My lady.
Right, let's get this ruddy thing over with, huh?
Your invitation, Sir Anthony. What?
ANNOUNCER: The Right Honourable Lord Smythe, MP, and Lady Smythe.
Sir Peter and Lady Tavistock.
The Right Honourable Sir Anthony Morgan, MP,
the Foreign Secretary, and Lady Celia Morgan.
Mr Harold Waring, MP, Parliamentary Under Secretary to Sir Anthony.
Monsieur Hercule Poirot.
His Honour, Judge Richard Stubbs, KC.
Monsieur.
Monsieur Waring.
"All the beginnings are delightful
The threshold is the place to pause"
Goethe. Ah.
Sir Anthony is a man most busy.
Oh, yes. Always on the go.
(Mutters angrily)
Excuse me.
Merci.
I feel you do not embrace your role, Chief Inspector.
Against the advice of Poirot, you have arranged this whole operation.
Please to do it correctly!
My men are in position, Mr Poirot.
C'est bien.
Because there is the greatest of danger.
The jewels, the paintings, the very presence of Poirot himself.
This Marrascaud - he shall most surely come.
Look at this.
"Vanquishing the Hydra".
One of the Labours of Hercules - Hugo van Druys.
Most of the Labours have been pinched over the past six months.
Somebody must be collecting them. For God's sake, shut up, man.
Wait outside. I'm actually a police sergeant.
I'm actually His Majesty's Foreign Secretary. Wait outside.
Waring, you should read this.
Wretched woman wants carnage.
You understand what's required?
I thought this business had been addressed.
It may be necessary for you to leave the country for a while.
(Sighs)
I imagine it will, sir.
Lie doggo somewhere - comfortable but remote.
I'll make sure you get a bit of pocket money.
I don't want your money, sir.
Good man.
Mademoiselle Lucinda, you look magnifique!
I'm terrified. Do I look terrified?
No, of course not. Why should you be?
This is bait.
Me...I'm bait.
Oui, certainement.
The thief Marrascaud - he will be drawn to this place tonight.
But you are in no danger, mademoiselle.
Poirot, he gives to you his word.
What happens if I want to powder my nose?
Do you come with me? If you wish.
Oh, no, no, no.
Of course not, mademoiselle, no.
There is a guard who is dedicated for the purpose.
When powdering the nose, miss, keep the door locked.
When you're finished, tap on the door,
but don't open it until you hear the response.
(Taps out rhythm)
They say Marrascaud kills for the sheer pleasure of it.
But they also say that Poirot is so intelligent he is scarcely human.
(Chuckles) But even though, he does not listen to this "they".
Comfortable and remote!
(Sighs)
Excuse me.
Ah. Sorry.
Poirot, he will see you now.
(Answering knock)
Sergeant, where the hell are you?
Oh, my God!
Oh, no.
They say Marrascaud kills for the sheer pleasure of it.
(Echoing)..sheer pleasure of it.
But you are in no danger, mademoiselle.
Poirot, he gives to you his word.
(Echoing)..gives to you his word.
(Air pumping)
Poirot, you're as fit as a flea.
No, I...
Whatever you think is wrong with you is simply...up here.
What else is there but...up here?
What you need, my dear fellow, is another case.
Preferably one that puts your life in danger.
That is your advice most considered? It is.
It's cost you ten guineas, so I suggest you act on it.
It was my own fault, Doctor.
Mine alone.
Better not to be a detective at all than to be a detective who has failed.
Look here, you've had a remarkable career
at the expense of having a family.
Nothing wrong with that.
But that's what you've chosen.
For God's sake, at least stir your stumps, get some fresh air.
If you won't walk, go for a drive.
You have driven me before?
Yes, sir. The agency's had me out to you a couple of times, sir.
The name's Williams, sir.
Monsieur Ted Williams? Ah, oui. Mm.
Alors, Monsieur Williams, it is of no interest to me where we go.
You may drive wherever you please.
(Sobs)
Monsieur Williams? I'm terribly sorry, sir.
I just... I've just come over a bit...
Please, please. Please to sit.
Bloody stupid idea this, isn't it?
I'm gonna get the sack now, blubbing like a baby in front of clients.
Pas du tout, monsieur.
Pas du tout.
It's just... this is the last place I ever saw her, isn't it?
Saw whom? Nita.
She was a...maid to that ballerina, Katrina Samoushenka.
Ah, oui.
Nita come over with her from Moscow.
And I had to drive them about the West End.
Well, I drove Nita.
Samoushenka I never really saw,
she just sat in The Savoy sending Nita out on errands.
We swanked about the place, Nita and me.
And we'd come here.
We were so much in love, Mr Poirot.
And then one day, she says she's got to go to Switzerland -
Samoushenka's having a crack-up, she needs treatment.
I says, "Stay with me.
Be my wife, I love you, Nita."
And she's just crying.
That was the last time I ever saw her.
Right here.
Samoushenka took her off to this ruddy place.
(Sniffs) I keep... I keep thinking that I'm all right.
And then I come back here.
I just don't want to go on living no more, I can't bear it, sir.
Monsieur Williams?
Poirot, he will find your Nita.
And if she so wishes,
he will bring her back to this very place, to this very bench.
Poirot, he gives to you his word.
I can't pay you, sir. Non.
There is no charge, mon ami.
This is a thing that Poirot must also do for himself.
I have a ticket, Inspector Lementeuil.
