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Agatha Christie's Poirot (1989–2013): Season 4, Episode 2 - Death in the Clouds - full transcript

While Poirot sleeps on an airplane flight from Paris to London, a notorious French moneylender is murdered with a poisoned dart.


- Oh, allow me, mademoiselle.

Voil.

- Thank you.

- It is like an enormous
birthday cake, is it not?

So strange and so out of place
in this beautiful neighborhood.

Near the end of the last century
when it was being built,

so many of the great artists,
they lived here.

Oh, yes.

Renoir, Manet, van Gogh,
so many.

It amuses me
to imagine their dismay

as they saw it
being constructed.

- Well, actually,
I think it's rather beautiful.

- You know, when they
lived here, mademoiselle,

Montmartre was just a village
in the countryside.

Strange church for a village,
n'est-ce pas?

However, for myself,
I am very happy

that it is no longer
the countryside.

I greatly prefer under my feet
the paving stones.

Excuse me.

- On demande Monsieur Johnson.

Paging Mr. Johnson.

On demande Monsieur Johnson.

Paging Mr. Johnson.

- I'd much rather spend
the afternoon shopping.

There are so many gorgeous shops
in Paris.

It's quite absurd.

- We've already bought
the tickets, darling.

- It is why we came, Cecily.

- Yes, Venetia, thank you.

I do realize.

But I didn't realize

we'd spend the whole week
watching tennis.

For goodness' sake.

Well, really!

I do think Frenchmen
are so rude.

Don't you, Venetia?

Where's Madeleine?

Madeleine!

Fetch my cigarettes, will you?

- Yes, Lady Horbury.

- Quarante, trente.

Jeu, Monsieur Perry.

Monsieur Perry mne
par quatre jeux trois

dans le premier set.

- Excuse me.

I'm sorry.

- He was jolly good,
even you must admit, Cecily.

- Who was?

- Fred Perry, darling,

the English one.

- I wish I'd seen Perry
at Wimbledon last year.

They say he was marvelous.

- Well, let's hope he wins again
in the final.

- Yes, that would be nice,
wouldn't it?

- Hello.
- Hello.

- I felt I ought to apologize...

in case my clapping
deafened you.

Oh, no, don't worry.

- Did you enjoy the game?

- Oh, yes.

It's a wonderful tournament,
isn't it?

- I'm Norman Gale.

- Jane Grey.

- Wasn't she a queen
or something?

- Briefly.
No relation, I'm afraid.

I'm just an air stewardess.

- Well, I hope you're not flying
back before the final.

- Oh, no, no, definitely not.

I wouldn't miss it for anything.

- Good.

- Garon!

Garon!

Oh, for heaven's sake!

- Dix rouge.

- Merci.

- Faites vos jeux,
mesdames et messieurs.

Faites vos jeux.

Faites vos jeux,
mesdames et messieurs.

Faites vos jeux.

Come on, come on,
come on, come on.

- Quinze noir.

Faites vos jeux,
mesdames et messieurs.

Faites vos jeux.

- That was a lovely dinner.
Thank you, Stephen.

- Glad you enjoyed it.

- You mustn't worry about Cecily
not turning up.

Really.

There's probably
a perfectly good reason.

She's probably
back at the hotel now.

- She's been worse than ever
this week.

It was marvelous that you
could come with us, Venetia.

- Oh, well.

I'm very good at being
a friend of the family.

It's my role in life, I think.

- Oh.

- Bonsoir, madame.
Bonsoir, monsieur.

- Good evening.

- Oh, madame.

- Madame Giselle,
s'il vous plat.

- Le premier tage.

I will not tolerate it!

Do you understand?

I will not tolerate it!

Hello, darling.

Can't you sleep?

- It's 3:00.

- Is it?

- Did you see her?

- Who?

- That woman.

- I might have paid her
just a little visit, Stephen.

On the other hand,
I might not.

- I suppose you went
to the casino.

- I might have spent
just a few francs, yes, Stephen,

I must confess.

- I'm not helping anymore,
Cecily.

I'm simply not.

You'll just have to tell her!

- Oh, don't get so excited,
darling.

You and Venetia love
riding around on horses,

and I love smoking
and drinking

and losing money
at the roulette table.

So long as we all leave
each other to our own devices,

I don't see what the problem is.

- I'm going back to London
in the morning.

- And miss the final?

What will Venetia think?

- Ah, mademoiselle.

I did not take you for
an admirer of the avant-garde.

- Hello, again.
- Hello.

You are a little baffled
by what you see?

- Yes, I'm afraid I am,
actually.

- Well, it's hardly surprising,
mademoiselle.

The surrealists, you see,
they free themselves

from the demands of logic.

They do not paint
what we see before us,

the real world as we call it.

No, no, no.

No, they struggle to express
the unconscious,

the dream world.

So one cannot approach their
work in way that has logic.

You have to experience it.

You have to open your mind
to it.

That is all.

Come.
I will show you more.

So, Mademoiselle Grey,

how does the world look

now that the surrealists
have opened your mind to it?

- It's all looking
a little strange now actually.

But I'm sure
it's only temporary.

It's been fascinating
meeting you, Mr. Poirot.

- Ah, no, no, no, no.
You are too kind.

- No, it has.

But now there's a little bit
of Paris I'd like to show you,

somewhere I'm almost sure
you've never been.

- Oh, I have seen much of Paris,
Mademoiselle Grey.

Do not be so sure.

You are very clever,
Mademoiselle Grey,

to obtain for me a seat
at such short notice.

- That's your seat there.

- Well, thank you.
Thank you very much indeed.

You are too kind.

- I'll see you later.

- Indeed.
Au revoir.

- Au revoir.

- Excuse me.
Pardon.

Pardon.

- I really don't know why
you're staying, Cecily.

Why didn't you go back
with Stephen?

- Perhaps because even this
is preferable

to being stuck in the country

with all that mud
and horse manure.

- Oh, you must have known
what he was like

before you married him.

- One never knows
what one's husband is like

before one marries him.

That's one of the problems
with marriage.

- Are you sure you're
not staying for other reasons?

- What do you mean?

- What about that actor friend
of yours?

Isn't he keen on tennis?

- Trente par tout.

Trente, quarante.

- It is interesting, is it not,

how the British regard tennis
as their own invention

and any tennis trophy
as rightfully theirs?

When the truth is,
it was a French game originally.

Jeu de pomme.

11th century, I think.

- It was a jolly good game,
wasn't it?

And Perry absolutely thrashed
von Cramm.

Are either of you
going to Wimbledon?

- For myself, I think not.

- Depends if I can get
the time off.

- Me too.

- Some more.
Garon!

Garon!

- You've had enough, Cecily.

- I have nothing for you,
madame, nothing.

Do you hear?

The cupboard is bare.

No more money,
comprenez?

- Pardon, madame.

- Good morning, sir.
Welcome aboard.

- I hear Miss Grey
will be traveling with us,

ready to cater
for our every need.

