THUNDER RUMBLES RAIN PATTERING BEDSPRING CREAKING HE SIGHS Sorry.

Oh, it's all right, my darling.

I just can't believe they'd do this.

I know.

I know.

Everything I touch... You mustn't think like that.

We have each other, our whole lives to look forward to.

I'm broke, Jackie.

What sort of a future is that?

Well, I have some put by that will see us through for a little while.

And I'll think of something.

I promise.

I promise you, my darling.

We love each other, and that's all that matters, yes?

♪ Mad about the boy ♪ ♪ I know it's stupid To be mad about the boy ♪ ♪ I'm so ashamed of it But must admit... ♪ She's had the most terrible luck.

When we were at school together in Paris, her father ran off with some woman, and then her mother lost all her money in the crash.

I mean, Jackie was left absolutely penniless.

I don't know how she's managed these past few years.

Oh, she wants something, I bet.

I've offered to help, but she won't hear of it.

Isn't it awful when one's friends fall on hard times?

One simply has to drop them.

She sounded very excited, but then, she always does.

It's the Latin in her.

JOANNA: The boys are back from their ramble.

England's manhood.

LINNET: You and Tim seem awfully close.

Is there something going on that I don't know about?

- Oh, good heavens, no.

The only woman in Tim Allerton's life is his mummy.

All far too Sophoclean for my taste.

And what about the good lord?

Still panting for you, is he?

He's not the panting type.

According to the gossip columnists, you're halfway up the aisle.

Oh, no, not yet.

Not ever.

Well, not him, anyway.

But, darling, he's absolutely rolling.

So am I. LINNET SNIFFS Oh, so divine.

I bet these cost more than the house.

Looks and money.

I can't believe I like you.

LINNET: Joanna, darling, you don't like anyone.

Don't I?

Oh, well.

KNOCK ON DOOR Yes?

Mademoiselle De Bellefort will be here for supper.

Thank you, Louise.

JOANNA: What on earth's wrong with her?

Look, her ghastly boyfriend is in trouble with the law, and, can you believe, she's asked me to stand bail for him?

I said, "On no account," and that, frankly, prison's the best place for him.

- Oh, dear.

- She'll get over it.

Allow me.

There.

God, I wonder what Jackie wants.

The fact is, darling, I'm engaged.

So that's it.

Who is he?

His name's Simon Doyle, and he's big and boyish and deliciously uncomplicated.

He's been working in the city, and, um, now they're, well, cutting down, so he's out of a job.

Oh, Linnet, I shall die if I can't marry him.

I shall simply die.

- My dear, you have got it bad.

Well, when I heard you bought this place, I realised you'd be needing a land agent, and I thought Simon.

Oh, darling, he'd be just perfect.

He loves the country, knows all about estates, and if he doesn't come up to scratch, well, you can always sack him.

Say you will, Linnet, please.

LAUGHTER Oh, I knew you wouldn't let me down!

We want to go to Egypt for our honeymoon.

Can you imagine walking down an avenue of sphinxes with the man you love?

Could anything be more romantic?

Bring him along, and I'll take a look.

Well, actually, he's here.

What?

Just in case you said yes.

You'll adore him.

Simon.

This is Simon Doyle.

Simon, this is Linnet Ridgeway, the most wonderful friend a girl could have.

Well, now, isn't this simply lovely?

BELL RINGING MAN SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY JAZZ MUSIC PLAYS Isn't that Hercule Poirot?

Do you mean that dwarfish-looking creature mincing down the stairs?

Oh, that's not very nice, darling.

TIM: What on earth is he doing here?

LAUGHTER I'd love someone to dance with me.

Oh, but who on this planet would want to dance with you?

Perhaps someone may if I stayed... And pigs might fly.

Remember, my dear, why you're here.

- To be handy, Cousin Marie.

- Precisely.

After you've prepared my couchette, you may attend to my eggnog.

You're not gonna be grumpy, are you, darling?

If only there were more young people around... Oh, whatever for?

Oh, you'd like it if JOANNA were here.

