(GUNSHOT)
(BARKING)
It is with enormous pleasure
that I give you our crime writer of the year,
Mrs Ariadne Oliver!
Surely you remember her?
Celia Ravenscroft.
She's your god-daughter, is she not?
Is she? It's just that one has so many.
Mrs Oliver, may I have your autograph?
Thank you.
Oh, that Celia! I haven't seen her in a very long time.
Thank you.
May I confide in you?
There's something I really must find out.
Something of great moment.
A mystery.
Celia Ravenscroft, you see, intends to marry my son Desmond.
Why is that a mystery? Is there something wrong with Desmond?
No, there's nothing wrong with Desmond.
No.
But it's... It's all just... very sudden.
And one has to know about people.
Especially people one's welcoming into one's family.
Mrs Oliver,
what I want to know is this.
Did her father kill her mother?
Or did the mother kill the father?
I don't think I heard you properly. Pardon?
I know it was 12 or 13 years ago now.
But it did cause a fuss at the time.
You must remember.
General and Mrs Ravenscroft.
Of course I remember, it's just that I
couldn't quite believe my ears, Mrs...
Burton-Cox.
Mrs Burton-Cox, it has been nice meeting you.
But I must find out the truth.
I'm at a loss to see how I...
Ask your god-daughter. Ask Celia.
Please.
I shouldn't dream of doing such a thing.
(CHIMING)
(MUSIC)
(GERMAN-SPEAKING INTERFERENCE)
It was impossible to shake her off.
And now this frightful woman wants me to quiz Celia about it.
What do you think she's after?
Je sais pas. I don't know what I should do.
What would you do, were you me?
It is a question most difficult, madame.
I know how I, Hercules Poirot, would act in any circumstance.
But how you would act, madame, I do not know that.
I do not know that at all. (PHONE)
Excuse-moi, s'il vous plait.
Hercules Poirot speaks.
Ah, my dear doctor...
If Poirot can be of any assistance...
He comes at once.
Tout de suite.
George! My coat and my hat, s'il vous plait!
Yes, sir.
Madame, it is my dear friend Dr Willoughby. He has... some trouble.
Please to forgive me. You haven't answered my question.
What should I do about the dreadful Burton-Cox?
The thing that you should do, madame,
and this I advise you to do most strenuously,
is nothing, rien.
Merci.
Oh, mais oui. Poirot, thank God!
I am so sorry. Hello, Poirot.
I heard you were coming.
Ah, Detective Sergeant Beale!
Detective Inspector.
Was he still practising, Dr Willoughby?
He'd been semi-retired for years.
In effect, I run the institute.
But my father kept his office and continued his research.
He saw patients?
He hasn't treated anyone for a long time.
This, it is how he was discovered?
That's correct.
Seen enough? Oui.
Drain it off. Sir.
In your kind of work, Doctor, is this kind of contraption normal?
Hydriatic procedures in the treatment of insanity
were quite common 20 years ago, Inspector.
I was not, I'm afraid, ever convinced of their efficacy.
But I was the junior and he was my father.
And your father, he employed this treatment?
He gave up on it in the end.
Concluded it was dangerous.
Looks like he was hit on the head first.
(SIGHS)
Come away, Doctor.
I hope you don't mind that I called
for Monsieur Poirot straight away.
No, I don't.
Poirot and I have worked together before.
I hope you don't mind my asking you to
vouch for your movements last night.
You surely don't regard me as a suspect?!
I'm just doing my job, sir.
This was my own father.
The procedure is quite standard, cher ami.
Did you sleep at home?
No.
No. My wife lives in Kent with the children.
It's not always convenient for me to travel home at night.
So I keep an apartment here.
In the institute? Upstairs. Nothing glamorous.
And that's where you stayed last night?
Yes.
Please excuse me.
Did you know your father was in the building?
No, I had absolutely no idea.
But he keeps strange hours. I mean... kept.
Dr Willoughby! Are you OK?
There's a cop on the door.
Please don't be alarmed, Marie.
This is my assistant, Miss McDermott.
Mademoiselle. Who are these guys?
What's going on around here?
It's very good to see you, Mrs Oliver.
You should call me Ariadne.
Thank you for coming. You said you worked nearby.
Yes. A solicitor's office. Really?
We have much to catch up on, haven't we, Celia?
Mm-hm.
It must have seemed odd, my ringing up out of the blue.
I haven't been a very conscientious godmother, I know.
I don't remember coming to your confirmation.
I don't remember having one. Oh, dear.
But you sent a very nice cheque on my 21st birthday.
So I would say your duties are done.
Bizarre, though. I saw your photo in the paper this morning.
Crime writer of the year. And now we're having tea.
Yes, well... You see, a woman came up and button-holed me.
She said 'I believe you have a god-daughter named Celia Ravenscroft.'
Oh. Was she a friend of mine?
A Mrs Burton-Cox. She said she thought
you might be going to marry her son.
Douglas, is it? Desmond.
Desmond. What does Desmond do?
He's a pianist.
Splendid!
Making any money? God, no.
He's still at the Academy. He gets a recital now and then.
It takes quite a while to become a concert pianist.
I... I don't know what you know.
But I'm fond of Desmond. And he's fond of me.
But his mother is something else entirely.
What did she want?
She thought that, since you were my godchild,
I might be able to ask you something.
Something quite delicate.
What she went on to say was...
'Can you find out if her father murdered her
mother or her mother murdered her father?'
For God's sake, how dare she?!
She actually said that?! The beast!
She thought I might know something about it.
But at the time, I was on a lecture tour of America.
And you were... What, 14?
I was 12.
I was good friends with your mother.
We were finished together in Paris.
But then I married and went somewhere
and she married and went somewhere.
And then your father was posted again.
Was it Rhodesia? India.
But I was sent to school in England.
In the holidays, I boarded with a family in Suffolk.
I hardly saw Mummy and Daddy until they retired to Eastbourne.
But you weren't at Eastbourne when it...
No. I was away at school.
What can you tell me, Ariadne?
Have you got any inside knowledge? No, my dear. I haven't.
I know only what I read in the papers.
No obvious motive.
No sign of a quarrel. No evidence of attack from outside.
Nobody knows.
That's just it. Nobody knows.
I was shielded from it when I was young.
But I think of it constantly.
Please, please find out what happened.
Not for Mrs Burton-Cox. For me.
I have to know.
Will you help me, Ariadne?
I have to help Celia.
The girl deserves to know.
Yet I can't, for the life of me, see what to do!
How may one discover anything years afterwards?
I know you're busy. But will you help me look into it?
Je suis desole, madame.
I have an affair of consequence to which I must attend.
The matter of the Ravenscrofts, it is in the past.
And Poirot, he must march in the present.
Give me one moment of your time.
My friend Margaret Ravenscroft died a horrible death.
I have to find out why.