- How delightful,
a little party.

Ah, and there are two more
to join us,

two more aficionados
of the game of tennis.

- Oh, yes.

Yes, I saw them yesterday.
What a coincidence.

- No, no, no, no, Monsieur Gale,
it is not a coincidence.

You will go to Paris
for the tennis.

The tennis finishes.
You go home.

What could be more logical?

- Bonjour, monsieur.

Le Bourget, s'il vous plat.

- Au revoir, Elise.

A bien tt.

- Au revoir, madame.

- Good morning, sir.
- Good morning.

- It'll be in here, sir,
if you need it.

- Thank you.

- Morning.
- Good morning.

You're at the end, Mr. Gale,
on the right.

- Call me Norman, if you like.

- I shall have a rug,
if I may.

Thank you.

- Uh, your hat, sir.

- Thank you very much.

Thank you.

- This way, ladies.

Lady Horbury.

Miss Kerr.

- Is everything all right,
Mr. Dupont?

- Yes.

- Would you like me to take
your case for you?

- No, no, it contains
valuable archaeological pieces.

Equatorial African pipes,
you see?

For a lecture I'm giving to the
British Archaeological Society.

- Really?
How interesting.

If you'll excuse me.

This way, madame.

- Excuse me for asking, sir,

but I couldn't help wondering.

Would you, by any chance,
be Mr. Daniel Clancy,

the detective writer?

- Yes.
Yes, indeed.

- I'd just like to say, sir,

I'm a great admirer
of your Wilbraham Rice stories.

He's so brilliant,

a real genius,

the way he can always work out
who did it.

- Yes.

Yes, I don't know how he does it
myself sometimes.

- Ow!
My fingernail.

Steward!

- What can I do for you, madame?

- Get me my maid.

She's in the other compartment.

Tell her to bring
my dressing case.

- Yes, madame.

- Thank you, Madeleine.
That'll be all.

- Are you all right, sir?

- No, I am not all right.
Thank you.

How can I be all right?

- Would you like something
to drink, sir?

- No.
Thank you.

Mon estomac.

- Ah.

- Would you like some food,
Norman?

- Yes, please.

- If you wouldn't mind, Cecily.

No.
My throat.

- Of course not, dear.

- Anything for you, sir?
- Uh, no, thank you.

- More coffee, sir?

Coffee, miss?

Lady Horbury?

More coffee, sir?

- Hmm?
Uh, no, thank you.

- No, thank you.

- Madame?

More coffee, madame?

Madame?

Oh, my God.

Is there a doctor?

- What is it?

- Is anyone a doctor?

- I'm a dentist
if I can be of any help.

- What is it?
What has happened?

- I'm afraid she's dead.

- What--what is it, a fit?

- No.

No, I think not.

Regardez.

- It's a wasp sting.

I killed a wasp with my cup.

- Yes, I saw it too.

- People do die of wasp stings,
but...

- You must go back
to your seats,

please, gentlemen.

We're about to land.

- Qu'est-ce que c'est a?

- Another wasp?

- Yes, it is very like a wasp.

But it is not a wasp.

- Goodness, it's a dart.

A native dart.

South American, I think.

- You have seen one of these
before, monsieur?

- Yes.
Yes, indeed.

Better be careful.

- Yes, you are right.

We must be very careful,

because unless I am
very much mistaken, mes amis,

the end is coated with poison.

- Sir?
- No, thank you.

- No, thank you.

- Sir?
- No, thank you.

I'm extremely sorry,
ladies and gentlemen.

The police won't keep you
very long.

They'll let you go

as soon as they've gone through
your hand luggage.

- Excuse me, Mr. Poirot.
- Yes.

- Would you mind
stepping outside?

- Not at all.

- I knew there was something
suspicious about him.

Didn't I say?

- Thank you.

- Well, well, seems you can't
even fly on an airplane now

without somebody
getting murdered.

I've been onto the Sret
in Paris.

I spoke to a chap
called Fournier.

Inspector Fournier?

- No.

- I asked him to find out
about the murdered woman,

but he knew
all about her already.

Her name's Giselle,
Marie Giselle,

well-known moneylender,

specialized in lending
to society people,

always kept an ear open
for their latest scandals,

and then used them
to blackmail them

when they got behind
with their payments.

Anyway, what can you tell me?

I gather you were sitting
just a few yards

from the scene of the crime.

- Well, unfortunately,
Chief Inspector Japp,

at the time of the murder,
I was asleep.

- Asleep?
Really?

Oh, well, well.

Still, I dare say
you have a theory or two

about who committed it.

- How could I possibly have
a theory, Chief Inspector,

when I still do not
fully comprehend what happened?

- A bit odd, though,
don't you think?

Death by poison dart
on a British airplane?

Bizarre isn't the word.

Jean Dupont.

Large book.

In French.

Cigarette holder.

Ivory, I should say.

Small notebook.

Full of scribbled notes.

Ornamental hollow tubes.

- African pipes
I think you will find.

I was not asleep all
of the time, Chief Inspector.

I heard Monsieur Dupont tell it
to the air stewardess,

Mademoiselle Jane Grey.

Monsieur Dupont,
he is an archaeologist.

- Could be what we're after.

- What exactly are you after,
Chief Inspector?

- Well, the question
I'm asking myself, Poirot,

is how did the dart
get into the body?

- Ah, you refer, I assume,

to the method used
by the South American Indians,

who shoot the native thorns,

such as was discovered
by the body,

through the wooden tube,
n'est-ce pas?

- Well, yes.

How do you know
about South American Indians?

- Because I have talked
to Monsieur Daniel Clancy.

The well-known writer
of the detective stories?

And creator of the celebrated
gentleman detective,

Monsieur Wilbraham Rice?

No?

Voil.

Well, Monsieur Clancy

was one of the passengers
on the airplane.

He has researched
into the subject

for one of his books.

- Oh, has he?

- Oui.
Well, so he tells me.

If you please, Chief Inspector,
when you are finished,

could you let me have a copy
of the list

of the personal effects
of each passenger?

It would be
of great interest to me.

- And why would that
interest you?

What are you looking for?

- I do not know.

All I know is that
I pursue the object

that will hold the answer
to a question that troubles me.

But such are the dilemmas
with which we daily struggle.

Are they not?

- Heh.

- Excuse me.

Very helpful.

Norman Gale.

Strand Magazine.

England's Glory box of matches.

Empty.

One white linen coat.

Two dental mirrors.

Dental rolls of cotton wool.

Do you reckon he's a dentist,
by any chance?

- It's an unforgivable
invasion of privacy.

I demand to speak to my husband
and my lawyer at once.

- It won't do any good, Cecily.

- It's perfectly normal
procedure, I think you'll find.

After all, the murder weapon
might still be concealed

in someone's bag or case.

- Just take me to a telephone.

- This way, madame.

- You stay here.

- Yes, ma'am.

- I'm sorry, sir, but nobody's
allowed on the plane.

Those are my orders.

- We need to get on board.