- No, I wouldn't.

- Mm-hm.

In fact, I wouldn't care if I never saw Joanna again.

I don't need Joanna when I have you.

Oh, darling.

HE CHUCKLES My God, did you see that?

Keep your voice down.

She's old enough to be his mother.

She IS his mother.

I need some air.

Ah.

Merci.

SALOME: Monsieur Poirot?

Madame.

- Salome Otterbourne.

- Enchante.

That Gallic charm.

You French are all the same.

But I am Belgian, madame.

I was wondering if you would care to trip the light fantastic avec moi?

- Trip?

I know this is the wrong way around, but, after all, we are liberated now.

JAZZ MUSIC CONTINUES I was a great supporter of the suffragettes, you know?

So, are you here on business?

Are there grave affairs to be dealt with?

No, madame.

I am simply the man of leisure.

SHE LAUGHS Essential, n'est-ce pas?

To be out of London in January.

Poor man.

She's got her claws into him already.

I'm here for the local colour.

My new book, Snow On The Desert's Face, is set in these parts.

No doubt it will cause another furore, but no matter.

I speak the truth.

Why is everyone so afraid of sex?

HE CHUCKLES The stars of the show.

MRS ALLERTON: You'd think she'd have some sense of shame.

TIM: Oh, don't be so old-fashioned.

MRS ALLERTON: Well, she is rather lovely, I must admit.

Linnet Doyle's the only heiress in England that doesn't look like a horse.

PENNINGTON: Ah.

Hello, Andrew.

Spectacular.

Right over here.

Seems that everybody who is anybody is in Egypt ce soir.

The lure of the fleshpots, no doubt.

- You remember Simon.

- Yes.

FERGUSON: Incredible, isn't it?

Millions unemployed, a lunatic about to take power in Germany, and all we read about is how some spoilt brat ditched a lord for her best friend's fiance.

Some people have everything.

Depends on what you think is worth having.

Hello, Simon.

- Hi, how are you?

- Wonderful.

- Hello, Tim.

Thank you.

- Linnet, you look ravishing.

This is Andrew Pennington, my American trustee.

We just bumped into him in Cairo.

Uh, yes, quite a coincidence.

Mother, I'm sure Monsieur Poirot would like a rest.

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

I think that is a good idea, because... No, no, no, no, no.

Please.

Because my dinner seems a little reluctant to settle.

If you will excuse me... Of course, monsieur.

We shall resume tres bientot.

Oui.

Merci.

Au revoir.

MUSIC ENDS, CHEERS AND APPLAUSE JAZZ MUSIC RESUMES Linnet!

What a simply divine surprise.

We just can't stop bumping into each other, can we?

Hello, Simon.

You look a little tired, darling.

Wearing you out, is she?

I'd hang on tight, ducky.

He's a slippery fish.

I'll be seeing you.

- Are you all right?

LINNET: Yes, I'm fine.

Mademoiselle.

I hope my mother hasn't exhausted you.

Not at all.

I know how exhausting she can be.

Linnet Doyle's very beautiful, isn't she?

- Oui, mademoiselle.

- And very rich, too.

I've read about her in all the papers.

Seen her photograph everywhere.

But nothing can quite prepare you for how lovely she is in the flesh.

I don't think I've ever hated anyone so much on first sight.

But all that glitters... Not in her case.

Life is not fair, Monsieur Poirot.

Has life been unfair to you, mademoiselle?

You've met my mother.

- Monsieur Poirot?

- Hmm?

- I didn't mean to startle you.

- No, no.

But I am very anxious to speak with you.

- At your service, madame.

- You know who I am, perhaps?

Oh, yes, I know exactly who you are.

To come straight to the point, I am a victim of an intolerable persecution.

Persecution?

Perhaps if you could explain a little further...

It's really very simple.

Before I met my husband, he was engaged to a friend of mine, Jacqueline de Bellefort.

Now, they weren't remotely suited, and he broke it off.

She, I'm sorry to say, has taken it rather badly, and out of pure spite, has chosen to hound us wherever we go.