Monsieur Poirot...
whatever are you doing in this foolish place?
I am in pursuit of a lady's maid.
I wish I had time for a social life.
You are telling me the truth, monsieur?
Poirot always tells the truth, why should he not?
Because he has wandered into the middle of an ICPC operation.
The killer Marrascaud - yes.
Scotland Yard thought they had him in London.
But he got away from them.
A girl was torn to pieces.
Oui.
Terrible. Oui.
He now has the complete collection...
..of van Druys pictures and countless jewels.
But he is coming here.
We have information that the Hotel Olympos is where he hides the goods.
If Marrascaud comes openly,
it will be as a guest.
The hotel staff were all accounted for while he was busy en Angleterre.
Of course we would be honoured, Monsieur Poirot,
should you wish to participate with us in this affair.
When you get to the hotel...
..speak to Lieutenant Drouet.
He is undercover.
Poirot can recognise a policeman when he sees one...
..Inspector Lementeuil.
Ladies and gentlemen, your carriage is arrived.
Countess Rossakoff!
HOTELIER: Allez, allez. Regardez.
Quickly, please.
Ah.
Buongiorno, buongiorno...
Gustave, le monsieur la.
Buongiorno!
Ladies and gentlemen, meine Herren und Damen,
signore e signori, messieurs-dames.
Welcome, welcome to the Hotel Olympos,
birthplace of the internationally acclaimed Alpine Spa Therapy.
I am, ich bin, je suis Dr Krier.
Please to call me Francesco.
Out of season as we are, a little of the facility is not quite open.
But my staff... Where is Robert?
When we were here last year, we were very well served by Robert.
Ah, eh...
Roberto is home with his family. He will return to us in the summer.
We shall not be here.
Pointless!
We have Gustave, Mrs Rice.
He will attend to your every desire.
Is my husband here, Francesco? He is indeed, Mrs Clayton.
When you have refreshed yourselves and inspected your rooms,
please may I offer you all a glass of champagne
on the terrace? (Imitates cork popping)
Yes, indeed.
That is essential.
Monsieur Poirot.
"The threshold is the place to pause"
Let us hope that this beginning proves
to be more delightful than the last.
Yes. God, yes.
That poor girl.
Monsieur Waring, it has been a long journey.
Of course.
Excuse me.
MAN: Come on, you silly cow! WOMAN: You've had enough!
I'll give you the back of my hand...
- (Argument continues) WOMAN: You've obviously had enough!
(Water running)
(Argument intensifies)
WOMAN: Don't hurt me, I'm trying to help you.
No, I won't give you... Please don't.
Please don't... (Blow is struck, woman cries out)
MAN: Out of my sight!
(Door slams, woman sobs)
Ah, Monsieur Poirot. Champagne?
Si charmant. (Clicks fingers)
Merci. Ah!
C'est magnifique.
Yes, yes, there is a small atmospheric change.
But we shall be quite comfortable here.
Bon.
Tell to me, do you count here
among your guests a Mademoiselle Samoushenka?
Ah.
Alas, monsieur, it is not our policy
to disclose the identity of our most celebrated guests.
Oui, d'accord. I understand, but completely.
Nevertheless, she is here?
She is here.
Oh, did you ever see La Samoushenka dance?
She would hang in the air like a...
Breath of spring?
Impeccable. Oui.
But this season, she has not graced the stage.
No, monsieur, she has been here.
But she keep to her room.
And no receive visitors.
Her physician, Dr Lutz, that gentleman...
..no lo permette... he does not allow.
It is said she has...a broken heart...
un coeur brise.
But she has brought with her her maid?
She has brought no maid. No?
Then who is that young lady?
That is Miss Alice Cunningham.
Is Monsieur polizei - police officer?
No, no, mon ami.
He is...Poirot.
Ladies, is everything quite well?
(Whispers)
Are you Mr Harold Waring?
My incognito tumbles at the first fence.
Yes.
Yes, I am. May I speak candidly?
Well, I suspect you're about to.
You have come here from England
to escape the consequences of a scandal.
Is that correct?
Yes.
Then I must entreat you not to engage
my daughter in private discourse.
My son-in-law would take a dim view of it.
Very dim.
Another glass, monsieur? Non, merci, quand meme.
(Sniffs)
(Sniffles)
Lieutenant Drouet.
Ma foi.
Are you in contact with Inspector Lementeuil?
And what news of Marrascaud?
He is not here, not yet.
Oh, monsieur!
Pardon, monsieur.
(Machinery clanking)
Hercule!
Countess! Lyubov moya!
20 years.
Bouf! Gone like smoke through keyhole.
Oui.
I recognised you instantly.
What could I do but return?
You look well, Countess.
Well? Oui.
Hercule, such insipidity.
At very least, I want to look like a goddess.
One of the better ones.
Of course I look well.
It is my life of unrelenting virtue.
My life of crime is largely over.
Bon.
S'il vous plait? Ah.
Merci.
These days, I must at least pretend to be sensible adult.
After all, dorogoi...
I am a mother.
(Chuckles)
(Speaks Russian)
(Knock at door) Oh!
(Knock, door opens)
You're up.
I am vertical...
if that is what you mean.
Have you taken your medication?
Look at my eyes, Dr Lutz.
I have taken my medication.
Shall we talk?
I don't want to.
When you don't want to, Katrina, then is the time to talk.
It's the way to make you better.
