really say that?
I believe you did.
Well, I guess I was a little mad.
We all get a little ruffled sometimes, don't we, Inspector?
But do you really think I would poison her cocktail
within three minutes of seeing her again?
Really, Inspector, I do think you're being a very silly boy.
She adopted
some children once, didn't she?
Yes, but I don't think it worked out so well.
I guess it was kind of impulsive--
you know, like shopping.
You get it home,
then you think, oh, boring!
Well, we lived in the East End of London,
my mother and eight of us kids, and she simply couldn't cope.
So she did what a lot of women did in her position
and she wrote to the rich and famous, begged them to adopt,
and one day she got lucky.
Didn't Miss Gregg also adopt a boy?
Yes, and for a time we lived the most wonderful life.
Marina played her part to the hilt.
But she did want children, didn't she?
Mmm, oh, yes.
She just didn't want us.
As soon as she discovered she was pregnant, that was it.
All she wanted was a child of her own.
Well, you can't blame her for that.
No, but I can blame her for taking me
and my mother for letting her.
And your adopted brother, what's happened to him?
We drifted apart.
He was more resentful.
Always said that when he grew up, he would kill her baby,
and then, of course, she gave birth
to that wretched little creature.
Perhaps there's justice after all.
You hate her that much?
Why shouldn't I?
Tell me, Miss Bence,
was it Marina Gregg who arranged
for you to take photographs that day?
She knew nothing about it.
I was curious to see her again, and...
Do you know what?
She didn't even recognize me.
I'm going down to Hellingworth studios
to take some production shots.
I wonder if she'll recognize me then.
Hailey Preston here.
Can I help you?
I saw you do it.
Excuse me?
I saw you put the tablets in the glass.
Yes?
They're ready for you, Marina.
Oh, Miss Gregg... Not now.
The usual suspects.
What the hell are you doing here?
I'm very well, thank you, Marina,
and I must say you look every inch the queen.
So do you.
Why are you here?
We're doing the biggest spread.
Aren't you thrilled?
Vincent, you old dog!
Good heavens. Casey!
So they still haven't found you out?
And Miss Brewster, as lovely as ever.
Hi.
Marina.
Does he play your husband?
Yes.
Oh...
So Nefertiti also went for men half her age?
Isn't that the cutest coincidence?
And did you know she was regarded
as a fertility goddess?
Quite a stretch for you, my dear.
You bastard!
They're waiting for you.
Miss Gregg.
Thank you.
Thank you very much.
Perfect.
Wonderful.
We really must go.
Oh, I say!
What are you doing here?
Oh, good morning, Mr. Preston.
Well, what are you doing here?
Miss Gregg invited us.
That's not like her.
We're so excited, aren't we, Jane?
Oh, yes.
Why didn't she tell me?
Scene 48, take 19.
Quiet, please!
Why didn't you tell me this?
I'm really sorry I didn't tell you before.
I don't understand why you didn't.
I didn't think it was important.
Primrose, it is not your job to...
Quiet!
And...
Action!
My sweet lord, I am not worthy of this honor.
Is he ever going to say anything?
It's your line, Marina.
"Wife is honor enough."
I know what it is, thank you very much!
I wouldn't hold your breath for a sequel.
Keep on rolling.
Get that out of here!
And... action!
My sweet lord, I am not worthy of this honor.
Wife is honor enough.
Not worthy?
You are a thousand times worthy.
Our people await, my queen.
As equals we shall appear before them.
Oh, my love.
Is he going to do it like that?
Okay. Hold it. Cut there.
Do it like what?
His hand slipped below my waistline.
No, it didn't.
Tell him, Jason.
Casey, could you make sure your hand stays above the waistline?
I wouldn't dream of letting it go anywhere else.
Let me know when you've finished.
Marina... Coffee!
She's quite a handful,
isn't she?
Miss Gregg?
Jason!
Miss Bence, what's happening?
Marina thinks her coffee's been poisoned.
Good gracious!
Good morning!
Good morning.
Beautiful weather.
Yes, isn't it?
Why on earth use the public call box?
Rather odd, I thought, so I telephoned the hall
and wondered if the line was down, and it wasn't.
What do you think of that?
Clearly Miss Blunt did not want to be overheard.
Exactly!
And one has to ask oneself why.
She must have seen something at the party.