And you are here, I understand, on your honeymoon?

- That's right.

Now, she first appeared in Venice, and then in Brindisi, and then in Cairo, and now here.

She simply cannot be allowed to carry on like this.

But she is perfectly within her rights.

I'm sorry, did you not see the way she behaved just now?

Oui, but she did not actually threaten you or cause you any bodily harm.

No, evidently, she is very much aggrieved, madame.

If you're implying that I stole my friend's fiance, then I assure you, you're wrong.

She loved him, yes, but her feelings were not reciprocated.

Even before he met me, he knew he'd made a mistake.

But was there not a moment when you realised that you had a choice?

You have everything, but your friend, from what I understand, had him only.

Now, pardon my impertinence, madame, but I suspect you are feeling a little guilty.

Couldn't you at least try to reason with her?

Madame, I am on holiday.

I'm sure that we can come to some kind of arrangement.

No, madame...

..I am sure we could not.

HE SPEAKS IN FRENCH She did threaten to kill us, you know?

But then, she does have a tendency to be a little dramatic.

Oh.

JACQUELINE CRYING, SNIFFLING I suppose you saw the little floor show.

Oui, mademoiselle.

I'm afraid I rather lost my head.

They serve the most lethal martinis in this place.

Bury your dead, mademoiselle.

Has Mrs Doyle sent you?

Got you on her payroll already, has she?

She has approached me, that is true, but I declined.

You must look to the future.

SHE SCOFFS Oh, she'd love that.

I am thinking of you.

You have before you your whole life.

Simon is my life.

I could see that you loved him, but... SHE EXHALES We loved each other, Monsieur Poirot, and Linnet was my best friend.

How could she?

It takes two.

She knew exactly what she was doing, and he fell for it.

One of the richest women in England.

SHE SCOFFS No wonder it went to his head.

You know, we were even planning to come here for our honeymoon.

He loves me, Monsieur Poirot.

Even now?

No, not now.

Now, I think, he hates me.

SHE SNIFFLES Pretty, isn't it?

I'm quite a good shot, actually.

My father taught me.

I have to admit, it crossed my mind to use it... ..but, then, I thought, "No.

"Wouldn't it be much more fun "to just follow them wherever they went?

"And just when they thought it was safe to relax... "..there I'd be, the ghost at the banquet"?

You must stop this now.

And let them get away with it?

Do not open your heart to evil, mademoiselle.

If you do, there will be no turning back.

She has taken everything from me, Monsieur Poirot, and I want to hurt her... ..to put my gun against her head and gently pull the trigger.

Oh, God, I'm so afraid.

SHE GASPS What is it?

Over there.

Someone's listening.

POIROT: I cannot see.

I think they're gone.

I can't do what you ask, Monsieur Poirot.

Good morning.

Bonjour, Monsieur Doyle.

And how is madame?

Absolutely pooped.

Said she need a bit more shut-eye.

Gosh, I'm ravenous.

Isn't it marvellous they do an English breakfast here?

I can't stand all that brioche how-de-do.

Er, did you, er... Have you managed to speak to Jacqueline, Miss de Bellefort, at all?

- Oui.

Did you get her to see sense, or... No.

No, I'm afraid not.

But decent girls just don't do that sort of thing.

She's making a complete ass of herself and playing merry hell with Linnet's nerves.

And yours, monsieur?

Oh, I'd like to wring her neck.

Er, between ourselves, Monsieur, I've hatched a plan.

I'm letting it be known that Linnet and I are staying put for the next couple days but have, in fact, booked us on a Nile cruise leaving tomorrow morning, under assumed names, of course.

Of course.

Then we'll make it look like we're going on an excursion.

The maid will take charge of the luggage, and we'll hop aboard at the last minute, and Bob's your uncle.

By the time Jacqueline realises we won't be coming back.

It'll be... too late.

So... what do you think, good wheeze?

Well, she has the brains, monsieur.

We shall see.

I, myself, will also be on the cruise.

- Really?

- Oui.

Oh, not in any way, I hope, on our account.