(Clears throat)
Countess. Hercule.
I should like you to meet my daughter, Alice Cunningham.
And her ugly dog. (Dog growls)
Mademoiselle.
Cunningham?
Ships in the night, forget him. I have.
Alice is criminologist.
Well, with a mother like me, she would have to turn one way or the other.
She studies the modi operandi of great criminals.
Dorogoi, sit, sit, sit.
Only the great criminals, mademoiselle?
What about the little ones?
My thesis examines the detectives
who are successful in exposing these miscreants.
She's studied you.
Le mot de dieu! Do I repay the study?
He looks at you and he thinks,
"She could be my daughter."
Of course, you are not his daughter.
Monsieur Poirot and I would have had to have held hands at the very least.
But he looks at you, dorogoi, and he sees the life he might have had.
Yes, I am aware that you and my mother are...acquainted.
She's told me you were incredibly kind to her.
Oh, shush. I might have said it once.
She speaks of little else.
(Chuckles)
But what is your case, monsieur, that brings you here?
I am Poirot. I have two cases.
One of them must be Marrascaud.
The newspapers are full of him.
He got away from you in London.
If you are here it is because... Marrascaud is expected too?
Maybe he's here already.
How thrilling.
Which one of us is it?
Is it me? (Growls)
I shall write down who I think it is in the margin of this book.
So when Monsieur Poirot unmasks the killer...
..we shall see if I'm right.
(Rumbling) What's that?
It is merely the snow...
moving.
Somewhere an avalanche.
(Dog whines)
(Clears throat)
Might I speak to you a moment?
I read in the newspaper that you have an illegitimate child.
Yes, I read that too.
May I ask what happened to your face?
My husband has difficulty controlling his temper.
Sometimes I displease him.
Well, sometimes I displease my loved ones.
They don't hit me in the face when I do it.
Who says I love him?
We all have...regrets, Mr Waring.
Regrets are the most forlorn and useless emotions, Mrs Clayton.
One must insure against them.
Elsie.
So...we shall amuse ourselves with a round of Botticelli.
It is a parlour game.
I give you my letter, you must establish my identity by questioning me.
So, I choose...M.
You say, "Did you paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel?"
I say, "Nein, I am not Michelangelo."
You say, "Ach..." Yes, yes, we all know the game.
Did you write the Resurrection Symphony?
(Sighs)
I know nothing of music.
Mahler. Good, good!
I fail. You have earned a direct question.
(Bell rings)
Ladies and gentlemen, meine Herren und Damen, signore and signori, messieurs-dames.
This man is such a bore!
A point of information.
I am advised that a small quantity of snow
has fallen in the tunnel of the funicular.
Workmen are attending to the obstruction
and it will soon be clear.
S'il vous plait, monsieur, how soon?
Oh, tout de suite, monsieur, very soon.
Within a couple of days for certain.
(Sighs)
So we are trapped in this preposterous place?
It is a large...
..small quantity of snow.
But not be despondent.
It will be gemutlich up here.
We have food, we have wine, we shall be er...
What is the phrase?
Demented with boredom. Cosy.
We shall be most cosy.
With a killer on the premises.
(Clicks fingers)
Now is the moment when we must be very...
..very vigilant.
(Wind howling)
(Elsie sobbing)
(Man snoring)
Just tell me.
All you have to do to make me go away...
..is just tell me you're all right.
I'm...
..all right.
(Door locks)
(Key turns in lock, door creaks open)
Drouet.
Do you have a gun?
No.
No!
Do you want one? No.
I am on edge.
This whole business...
is putting me on edge, waiting.
Sometimes, Lieutenant, that is all one can do...wait.
The telephone is down and I have no orders.
I don't like to be without orders.
Have you ever seen him?
Marrascaud?
No.
I saw him once.
He had a mask but I... I saw his eyes.
He looked directly at me.
So you'll appreciate why I am restless here without orders,
waiting for him to come.
Will you give me orders, monsieur?
Oui, Lieutenant Drouet.
Sleep.
You don't think Marrascaud will climb the mountain tonight?
Non, mon ami.
For he is already here.
MRS RICE: Shocking waste of paint.
Whole hotel is simply festooned with this appalling tat.
It appears, madame, that you are the connoisseuse, hein?
Your little brooch, for instance, it is most fine.
But I observe that you do not wear it today.
I always wear it.
Good heavens, the ruddy thing's gone.
Probably stolen.
I tell you, this place has gone to pot.
I'm beginning to think Robert gave in his cards.
Spa. Si.
Danke. Monsieur will also avail himself of our facilities?
Facilities? The sauna, the steaming room...
No.
No, no, no.
(Knocking at door)
Don't make me knock again!
(Knocking)
Stop that!
Door is unlocked.
I didn't call for room service.
That is well. For I have none to offer.
I am Poirot.
You are waiting.
What are you waiting for?
To be invited to leave or to sit down.
Merci, mademoiselle.
Would you be so kind as to tell to me something?
What became of your maid?
I have never had a maid.
Nita.
She died.
The maid you never had... she died?
Nita died.
I have never had another maid after Nita.
Who sent you?
(Door opens)
What is this?
I don't know who this is.
I don't care. He's leaving.
Merci, mademoiselle. You have been most helpful.
Don't touch my things.
Je m'excuse.
You write, mademoiselle?
I can barely dress myself.
How could I write?
Merci, mademoiselle.