I'd agree that someone must have seen something.
The question is, why hasn't that person come forward?
Are you suggesting blackmail, Miss Marple?
Well, I wouldn't go so far as that--
unless, of course, someone else gets killed.
How was it, then?
Oh, it was the first day back on set
and she played up something rotten. Did she?
You've no idea, Cherry.
She's a right madam.
She thought her coffee was poisoned at one point
and blamed me, if you please.
No!
She did.
If it weren't for Mr. Rudd calming things down,
I dread to think what might have happened.
What did he do?
He poured it away.
Well, that's a bit silly, isn't it?
How do you mean?
'Cause if it was poisoned,
there'll be no way of knowing.
Do you think it might have been?
Well, if they can poison her cocktail...
You know, I've been thinking about that.
When I was helping out the day of the party,
I was quite close to her.
Heather Badcock, you mean?
Yes.
When she got the cocktail all down her dress,
there was something funny about it.
What?
Well, I didn't think anything of it at the time,
but mulling it over
when I popped into Gossington Hall the other day,
I'm almost sure she did it on purpose.
Spilt the cocktail on purpose?
Yes.
It's all right, really.
Oh, sorry.
Don't worry, it's only a Chanel.
That is a bit funny, isn't it?
Yes, it is.
I've told Ella Blunt about it.
What for?
'Cause she's been going on and on at me
about if I'd seen anything,
and then I thought, well, yes, I had.
Here you are.
What is it?
The analysis of the coffee Marina complained about.
But you poured it away.
I saw you.
Most of it.
I'm pretty adept at sleight of hand, you know.
Arsenic.
So she was right about it tasting bitter.
No.
Arsenic has no taste.
But her instinct was right.
And we thought she was just being hysterical.
Oh, don't worry.
It'll all work out.
She was so happy here.
These things happen.
That's the way life is.
Some of us can take it, and some of us can't.
Arsenic, though.
That's serious.
Jason, no one is going to poison her here.
They've tried once, for God's sake!
Bloody Marina!
Stupid bloody cow!
Oh... Jason.
Oh, my God!
Oh, God!
Yes?
Jane? Dolly.
The Blunt woman...
Dead!
I'm afraid I have some rather bad news, sir.
Ella Blunt died this morning.
Oh, dear.
Cyanide poisoning.
How very unpleasant!
Why are you telling me this?
Didn't you know her?
Our paths have crossed once or twice.
Wouldn't Jason Rudd be the man to ask?
I thought you might know something he doesn't.
Then I have to disappoint you, Inspector.
So there's nothing you could say
that would be of assistance?
Mr. Hogg?
There is something.
Yes?
A couple of days ago I got a call.
I saw you do it.
What?
Honey, who is it?
I saw you put the tablets in the glass.
Did you recognize the voice?
No, but I know for a fact it was Ella Blunt.
How?
Why do you think she called you?
I haven't the faintest idea.
"Marina's Murder Mayhem."
"To have one murder under one's roof
"may be regarded as a misfortune;
"to have two looks like carelessness.
"Marina Gregg's rural idyll has been blighted yet again
"by dastardly deeds,
"this time in the shape of a poisoned atomizer
"inserted into the nostrils of Miss Ella Blunt.
"Miss Blunt, the devoted secretary
to Marina Gregg's boyish husband Jason Rudd..."
Dropping like flies, aren't they, Miss Marple?
I wouldn't quite say that.
Primrose had a bit of a chinwag
with Miss Blunt the other day.
Primrose?
Primrose Dixon-- she works at the studios.
She said she had something to tell her.
What did she have to tell her?
Well, Primrose helped out on the day of the party, see,
serving drinks and that, and ever since,
that Miss Blunt has been going on and on
asking her if she saw anything
and if she did, it was her duty to tell her.
And did she see anything?
Well, when she thought about it,
yes, something did strike her as a bit funny,
so she thought she'd better tell her.
And what was it, Cherry?
It was to do with Heather Badcock
and the cocktail.
Oh, yes?
She said she did it herself.
Did what herself?
Spilt the cocktail all down her new dress.
You mean accidentally?
No. Primrose said she did it on purpose.
Spilt the cocktail on purpose?
Yes.
That is a bit funny, isn't it?
Yes-- yes, it is.
It don't make much sense whichever way you look at it.
No.