No, no, no, no, no, not at all.

I make my plans well in advance.

That is the way to succeed in life, n'est-ce pas?

HE CHUCKLES Yes, I suppose it is.

POIROT: Who is that gentleman?

Oh, a chap called Pennington, Linnet's trustee.

Bumped into him by chance in Cairo.

I must say, he was knocked for six to find out she was married.

Care to join us?

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

But thank you very much.

Jolly nice chatting to you, anyway, but devilled kidneys beckon.

AIR HORN BLOWS INDISTINCT SHOUTING Isn't that our trunk?

Do you think it'll be all right?

Oh, wow!

Welcome.

Welcome aboard the SS Karnak.

Good morning.

- I'm so sorry.

- Do you mind?

Oh!

Oh, oh!

Don't let them touch the luggage.

They don't wash. God, it's a floating tomb!

Don't push me into the sea!

Oh!

Black Hole of Calcutta.

CORNELIA: Oh, isn't it beautiful?

Where's my other luggage?

I left it with the man.

Merci.

AIR HORN BLOWS POIROT: Mademoiselle.

There's something about this place, don't you think?

Something unsettling one can't quite resist?

Oui.

I had no idea they were coming.

LINNET: Oh, this is heaven, darling.

SHE CHUCKLES Darling!

I thought you were staying at the hotel.

Well, what a hoot.

I'm sure we'll have an absolute ball.

You refuse to help, Monsieur Poirot, and look what happens.

But this is not of my making.

How could she have known that we would be on the boat?

But if you are suggesting...

I'm suggesting nothing, monsieur, but I will tell you this.

Everybody hates me, OK?

I'm surrounded by enemies.

JAZZ MUSIC PLAYING The way some of them look!

After all we've done for them.

Ah, Monsieur Poirot.

Madame.

Monsieur Allerton.

Now, Mr Poirot, perhaps you can help me put a face to one or two of the names on the passenger list.

Dr Bessner, for example.

Over there, madame.

Oh, yes, the plump one, with the shaved head and the Bismarck moustache.

German, no doubt.

- No, Austrian, I believe.

Oh, bosh, whatever.

So by process of elimination, the rather glum-looking young gentleman must be Mr Ferguson.

Oui, a progressive thinker, so I understand.

Rabid Bolshie, more like.

Oh... Now, there's someone I'd throw my cap into the ring for.

Mother!

Oh, that ruthless jaw... and extremely rich, as are most people here.

My, she's ugly.

Like something you'd unearth on a dig.

Oh!

Isn't she lovely?

Madame.

She really knows how to make an entrance.

ENGINE THUMPING, WATER SLOSHES Good night, mademoiselle.

Good night, Monsieur Poirot.

You were surprised to find me here.

HE CHUCKLES I am more sorry than surprised.

You have chosen a path that is most dangerous, mademoiselle.

I doubt that you would turn back now, even if you could.

Oh, well.

One must follow one's star.

Love is not everything.

SHE CHUCKLES Oh, but it is.

It is.

You must know that, Monsieur Poirot.

Surely, you understand.

It is terrible, mademoiselle... ..all that I have missed in life.

Good night, Monsieur Poirot.

Good night.

Oh, Mademoiselle Robson, your companion, she does not come ashore?

You see, Cousin Marie has to be very, very careful about her health, but she was frightfully kind and said it would be all right for me to come.

Well, that is most gracious of her.

Oh, yes, she is.

It's simply wonderful of her to bring me on this trip.

I'm...

I'm such a lucky girl.

I'd always dreamed of travelling.

It's amazing.

Have you ever in your life...

Isn't it miraculous what man can create?

People died building this lot, you know?

So, you'd prefer it if there were no sphinxes, no beautiful tombs, no temple, hmm?

It's people that matter, not stones.

SHE SIGHS SHE CHUCKLES God, what were they actually for?

SIMON: I never really thought about it.

Perhaps they were their equivalent of garden gnomes.

LINNET CHUCKLES Nice try, Simon, but just a little wide of the mark.