What should I do?
Bien sur.
Madame, what have you told to me, hm?
A husband and wife who never argue, who live in complete harmony.
Whoever has heard of such a thing?!
There was a motive. There is always a motive.
And if the police, they could not find this motive at the time,
then this motive, it is... How do you say?
It is... unorthodox.
The answer, madame, lies in the past.
You must delve into the past.
You say they lived near to Eastbourne?
You have acquaintance there?
Then go! Allez-y! Allez-y!
Drive about, ask the questions. Be the person with a nose.
Oh, I see. Someone will remember something.
Always someone remembers something.
You mean elephants.
Sorry, I was thinking of elephants at that dinner last night.
With hesitation, I ask why.
Because the meringue got stuck in my teeth.
I see. The pathway of logic, it is there somewhere.
Meringue, dentures.
Ivory, elephants.
Must find the elephants.
Elephants can remember.
POIROT: Then go. Drive about, ask the questions.
Be the person with a nose.
If I had to say which was most likely, I should say my father.
It's more natural for a man to shoot someone, isn't it?
I don't think my mother would have fired a gun.
(SHOTS)
Who else was in the house when it happened?
There was an old housekeeper. She was half blind and a bit deaf.
Sometimes there was my aunt.
And there was a foreign girl. An au pair girl.
She'd be my governess when I was young.
She'd come back to help Mummy, who'd been unwell.
Ariadne!
My word!
Come in! Thank you.
Where did we last meet? The Llewellyn wedding, was it?
All the bridesmaids in a vile shade of apricot!
Funny, the things one remembers.
Bridesmaids!
Geldings.
Dogs.
Other things one forgets. I saw my god-daughter the other day.
Celia Ravenscroft. Do you remember the Ravenscrofts?
The Ravenscrofts.
Wait a minute. That was that very sad tragedy, wasn't it?
Yes. It wasn't far from here. I never knew them in Sussex.
I knew them in Amritsar. Not in Sussex.
She used to wear a wig. Do you remember?
Who? Margaret? Yes!
She wore a wig!
I don't know if she had cancer if she was just bald.
She tried to persuade me to get one.
Bit bloody hard in Amritsar!
Awful business though.
At the time of the shooting, I was in America.
Speaking engagements. You're so modern, Ariadne!
No-one else in my circle has speaking engagements!
They only left the house to take a walk.
They didn't come back for their dinner.
Somebody or other found them dead.
The revolver was lying by their bodies.
Bloody hard on the dog, I thought.
Rotten way to treat an animal.
They kept a revolver in the house? Military type. They often do.
Fear of the natives, you see.
Not usually a problem in Sussex.
Unfathomable things in everybody's lives.
She was neurotic, always. Was she?
Very nervy. Didn't like India at all.
Odd girl.
And the other one. I expect you heard the gossip.
What was the gossip, Julia?
He was writing his memoirs. She was taking dictation.
Who? Margaret? No!
The French girl!
She was young. And French.
There was talk.
People thought he might have shot his
wife because he wanted to marry her.
Then why shoot himself as well? Good point!
I always thought it was more about Margaret.
I can't help thinking there might have been a man.
Why do you think that? Oh, the wigs.
Sexual display. Mating ritual.
I thought you said she had them because she was bald.
Oh, she was pretty too.
Legs.
All I'm saying is one of them was having an affair.
In this part of the world, Ariadne,
one either hunts or one has affairs.
It is a variation on what the French call le bain de surprise.
I should say it's a surprise.
Hot water followed by cold water. Is that right?
Oui. The scalding hot and the freezing cold.
The principle, it is one of severe shock to the system.
And is often used in conjunction with the electro-shock therapy.
Bloody hell.
I'm quite glad I'm normal.
We may all be thankful, mon ami, that
we are in possession of our minds.
Some of us more so than others.
But the question, it is this.
Who has brought le professeur to this place and secured him?
The night watchman said the door wasn't forced.
Is there a key that is missing? No.
Everything is in order.
No fingerprints. And Dr Willoughby himself?
The man's in shock.
I let him go back to Kent. We can interview him later.
Oh. Er... Hi.
You mind me coming in? It's against regulations.
No, no, mademoiselle. Pas du tout.
Levez-vous a l'avance?
Huh?
No.
I've never been down here before.
Creepy, isn't it?
I have the kettle boiling if you gentlemen would like a cup of tea.
Do you live locally, Miss McDermott? James Street.
It's about a ten-minute walk.
Did you walk home on the night Professor Willoughby was murdered?
Yes.
Do you live alone? No.
I share an apartment with some other girls.
Is there someone can vouch for you being at home all night?
Did I say I was at home all night? I don't remember that.
May I enquire, mademoiselle, from where do you originate?
Boston area.
But I always wanted to come to London.
I guess I just had a yen to live in England for a while
and do the things that English people do.
By which, I do not mean murdering eminent professors of psychiatry.
So you think it was an English person who has done this.
I'd say the stakes are high, wouldn't you?
How well did you know Professor Willoughby?
I didn't know him at all.
You can't tell us anything about what he's currently working on.
I'm a filing clerk. I don't know anything about psychiatry.
I do the files from A to Zed.
I just answer the telephone, make the tea.
If you please to return to the night of the murder.
At what hour did you leave your work?
Usual time. Around 5:30.
And where did you go then?
I went home.
But you just said you didn't.
I don't think so.
It's a murder inquiry, miss.
Yeah.
OK, I'm sorry.
Er... I went home.
I didn't see any of the other girls.
I had sardines on toast.
And then I went to bed.
So nobody can corroborate your story.
I guess not.
It is strange that Dr Willoughby also
has no alibi for the night in question.
He doesn't? But surely his wife...
He says he spent the night here in his flat.
Oh.
I see.
I didn't know that.
I assumed he'd gone home.
Does Nanny Matcham - I mean Mrs Matcham - live here?
Who shall I say? Say... Miss Ariadne.
Come in, ma'am. Thank you so much.
Well, well, it must be years!
It IS years, Nanny.
What a lot of photographs you have.
Yes, I have, haven't I?
All my little boys and girls.
All over the world I went.
I know, Nanny.
Where were you? In India?
Shimla. Hong Kong. Egypt.
That time I came out to the Punjab,
20-odd years ago.
Was it the Ravenscrofts you were with?
Service family.
Did you look after their children? No.
Not me. No, I was with the Barnabys.
Here's your tea, Mrs Matcham.
Thank you, my dear.
Of course, I knew the Ravenscrofts.
They were great friends with the Barnabys.
Were they? Yes. And the Burton-Coxes.
I'll finish that. I'll get on with the laundry.
Thank you, my dear.
You really are such a help.
Did you say the Burton-Coxes?
Or did I mean the Carter-Foxes?
You know who I mean. They were great friends.
Everybody was very friendly out there.