Doctor.
What is the point of making rules?
WARING: Mr Clayton - does he take all his meals in his room?
Is monsieur polizei - police officer?
Signore Waring, you insult me.
No, no, no, no.
Look, I'm not a ruddy policeman.
No? Of course not.
Signore Clayton, he takes his meals, certainly.
Meals out of a bottle. Whisky, whisky, whisky, all day long.
Thank you.
Monsieur Poirot!
Let me be absolutely clear.
I cannot permit you to interfere with my patient.
Dr Lutz.
Are you an admirer of Nietzsche?
All Austrians are not Nazis, Monsieur Poirot.
You think I try to trap you? Naturally, it is your metier.
Who is employing you and what do you want from my patient?
In this case, I am engaged by Monsieur Ted Williams.
And what I require from Mademoiselle Samoushenka is the return of her maid, Nita.
I have no idea what you're talking about.
Nita, the servant maid impeccable.
Monsieur Ted Williams the lover, most ardent and full of chivalry.
You speak to me in archetypes.
All this is very Jung.
Nobody of intelligence credits Jung.
What is wrong with the lady in Room 16?
Ha, you French!
You make me scream with laughter.
I am glad...but also Belgian.
You cannot expect me to compromise
my client confidentiality! Are you mad?
No, Doctor, but neither is Katrina Samoushenka.
(Lutz plays Liszt on piano)
(Howls)
Oh, for God's sake!
That's it, darling, you sing along.
Is it not the most hideous deformity of a dog you ever beheld?
It is as if it had two heads. Snap.
Another head, he could be Cerberus.
Don't you start!
As it is, his name's Binky.
Compliments of the house, monsieur.
Non, merci.
The manager loves you because you are the only person here who does not complain.
Snap.
Naturally, he is not a doctor.
His name's not Krier, either.
It's Rosato. He used to run a nightclub in Brindisi.
I saw him there, but he doesn't remember me.
I was...beneath his notice at the time.
Ah, yes, dorogoi.
Since we last met, my life has not always been so agreeable. Snap.
Ah, yes.
These are for you. For me?
They're beautiful.
I have from time to time lost my money and my dignity, Hercule.
I never lost my taste.
But...
No, I did not steal them.
My father wore them when we fled Byteburg.
Merci beaucoup.
The Labours of Hercules.
That is how you unconsciously conceive your career.
You are the modern incarnation of Hercules.
How resourceful of me.
Hm, Dr Lutz should name a condition after you.
The Hercules Complex - the compulsion
to conquer all obstacles, however forbidding.
It is why you are driven to chase Marrascaud.
You simply have to.
The man is on the rampage, all over Europe. He is the master criminal.
Who else could possibly defeat him?
"Hercule". There is no one else.
Snap.
CLAYTON: You give me that bottle! Give it to me now! By God, I'm going to...
ELSIE: Stop it, you're scaring me!
CLAYTON: You do that again, you know what's coming!
ELSIE: Don't hit me again!
Clayton!
You cowardly swine, step outside!
(Arguing continues in room)
ELSIE: Please don't... Please don't hurt me! Elsie.
Argh!
(Yells)
God! Go!
My darling, go!
Go!
God!
(Knock at door)
Mrs Rice.
What has happened? Does Clayton's injury need attention?
Tell me what to do. I can do it.
My daughter's husband is dead.
She has killed him, you see.
I should go... No, Mr Waring, please stay here.
We shall not have you implicated.
But...
(Door opens)
(Sobs)
Please.
Now, do sit down.
(Sobs)
There, there. There, there.
Tell me what happened, please.
I carried the body to the bathroom.
I stood on the closed lid of the lavatory.
I fed the body through the little window.
It went down the mountain.
Right.
So Clayton's down the mountain.
I think I was observed.
The staff quarters look out on us. I saw a face.
(Sighs) Right. (Sobs)
Let me... Let me think a minute.
This is not England.
The solution to this is probably a bribe.
One bribe to the manager.
Enough for him to silence whichever member of staff
observed you, and, if necessary, the police.
We have no money for a bribe.
(Sobs)
Leave it to me.
(Exhales)
Mickey Mouse.
Excusez-moi?
M, in Botticelli.
I was Mickey Mouse.
I am now ready for another game.
For you, I am D.
Monsieur, I have no appetite... I'll give you a clue - two clues.
I am alive and I am not fictitional.
Vraiment, monsieur, I insist...
..that you excuse me from this game.
Ah...buongiorno, Signore Waring. Good morning.
Francesco? Si.
Can I speak frankly?
I have...
..a problem.
Is it a big problem, Signore Waring?
Pretty big.
How big...
..is pretty big, signore?
Nothing, I'm sure...
..we cannot help you with.
You may be assured of my most discreet professional services.
That would be nice.
Binks, tell the truth.
If you were the greatest criminal brain in the known universe...
..and you had just torn the internal organs out of a beautiful young girl...
where would you go to catch your breath?
You wouldn't really come to a dump like this, would you?
(Knock at door, dog whines)
Come in. (Door opens)
(Alice screams)
(Screams continue)
Signore Waring, whatever this is, I am not sure our arrangement covers it.
My daughter! Where is Alice?
Mother! Oh, bozhe moy!
My child!
I'm not hurt, I'm not hurt!
If you please, mademoiselle. Tell to me what you can.
Yes, erm...it was a man alone. (Snarls)
He had a mask.