The sphinx was, in fact, a monster from Greek mythology, with a woman's head.

See?

And a lioness' body.

And it said... Oh, don't you want to know?

It said riddles for travellers and killed those who got them wrong.

HE CLEARS THROAT Just sign right there.

And this is the lease agreement for the 5th Avenue apartment.

LINNET: Yes.

Yeah, just sign right there.

Yeah, it's perfectly in order.

I'm sure it is, but I like to read everything.

Gosh, I've never read a legal document in my life.

How very slipshod of you.

It's really quite straightforward, my dear.

It's just a lot of legal jargon.

I just sign on the dotted line.

HE LAUGHS Now, that could be quite risky, don't you think?

Darling, if you carry on at this rate, we'll be here all day.

Why don't we do this later?

LINNET: I think that's a very good idea.

It's getting frightfully hot up here.

MARIE: Where have you been?

I'm so sorry, Cousin Marie.

I couldn't find it.

Oh, you really are a hopeless creature!

I can be rather stupid, can't I?

MARIE: You most certainly can!

CORNELIA: Oh, you forgot your magazine.

What is the point of someone like that?

And that rich kid.

Signs a few documents, then has to rest because it's so frightfully hot.

And what sets you apart, Monsieur Ferguson?

I make people aware... ..and I certainly don't swot around like a fop.

Why are you actually here, Monsieur Poirot?

I'm on holiday.

And you?

I'm studying conditions.

Oh, Monsieur Poirot.

I'm so sorry.

It's all the motion.

I can't seem to find my sea legs.

It's all this pitching and lurching.

I think it would be best if you... - Where is that wretched girl?

- If you were to go back... Leaving me to suffer hour upon hour!

God, I hope we don't go down, Monsieur Poirot.

The thought of being nibbled by haddock and carp.

It is a little too dangerous out here, huh?

Yes.

You might be swept overboard.

And end my days in Neptune's arms... ..covered in carbuncles like an old wreck?

AIR HORN BLOWS No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

- Oh, uh, no, thank you.

- I already got one of those.

INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS No doubt it was a pleasant surprise, to run into Linnet Doyle and discover she was married.

Yes.

Yes, it was.

Well, actually, she did write me about it.

I had already left New York on the Carminic.

- Oh, the Carminic.

- Yes, yes.

Most fortunate, then, that you had with you all of her documents.

That's really none of your business.

But as you've mentioned it, I had them sent over after we met.

Now, if you'll excuse me.

Oh.

Don't fall down the hole.

The goddess Hathor is often depicted as the winged cow of creation who gave birth to the entire universe.

Oh, my.

She did keep herself busy.

And, occasionally, she can be mistaken for Isis, who was magically impregnated with the seed of her own son.

Oh, heavens to Betsy.

MARIE: Cornelia!

- Oh, erm, I'm sorry.

A nice, curvy girl.

This is what I like.

MARIE: You didn't bring my smelling salts!

LINNET: Oh, when are we gonna see some more pyramids?

I thought Egypt was full of them.

Vamoose.

No, you've had enough.

Go away, you little horrors.

Oh, what a wonderful way to be remembered.

Maybe I'll have one built on the grounds.

And you can be buried in it, too.

HE SCOFFS I say.

It'll certainly give the locals something to talk about.

STONE RUMBLING, HE SHOUTS Oh!

Oh, my God, Simon!

LINNET SOBBING - Madame, monsieur.

- Are you hurt?

Well, isn't that fascinating?

The goddess Hathor was a beautiful woman with the head of a cow.

Still, I suppose it's better than being a cow with the head of a beautiful woman.

This place is simply drenched in historical goodies like that.

- I thought that... - Yes, monsieur, I know.

I know what you thought.

Darling, are you sure you're all right?

Dear, what happened?

CLANGING Keep as still as you can, please.

Keep still!

CAMELS GRUNTING I need a drink.

These sands are so hot.

MAN: More water.

- Salaam alaikum.

- Bonjour.

MAN SPEAKING IN ARABIC Pardon.