No, it doesn't.
You get on quite well with, uh...
with Primrose, do you, Cherry?
Oh yes, miss.
We've known each other since we were toddlers.
Good, because I have a suggestion
I think you might quite like.
♪ ♪
So Ella Blunt had it in mind
to blackmail Vincent Hogg.
But she got the wrong person.
It seems she got the right one in the end.
Yes, but I'm at a loss as to know who.
Must be losing my touch.
We'll have none of that, Inspector.
I would simply remind you that in my experience
it is nearly always the obvious person.
Meaning Jason Rudd?
Well, yes, but he seems so very devoted,
one cannot see that he has any kind of motive.
What reason did he give you for throwing away the coffee?
He should surely have left it for you.
Precisely, but he didn't think
there was anything wrong with it.
No, it seems that ever since the day of the party,
Miss Gregg has thought that everything was poisoned.
But it transpires that he didn't throw it all away;
he kept some, had it analyzed and found it was poisoned.
How interesting.
Miss Marple...
Yes?
What you told me about Margot Bence being adopted
by Miss Gregg...
You really believe that after all these years...?
Oh, yes, I do.
Children remember, Inspector.
A grudge, an injustice, a sorrow.
They do remember.
Yes.
Yes, I know.
My mother, when she died,
I was six years old in the nursery having tea.
Freshly baked scones, straight from the oven.
A maid rushed in and whispered to Nanny,
"There's been a dreadful accident.
"The mistress...
She's been killed."
And I didn't cry or speak.
I just...
stared at the scones, still warm from the oven.
And even now, whenever I see
a plateful of scones, I'm filled with sadness.
For a moment I don't remember, but...
then I do.
Ridiculous, isn't it?
On the contrary, Inspector.
It is most revealing.
Bobby?
It's...
It's your mother.
Oh, Bobby.
According to your friend Mrs. Bantry,
Heather Badcock said something like, "You won't remember,
"but years ago in Bermuda I got up from bed
"when I had chicken pox
and came along to see you and you gave me an autograph."
Now, Jason Rudd says
that Miss Badcock left her bed with flu
to get Marina Gregg's autograph.
Did he say when this was?
About 12 or 13 years ago.
I see.
What?
Not quite as much as I'd like to.
If only I knew why she'd ruined her new dress.
Who? Miss Badcock?
Yes.
It seems
such a very odd thing to do,
unless... of course.
Oh!
Oh, I must be very stupid!
I am glad that girl is safely in Bournemouth!
What girl?
Primrose Dixon,
the one who works at the studios and spoke to Ella Blunt.
How in heaven's name do you know she's in Bournemouth?
Because I asked Cherry to take her there on a little holiday.
Why on earth did you do that?
Because I don't want her to get killed, of course.
Chicken pox.
You're sure?
Well, something like that.
I was talking about vodka at the time
so I wasn't really listening.
She didn't say whooping cough?
Whooping cough?
She wouldn't put on makeup for whooping cough.
Makeup?
It was the makeup
that made you think chicken pox?
Or maybe it was nettlerash.
Oh, you're hopeless, Dolly.
Makeup...
makeup...
Of course!
Yes, yes, thank you so much.
Mr. Rudd doesn't see anybody
without an appointment.
Oh, I still need to see him.
He really can't be disturbed.
Oh, I'm sure he can.
Look, why don't you tell me what it is that you want?
Well, I already have: I need to see Mr. Rudd.
Miss Marple...
So this is where Marina Gregg would have received her guests.
Am I right?
Yes.
Yes, and I expect she would have been standing about here?
Uh, yes, she was.
You know, you remind me of someone I once knew.
Gerald French.
Uh, what did he do?
Not a lot.
Had a most unfortunate past.
What kind of a past?
Oh, I couldn't possibly say.
So if you'd be so kind as to fetch Mr. Rudd.
Uh, but Miss Marple...
Don't worry,
I'll be perfectly all right.
I understand now, Mr. Rudd.
The whole thing is really very simple.
So simple... one just couldn't see it.
What can I do for you, Miss Marple?
Thank you so much for seeing me.
This is really not the best time.
Ah!
An inspector calls.
"Out flew the net and floated wide,
"The mirror crack'd from side to side,
'The curse has come upon me,' cried the Lady of Shalott."