Did he touch you? Was it Marrascaud? (Curses in Russian)
If you please, Countess.
Did he speak?
Can you be sure it was a man?
It was pretty clear he was a man!
And what he wanted.
But he didn't get it.
(Dog growls)
He had good shoes.
Hand-made.
So you see... Oui.
What?
Countess, the man who attacked your daughter,
he is not a member of staff. Non.
He is a guest. (Knock at door)
Come.
Countess...Monsieur.
I came to see if I could be of assistance to Miss Cunningham.
How kind, Dr Lutz. What manner of assistance?
The procedures of psychological recovery are my speciality.
(Dog barks) Shush, Binky.
We've established you're a completely useless guard dog.
Erm...thank you, Dr Lutz, I shall bear you in mind.
(Clicks heels)
Wrong shoes. Because he changed them.
It was him. It was not him, Mother.
God, you'd make such a useless detective!
Monsieur Poirot, I have decided to help you.
I'll meet you in the lounge in five minutes. Non...
Please, I need this for me.
Miss Cunningham. I do hope...
Yes, well, it was most unpleasant but now I'm fine.
Monsieur Poirot here has some questions to ask you.
Indeed.
Monsieur Waring, if you please to tell Poirot
where you were when Mademoiselle Cunningham was menaced.
Me?
I was in my room.
So why do you blush to say this? Was there another person with you?
I say! Don't be so offensive.
Don't mind me. My bedroom's full of people
who aren't supposed to be there.
En effet, you can help Poirot, monsieur.
If you please to advise Monsieur Philip Clayton
now it is the time for him to emerge from his room to account for himself.
No. No, monsieur?
Clayton has left the hotel.
Mais ca, c'est incroyable!
Monsieur Philip Clayton, he does not grow the wings.
(Waring chuckles)
Well, he might.
You are very tired, monsieur. Tired is the least of what I am, Poirot.
I'm a killer.
I killed Philip bloody Clayton and stuffed his body out the window.
That is most interesting.
How did you kill him, monsieur?
With a dirty great paperweight.
Back of the head.
Bang.
And, of course, you killed Monsieur Philip Clayton because he beats his wife?
The wife with whom you are in love...
and was in your bedroom when Mademoiselle Cunningham she was being attacked.
Yes.
And her mother, she was with us too.
Oh, naturellement. Madame Rice was almost constantly with you.
Oh, except, of course, when you were engaged in the murder of Monsieur Philip Clayton.
She arrived a short while afterwards looking a little er...
echevelee?
Ah, perhaps we should continue this inside, mon cher ami.
It cannot be possible. Neither of them was in Copenhagen.
If anything goes wrong - anything at all...
..I shall blame you.
If you please, monsieur.
Oui bien, monsieur. Listen to Poirot.
You recall that night in London?
When I observed the behaviour of Sir Anthony Morgan towards his wife?
Et bien, it gave to Poirot the measure of this man.
And I believe that it was he who fathered the child
with a prostitute, monsieur, and not you.
Non.
You took the blame in order to preserve the integrity of your Ministry,
because you are a man most honourable.
And now you take the blame for the murder of Philip Clayton.
But Poirot he knows that this cannot be true.
Because there is no Philip Clayton - there never was such a man.
You know, Poirot, he racked his brains.
And he remembered the case in Copenhagen
where there was a good man at a very low ebb in his life.
Like you he was relieved of all his money by two sisters.
Madame Rice and Madame Clayton, mon vieux, are not mother and daughter.
But I saw Elsie smash the man over... Non!
The man who was struck was not a man at all.
But her eldest sibling in disguise.
And then, of course, they send you away while they, huh, dispose of the body.
But malheureusement, they were observed and then they came to you and...
(Sighs)..you offer to make the bribe.
But I gave them nothing. I gave it all to that Francesco chap.
Francesco. Have you ever met a man more corrupt?
He is most surely their accomplice.
How do you know Mrs Rice was impersonating Clayton?
Oh, madem...
Mademoiselle, your coat it is open. Please to do it up, huh?
Vous voyez, monsieur.
The ladies, they draw the right over the left
and the gentlemen they draw the left over the right.
And when I observed this, huh, Philip Clayton...
in the corridor do up his dressing gown...
Right over left. C'est ca.
(Exhales heavily)
Alors, monsieur, I believe that you have suffered enough.
I leave you to recover your position, mon brave.
Yes.
Those women should hang.
Croyez-vous, mademoiselle? You are very harsh.
What are you thinking?
No, I am thinking that Cerberus has much to tell us about Marrascaud.
If you ask us to guess who you are I shall scream.
Monsieur Poirot.
My card.
I am...an insurance investigator. (Clears throat)
I offer you my services.
It was him.
Monsieur, can you tell me where you were
when Mademoiselle Cunningham she was attacked?
Certainly.
My complete itinerary for the day.
All verifiable by witnesses.
Excluding the criminals Waring, Francesco
and the women calling themselves Rice and Clayton, of course.
Merci. I shall await your call, monsieur.
Definitely him.
(Gasps)
Don't look.
There, quickly!
Oh...so she is here.
Katrina. This is not appropriate.
Who pays for your dinner, Doctor Lutz?
That is not a legitimate basis for argument.
Well, I disagree. Dine with me if you wish.
Otherwise, leave me alone.
We talk about this later.
Mademoiselle? A bottle of wine and erm...food
of some description.