Je ne comprends pas, Monsieur.

Had you fooled there, Poirot, you old dog.

- Oh.

RACE: How's tricks?

Colonel Race, I do not believe my eyes!

How are you?

Saddle sore, flea-ridden.

Otherwise, tip-top.

Oh, what a big surprise to see you here.

Well, I've been sorting out a few local difficulties.

Restless natives, the odd assassination, that sort of thing.

I say, that's pretty daring.

Oh, merci.

You know, you really must give me the name of your tailor.

Oui.

Where are you heading?

Back upriver with you.

With me?

Shouldn't you be on the government steamer?

Well, in normal circumstances, yes, but when I heard that my old chum Poirot was in the vicinity, I thought that would be much more fun.

Something always seems to happen around you.

I think it might have already started, mon ami.

- Oh, jolly good.

- Oui.

Madame Allerton, Madame Otterbourne, permit me to introduce a very old friend of mine, Colonel Race.

SHE SCOFFS Oh, that's where the queen was.

Thank you, partner.

Hope I get the cards this time.

Mademoiselle.

DR BESSNER: Ah, Miss Robson.

- Where have you been?

You're unusually breathless... Oh!

And blotchy.

Oh, dear.

I'm sorry, Cousin Marie.

I was just outside.

And what have you done with my velvet stole?

Oh, shall I see if it's in the cabin?

Oh, it couldn't possibly be in the cabin.

I had it in here just after dinner, and I haven't moved since.

Have I, Dr Bessner?

No, Miss Van Schuyler.

It was on that chair, and it's not now.

I thought you must have taken it.

Oh, I'm afraid I didn't.

It was a gift from Count Von Mecklemberg.

Miss Van Schuyler.

Miss Robson.

BOTH CHUCKLE Bonne nuit.

Poirot.

Ah, bonne nuit, mademoiselle.

You look tired, Monsieur Poirot.

Ah, oui, oui.

C'est vrai.

It must, I think, be the heat.

Bonne nuit.

BUZZER BUZZES ♪ Love is the sweetest thing ♪ ♪ What else on earth Could ever bring ♪ ♪ Such happiness to everything ♪ ♪ Love is The sweetest thing... ♪ Ah.

♪ Ba, ba, ba, ba, ba... ♪ Cornelia, come and join me.

Oh, well... Decided to make a night of it?

No, no, I just didn't wanna go to bed yet.

It's such a beautiful night.

It is lovely, isn't it?

Just perfect for a honeymoon.

Oh, two large gins.

- Oh, no, I couldn't.

- Oh, tish.

What's our score, Simon?

Sorry.

Er, we've made 120 below the line... JACQUELINE: Not bad-looking, don't you think?

Oh, well, I don't know about that.

He'd better watch out there are no man-eaters around here.

I'm so sorry.

I'm suddenly very tired.

And it is getting rather rowdy in here.

Yes, time to turn in.

Are you coming, Simon?

I'll, er...

I'll just finish my drink.

- Good evening.

- Good evening.

Oh, well.

But, my dear, you haven't had your nightcap yet.

No.

JACQUELINE: We girls must stick together.

Absolutely gasping.

Thank you.

To love, marriage.

Stuff like that.

SHE COUGHS Tell me all about yourself.

Oh, dear.

Well, there isn't that much to tell.

Uh...

I live at home in Connecticut, in a little place called Belfield, and it's my first trip to Europe, and I am just loving every minute of it.

Oh, go on.

I live with my mother, whose health is, unfortunately, a little delicate at the moment.

She sleeps very badly, and, uh, she eats only intermittently.

Some days, just a piece of fruit or two, and other days, she'll only touch cereals.

- Do go on.

- Yes, yes, we're all ears.

SHE YAWNS I must get to bed.

Don't.

I want to hear more.

There isn't any more.

Oh, please.

CORNELIA: Well, I love art, and, um, I go to classes and sculpt a little and throw pots.

Sounds a hoot.

Ring the bell, Simon.

It's after midnight.

- But I need a drink.

- You've had enough.