Did you by any chance meet the
Ravenscrofts when you were on that visit?
No, I didn't.
What were they like?
Well...
They had that trouble.
What trouble was that, Nanny?
Oh, an awful thing happened.
Did it?
I heard they were a nice couple.
Oh. Yes, yes, they were a very nice couple.
And it was a shock.
They said that she'd always been touched.
And then there was that story of the baby and the river.
Took the babe from its pram.
And threw it into the river.
Just threw it into the river.
What was the trouble in Amritsar, Nanny?
Well, she was in that mental place.
And they let her out.
It happened all over again.
What happened, Nanny?
They'd let her have them back, the boy and the girl.
It was the boy this time.
Of course, we all knew it was her.
Who, Nanny?
Well, whichever one of them it was.
It's so lovely to see you again.
I remember you when you had your little button boots.
You followed me down the lane.
They...
They fell off a cliff.
Didn't they?
Or something of that kind.
Something of that kind, Nanny, yes.
Nanny?
Mrs Buckle, she's fast asleep.
Perhaps you could - She likes her nap.
Leave her to me. Thank you.
Ma'am, was you asking about the general and his wife?
Yes. Did you know them? Used to char for them, I did.
My day was a Tuesday so I...
Do you mind if I ask you something direct? I've had a long day.
Do you think it was a suicide pact? No. Not them.
They were happy. She was a bonny woman.
Always beautifully turned out.
I believe she'd taken to wearing a wig.
Yeah, she had several wigs. Several?
Four. Proper expensive. One was auburn. One had little grey curls.
She used to send them to a place up in London
to get redressed . Eugene and something.
Was she in poor health? She was.
I don't know what was wrong with her,
but she had to have an operation.
She went up Harley Street. When she come back, she was better.
The general? A bit of heart trouble.
But he took his pills and he was fine.
He enjoyed it when the sister came to visit.
Sister? Whose sister? Lady Ravenscroft's.
I didn't know she had a sister.
Sir, I appreciate this is a time of loss. But...
You say Professor Willoughby was retired.
I said semi-retired.
Did he come to the institute every day?
My father kept to his own timetable. Which was, I concede, erratic.
He'd work all night and sleep all day if it suited him.
Was he married?
My mother passed away some years ago.
Never remarried? Some gentlemen do. No.
No, he did not remarry.
Does the Willoughby Institute pass to you now, sir?
Not at all. It's run by a trust.
I'm a trustee, that's all.
Are you aware of any resentment, any
animosity, professional or otherwise,
which your father might have incurred?
My father was very highly respected.
And it was last night that you told me
that it is many years since your father abandoned
his experiments with the hydrotherapy.
Yes, that's right.
And this is not a technique that you yourself employ?
No. I talk to my patients.
I prescribe appropriate medication.
Look, the hydro room has been in disuse
for just about as long as I can remember.
And yet the murderer knew how to use it.
So it would seem.
I think you know how to use it too. Don't you, sir?
(DOOR OPENS)
I thought you might need some tea.
Thank you, Jacqueline.
Mrs Willoughby, your house is charming.
Thank you.
I understand you also keep a small apartment at the institute.
That's not mine. That's his.
I've barely been in it.
Ahem.
Sugar?
Must have been someone quite strong, or more than one person,
to have manipulated the professor into the contraption.
Either that or he got into it voluntarily.
Why on earth would he do so?
Je ne sais pas.
But it seems as though someone is giving
him back a soupcon of his own medicine.
Medicine he hasn't used in nigh on 20 years.
You think it's a patient with a grievance?
It's possible.
♪ PIANO
Celia, darling, we're rehearsing.
We need to talk.
I've only got this room booked for an hour. Can you come back?
Hello. Inspector Beale, isn't it?
Good evening, Mrs Oliver. Are you well?
I'm absolutely jiggered. I've spent all day
driving round Sussex chasing elephants.
Right. Well... Good luck.
No, no, you must think me a complete ninny.
I don't mean real elephants. I mean people elephants.
I'm trying to find out if anyone can
recall anything of the Ravenscroft case.
Eastbourne. The couple on the clifftops.
That was a curly one. Still is.
I know the officer on the case.
Bill Garroway. Retired now.
May I have his number?
I should have it here somewhere.
(HUMMING)
Celia?
Ohh!
Are you all right?
Oh! Good, strong black coffee. Just what I need.
Merci, madame.
These are all the people I interviewed.
I wrote down everything that seemed pertinent.
But it's such a muddle.
The principal suggestions are these.
That General Ravenscroft was writing his memoir of his India days.
And that he was smitten with a young
woman who acted as his secretary.
The result being that he shot his wife
because he hoped to marry the girl.
But then was horror-stricken by what he had done.
And shot himself.
Or Margaret discovered the affair.
And then shot him.
And then herself.
Oh, and Margaret had been ill.
Possibly cancer.
It appears her hair had fallen out.
Because she had several wigs.
It says here... she had four wigs.
Four.
What do you think, madame? Do you
think that seems a little excessive?
I do really. You might have one, and an extra
one for when you sent the other to be dressed.
But why did she have four?
I haven't got anywhere, have I? Mais bien.
I think it will always remain a mystery, madame.
And now I must set myself to consider
the case of Professor Willoughby.
I bid you good night. I even went to see my old nanny.
She knew the Ravenscrofts in India.
She was sure there was a mental case in the family.
One of them - Nanny wasn't sure which - was unstable.
One of whom? One of the sisters.
The sisters? Margaret had a sister.
Never heard of her before.
She wasn't at Margaret's wedding.
That's odd in itself, isn't it?
Continuer de parler, madame.
She was in an asylum for years.
It seems possible that she'd killed children.
Even, perhaps, her own children.
Then she'd had treatment.
Then she was cured. Or paroled. Or released, at any rate.
She went out to Margaret in India, where there was another incident.
Again connected with children. Which was hushed up.
But might that explain what's worrying Mrs Burton-Cox?
Insanity in the family. Non, non.
No, madame, that is conjecture merely.
What you discovered in Sussex was merely
the mirrors and the smoke. Nothing real.
Madame, what is certain is that they were
a couple who were devoted to each other
and lived together happily.
So why, on the evening of the most beautiful day,
should they take a walk together along the cliffs,
taking with them a revolver and a dog?
What's the dog got to do with it? Je sais pas.
But all of your elephants, they mentioned the dog.
Yes.
Tell to me something that was said.
One of the elephants said that the
dog was devoted to Lady Ravenscroft.
Another said that it bit her.
No, no. It is nothing.
Merely an elephant remembering a dog.
I can help you no further, madame. Pardonnez-moi.
My name is Desmond Burton-Cox.
Yes. I have heard of the enquiries of your mother.
Monsieur, please to be brief. As you can see, I am very busy.
My mother had no right pestering Mrs Oliver like that.