- I've strict instructions.
I'm sorry.

- But we haven't cleared up
in there.

There's coffee cups
and goodness knows what.

- He won't let us on board.

- Oh, dear.
- Ridiculous.

In all the time
I've worked here--

- If you please,
Monsieur Mitchell.

Will you excuse us, Constable?

One moment, if you please.

I have a question,
if you would be so good.

Did either of you
during the flight see a wasp?

- A sort of squashed wasp,
yes, sir,

in the young Frenchman's saucer
when I gave him more coffee.

- But did you see
the wasp alive?

Did either of you see the wasp
flying around the cabin?

- No.

No, I can't say I did.

- Nor did I.

But surely it was the dart
that killed the poor woman.

Hasn't that been established?

- Almost certainly,
yes, mademoiselle.

- Then why--

- Mademoiselle Grey,

when was the last time you saw
to be alive Madame Giselle?

- Well, I suppose

when I collected up the plates
after the meal.

- Yes, she was alive
when I poured her coffee.

A few minutes later
that would be.

- Merci.

Merci bien.

Just one more question.

Madame Giselle, had she ever
flown with you before?

- I'd never seen her.

But I've only been working here
a few weeks.

- Ah, yes, of course.

And you, monsieur?

- Well, yes,
as a matter of fact,

she flew with us quite often.

She usually went in
the first plane in the morning,

the 9:00.

This one sometimes gets busy,

but there's always room
in the 9:00.

- They've found something,
Poirot.

You better come along with me.

- Thank you very much.

- A wooden pipe, Poirot.

- So I see, Chief Inspector.

- Just what I was looking for.

All we need to know now
is how it got here.

- You see the markings?

I think you will find...

that it is South American.

Just as is the dart.

- What's that you've got?

- I do not know.

But I am sure
all will become clear.

The wooden tube
is rather beautiful,

is it not, Chief Inspector?

- Quite frankly, Poirot,
I don't much care

whether it's beautiful
or South American.

At the moment,
I'd just like to know

who was sitting here.

- I was sitting here,
Chief Inspector.

- Oh.

Oh, well, that puts a different
complexion on it, I suppose.

- Mais non.

Not at all.

Check it for the fingerprints,
if you please.

I insist.

I understand it is your duty

as a policeman of Scotland Yard

to regard everyone as guilty

until he is proven
to be innocent.

- No, no, really--

- And I tell you,
Chief Inspector,

I regard it as my duty
to clear my name

of this inexcusable slur
as soon as possible.

- Stephen?
I had to talk to you.

I must warn you,
something awful's happened.

There's been a murder.

Yes, on the plane.

That Giselle woman.

- Oui, Inspecteur.

- Ouvrez la porte!
Police!

Ouvrez-nous tout de suite.

Allez... ouvrez!
Ouvrez!

Ouvrez la porte!

Ouvrez-nous tout de suite!

Inspecteur Fournier, Sret.

- Enchante, Inspecteur.

- I demand to speak
to the person in charge.

- Sorry, madame--

- Don't "madame" me.

Do you know who I am?

- What's going on?

- It really doesn't make
any difference.

- What did you say?
- I've strict--

- I think you will discover,
Chief Inspector,

that it is Lady Horbury.

- Person in charge.
- So you say.

But I'm afraid I have
strict instructions.

Look, I've told you, madame.

- What seems to be the problem,
Constable?

- This lady--

- Are you
the senior policeman here?

- Chief Inspector Japp, yes.

- I'd like to talk to you
on your own.

I wish to complain.

- If you just go back
to the lounge, please, madame,

I shall be questioning
everyone shortly.

- Uh, Chief Inspector Japp,

I think it would be better
to talk to Lady Horbury now.

She was sitting in the seat
directly in front of mine.

- Oh, was she?
- Oui.

- Right.

All right, Constable.

Have you ever seen this before,
Lady Horbury?

- No, certainly not.
Why?

- Lady Horbury, at any time
during the flight,

did you see anyone move
to the rear of the plane?

- What's it got to do with you?

- Just answer the question,
please.

- No.

I was sitting facing the front.

How could I?
I never left my seat.

- But I am thinking
about the last half hour

in particular.

Did you not notice
anyone at all?

- No.

Well, apart from the steward
and stewardess.

They were clearing the tables
and then serving coffee.

They passed by a few times.

- Did you see a wasp?

- A wasp?
No.

- And did you know
the murdered woman,

Lady Horbury?

- N-no.

No, I'd never seen her before.

- Just when I thought
we were getting somewhere.

- There is something that
troubles you, Chief Inspector?

- I've just heard from Fournier.

They've only just
dragged themselves round

to Giselle's house.

By the time they got there,

her blasted maid had destroyed
all her papers.

- Ah.

Then perhaps it was
their lunchtime

when you informed them
what happened.

- I beg your pardon.

- Well, it is very important
in France, the lunchtime,

but for the eating
and afterwards, the sleeping,

not for the catching
of the criminals

and the collecting
of the evidence.

Why do you need these papers,
Chief Inspector?

- Because I think Lady Horbury
knew Giselle.

I could see it in her eyes.

But I need proof.

- Well, I told them
it's a waste of time

looking through our luggage.

- Just because
they've let us go,

it doesn't mean
they don't suspect one of us.

- Exactly, all it means is

they couldn't find the evidence
to keep us here.

- Excuse me, mademoiselle,

that gentleman over there
with the mustaches,

can you tell me who he is?

- Yes.
That's Hercule Poirot.

He's the famous detective.

- Tell me, did either of you see
anyone pass by Madame Giselle

during the flight?

- Yes, I did.

I was handing out the meals.

I saw Mr. Clancy
walk right by her.

He was carrying a book.

I assume he'd taken it
from his bag or coat.

He went straight back
to his seat with it.

- Did he pause as he walked by?

Or do anything
in any way unusual?

- I don't think so.

But I wasn't really
concentrating on him.

I'm still not used to the work.

I was terrified
of dropping the food.

- I see.

And did either of you
see anyone else get up?

- No.

- Well, actually,
I got up myself,

but only to go to the toilet.

- Which is at the other end
of the cabin.

- Yeah.

- Ah.

Au revoir, Monsieur Gale.

- Monsieur Poirot.

- What an impressive house.

- Yes.

I wish I could say it was mine,

but I'm afraid it's my uncle's.

The surgery's here too.
We both work here.

- Well, good-bye.
- Ah, good-bye.

I was wondering,

are you possibly free
for dinner,

perhaps tomorrow night?

- Goodness.

Well, it's--how lovely.
Yes.

- Yes?
Good.

I'll telephone you tomorrow.

- You are thinking
of Monsieur Gale, mademoiselle?

- No, actually.

I was thinking of Mr. Dupont.

- Ah, the archaeologist.

Why is it that you think of him?

- Well, because he came up
and asked me who you were.

- Mm.

- It was a bit odd.
That's all.

- And so you see, to Poirot,
nobody is above suspicion.