That's how Dolly Bantry described it--
the look on your wife's face.
Although actually she misquoted.
She said "doom" instead of "curse."
Perhaps a better word in the circumstances.
On the day of the party,
while Heather Badcock was talking to your wife,
Marina was not looking at her, but at that picture.
And though there was doom foreshadowed
in your wife's face, it was not on her
the doom would fall.
It was Heather Badcock who was doomed
from the moment she started talking.
I don't follow.
Why should you?
No one has told you exactly what she said.
But they have, Miss Marple,
over and over again.
But not the crucial phrase,
because no one thought it was important.
I was just a girl
and absolutely thrilled at the prospect
of seeing you in the flesh.
I've always been the most huge fan,
but the most ridiculous thing was on that day
I went down with a temperature
and the doctor said I couldn't go.
What a pity!
Can you imagine
my disappointment, Miss Gregg?
What did the doctor say it was?
German measles.
But I wasn't feeling really ill
and I only had this little rash on my cheeks.
So I said to myself,
"I won't be beaten."
I got up, slapped some makeup on and went along.
I am so pleased that I made the effort.
German measles?
That is correct,
isn't it, Mr. Rudd?
Yes.
A very slight illness, really.
A rash, a little fever,
but extremely infectious, and if a woman contracts it
in the early stages of pregnancy,
the consequences can be devastating.
I think I'm right in saying your wife had a child
who was born greatly damaged
and that she's never really recovered from the shock.
She never knew how, or when,
or from whom she'd...
Until the day of the party
when a perfectly strange woman
came up those stairs and told her.
Imagine what that moment meant for Marina.
For years she'd nursed a kind of hatred
for this unknown person who'd caused her tragedy.
And suddenly she meets that person face to face,
a person who seems so happy and carefree
and pleased with herself.
It was more
than she could bear.
Had she had time to think, to calm herself...
But she didn't.
She always had her pills with her, so it was very easy to do.
She put the stuff into her own glass,
and if by any chance anyone noticed,
they wouldn't have thought anything of it,
having seen her take them before.
She managed to jog Heather Badcock's arm
so that she spilt her drink.
I'm so sorry!
Don't worry.
It's only a Chanel.
And that was where the confusion lay.
Now, I only had the account
of what Primrose Dixon reported to Cherry.
She said how funny it was
that she seemed to spill the drink on purpose...
Yes.
But the "she" that Primrose referred to
was not Heather Badcock
but Marina Gregg.
It was really the perfect murder.
Have this, why don't you?
I haven't touched it yet.
Oh, I couldn't.
Please do. I've had far too much already.
She wanted Heather Badcock dead.
And a few minutes later... she was.
But then she was afraid, afraid someone had seen,
and could see only one way out:
to insist that the murder had been aimed at her.
She gave the performance of her life.
Jason!
And only one person saw through it.
This is
only a theory.
But you know it's the truth, don't you, Mr. Rudd?
You know, because you knew from the first.
Can you imagine my disappointment, Miss Gregg?
What did the doctor say it was?
German measles, but I didn't feel really ill...
She would go to any lengths to prove
that she was the intended victim,
even down to doctoring her own coffee.
That was her, wasn't it, Mr. Rudd?
Yes, I thought so.
You were frantic to protect her,
but you didn't realize
how much you would have to protect her from.
It was not only a question
of hushing up one death,
but also the death of Ella Blunt...
who finally found the right person to blackmail,
thanks to Primrose Dixon.
I saw you do it.
I saw you put the tablets in the glass.
I'm very sorry for you, Mr. Rudd,
the agony you've been through
because you care for her so much.
Mr. Rudd, I need to speak to your wife.
I'm afraid that won't be possible.
It's all over, sir.
You can't make excuses for her any longer.
Now where can I find her?
In her bedroom, Inspector.
She died last night in her sleep.
An overdose?
That's right.
Was it an accident?
In my opinion, yes.
But it could be suicide?
It could, but it's most unlikely.
Or someone could have given it to her?
Almost impossible to prove.
Doctor?
You'll excuse me.
Such a beautiful creature and such a wonderful gift.
How sad that she couldn't let go of the past
and see the future as it really was.
It's very fortunate she took an overdose.
Death was really
the only escape left.
Yes, Mr. Rudd,
very fortunate indeed.
She was so lovely...
and she had suffered so much.