It's no concern of hers whether I marry Celia.
Mothers are always concerned.
She's not really my mother. I'm adopted.
Why are you here, monsieur?
Someone attacked me at the music school this evening.
And you do not know who it was. No, I don't.
The point is, my mother's a little... unhinged.
I fear she may have put someone up to it.
Why should she wish to do that?
When I was a child, let's just say she did some terrible things.
Now she wants to stop me getting married.
She's been trying to scare Celia with awful rumours...
How long have you known Mademoiselle Celia, monsieur?
All my life.
My people were in India, like hers.
I was boarded for the holidays in Suffolk. We played together.
But why should your mother wish to stop you getting married?
Because she's mean, possessive.
If you go against her, she's vindictive.
When I was 15, she took me to a psychiatrist.
Pour quoi?
I'd formed an attachment to someone and I wouldn't give it up.
My mother was livid and marched me off to Dr Willoughby.
Please to sit.
Oh, darling!
What the goddam hell have you been saying?
My wife...
I thought you had her under control!
And who saw you that evening?
I can't remember. I don't know if anyone saw me.
I might have gone for a walk.
I can't remember.
What was your father working on?
Did he have... a special line of enquiry?
Behaviour patterns in twins.
Genetic characteristics,
similar and dissimilar environments,
blood types, pathologies.
What else would you like to know?
The name of someone who could vouch for your whereabouts, Doctor.
Otherwise, you're in a bit of a sticky wicket, aren't you?
Hey.
Got a minute?
Pardon?
May I exchange a word or two, Detective Inspector?
If you would be so kind.
Inspector Garroway, if you please to tell us everything you know.
The Ravenscrofts married in 1913.
She was a well-born girl. Originally from Kent.
She had a sister, Dorothea, who married a Captain Jarrow.
They were blighted by misfortune though.
Dorothea's husband died in the war.
Leaving her with two children.
The youngest, a boy, fell into a pond and drowned.
At first, they said the older sister was to blame.
But then it turned out there was another story.
One of the neighbours said the mother herself had done it.
Got angry with the boy.
Pushed him in the pond. Held him under.
She breaks down under questioning.
I mean, she went raving mad.
Had to be hospitalised.
She spends years in treatment.
And then, for some reason, they pronounce her cured.
And she returns to live with the family.
So, Mr Garroway, was she staying with
the Ravenscrofts when they were shot?
No. Are you sure?
Yes. She died three weeks before.
She takes a lot of tranquilisers and she sleepwalks.
One night, she leaves the house,
wanders along the cliff edge,
loses her footing, and over she goes.
They don't find her till the next morning.
Lady Ravenscroft took it very bad.
Had a bit of a breakdown herself.
She spends a fortnight in a sanatorium.
Then she comes back, apparently better.
Three days later, she's dead.
No-one has the first idea of a motive, then or now.
The general has a good record.
The wife is well liked.
They played piquet in the evening.
Go for walks.
No money worries.
A bit of poor health, but time of life.
Were there fingerprints on the weapon?
Clear prints of the both of them.
But no suggestion as to who fired it last.
Could there be a third party?
They would have had to have got ruddy close!
No, it all points to a suicide pact and yet...
With the suicide, they leave the notes.
Exactly. Could someone have stolen the note?
Who else was in the house on that day?
There was...
A Betsy Whittaker.
Cook and housekeeper. Been with them since the dawn of time.
Didn't see too clearly. Nor hear too clearly either.
There was a visitor staying. A Zelie Rouxelle.
Foreign. Don't think she understood much.
And the gardener. His alibi stood up. That's it.
Have you interviewed Betsy Whittaker?
She was more concerned about the dog.
Le chien.
What do you think happened, Superintendent?
I think old sins have long shadows.
That's what my mother used to say.
Oui.
Madame, do we have the name of the supplier of the wigs?
Why are you suddenly interested? You didn't care tuppence before!
I've got that. It's Eugene and Rosentelle. Formerly of Bond Street.
Now Tooting Bec.
Good afternoon. Have you an appointment?
No, I'm afraid I haven't.
You're in luck. Monsieur Eugene can do you in ten minutes.
Is it a permanent today? No, no.
That sounds horrible.
I don't think it could be much worse
than it already is, do you, madam?
Let us take off the split ends, at least.
No, thank you. I would simply like to ask you some
questions about Eugene and Rosentelle of Bond Street.
Hairpieces to the gentry. Oh, the old days.
Bond Street, Bert. Remember?
That was the life.
But Tooting seems most pleasant.
What does madam want?
I would like to ask you about a former client.
I want to know about some wigs. I'm terribly sorry.
We do not do wigs no more.
They were for a friend of mine. A person I went to school with.
Lady Ravenscroft.
You was at school with Lady Ravenscroft?
Yes. Yes, I was.
Where do you live now, Buckingham Palace?
Mayfair.
How may we be of assistance, Your Ladyship?
Perhaps you remember the tragedy at Eastbourne 13 years ago.
I'm looking into it on behalf of their
daughter, the Honourable Celia Ravenscroft.
Oh, Lady Ravenscroft. Yes. She was so nice.
Good-looking too. I remember reading about it in the paper.
She had four wigs, didn't she?
Do people often have four? Most people have two.
Lady Ravenscroft had two to begin with.
Then she ordered extra.
Did she come to Bond Street to collect them?
No. I think it was a young lady, a French lady, come
up and give us all the sizes and colours and styles.
There was one with a pretty grey streak in it for parties.
And one with strawberry-blonde curls, I recall.
One of Bert's finest.
I remember thinking, when I read about the business,
'That's bleedin' odd. It's only three
weeks ago she's bought new wigs.
Now she's gone and shot herself.' Imagine!
Ah.
Mademoiselle Ravenscroft. Hercules Poirot.
I...
I thought Mrs Oliver was meeting me.
Ah. I see the Madame Oliver, she has
been rather vague with her invitation.
It is I that you are meeting, mademoiselle.
Please to permit.
I am a private detective. I assist Madame
Oliver with her enquiries on your behalf.
Please to sit, mademoiselle.
Thank you.
Mademoiselle, Monsieur Burton-Cox, he has been to see me.
Oh. I thought he was rehearsing all day.
There's a concert tomorrow. Beverley Hall. Quite important.
It was last night that he has come to see me, mademoiselle.
He cares for you most deeply.
Mademoiselle, may I ask you a question that is personal?
I don't know who you are so...
Do you wish to marry Desmond Burton-Cox?
Yes, I do. Satisfied?
Then nothing should prevent it.
If you are in love with Monsieur Desmond
Burton-Cox, then that is all that matters.
The rest of your life with Monsieur Desmond Burton-Cox
is all that you should be concerned with. N'est-ce pas?
Is he well provided for financially? Excuse me. That's damned rude.