- Well, I hope you don't think

either of them
killed the poor woman.

- En effet, mademoiselle,
either could have done it.

Merci.

Monsieur Gale, because he could
have had access to the poison.

He would have known the doctors.
For him, it would be easy.

And Monsieur Dupont,

because he travels
around the world

visiting the places exotiques,

he could have purchased
the poison and the pipes.

And of course,
he killed the wasp.

- But I thought Madame Giselle
was killed with the dart.

- Yes, you are right,
mademoiselle.

The wasp is
not so much interesting

as suggestive, I think.

Ah.

Mademoiselle Grey,

would you be kind enough
to help me?

- Afternoon.
- Afternoon.

- Ah.

Thank you, mademoiselle.

Good evening.

- Monsieur Poirot?

- Yes.

I'm Lord Horbury.

- Ah, yes.

Please.

- Thank you.

You see, my wife, well,

in many ways, she's just
not suited to the life I lead.

It's a bit of a washout,
really, our marriage.

It's entirely my fault.

I freely admit that.

I fell for her, you see.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Well, she was an actress.

You know what actresses
are like.

- No.

What are actresses like,
Lord Horbury?

- Well, um,

all things to all men,
in my experience.

I mean, she'd play the
country lady but to perfection,

until she got bored
with the part.

- So why do you come to me now,
Lord Horbury?

- Well, we've had the police
round already.

I don't know how they found out.

But they discovered
she knew the murdered woman.

- And do you believe
that this could have been

sufficient justification
for her to kill her?

- No.

As I said,
we don't get on.

We don't get on at all.

But, God, I know
what she's capable of.

And she's not capable of murder.

Never.

- We've been sitting here
watching his house

for an hour and a half.

He's never going to turn up.

- Monsieur Clancy will turn up
eventually, mademoiselle.

Have no fear.

- There he is.

- Do not forget the shorthand,
mademoiselle.

- But I told you
I don't do shorthand.

- Neither, I am sure,
does Monsieur Clancy.

Just make the little squiggles
with confidence.

It will unnerve him.

Monsieur Clancy, I confess,
I am at a loss.

I tried to deduce who is
the murderer of Madame Giselle,

but there are several suspects.

The little gray cells,
never do they let me down,

but in this case...

And so in despair,
I come to you.

- Why me?

- Because, Monsieur Clancy,
I'm a great admirer

of your detective
Monsieur Wilbraham Rice.

Such logic,
such a mind!

Indeed, Monsieur Clancy,

I have read everything
that you have written.

Now, Mademoiselle Grey here
has agreed to assist me.

I know that you will have
some theory of your own

about who committed the murder.

If you would be so good
to tell it,

then Mademoiselle Grey
will take it down

so that I may absorb it later.

- I'm sorry.
No, it's impossible.

- Oh, come, come, come,
monsieur.

You are too modest.

- I'm useless
at this sort of thing.

Wilbraham does it, you see.

He works it all out for me.

He's quite brilliant.

He was helping me only just now
when I was out.

We were retracing the steps
of a murder.

Terrible stabbing.

- Monsieur Clancy, I am talking
about a real murder,

and one of the chief suspects
is yourself.

Oh, yes.

You had the opportunity,

and you were observed
to pass by Madame Giselle

during the flight.

- I deny it.

- But I saw you, Mr. Clancy.

You were carrying a book.

- Oh, yes, of course.

My Bradshaw.

It gives the railway times.

Wilbraham told me
to go and get it

to check the villain's alibi.

He was absolutely right.

Really cracked it.

I'd never have noticed it
myself.

- Perhaps Monsieur Rice
could solve another puzzle.

You told to me that you knew
of the South American Indians

and their poison darts

because of research
for one of your books.

Unfortunately, Monsieur Clancy,

there is no mention
of this subject

in any of your books.

But to my surprise,

what do I see on your shelf?

But this.

- With the powers invested in me
by the registrar of Paris,

I now declare you man and wife.

- Je dois aller la police.
C'est trs important.

Trs vite.

- Entrez!

- Bonjour.

- Do you speak English?

- I do.
Why?

- You're in charge
of the Giselle case?

- Yes.

- My name is Anne.

I'm Madame Giselle's daughter.

And I've come to claim
my inheritance.

- Ah.

Looking forward to the flight,
Poirot?

Gonna be a bit bumpy
they tell me.

Gale-force winds forecast
over the Channel.

- I have checked already,
Chief Inspector.

The air, it will be
beautifully calm all of the day.

Otherwise, I cancel my flight,
and you go on your own.

- Just a joke.

Anyway, I've been talking
to Lord and Lady Horbury again.

- I admire your industry,
Chief Inspector.

- And Venetia Kerr.

It's quite clear
that Lady Horbury

went off gambling
every night in Paris

and used to come back
in a terrible state.

But the morning
before they left,

she was particularly desperate.

- Which you assume is connected
with Madame Giselle.

And so we return to Paris
to see what else we can find

to finally incriminate
the Lady Horbury.

- Well, yes, that's what
we're going for, isn't it?

Or have you got
a completely different theory

you're not telling me about?

- I am reaching

certain conclusions,
Chief Inspector.

But conclusions which do not yet
fit together, unfortunately.

First, I conclude that the wasp
is of vital importance.

- Yes, but she wasn't killed
by the wasp.

Forensic have already
confirmed that.

- And secondly,
the sudden appearance

of the daughter
of Madame Giselle,

who we assume will inherit
the money of her mother.

- Unless they find a will
that says differently.

- Of course it is possible

that the daughter might be
an imposter.

Or perhaps Madame Giselle
did not even have a daughter.

- Sir?
- Ah.

- Would you care to order?

- Full English, please.

- If you please, madame,

may I have the use of your seat
just for one moment?

Thank you.

Monsieur.
- Monsieur.

- Thank you.

- What are you doing?

- Pardon?

- Where'd you get that?

- This?

From Monsieur Daniel Clancy.

It was in his house.

- That's evidence, Poirot.

- Alors, Chief Inspector,
may I present it to you?

For myself, I have
no further use of it.

- I hope you're
not going to make

an exhibition of yourself here
like you did on that plane.

- But my experiments were
very useful, Chief Inspector.

They showed how dangerous
a woman is Lady Horbury.

- Well, exactly.

- Et bien...

to be able to blow
the poison dart

from one end of the cabin
to the other?

First, she must have
a lot of puff.

Secondly...

her aim must be as good
as that of Fred Perry himself.

And finally,

she must have been able
to become invisible

so that no one on the plane
saw her do it.

I apologize, mon ami.

Poirot has gone too far?

- I'm surprised at you, Poirot,

you of all people.

I mean, what we're talking
about here

is the psychological moment,
surely.

Whoever murdered Giselle,

whether it was Lady Horbury
or even Daniel Clancy,

clearly, they chose just
the psychological moment

when no one was looking,

so they could shoot the dart
from wherever they wanted.

- Psychology.

You are right, Chief Inspector.