So what?

HE CLEARS THROAT - A bit of air.

- Yes, I think that's time.

Don't leave, Cornelia.

You see, Simon here is afraid.

Afraid that I might tell you the story of my life.

Go to bed, Jackie.

Afraid of a scene, are you?

Want me to behave decently, like you behaved to me?

Do you really think you can get away with this?

You're drunk.

I said I'd kill you, and, by God, I meant it.

Miss de Bellefort!

I'll shoot you like a dog, like the dirty dog you are!

HE SCREAMS Oh!

Mr Ferguson!

Mr Ferguson!

- Good God.

- I didn't...

Uh, Ferguson, someone's coming.

Tell them it's an accident.

It's nothing.

HE GROANS Nothing to worry about.

Charades, that's all.

A game, fun.

Ha-ha-ha.

Ah, yes, yes.

Well, I don't think anyone else would have heard it.

It sounded like a cork popping.

- Oh, what have I done?

- It'll be all right.

Get her out of here, for God's sake.

Back to her cabin.

And don't let her be left alone, whatever you do.

- Don't worry, Mr Doyle.

I'll stay with her.

Get Dr Bessner to take a look at it.

I'll kill myself.

Please, please don't let my wife get wind of this.

FERGUSON: This way.

Come on.

It's all right.

Come on.

JACQUELINE GASPING Oh, God!

What have I done?

No, no, no, no, no.

No, I must!

His poor leg, broken and bleeding.

Oh, God.

What if he bleeds to death?

Oh, Miss De Bellefort, I don't think he'll do that.

Let go of me!

I want to drown myself.

Calm down.

I'll get Dr Bessner.

JACQUELINE SOBBING POIROT SNORING SOFTLY Do you have any idea what time it is?

We need your help.

Something's happened.

HE SIGHS SIMON GASPING Gott im Himmel!

HE SCREAMS, GROANS IN PAIN It is bad.

The bone is fractured, and you have lost a lot of blood.

Herr Ferguson, we must take him to my cabin.

HE GROANS Gently.

SIMON GROANS Be careful, now.

DR BESSNER: That is the best I can do.

You have been a hero, my friend.

And now, I will give you something to help you sleep.

Has anyone told Frau Doyle?

No.

No.

It can wait till morning.

You... you mustn't blame Jackie.

It's my fault.

I behaved like a cad.

She didn't know what she was doing.

Ja, ja.

She might, uh, hurt herself.

Ah!

Someone ought to stay with her.

It's all right.

Miss Robson's with her.

Good.

Good.

The pistol.

You can't leave it lying around.

The stewards will find it.

I'll get it.

It's gone.

Are you sure?

Yes.

It dropped out of her hand.

She kicked it under a chair.

I saw her do it.

But it's not there.

Who could have taken it?

HE HUMS KNOCK ON DOOR Entrez.

Ah, my dear colonel.

What a beautiful morning, n'est-ce pas?

I'm afraid someone's been shot.

- Who?

- Linnet Doyle.

Last night.

Shot through the head.

DR BESSNER: The pistol was held close against her head.

See where the skin is scorched?

- Oui.

DR BESSNER: There was no struggle.

She was shot in her sleep.

RACE: Time of death?

She has certainly been dead six hours and probably not longer than eight.

RACE: Between twelve and two?

May I ask, Colonel, with what authority you make these enquiries?

The cruise manager has asked me to take matters in hand until we reach port.

I have some slight official standing, you see.

We are all at the disposal of the colonel.

RACE: Yes, quite.

Now, what's all that about?

POIROT: What, this?

It seems very simple, does it not?

It would appear that, as she is dying, she writes with her finger dipped into her own blood the initial of the name of the murderer.

Jacqueline de Bellefort... ..the young lady who, less than a week ago, declared to me that, "I would like nothing better "than to place my gun against her head "and gently pull the trigger."

So, I suppose her husband's next door.

At the moment, he is in my cabin, asleep.

He spent the night in your cabin, Dr Bessner?

Ja.

Oh, I see you have not heard.