Pardon. He has a rather pitiful allowance.
But I have my own means. I work for a living.
Bien sur.
This allowance, mademoiselle, it is
something that his mother could withhold?
You mean she'd cut off the money if he marries me?
I hadn't thought of that.
You know who is his natural mother? No, no, I don't.
Does he? I don't think so.
He doesn't worry about it. He's not a worrying kind.
But you are, mademoiselle. Mais oui?
You are.
Tell to me, if you please, Madame Burton-Cox,
was she friendly with your late mother and father?
Did you ever meet her as a child?
I don't think I did. I know she was out in India.
My people were too. But I was at school or holidaying in Suffolk.
That's where I met Desmond. In the care of a French girl.
Yes, yes. Zelie. Lovely Zelie.
Look, whoever you are, if I'm going to marry Desmond,
and live with him forever, I need to know the truth.
I don't want dark secrets in our lives.
I want the truth.
But the truth, mademoiselle...
..she can be cruel.
(PHONE)
Hercules Poirot speaks.
Poirot, it's Inspector Beale. I have that information you asked for.
Desmond Burton-Cox's natural mother was an actress.
She moved to California, where she found
considerable success in moving pictures
under the name Katy Lestrange.
18 months ago, Katy Lestrange died of
a barbiturate overdose in Pasadena.
She left her entire fortune, several million
dollars, to her son Desmond in a trust.
He gets it when he's 25.
And who administers this trust? Who do you think?
Mrs Burton-Cox.
Can you get for me the deed of covenant?
I'll give it a go. Oh, and Poirot, could
you come over to the Willoughby Institute?
There's been something of a turn-up. Oui. Tout de suite.
Miss McDermott, will you come in now, please?
Repeat to Mr Poirot what you said earlier.
Asseyez-vous, mademoiselle.
On the night of the murder,
Dr Willoughby was with me.
Here in his flat.
In bed.
He's a decent man.
He's trying to save my reputation.
But I can't stand by and see him swing for something he didn't do.
And he was with you all of the night?
Till dawn.
We slept a little.
Then I went home. Had a bath.
And came back to work again.
It must have been at that time that
the night watchman raised the alarm.
David...
Dr Willoughby...
..elected to keep his mouth shut for my sake.
But he is a fool.
It is a brave thing that you do, ma petite.
My reputation was shot in the States.
Might as well be shot here too.
I have a question.
It was last summer that you arrived in England?
Yes. Six months ago.
On the SS France.
So you were still living in Boston in March of this year.
Yes.
Can you remember what you were doing on the 17th?
The 17th of March?
Oui.
How am I expected to remember that? You do not recall this day?
No. I don't.
No idea.
Bon.
Do you know a Mademoiselle Celia Ravenscroft?
Never heard of her. Who is she?
Oh, it is of no consequence.
Detective Inspector, may I have the use of your car?
Merci.
I'm not exactly proud of myself, Poirot.
Things are pretty awkward around here.
Somehow Jacqueline seems to have found
out about the whole wretched business.
You asked her to perjure herself in court and she would not?
I'm afraid that is correct.
Mademoiselle Marie McDermott, she provides you with the alibi
and you are no longer the suspect.
She said something about the dictates of her conscience.
She's quite religious, you know.
She is Catholic? Irish background, I believe.
Nice girl.
Tell to me more about the patients of your father.
Do you recall a Dorothea Jarrow?
Of course. He treated her for quite a long time.
My father took a special interest. Merci.
She's dead now, isn't she? Oui, d'accord.
What can you tell to me about her treatment?
Mrs Jarrow was considered to be one of my father's triumphs.
Her husband had died on the Western front.
That left her rather fragile, I'm afraid.
So she was disturbed mentally.
No. No, that this point, she was not thought to be.
But her GP had called in my father
because she didn't seem to be getting
over her bereavement in the normal way.
Whatever that may be.
To my father's eyes, Dorothea's condition
presented very decided dangers.
She was prone to mood swings and acts of violence.
He thought she should be kept under observation.
And he was proved right. Because then the first incident happened.
Oui. A boy, he has drowned.
Yes. How did you know?
According to Mrs Jarrow, her elder child, a
girl, had attacked the younger, a little boy.
She said she hit him with a spade and he
fell into an ornamental pond and drowned.
At first, Mrs Jarrow's version was believed.
And then other stories started to emerge.
Housemaid, telegraph boy.
Both said they saw Mrs Jarrow push her
son into the water and hold him under.
The court ruled that Mrs Jarrow should be committed
to secure psychiatric care. And she was.
But you see, my poor late father
subscribed to a new school of treatment.
Which held that once certain rehabilitation targets had been reached,
targets attainable by hydrotherapy and electro-shock,
the patient could resume a normal life.
And this treatment of hydrotherapy, it was administered to Dorothea?
Yes. And in due course, two or three years, home she went.
She was considered to be completely recovered.
Shortly afterwards, she went to India.
Stayed with her twin sister who was in Amritsar...
Excuse me, mon ami.
Did you say her twin sister? Yes.
They were twins. Yes.
Madame Jarrow and Lady Ravenscroft.
Margaret and Dorothea were twins?!
Why has no person told to me this?
But this was my father's special area of research.
I thought you knew. No.
He was an authority on twins.
So perhaps Margaret suffers from the same malady as Dorothea.
No, no, she was perfectly sane.
And devoted to looking after her unfortunate sibling.
General Ravenscroft had throughout paid for his sister-in-law
to receive the best treatment in England.
He was on good terms with my father.
When they returned from India, they often had Dorothea to stay.
Why was he so kind to her?
Well, I think I can tell you that.
When he was a young subaltern,
Dorothea was considered a fabulously beautiful woman.
Alistair Ravenscroft fell in love with her.
And then, I think, he caught a glimpse.
Saw behind the eyes the danger zone.
And so he proposed to Margaret instead.
He marries the sister but he is in love with them both!
The devil!
Poirot, he owes to you an apology, madame. He is imbecile.
I see now that the two cases are connected.
There is a point of conversion which links them.
What is that? The Willoughby Institute.
Morning.
Ah, Poirot. I forgot you'd be here.
One word if I may, Doctor. Please.
Mademoiselle.
In your files, mon ami, there are many
histories that are very absorbing.
But you know there is a patient that is missing?
I ask about the boy who has 15 years of age.
A certain Desmond Burton-Cox.
Where is his case file?
Um...
There is no case file, Poirot.
The boy, he has been brought to you many times.
Yes, he was. But I saw him unofficially.
I took no payment and so there is no file.
You took no payment?
Well, not in the usual way.
I'm sorry, I do not understand. She had no money, Poirot.
Look, self-control is not one of my stronger qualities.
I just have to live with it.
I see.
But I only ask about the boy Desmond.
What was he like?
Remarkable power of recall.
The smallest details of his childhood were easy to surface.