There must have been
the reason psychological

why no one on the plane
saw the murderer.

That is what we must discover.

But first, we must talk
to the daughter.

If the daughter is
what she really is.

- What do you mean she's gone?

- She arranged
to return here today

where I agreed we would take
further particulars.

She was in such a hurry before,
but she did not return.

- Well, let's go and find her,
Fournier.

How about that for a plan?

- That is the problem, you see.

I do not know where.

- You mean you didn't take
her address?

- No.

After all, she came to claim
her inheritance,

a very large amount of money
probably.

Why should she not return?

- Chief Inspector,
I would like it

that you stay and work
with Inspector Fournier,

if you please.

- Ha!

- Look, please do not be
difficult, Chief Inspector.

We are in great need of the help
of the Sret.

- We just had their help.
Look where it's got us.

- Please, Chief Inspector, look.

You remember that I remove
from the wooden tube

a tiny piece of paper.

I have been studying it.
Observe it, if you please.

It has on it the letter F,

which I believe
stands for "francs."

It is, I think, the remains
of a price ticket

which has been torn off.

Therefore, the wooden tube,
it was purchased from a shop,

in Paris probably.

- I thought it came from
the South American Indians.

- No.

But now we have the need
to discover

where then is this shop?

And Inspector Fournier
and his men

will help you to find it.

- And what are you going to do?

- First, I must rest
the little gray cells.

And then I pursue the matter
of the disappearing daughter.

- On demande Madame de la Roche.

Paging Madame de la Roche.

On demande Madame de la Roche.

Paging Madame de la Roche.

- Bonjour.
- Bonjour.

Un homme a rserv
une chambre pour moi.

Il s'appelle Poirot.

- Ah, yes, of course.

Monsieur Hercule Poirot.

And you are Miss Grey.

- Yes.
Thank you.

- How do you do, Miss Grey?

- How do you do?
Mr. Dupont.

What a surprise.

Where are we going?

- I want to show you
some of the remarkable things

that archaeologists have in
the past unearthed, Miss Grey.

- Well, wait a minute.
This is ridiculous.

How did you know
where to find me, Mr. Dupont?

- It was easy.
I telephoned the airline.

I said that I was your brother,

that I urgently needed
to contact you.

- But why?

- Because I need your help.

- Have you ever dug up
anything like this?

- Not personally, no.

Not yet.

My father,
he was the expert.

He devoted his life to the study
of equatorial Africa.

Last year, he died.

So this year,
I plan an expedition there

to continue his work.

- What a good idea.

- Unfortunately,
I have no money.

I need money to fund
the expedition.

I look for private donations,

but the average person,
it is terrible.

They care nothing
about primitive culture.

- Well, I hope you don't think
I've got any money.

I wish I had.

- No, no, it is not you,
Mademoiselle Grey.

It is the gentleman
with the mustaches,

Monsieur Poirot.

He is a man of style
and culture.

He has money, I think.

You know him well?

- Not well, no.

No, hardly at all.

- Ah.

How unfortunate.

I wish to ask if you
would consider a small donation.

- Poirot?

Give money to the digging up
of Africa?

Mon Dieu.

Mm, perhaps that is not
such a bad idea.

Voil.
We are here.

I will need your advice,
mademoiselle.

- Why?
How can I help?

- You are a daughter,
are you not?

We hear that Madame Giselle
had a daughter,

but perhaps this is wrong.

- This is an eerie place.

So cold and unfriendly.

Not what I would consider
a home.

I mean, there's nothing
personal in it.

Nothing at all.

- Mm, you are right.

S'il vous plat?

There are no souvenirs,
no photographs,

no memories.

Est-ce que Madame Giselle
avait de la famille, Elise?

- Non, monsieur.

Ses parents sont morts.

- Morts?

What's she saying?
That someone's dead?

- Her mistress had no family.

Both her parents are dead.

Avat-elle des enfants?

- Non, aucun.

- And there are no children?

- No.

Comme c'est curieux, Elise.

Une femme dont le nom
est Anne Giselle

vient de refaire surface.

- Anne?

Anne Giselle a refait surface?

- She knows the name.

So Anne Giselle does exist.

- Est-ce que Anne est la fille
de madame Giselle?

Oui.

C'tait sa fille.
Illgitime.

J' ai d prendre soin d'elle
pour madame,

jusqu' ce qu'elle se spare.

- Oh.

- Il y a vingt-trois ans.
Je ne l'ai jamais revue depuis.

- The baby of Madame Giselle
was illegitimate

so that Elise
had to take care of her.

- What did she say,
something about 23 years ago?

- It is 23 years
that her mistress

took the baby away from Elise,

and she has not seen her since.

- Attendez.

Voil.

- Ah.
Merci.

- Ah, Poirot.

- Excusez-moi.

- Went and tracked down the shop
that sold the dart.

81 Porte de Clignancourt.

Greek called Zeropoulos runs it.

- Merveilleux.

The efficiency
of the French police, no?

Regarde, mon ami.

- What is it?

- It is a photograph

of the daughter
of Madame Giselle.

Ah, marvelous.

Be a great help in tracing her,
that will.

Hold on.
I've got some photos here.

Excusez-moi.

Have any of these people
ever been here?

- Uh...

Reconnaisez vous
quelqu'un, Elise?

- Non.

- Encore une question,
s'il vous plat?

Est-ce que vous avez reserv

la place de Madame Giselle
sur le vol?

- What are you asking?

- Oui.

- Alors, pourquoi
n'a-t-elle pas pris

le vol de 9:00 du matin?

- Il tait plein.
Il n'y avait plus de place.

- I ask her why Madame Giselle

did not take the morning flight
as was usual for her.

- And why didn't she?

- Because the 9:00 flight,
it was full, videmment.

There was no room on it.

- Well, you can't say fairer
than that, can you?

- Qu'est-ce qui se pass, huh?

- Ah, excusez-moi, madame.

- Qu'est-ce qu'il y a ici?
Qu'est-ce qui se passe, huh?

- Do you speak English?

- Quoi?

Qu'est-ce que vous dites, ah?

- English?

- Where's Cecily?

- Oh, don't worry.

She's in bed, fast asleep.

- It's been nice being out
in the fresh air like this.

- Just the two of us you mean?

- Yes.

Yes, I suppose I do.

- Well, who knows?

One day, well,
maybe things will be simpler.

- If Cecily did
the decent thing you mean?

- And what would
the decent thing be

in your opinion, Venetia?

- Well, if she confessed,
I suppose.

Isn't that what we both want,
really, Stephen?

- Japp here.

Yes, I know it's crackly.
I'm talking from France.

I want you to find
Lady Cecily Horbury at once.

H-O-R,
B for Bertie,

U-R-Y.

Belgravia.

Oh, yes, another place,
big house in Suffolk.

Well, look it up in the file.

And don't lose sight of her.

What?

Yes!

And ring me back as soon as
you've traced her.

Morning, Fournier.

Sit down.