Oui. D'accord.
Mademoiselle, there is one thing that you must know.
It is a thing that was told to Poirot,
but he did not believe it of himself, but it is true.
And it is true of you.
You are not ill, mademoiselle, non.
You are not ill.
The Countess Rossakoff is a criminal, monsieur.
And you have done nothing to promote her arrest.
You could do the same for us.
Excuse me.
Otherwise you drive us to extremes.
Do not press me, ladies. Poirot, he will not be pressed.
(Squeaking)
Nom d'un chien!
Aargh!
Stay where you are.
Aaargh!
Schwartz?
Drouet...with a D.
Of course you are. I was watching your door.
My God... (Groans)
That's quite a drop. Sans blague. He will be injured.
He already is. I think my shot went through his stomach.
Will you excuse me? Oui.
(Wind whistles)
Oui bien, Poirot.
The little grey cells...at last they begin to sing.
(Groans)
He cannot escape. You want me to shoot him?
No, Lieutenant Drouet.
Poirot, he does not wish that.
Viens.
(Groans)
(Strains)
Stop!
Gustave...you are wounded.
And if you remain out here you will most surely die.
No! I said no!
That is enough! Come back in!
We have so much to discuss, you and I.
Mon ami.
What is your name?
(Panting) Marrascaud.
No, Gustave. No.
No! Gustave!
He was not Marrascaud.
Why should a man go to his death claiming to be someone else?
That is the mystery that is so terrible.
Well. If you are in the mood for horrors...
there is something else you should see.
Careful. Merci.
There. Oh, non, non, non.
At least the cold prevents him from stinking. Oh...
Oh, dear. Do you know who it is?
Oui. It is the servant Robert.
I found him this afternoon. Either suicide, or somebody...
Non. This is not suicide, mon ami. Look at the hands.
No, these hands they do not speak of a waiter who decided to hang himself.
This man was fighting for his life. And was overpowered.
So this is the man Gustave replaced? Oui.
Huh.
This Gustave, he must have known about the undercover operation to take Marrascaud.
And he just pretended to be me.
Though how he knew my name... I have nothing to identify me. What?
Poirot, you are such a clumsy fool.
You handed to him the name on a plate.
Another glass, monsieur? Non, merci, quand meme.
Lieutenant Drouet?
It makes no difference now.
So...what do we do?
Gustave wanted us to believe that it was Marrascaud falling to his death. Oui?
Then that, for the moment, is what we shall believe.
Hercule! What happened? Are you dead?
We heard another shot.
Tell us.
Francesco. Please tell the staff to keep to their quarters.
Their services will not be required.
Countess, this gentleman is Lieutenant Drouet of the ICPC.
Are you sure? He is so many people.
Ah. And as for Marrascaud...he is dead.
Good heavens.
The man calling himself Gustave. It was him.
I knew it. Those terrible shoes.
The waiter with the drip at the end of his nose?
Oui.
I must confess to being a little disappointed.
That's not the name I wrote in my book.
Monsieur Waring?
Mrs Rice and Mrs Clayton. They've left the hotel.
What? Please do come and look.
Excusez-moi.
(Wind whistles)
What? Tell me. Is it likely they'll survive?
Two women, unfit, without protective clothing, without skis. In the freezing dark.
For ladies whose livelihood depends on risks that are calculated,
they have overreached themselves, I fear.
I must pursue them. Monsieur Waring. Listen to Poirot, huh?
The opportunity to make yourself feel better by doing something senselessly heroic
may yet present itself, but...
..this is not it. Compris?
Lieutenant Drouet, what special apparatus have you brought with you?
A gun. A shortwave wireless set... Excellent.
Ca c'est la bonne formule.
No, but up here it doesn't work. It has never worked.
Poirot, he is the master of technology.
Please to bring this apparatus to the salon.
And, Monsieur Waring, please to invite also the other guests.
Poirot shall make the wireless to live again.
(Static whines)
Lieutenant, will you please to make everyone stand over there. It's impossible for...
Ladies and gentlemen, step back, please.
Monsieur. Monsieur.
I trust the polizei will keep a sense of proportion about my involvement in er...
Ah.
Hello? Yes, I can hear you.
C'est Poirot ici.
Oui, Drouet is here and he is well.
Lementeuil, tell to me what you can before the signal it fails.
Oui. D'accord. No, I understand.
Enfin, bref... Poirot, he has requirements...
Hello?
Lementeuil?
It is dead. Well? What is understood?
The tunnel...it has been cleared.
And at dawn - in precisely one hour from now - the funicular, it will operate again.
And what are your "requirements", monsieur?
Time, mademoiselle. Time is all that is required by Poirot.
May I ask something? Why do you insist on referring to yourself in the third person?
It is intensely irritating.
Because, Doctor Lutz, it helps Poirot
achieve a healthy distance from his genius.
Mademoiselle Cunningham, your disappointment it can be set aside.
The man calling himself Gustave, he was not Marrascaud.
You don't say.
Non. He was the accomplice most loyal,
who went to his death willingly... to conceal the identity of his master.
Oh, I feel sick.
So who is this Marrascaud?
Does he exist? Or is he a collective neurosis?
Mademoiselle...
..Marrascaud he exists.
He is here now.
A little patience, mes amis.
Then Poirot...he will explain.
Monsieur, there are things I wish you to do.
But first, do you have here the passports for each of the guests?