But lacking in self-confidence.
I believe that he had an interest that was almost obsessional.
In... I do not know who. A woman or an older man?
A French woman, I believe.
Zazie. Susie.
She was 25 or so at the time and he 15.
Would you say he was in love?
I would say so, yes.
Not that I know very much about that particular emotion.
I've spoken to my god-daughter Celia.
Have you? Oh, good. What did she say?
First, there's someone I wish you to meet.
Mrs Burton-Cox, this is Monsieur Poirot.
Monsieur Poirot is... my assistant.
Enchante, madame.
Is he French? I can't stand the French.
Non, madame. I am Belgian.
You have concerns about the marriage of your son
Desmond with Mademoiselle Celia Ravenscroft.
That is so.
Young people today, they rush into things!
But it's important to know the background, don't you think?
The psychological background.
Well, there are certain... risks that one might not wish to take.
But the persons taking these risks are
Celia and Desmond, not you, madame.
Beg your pardon?
Desmond, he is not your son by birth.
What's that got to do with anything?
When he was young, did you take care of him?
Of course I did! Mrs Oliver, I...
You must have had some help. Help? Why would I need help?
I'm his mother! Perhaps in the holidays.
Oh... Yes, of course. In the holidays, he
went to stay with some people in Suffolk.
And in Suffolk, he was in the care of a French girl.
Zelie. Zelie Rouxelle.
I've had quite enough of this!
Goodbye!
What occurred between Desmond and Zelie Rouxelle, madame?
Do either of you have the faintest idea what it's like?!
When your own child takes one look at you and starts to scream?
And after a few months with that beloved
nanny, I could do nothing with him!
She's a... She's a devious little baggage!
And I made jolly sure to intercept her letters later on.
He's my son and I will say what happens to him!
Ladies and gentlemen! Five minutes till the start of the recital!
Mademoiselle Celia. Poirot.
Mademoiselle, do you know, and please to forgive me,
how it was that Aunt Dorothea died?
Yes, I do. And your cousins.
The little girl and the little boy who was drowned?
We tended not to speak of them.
But perhaps they were also looked after
during the holidays by your au pair Zelie.
No, no. Zelie just had me and Desmond.
But she returned to assist your mother at the end.
And she also takes dictations from your late father, does she not?
Yes.
So what was the involvement of your late
father with the Willoughby Institute?
What is the Willoughby Institute? It was where your aunt was treated.
I don't know anything at all. I see.
Um...
Mademoiselle, please to think very carefully.
Is it possible that there was anyone else staying at Overcliff
at the time of the deaths of your parents?
Anyone perhaps whom the police did not know about.
I don't know how because if there had been,
Zelie would have mentioned it, wouldn't she?
Oui.
Have you remained in contact with Zelie?
I wrote to her countless times. But all my letters were sent back.
She simply disappeared.
I'd love to have seen her. She was a marvellous character.
And Desmond, does he write to her? How could he?
We don't know where she lives.
And you yourself, have you ever returned to Overcliff?
No.
Why? Why, do you think I should?
Drive out my demons, that sort of thing?
Ladies and gentlemen!
Please take your seats!
Madame Oliver! I'm so sorry.
They are seated. I'm so sorry.
Is Celia there? Yes, she is.
Good. That's very good. No, monsieur!
Merci.
The key, it is Zelie. Of this I am sure.
But how do we find her?
Miss Ravenscroft, good of you to come.
Look at all those diamonds!
He's playing without music. Clever chap.
CELIA: There was a foreign girl. She'd
be my governess when I was young.
She'd come back to help Mummy.
DESMOND: I'd formed an attachment to
someone and I wouldn't give it up.
MRS BURTON-COX: After that beloved
nanny, I could do nothing with him!
CELIA: All my letters were sent back.
She simply disappeared.
Very good.
How long is the interval? That is it!
How could I be so stupid?!
Enjoying it, Ariadne?
Please to forgive the intrusion, monsieur.
Poirot. I really can't talk to you now
. We're about to go on for the second half.
Non! It will not be possible for you
to play the remainder of this concert.
Unless you give to me the address of Mademoiselle Zelie Rouxelle.
I don't know it. Yes, you do know it.
I can't remember it. We have to go on.
Monsieur, you play Bach from memory.
You have the memory of an elephant.
I demand to know the address of
Mademoiselle Zelie Rouxelle, tout de suite!
(KNOCKING) Mr Burton-Cox! It's time, gentlemen!
Merci, monsieur.
Taxi!
Mr Poirot!
It's Bill Garroway. Superintendent.
This is Sprat. Wife named him that.
She died. I'm stuck with him!
Oh, Inspector Beale told me you'd be here.
Asked me to deliver this. Ah.
He's been called out on a case. Merci.
I am so sorry you have been put to so much trouble.
No trouble at all, sir. I bid you good night.
Come on, Sprat!
Superintendent.
Tell to me about Sprat.
Does he bite?
He bites his own backside mainly.
Not exactly clever.
And please to recollect, the dog that lived with
the General and Lady Ravenscroft, did it bite?
It's a funny thing you mentioned that, sir.
The housekeeper said the dog had turned
on its mistress a couple of days before.
And sure enough, when we did the autopsy on Lady Ravenscroft,
there's a couple of dog bite marks maybe a week or two old.
So that dog, it was clever, huh?
Merci.
Taxi!
Where are you off to in such a hurry?
Paris! Whitehaven Mansions and then
Victoria station for the boat train!
Vite! Right you are, guvnor.
(WHISTLE)
I will be with you in one moment, monsieur.
Merci.
Hercules Poirot.
Do I have the honour to address Mademoiselle Zelie Rouxelle?
As I said to you in my telegram, I wish to ask
you about the General and the Lady Ravenscroft.
I believe that you are employed by them.
Yes. I was an au pair for Celia.
You knew also the boy Desmond. Desmond Burton-Cox.
Yes, we still correspond. But you do so in secret, I think.
His mother disapproves.
There is nothing of which to disapprove. We are friends.
He and Celia intend to marry.
He has told me. I am pleased for them.
But difficulties are being put in their way.
Mademoiselle Celia is being asked to tell to the
Desmond family exactly what happened at Overcliff.
It is now since 13 years. But she cannot do that.
For she does not know.
It was thought advisable to tell her nothing.
She accepted it. She was too young to understand.
She is old enough now to understand.
But what is there to understand, monsieur?
It was a double suicide.
And you have found no reason to doubt that?
The police found no reason to doubt it.
So there is nothing more you can tell to me, Mademoiselle Rouxelle?
I fear I cannot.
It was a very long time ago.
For how long were you living at Overcliff before their deaths?
For two months. And the sister of Lady Ravenscroft,
Dorothea Jarrow, she was also living there at this time, was she not?
How much do you know?
It has to end. You understand that.