So what have you
found out for me?

- I've been to see

Madame Giselle's lawyer,
Inspector.

- Chief Inspector.

- Uh, Chief Inspector.

I've seen the will,
and it is true.

Madame Giselle left
her daughter, Anne Giselle,

all her money,

except for a small amount
for the maid,

Elise Grandier.

- I see.

Thank you, Fournier.

- That is correct.

The 9:00 flight was full,

so I booked Madame Giselle
on the midday flight.

- How strange.

- Why?
What's strange about it?

Flights are often booked up
well in advance.

- But not this one, monsieur.

- What do you mean?

- I'm an air stewardess.

A colleague of mine was
on the 9:00 flight.

She told me
it was virtually empty.

- So perhaps you can now tell me
the truth, monsieur.

- Well, it--

Very well.

A man came in.

He gave me 4,000 francs

to tell her the early plane
was full.

There didn't seem to be
any harm in it.

I didn't know
she was going to be murdered.

- Describe this man,
s'il vous plat.

He was an American,

tall, young,

with a goatee beard
and glasses.

- Thank you.

- Ah, yes.

With glasses
and a hat.

And he chewed gum
like all Americans.

And his French accent,

it was terrible.

- Of course.
Bon.

- Look.

I will show you the tray
where I keep the wooden pipes.

The junk tray I call it.

I keep it for all the Americans.

No, no, no, no.

I bring it to you.

Enjoy the sun.

- Merci.

- But there wasn't
an American on board.

So where'd he come from?

- Mademoiselle,

you have helped me
very, very much.

I thank you.

- Well, I haven't done much.

- Oh, yes, already you are like
a true professional.

With the young man
at airline office,

you played your role
but to perfection.

Ah!
The wooden tube.

May I?

- Oui, oui.

- C'est jolie, n'est-ce pas?

Mais qu'est-ce que c'est?

Ah.

The little pieces of silk,
such workmanship.

What else do you observe,
mademoiselle?

- Well, the silk is red.

I thought the dart
that killed Madame Giselle

had black and yellow on it.

- But you see, the murderer,

he replaced the red silk
with the black and yellow.

You seem to be in a hurry,
mademoiselle.

- Oh, not really.

Well, Norman--Mr. Gale--
said he might call.

He thought he might come over
for a couple of days.

- I see.

Um, Mademoiselle Grey,
I've been thinking.

I have been thinking very hard.

I wish that you say
to Monsieur Dupont

that Poirot is very happy
to give to him

for his expedition
the sum of 500.

- 500?

- Oui.

- That's extremely kind.

- But of course.

- la prfecture de police,
s'il vous plat.

- What if that woman
Fournier let slip

is not the real daughter,
Poirot?

- Who else do we know

who is of an age
that would be correct

for the daughter
of Madame Giselle?

I tell you.

We know three women:

the honorable Venetia Kerr,
Mademoiselle Jane Grey,

and the Lady Horbury.

All three were on the airplane.

- Well, I'd still plug
for Lady Horbury.

- But why, Chief Inspector?

- Well, for one thing,

because that concierge
at Giselle's

finally admitted
that she recognized her.

- She told you this?

- Said she'd been there
several times.

The last time, she stormed out,
slamming the door behind her.

- You discovered all this while
knowing virtually no French?

Chief Inspector,
you're a miracle.

- Well, a bit of ingenuity,

expressive hand gestures,
that sort of thing.

- Thank you.

We make progress, Fournier.

Chief Inspector Japp believes

that Lady Horbury
committed the murder.

Whereas I,
I have discovered

that the purchaser
of the poison dart was a man.

- It can't have been.

- Mais oui.
An American.

Or he seems to be.

He chews gum.

He wears American spectacles

and speaks with a most terrible
French accent.

But it is easy to be
an American in Paris,

n'est-ce pas, Fournier?

- Mais oui, certainement.

- So I suggest that he is
a stage American.

- You mean it was a disguise?

- Mm.

- So it cannot be Lady Horbury.

- Unless she has an accomplice.

Now, that is possible.

- Wasn't there some gossip
about her in the newspapers?

About her having
an actor friend.

- Not in the newspapers
that I read, Chief Inspector.

But you may be right.

- Japp here.

What?

What do you mean?

Well, where is she?

Wonderful.

I put a couple of men
onto Lady Horbury.

But it seems they were too late.

They've missed her.

No one knows where she is.

She's vanished.

- Oh, dear.

So you have now a lost suspect
too, Chief Inspector?

- So...now I leave you,
mademoiselle.

- But aren't you going to say
hello to Norman?

- Uh...

In such a situation, three is
a considerable crowd, I think.

Excuse me.

Monsieur Mitchell, is it not?

- Oh, of course.
Mr. Poirot.

- Oui.
May I, please?

- Please do.

- Thank you.

No more murders I hope,
Monsieur Mitchell.

- No.

- Bon.

Bon.

You know it is truly fortunate

to meet you here,
Monsieur Mitchell.

I have a question to ask you.

When you cleared the table of
Madame Giselle after she died,

did you notice anything unusual?

- No.
No, I don't think so.

What sort of thing?

- Anything, anything at all.

Think hard, please.
It is very important.

- Well, yes,
there was something.

It's silly, I'm sure,
but, um...

there were two coffee spoons
in her saucer.

It can sometimes happen
when you're in a rush,

and it's better to lay too much
than too little.

People can get
terribly irritable

if everything
isn't exactly right.

Still, that's not
what you're after.

Au contraire,
Monsieur Mitchell.

Thank you very much.

It is a clue
of the most vital importance.

- It's so nice to be able
to spend time together in Paris.

- Yes, it is.

And I'll be fascinated to see
where the old woman lived.

Anyway, why do you think Poirot

suddenly agreed to give Dupont
the money?

- I don't know.

Why?
Do you think it's odd?

Do you think he's worked out
some theory?

- What, that Jean Dupont
murdered Giselle?

Do you believe
he could have done it?

- I don't know.

He's a bit funny.

But he seemed quite nice to me.

- How nice?

- Not that nice.

This is her house.

We're being watched.

- Hello?

- Oh.

I...was looking
for Inspector Fournier.

- How can we help you,
mademoiselle?

- Madame.

- Madame.
Pardon.

- Well, I've come to apologize.

You see, I came to see
Inspector Fournier...

a little while ago...

about a rather important matter.

- You're Madame Giselle's
daughter?

- Yes.

- Please.
Sit down, madame.

- It's unforgivable, I know.

But I was
in such a frantic state.

You see, I only read
about her death

the day I was going
to get married.

The minute the ceremony
was finished,

I hurried over here.

And then I wished I hadn't.

I felt awful
about my poor husband

just waiting for me.

And we couldn't possibly cancel
the honeymoon.

So I just didn't come back.

- Until now when the honeymoon
has finished?

- Yes.

- Do you have any idea

of the trouble you've caused,
Mrs...

- Richards.

- I think we need a few facts.

For a start, how do we know
you're who you say you are?