In the safe, monsieur. Bon. Place them in the room of Poirot.
Et maintenant, ecoutez bien. Oui.
While Mademoiselle Samoushenka is here occupied
go to her room and take whatever it is you find from underneath her pillow.
Also the writing case which is on the little table beside her bed.
Place these items in the dining room, into a large laundry basket for Poirot.
Also, that terrible picture that is in my room. And some terebenthine.
Oui. And, monsieur, in the matter of people being arrested...
And a rag.
A rag.
Assemble also the guests in the dining room in...
20 minutes. I have an appointment.
(Wind whistles)
(Door opens)
(Growls)
Bon.
Merci, monsieur. Merci.
Dorogoi, what are you doing?
Have you brought us here to instruct us how to clean painting?
That amount of spirit, monsieur, you might wipe off an Alp.
Hm.
Told you. One could consider it an improvement.
Wait a minute. What's that?
It is a man.
Well, I'm a ruddy Chinaman.
Spoken like a true officer in His Majesty's Foreign Office.
It's the Le Mesuriers' van Druys.
Precisement. Vanquishing the Hydra.
One of a series of which paintings, monsieur?
The Labours of Hercules. This is so.
And the rest of the Labours? They are all here.
All around this building they sit, waiting.
Hidden, but in the plain sight.
Waiting for what?
For the fence of Marrascaud to find a purchaser for the collection.
Francesco, from where did you purchase these pictures?
A man...down the mountain. I get them very cheap.
Indeed, because for Marrascaud it is a kind of rental.
Ah, but there are other treasures here, in bond.
(Gasps) That is mine.
Is it, mademoiselle?
Je suis desole. I return it to you at once.
Nevertheless, in the spirit of candour,
which is mandatory in these circumstances,
I must insist that you show to Poirot its contents.
Don't be ridiculous.
The Lieutenant Drouet is a policeman.
Would you prefer him to show us the contents of your writing case?
Bloody hellfire. Monsieur.
Well, I'm sorry, but that necklace was around that poor girl's throat that night. Lucinda.
And the earrings that went with. God, that's not still blood on them, is it?
Merci, monsieur.
Mademoiselle, are you surprised to find these items in your writing case?
No. Non.
Will you please explain to us all how come they came to arrive there?
No. No. I thought not.
It is of little consequence for Poirot knows the story of these stones.
I must protest. But, of course, monsieur,
that is your raison d'etre.
Everything that Mademoiselle Samoushenka does you must interrogate or disparage.
Because otherwise you...have no function.
Oui.
Ah, another of your personal possessions
that has found its way into the basket of Poirot.
(Katrina gasps)
And you will notice the agitation of Dr Lutz.
He thought he had made you to throw away this object.
But, non. You hid it under your pillow.
And this item is the disguise you once wore in London to become Nita.
And as Nita the maid, you were able to fall in love with the hard-working man,
the driver Monsieur Ted Williams.
Whom the proud and haughty Katrina Samoushenka
could not permit herself to love.
This Nita, who has to be discarded when her mistress must leave London.
And so Nita the maid has to die.
And Monsieur Ted Williams, must bear the pain every day of his life.
Of a heart that is broken.
And Dr Lutz...
the opportunist who has been retained to nurse you through your unhappiness.
To heal you with the talking cure, with pills.
With the constant reinforcement that you are mentally unstable,
that you cannot be trusted to exist alone.
Because this keeps him in employment.
But it is a cover.
But that is the way you behave. How can one trust either of you?
I told you he was forceful.
And you, Countess. Never quite able to wean yourself from the life of crime, hm?
Pourrais-je, madame?
Oh, vous voyez, mademoiselle.
Your mother she is wearing the brooch belonging to Madame Rice.
It was ugly on her and it is pretty on me.
She won't be needing it to go down a mountain.
She steals so rarely these days.
Peut-etre.
But maybe she enjoys the pleasure of fencing jewellery that has been taken by another?
For God's sake. You know that is not true. You know that...
My turn.
Mademoiselle Cunningham. The student of criminology.
Your fascination with - oh - the method.
Your eagerness always to know what it is that Poirot he is thinking.
How deliciously pure it would be, mademoiselle,
to conceal yourself under the wing of the very detective who searches for you.
Yes. May I say I think that's very interesting but a little woolly...
and...not quite out of the top drawer, sleuth-wise.
Monsieur Waring. You are no stranger to deceit.
That's a little harsh. Only a few hours ago you were telling me what an honourable man I was.
Because it is your honour that leads you to deceit.
Will you please fetch for me the ladies Madame Clayton and Madame Rice.
They're halfway down the mountain. No. They are not.
I think you'll find them hiding in your bedroom.
Now, look here... Just please to fetch them, monsieur.
Bon. Et maintenant, Monsieur le patron.
(Door closes)
I have done everything you asked, monsieur. Soyons gentils.
You ask Poirot to be gentle with you? Oui.
You, who when the servant Robert went missing,
made not the slightest attempt to find him?
And when Gustave appeared later, do you put the two and two together?
Of yes, of course you did, monsieur, but you pretended not to hear the answer.
And then he gives you cash.
And tells to you that he wishes to work for you as a waiter.
And why not? Guests have asked for stranger things.
And, after all, cash...it is...
..cash.
Ah! Ladies.
If he were wearing a hat, Poirot, he would sweep it off to you.
Your venality, it knows no bounds.
You take and you take and you take!