Yeah.
It always ends.
I'm so sorry, my darling.
Guys like you are always sorry.
But guess what. I'll be OK.
May I help you? Yes, thank you.
I wonder if you can.
I wanted to see if there was anything in your files
pertaining to the treatment of Dorothea Jarrow.
Can I ask what business this is of yours?
She was my aunt. I'm Celia Ravenscroft.
I think something funny is going on. Sure.
OK.
Why don't we take a look?
Dorothea Jarrow had been treated for the mental illness.
But had shown some improvement, n'est-ce pas?
Yes.
And it was so beneficial for her to spend
some time in a normal family home.
And Dorothea and Margaret, they were fond of each other?
There was a bond between them.
A bond of dependence and love.
And in many ways, they were alike.
Pardon.
But in twins, although there is this bond of love...
..if something should occur to break
it, then it is shattered forever.
Oh yes, I know.
And love, it may easily turn to hate.
And it is easier to hate what you have
once loved than to remain indifferent.
Do you speak from experience?
Tell to me about Dorothea Jarrow.
She lived in a state of terrible strain.
She had had some advanced therapy.
But it seemed not to do much good.
She was never happy.
And she had a great aversion to children.
Oui. And that led to incidents most serious, n'est-ce pas?
I heard what happened in her early life.
I heard what happened in India.
I have no first-hand knowledge of that.
No, but there are events of which you
do have the first-hand knowledge.
Isn't it better to leave things when
at least they have been accepted?
Mademoiselle, what happened on that day at Overcliff,
it could have been a double suicide, it could have been a murder,
it could have been... one of a number of possibilities.
But from what you have just said, from that one little sentence,
I consider that you know what happened on that day.
And you know what happened in the weeks before.
I cannot tell you anything.
I'm sorry.
Was there someone else at Overcliff?
Someone of whom the police know nothing?
No.
I think that you lie.
The General Ravenscroft was at first in love with Dorothea.
Then his affections, they change.
And he marries her twin sister Margaret.
What do you suppose that that has done to Dorothea?
I suppose that it has destroyed her, monsieur.
And the general, he has realised.
Yes. He knew.
He had a good heart.
And you were also in love with him, I think.
You may not speak to me like that.
No, no, mademoiselle. I do not say that you had a love affair.
I say only that you loved him.
One can love and serve and still be happy.
Even if one is not loved in return.
You did serve him, mademoiselle.
You served him loyally in the great crisis of his life.
Tell to me what happened.
I know that you know.
You pretended to the police that you had only the little English.
Then you left Overcliff at once.
But you were there. And I need you to
tell me who else was in the house.
Why should I tell you anything?
My life ended that day.
It was as if I had been shot.
I have hidden myself away.
Here, in a back street in Paris. Look at me!
I've had no life at all.
Why must I speak now?
Because you have a heart, Zelie.
And because Celia and Desmond, they need to know.
Mademoiselle, neither you nor I are married.
We may never be married.
But they should be.
I do hope you had a nice time in Paris.
I've been to the shipping office. Here are the records you wanted.
Merci, madame.
Bon.
And Poirot, he has also a document for you.
This is the deed of covenant for the legacy
left to Desmond by his natural mother.
The trust, it is to be administered by Madame Burton-Cox
and her solicitor as trustees...
..until...
(READS) Until he reaches the age of 25 or
until he marries, whichever is the earlier.
So if he marries Celia, he'll come into a fortune.
Oui.
But how does this fit in with Mrs Burton-Cox wanting
to know about the deaths of the Ravenscrofts?
She is not concerned with the deaths of the Ravenscrofts, non.
Her sole concern is to prevent the marriage.
(BUZZER) Why?
Because...
She is stealing the money of Desmond and
needs to pay it back before he notices.
So if he marries Celia now... Fin de partie.
I say, excuse me! I've lost Celia.
I'm worried. She said something about going to Eastbourne.
Exorcising ghosts or some such nonsense.
This was straight after she came back from the Willoughby Institute.
She has been to the Willoughby Institute?
Now she has gone to Eastbourne?
Alors, she is in danger. We must hurry!
Hello.
Excuse me.
Excuse me. What are you doing here?
Why are you...
Aagh!
Up there, sir! Ravenscroft!
(WHISTLE) Miss Ravenscroft!
Help! Help!
Come on. It's all right. We've got you.
You're under arrest!
All safe. All safe.
Monsieur, mademoiselle.
The question to be put, it is this.
Was the deaths of the Ravenscrofts a suicide?
Or was it murder?
Because one or the other must be true.
But Poirot, he says to you
that both are true.
And I fear, Mademoiselle Celia,
it is a tragedy of two people who loved each other,
and who died for love.
And it will be hard for you to hear.
I'm ready. Bon.
When Madame Oliver set out on her visit to old acquaintances,
Poirot at first seemed to take no notice.
Alors, he had another case which seemed
to him infinitely more important.
For that, I apologise to you, Madame.
For what you found out in your visits into Sussex,
it was vital for the solving of both mysteries.
You know who killed Professor Willoughby?
I have my little theory.
But we shall see.
When I learned that everything, it was
pointing to the Willoughby Institute,
I looked at the evidence in the notebooks of Madame Oliver.
The recollections of these...
..elephants.
At first, they seemed to have no value.
But everything has a value.
Everyone remembers something.
And so I take from one informant one detail, from another, another.
And so we have first of all the evidence of the wigs.
Wigs?
Oui. We learned that Lady Ravenscroft, she had four wigs.
Four! Now this, for Poirot, was a puzzle, huh?
Thank you, Zelie.
We know that, on the day that she died,
Lady Ravenscroft was wearing the wig with the
curls of the colour of the strawberry blonde.
Why is that significant? She might have been wearing any of them.
Oui, but we also have the evidence of the dog.
Dog? What dog? No. Please, be patient.
This dog, it is devoted to its mistress.
But in the last few weeks of her life,
this dog, it has bitten her more than once.
You mean the dog knew she would commit suicide?
Non, it is much more simple than that.
This dog, it knew what no-one else knew.
It knew that she was not his mistress.
She looked like his mistress in the clothes of Margaret.
In the wig of Margaret.
But a dog only recognises what its nose tells to him.
And this dog recognised that this was not his mistress.
So who could it be, this woman?
Could it be her twin sister Dorothea?
But that's impossible. She was dead.
But now I come to something else that was
brought to my attention by Madame Oliver.
The knowledge that Lady Ravenscroft had
recently been in a hospital or a nursing home.
It is believed that she suffered from cancer.
This I learned from the evidence of Julia
Carstairs in your notebook, madame.
So her visits to the hospital pass unremarked.
I don't think Julia Carstairs knew what she was talking about!
It does not matter. Because the General Alistair Ravenscroft,
once he rejects Dorothea and marries her sister,
Dorothea, she becomes very jealous.