- I thought of that.

I brought you
my birth certificate.

- Do I not know you, madame?

There is something about you
that I seem to recognize.

- I don't see how.

I was brought up in Toronto

after my mother abandoned me.

Do you know Canada?

- Alas, no.

- Were you ever in contact
with your mother, Mrs. Richards?

- Not at all.

She never came to Canada
to see me.

She never wrote to me.

She obviously didn't care
at all about me.

- And naturally,
you hated her for this.

- I didn't care.

That's all.

Why should I?

I just hope she's left me
a lot of money.

- Trente-six rouge.

Faites vos jeux,
mesdames et messieurs.

Faites vos jeux.

- What's the matter?

- Nothing.

What's money, after all?

Get me another drink, Raymond.

- Ah, is this the newspaper

that you tell me about,
Chief Inspector?

The one that reveres the gossip

of the English upper classes
and their friends?

- Yes, and it's very difficult
to get over here.

- So I see.
The date is yesterday.

Here, mon ami,
the newspaper of today.

- Well, thanks.

It's in French, Poirot.

Struth, there's Lady Horbury.

- She disappears
from her home in England

only to reappear here in Paris
under our very noses.

"With...

Let me translate for you,
Chief Inspector.

"With her traveling companion,

the well-known British actor
Mr. Raymond Barraclough..."

No, no, no, no, no, please.

Poirot has a plan.

- Is that all right?

- No.

It is terrible.

Regardez.

- Well, she won't be able
to recognize me.

That's what you wanted,
wasn't it?

- Yes, but I did not intend

that you should look
like Santa Claus.

Come, Monsieur Gale,
into the next room

and sit in that chair,
if you please.

Mademoiselle Grey,
if you would be so kind

as to hold the mirror.

And, Monsieur,
if you will hold the towel.

Et bien, do not worry.

Hercule Poirot will make you
look like a human being again.

- Lady Horbury.

Daily Record,
Paris correspondent.

I'm sorry to bother you,

but we'd really like to do
a piece on you

for our series,
The English in Paris.

- No, certainly not.

- No, really, Lady Horbury.

The photographer will be here
in just a second.

Just a photo of yourself
and Mr. Barraclough here.

- How dare you.

Get away from us!

- Now, I really don't think you
should be taking that attitude.

But we'll be here again
tomorrow morning, Lady Horbury.

I can see we've got
an excellent story here already.

- Now look what you've done.

- I'm sorry.

- Just leave me alone.
You're pathetic.

- Ah, Lady Horbury, bonjour.

You care to join me?

May I get you something,
a coffee perhaps?

- No.

Thank you.
I'm all right.

- A cigarette perhaps?

- Thank you.

- There is something perhaps
you would like to tell Poirot?

And then he can help?

- No, it's nothing, really.

- But I think that is not so.

On the day before the murder,

your good friend,
Monsieur Barraclough,

he was in Paris?

- Yes.

- And you saw him
while you were in Paris?

And you also saw Madame Giselle,
did you not?

And she refused to release you
from your gambling debts.

- I didn't know what to do.

Stephen wouldn't pay them.

I knew he wouldn't,
not anymore.

They were enormous.

Much more than he imagined.

She threatened me.

She said she'd tell people
about them...

people in London.

I'd never have been able
to hold my head up again.

- So the truth is

that you
and Monsieur Barraclough

were delighted when she died?

- Yes.

It was wonderful...

Almost too wonderful to believe.

- Ah, Poirot.

- Chief Inspector.
Mademoiselle.

- Well, did you find out
what you wanted?

- Yes.

Thank you, Chief Inspector.

- Anyway, I must go.

Ah, my nail.

I must file it.

- What did you say,
mademoiselle?

- What?

Oh, my nail.

It's nothing.
It needs filing.

- Nom de nom de nom.

Now I understand.

Chief Inspector,

get a taxi at once.

Unless I am very much mistaken,

Madame Richards,
she is in great danger.

- She left about an hour ago
with an American.

She seemed surprised to see him.

- And where did they go, madame?
Can you tell us that?

- Oh, yes.

He ordered a taxi
for the Gare du Nord.

They were going to England.

I heard him tell her.

- May I use your phone, ma'am?

- Madame?

- Suicide?

- That is what the police
suspect, Monsieur Gale.

- That's terrible.
- Oui.

- What about her husband?
Has he been told?

- I believe the police
have been unable

to trace the whereabouts
of Monsieur Richards...so far.

- Is there anything
we can do to help?

- I regret that it is too late
for anyone to help the daughter

of Madame Giselle.

However, if you both
would be so kind,

there is something
you could do to help.

Please join me in my suite,

as I have called together

all those I consider relevant
to this case.

- Why?
Surely, you don't think--

- Mademoiselle,

I think only of apprehending
the murderer of Madame Giselle.

I hope you
only think of that also.

Mesdames et messieurs,

first, I have the task

to restore the reputation
of Hercule Poirot,

the celebrated detective

who had the misfortune
not to observe

the cunning murder
of Madame Marie Giselle

even though it took place
not ten meters away from him.

And so...

when I had the dubious pleasure

to attend the final
of the tennis match,

I observed an incident
between you, Lady Horbury,

and Madame Giselle.

It seemed to me quite clear
that she had some hold of you...

- No more money,
comprenez?

- A hold that you might go
to any lengths to be rid of.

- Oh, now, that is outrageous.

Cicely would never be involved--

- Monsieur Raymond Barraclough,

you are, I understand, an actor?

A profession that I think
would equip you very well

for the impersonation
of the mysterious American

who seems to have been
the accomplice of the murderer.

- And how are we supposed to
have carried out this murder?

- Well, as for opportunity,

the wooden tube was hidden

in the gap next to your seat
on the plane.

But as my experiments proved
most conclusively,

it would have been impossible

for anyone to have blown
the dart on the plane

without the greatest risk
of being seen.

And so we ask ourselves
this question.

why was the wooden tube
hidden in such a place

where it would undoubtedly
have been found?

- To mislead us.

- Vraiment,
Chief Inspector.

So next, we come to the wasp.

What was the purpose
of the wasp?

- The same thing.

To mislead us as well.

- Thank you, Mademoiselle Grey.

You know, Mademoiselle Grey

has been such a help to me
throughout.

Une parfaite assistante.

And she is right.

But by the time the body of
Madame Giselle was discovered,

the wasp,
it was dead also,

because it had been killed...

by Monsieur Dupont.

- It was buzzing
around my coffee.

- But did you
have to kill it, sir?

Was that really necessary?

What?

Are you saying
that because I killed a wasp,

I also killed Madame Giselle?

That is ridiculous.

- If the wasp was put there
to mislead us,

was there not also a danger
of it failing to do so?

Unless, of course, our attention
was drawn to it

by the murderer himself.

- It's a wasp sting.

I killed a wasp with my cup.

All I did was kill a wasp
with my cup.

- However,
mesdames et messieurs,

we know that the murder,

it was not committed
by the wasp.