We returned the money.
From the goodness of humanity, you take!
You ruin a man. Then make him feel guilty for being ruined.
You make him pretend you have escaped.
But you have not escaped Poirot, no.
No, mesdames, justice it will surely
be meted out to you, for you are predatory and malign.
(Sighs)
Alors, who else remains?
Seulement the Lieutenant Drouet, and Poirot.
Mais non. There is you, monsieur.
Cerberus. Why did you not bark when your mistress she was attacked, huh?
Is it because her assailant was a man that you knew?
Or is it possible she was not attacked at all?
And that this attack...was a device most cynical to throw Poirot off the scent?
Would you like me to describe the intimate parts of my tormentor, monsieur?
They were on display.
Non. Non, non, non.
That is not necessary for Poirot.
Oh, you are clever.
But you are even more clever with the men.
Gustave, for instance, your...creature.
You give to him just enough attention to make him fall utterly in love with you.
I saw his eyes. He looked directly at me.
So passionately in love, that whenever he thinks of you, his hands, they tremble.
Trapped and wounded, what else could he offer you but his life?
Dying with a lie upon his lips in the belief
that it would protect you. You, mademoiselle.
Who are entirely without compassion, entirely without mercy.
You who said that the ladies should hang.
And you yourself, mademoiselle, who ordered Robert to be hanged.
Because it was...convenient.
I'm going to have to write this down, this is fascinating.
I do not think you will need whatever is in your handbag to listen to Poirot.
Do you know what it was that first alerted my attention, mademoiselle? Hm?
The biting of your thumb.
She's studied you.
And Poirot, he remembered where he had seen this before.
And he realised that you must have seen it too.
Oh, yes, you saw it, mademoiselle.
And you stored it up for the future use,
to manipulate the guilt and the shame of Poirot.
And what else had you observed, mademoiselle?
Don't open it until you hear the response.
All the information that you could possibly require.
And Poirot...he felt so vigilant that night.
Excuse me. Ah, pardon.
Sorry.
Poirot, he will see you now.
But, in fact, he was a man who was so blind.
Alors, mesdames and messieurs, let us imagine a little scene.
The scene where Mademoiselle Cunningham
goes to Mademoiselle Samoushenka in tears and says:
(Exhales heavily)
"Oh, mademoiselle, the man I love is so very poor.
We have no money.
And...the cruel and snobbish Countess, my mother,
she forbids us to marry.
She has taken all my jewels, except these.
Please to hide them for me, mademoiselle,
for the sake of my love that is secret and forbidden.
Everything depends...on you."
I condense for the dramatic purposes. But the essence of it, it is correct, oui?
Yes.
And how did you know this story would succeed?
Because it was told to you
by your regular fence and accomplice, Dr Heinrich Lutz.
Whose passport I have here...
And yours, mademoiselle.
And if Poirot compares the two, what does he discover?
He discovers that in the past six months,
you have both visited exactly the same countries,
on exactly the same dates.
Oh, mademoiselle.
I am concerned that there is in your handbag a gun.
Lieutenant, would you please see if it also contains a book?
No gun. One book.
Bon.
And would you please to read out loud
the name that is there written...
..in the margin of page...81?
Lutz. Lutz.
The contingency plan, mein Herr. To betray you.
Although you had already been betrayed to Poirot
by the greeting so familiar of the little dog.
(Whines and barks)
Shush, Binky.
But you know for all this, Poirot was still not certain.
Until his simple ruse.
Alors, mesdames and messieurs, Poirot pretended to repair the wireless.
He pretended to speak to the police.
He announced that the funicular it would soon be open.
And you, mademoiselle... you decided it was time to leave.
Is that...out of the top drawer...
..Marrascaud?
(Gasp of shock) No.
Well, this is interesting.
Bozhe moy. Shut up.
You didn't seriously think I'd come to your little talk with a weapon in my own bag, did you?
Huh! No, I put it in hers.
I beg you.
This is not the behaviour of a civilised woman.
What a bloody useless mother you are.
S'il vous plait. This is not the way.
It cannot end this way. Mistake, Poirot.
Because for the sheer childish pleasure...of proving you wrong.
(Gun clicks) No!
(Cries of shock)
Put down the gun.
It is not a gun! It's an objective correlative!
Put down the objective correlative.
Countess?
I am unhurt. (Lutz cries out)
You did not think that she would shoot her own mother?
Does that count as a senselessly heroic act, monsieur?
I hope it does, because I really don't want to have to do that ever again.
I believe that it does, monsieur.
(Handcuffs click and lock)
DROUET: Take them away.
Is there anybody at the Hotel Olympos who's not a criminal?
(Growls)
Do you feel redeemed, monsieur? Hm?
Does this atone for the death of Lucinda?
Because that was a bit of a mess, wasn't it?
I heard you say the words, Poirot, promising to protect her.
You poor man's Hercules -
so vain, so...ineffably smug.
And...you failed.
Don't turn your back on me. I shall find you.
I shall not hide.
I can't believe you are so cruel.
I am not the Law, Countess.
Hercule. Spare my daughter. I...
Spare her as years ago you spared me.
Please. Lyubov moya.
No, Countess.
Poirot, he is not your love.
He is...Poirot.
Then I shall accompany my daughter.
I bid you da svidaniya, Hercule.
A love like ours could have burnt down a city.
Such a waste.
(Inhales sharply)
(Wind whistles)