Her life, as you say, it goes from the rails.
And we have reason to believe that one and
possibly two children died at her hands.
And the general, having the feelings of guilt so terrible,
pays for her to have treatment at the Willoughby Institute.
DESMOND: Are you saying, sir, that
the mad aunt shot the Ravenscrofts?
Non, monsieur. That is not my solution.
Mademoiselle Celia, I hope you will not be too dismayed by the truth.
It was Dorothea who killed your mother.
Often, they would go for a walk together in the evenings.
But one evening, she returned alone.
She must have run off. She doesn't run off, Dorothea!
She's my wife! What have you done with her?
We should look. You're right.
Where were you walking? Where we always walk.
Something has happened to Margaret.
Come on, Zelie!
Lady Ravenscroft! Where are you? Margaret!
Margaret! (BARKING DOG)
Margaret! Come on.
We'll take the cliff path.
Margaret!
Margaret, what happened?
Was it your sister?
It isn't her fault, Alistair. Damn her!
What did she do?
She pushed me.
She doesn't know what she's doing.
I know it's bad, Zelie.
I know I'll die. No.
I'll get a doctor. There's no time for a doctor.
Please don't let her suffer for it.
Don't let them give her that treatment again.
Promise me, Alistair. Promise me you'll save her.
Zelie. Yes?
Make him do as I ask.
I promise, Margaret.
I promise. Thank you, my darling.
Thank you.
Oh, Margaret.
Margaret!
(CRIES)
Zelie wanted to go for help.
But the general, he said no.
'I made a promise. I must keep it.'
He decided what he would do.
And he asked Zelie to help him.
Forgive me, my darling.
Forgive me.
Celia, are you all right?
It's better to know.
Go on.
They made a plan.
They agreed to say it was Dorothea who walked in
her sleep and fell to her death, not Margaret.
They hid her in a cottage for a week or ten days.
The General Ravenscroft put it about that
his wife had suffered a nervous collapse.
And was in a sanatorium, recovering.
Zelie, she had gone to London and bought wigs to fit Dorothea
from Eugene and Rosentelle of Bond Street.
Then they brought her back.
Good morning, Mrs Whittaker. Have we something nice for lunch?
Yes, madam.
Everyone accepted that this was Lady Ravenscroft.
And thought that she was behaving oddly
because she was still suffering from
shock at the death of her sister.
How could she keep it up? It must have been difficult.
Non, madame. It was not difficult.
Because, at last, she had achieved what she wanted.
She was married to General Alistair Ravenscroft.
But how could my father bear it?
As I said, he made a plan.
Zelie, today is your last day of work.
I am sending you back to Paris.
You cannot do that.
I can, my dear, and I will.
You have given sterling service but I do not
want you mixed up in this. Not any more.
Enough is enough. (CRIES)
There, there.
Zelie.
Stop here.
Hold this. Why?
Because I want to kiss you.
Goodbye, Dorothea. Where are you going?
Hell, I expect.
This is for Margaret.
(SHOT)
And this is for me.
(SHOT)
(BARKING)
He had to keep his promise to his wife.
And he did.
I am so sorry, Mademoiselle Celia.
Bring her in.
Just who are you? And why did you try to kill me?
Please to take off her cap.
This is Marie Jarrow.
The daughter of your aunt Dorothea.
You're my cousin? How did you work it out, Poirot?
The Boston-Irish, mademoiselle.
They venerate the 17th of March.
St Patrick's Day. Oui. There is always a big parade.
Everyone knows what they were doing on the 17th of March.
Also, your accent, mademoiselle.
If you are from Boston, as you say that you are,
in the state of Massachusetts,
then you would pronounce the last letter of
the alphabet zee, but you pronounced it zed.
You are Canadian, mademoiselle.
And Poirot, he has heard this immediately.
Also, you say that you arrived here on the SS France.
But non, Poirot, he has examined the list of passengers.
And there is no Marie McDermott on the France.
But there is a Marie Jarrow.
Your mother killed mine! Celia! Please!
And it is you, Mademoiselle Jarrow,
who killed Professor Willoughby.
He deserved it. Did you see what they did to her?
Those appalling machines? No wonder she went crazy.
But how did you know? She was long gone.
When I was at school, she sent me letters.
I still got them.
She told me what they did to her.
She knew I was too young to understand.
But one day, I would understand.
And one day, I'd come back.
Why have you waited so long?
I had no money. I was just a poor secretary.
I had to earn enough to get to England.
Where you take a job at the Willoughby Institute.
To be honest, it was too easy.
I knew the professor came to work late at night.
So I crawl into David's bed.
And he likes a little sleep after pleasure.
His little sleeps turn into longer sleeps.
It was very clever, that.
To pretend to provide an alibi for the Dr Willoughby.
Whereas, in fact, you were providing an alibi for yourself.
That is clever. Cleverer than you think, madame.
Then she goes to Jacqueline, the wife of Dr Willoughby,
and confesses her affair.
So that this wife will not provide the alibi for her husband.
Meanwhile, she has become friendly with Professor Willoughby.
No doubt you take a great interest in his work.
I told him I was writing a book.
I told him the Willoughby Institute was going
to go down big in the history of psychiatry.
And then you persuade the professor to show to you the hydro room.
You hit him.
You gag him.
And then you drown him.
Also, mademoiselle,
I know that on the day that your mother died,
you were here at Overcliff.
You don't know that, Poirot.
Mais oui, mademoiselle.
Attendez.
Here is my proof.
Ohh. Zelie!
Oh, my children.
I was listening.
I have heard everything that was said.
You know it is true, Marie.
You were here. Your mother sent for you.
You arrived the day she died.
You do remember.
You arrived just in time to hear this.
What are you going to do?
I am going to shoot her.
And then I'm going to shoot myself.
You know what? I have this overpowering
feeling that that's against the law.
Just shooting someone. Just killing them.
If I could have killed him over again, I would!
Was it you who tried to strangle me?
All I wanted was to punish her.
Ruin her.
Why should her life be happy?
Mine wasn't.
Mademoiselle Rouxelle.
As soon as I knew what the general was about
to do, I took Marie away very quickly.
I thought her life would be intolerable if she stayed.
I sent her to relations of mine in Montreal. I told no-one.
And I returned to Paris.
I swore I would never speak of this.
I have broken my vow. Forgive me, Marie.
Non, mademoiselle. You have done the right thing.
Please to take her away.
Desmond? Desmond, where are you?
Desmond! If you're with that girl, I'll skin you alive!
Ah, there you are. Come home at once!
I hope you do not blame me, mademoiselle, for asking for your help.
Non, monsieur. I am glad.
Look.
Now they will have their future.
You and I are elephants, you know.
We're good at remembering. Non, non, madame.
We are the human beings.
And human beings, mercifully, they can forget.