And we know
that it was not committed

by the use of the wooden tube.

No.

It was committed
by the poison dart being pushed

into the neck of Madame Giselle
by the hand.

Now, we know
of only three people

who passed by Madame Giselle
during the flight:

the two air stewards,

Monsieur Mitchell
and Mademoiselle Jane Grey;

and Monsieur Daniel Clancy.

- Oh, I really--
I didn't come all this way to--

- So why did you come
all this way, Mr. Clancy?

Because it would have been
too suspicious to have refused?

- How dare you!

- Monsieur Clancy displayed
an expert knowledge

of the murder weapon.

- Goodness, it's a dart.

Native dart.

- And in his house,

I found a wooden tube
very similar

to the one we discovered
on the plane.

- I told you,

it was for research for a book.

- For a book that you
never wrote, Monsieur Clancy.

- Because Wilbraham
wouldn't let me.

He thought the whole idea
preposterous.

How can I write
a detective story

when my detective refuses
to take any part in it?

- What's he talking about?

- I feel that Monsieur Clancy
suffers from a malady

common to many writers
of fiction.

His characters,
they take control.

At times, they appear to him
more real

than the world around him.

- You mean he's a madman.

A murdering madman.

Keep him away from me.

- Please, Lady Horbury,

rest calm.

Now, as for
the two air stewards,

I have already discounted
Monsieur Mitchell.

- Well, that only seems
to leave you, Miss Grey.

Wouldn't you say?

- Now, look, I'm sorry.

I protest.

This is past a joke.

- No.

It's all right, Norman.

- I was indeed suspicious
of Mademoiselle Grey.

I was suspicious
of her new friendship

with Monsieur Gale.

Was this friendship really new?

Or was she the true daughter
of Madame Giselle?

But then, of course, at last,
we met the real daughter

of Madame Giselle.

As soon as she entered
the room...

- I...was looking
for Inspector Fournier.

- I was convinced

I had seen this lady
somewhere before.

It was not until
Mademoiselle Grey

caught her nail
that I remembered.

- Oh, my nail.

I must file it.

- In the lobby of the hotel,

when I first saw Lady Horbury,

she was accompanied by her maid.

- Fetch my cigarettes, will you?

- Yes, Lady Horbury.

- On the plane when she
called out for the nail file,

it was brought to her
by this same maid,

a lady
that we later came to know

as Anne Giselle.

- I've come to claim
my inheritance.

- This is all very ingenious,

but I'm afraid Monsieur Poirot
doesn't really mean it.

He keeps deliberately changing
his story.

First, poor Jane killed Giselle.

And now her daughter did.

- No, no, no, Monsieur Gale,

the daughter
did not kill the mother.

The maid of Lady Horbury,

she left the first-class cabin
at the start of the flight,

and we know that Madame Giselle

did not die
until shortly before we landed.

- Then how...did she die?

- Hmm.

You will recall, Monsieur Gale,

that I asked you
to disguise yourself

as a reporter
to go to see Lady Horbury.

- We'd really like to do a piece
on you for our series...

- What, he was--

- I apologize for the deceit,
madame.

But you know, at first,
the disguise of Monsieur Gale,

it was hopelessly
unconvincing, huh?

But why?

Why was the disguise
of Monsieur Gale

so unconvincing?

There are two reasons for this.

First, to make me believe
that it would be impossible

for him to impersonate
the mysterious American;

and secondly,

and most important of all,

to ensure that I would
never learn the truth

about how this murder
was committed.

You see,

in the list
of the personal belongings

of Monsieur Gale,

I had already noticed

that he was traveling
with his dentist's coat.

During the flight,
when coffee had been served

and the air stewards were
in another part of the plane,

Monsieur Gale makes the visit
to the toilettes.

He changes
into his dentist's coat

and alters his appearance

with the help
of some cotton wool

which he had brought
for the purpose.

He picks up a spoon,

which gives him the task
of a steward to carry out,

and hurries down the corridor
of the plane.

He then pushes the poison thorn

into the neck
of Madame Marie Giselle.

On his way back,
while I was asleep,

he put the wooden tube
into the seat in front of mine.

He then returned
to the toilettes

and removed his disguise.

- Very good.

Very good, Monsieur Poirot.

You have thrown
the real murderer

completely off his guard.

Now...

could we have the real solution,
please?

- I think you will find,
Monsieur Gale,

that the truth
of how this crime began

is even more intriguing.

Anne Giselle hated her mother

for abandoning her
when she was a baby.

She was brought up in Canada

and came to England
to work as a maid.

By coincidence,

she came into the employment
of Lady Horbury

and began to move
into the high society.

Despite your humble profession,
Monsieur Gale,

you aspired yourself
to this society.

And no doubt,
it was on one such occasion

that you met the maid
of Lady Horbury.

Your...relationship?

It developed,

until one day, this same maid
told to you her secret.

She pointed out to you
her mother

and told you of the power
she had over Lady Horbury.

Of course, after 23 years,

Madame Giselle did not recognize
her daughter.

And luckily for you,

her daughter
hated her mother so much

that she willingly agreed
to your plan...

to murder her in such a way

that Lady Horbury
would be blamed.

- He planned all that?

I could've--

I mean, the police very nearly--

- With Madame Giselle dead,
it was essential

that Monsieur Gale should
now be married to the daughter.

Anne would claim
her inheritance,

but in the event of her death,

her husband would receive
the wealth of Madame Giselle.

But then Monsieur Gale learned
that I had met Anne

in the office
of Inspector Fournier.

- He ordered a taxi
for the Gare du Nord.

- He was terrified
that I might discover

that also she was the maid.

- Madame?

- The poor woman's death
was suicide.

You told me.

- No, no, no, no, no,
Monsieur Gale.

You see, you left
your fingerprints

on the poison bottle.

- Now, that's absolutely
ridiculous because I wore--

- You wore the gloves
when you committed the murder?

Indeed.

Thank you.

- You better come along
with me, sir.

- Why?

Why did you do it, Norman?

- For the money, Jane.

For a very great deal of money.

Why else?

- I thought...

I don't know.

- You liked Monsieur Gale?

- Yes.

- And you thought
that he liked you?

But you are wrong,
mademoiselle.

- Obviously.

- No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

He did not like you.

He loved you.

It is true.

I see it in the eyes.

- I was getting
a bit worried there, Poirot,

in case you'd done it after all,

in your sleep perhaps.

- Very droll, Chief Inspector.

- One thing
I don't understand, though.

What put you on to Norman Gale
in the first place?

- In the first place?
Et bien.

In the first place, I looked
for the home of the wasp.

And in the belongings
of Monsieur Gale,

there was a matchbox,

an empty matchbox.

Parfait.

- So where are you taking me,
Poirot?

A little farewell lunch I hope.

Nice little restaurant
you've just discovered?

I'm getting quite keen
on this French food, you know.

- Not exactly, Chief Inspector.

Food for the soul, mon ami.