Mr Doyle was also shot last night.

- What?

- In the leg.

Is there anyone else we should know about?

That is all.

It seems that Mademoiselle de Bellefort worked herself up, helped by a few drinks, and finally took a shot at him.

The poor man is completely immobilised.

Then she went along to Linnet Doyle's cabin and shot her, as well.

No, no, no, no, no.

That was not possible.

You see, she was in an hysterical state, and Doyle was most concerned she should not harm herself.

So Miss Robson stayed with her all night.

Who discovered the crime?

It was their maid, apparently.

Louise Bourget.

Colonel, my office is ready for you, sir.

Thank you.

If you could be as discreet as possible... Well, that's our speciality, old chap.

Yes, sir.

Of course.

Now we need to speak to Doyle.

You say he's still asleep?

Um, I gave him a very strong opiate.

I would suggest I have my breakfast, and then I will see if he is ready to wake.

Thank you, Doctor.

Colonel.

Hmm.

So at midnight, Madame Doyle was alive and well.

Yes, I saw her to her cabin.

Who was remaining in the lounge?

Doyle, Miss De Bellefort, Miss Robson, and myself.

And what were you all doing?

Oh, Mr Ferguson was reading a magazine.

And I'd got some embroidery, and Miss De Bellefort was...

Drinking.

- Yes.

- Like a fish.

And I tried to leave once or twice, but she made me stay.

And I was getting very uncomfortable.

And so was Mr Ferguson, who went out on deck.

It was pretty stuffy in there.

CORNELIA: Then Miss De Bellefort pulled out a pistol and shot Mr Doyle in the leg.

And I called for Mr Ferguson, and Mr Doyle said not to make a fuss.

And then one of the stewards came, and Mr Ferguson told him it was all sort of a game.

And then Miss De Bellefort started to cry.

So we took her back to her cabin, and I stayed with her while Mr Ferguson got Dr Bessner.

- At what time was this?

- Mercy, I don't know.

About twenty past twelve, because it was half-past when I finally turned in.

And you are certain that Mademoiselle De Bellefort did not leave the cabin?

- Positive.

So she couldn't have shot Mrs Doyle before... say, twenty past twelve.

Hmm.

How long did you remain with her, that Mademoiselle Robson?

Oh, I was with her all night.

She never woke once.

I think it was probably the drink.

Bien.

So far, she has the alibi parfait.

Monsieur Doyle, I understand, was most anxious that she should not be left alone.

Yes, he was worried that she might do something stupid.

- Hmm.

She even said that she wanted to kill herself.

And the pistol... what happened to that?

- She dropped it.

- And kicked it under a chair.

But when I went to get it, it, uh... it had gone.

Gone?

Now we begin to arrive.

You are quite certain that Mademoiselle de Bellefort did not recover it before she left the lounge?

- Yes.

- Absolutely.

She had no opportunity of returning to retrieve it.

So how long was it between the time that you and Dr Bessner carried Monsieur Doyle out of the cabin and when you returned to look for the pistol?

- Five minutes?

- Five minutes.

And in that five minutes, someone removed the pistol, and that someone was not Jacqueline de Bellefort.

And we may assume that this person had overheard or seen something of the events preceding.

How do you make that out?

Because you told to us that the pistol, it was out of sight, so it could hardly be discovered by accident.

Well, I saw no-one else on deck before the shot was fired.

On which side were you, Monsieur?

Starboard, I think.

So, if anyone was on the port side, you could not have seen them.

No, I suppose not.

POIROT: Did anyone hear the shot, apart from the steward?

I doubt it.

It sounded like a cork popping, anyway.

Did you hear anything at all after retiring?

I think I heard a kind of splash just as I was dropping off.

What time would that be?

What's French for "the third degree"?

Just answer the question.

One o'clock.

Five till, five past.

Who knows?

Now, will that be all?

Hmm?

Oh, yes.

Thank you, monsieur, for your help.

Oh, by the way... Who exactly are you?

What a damfool question.

Heat getting too much for you, is it?

No.

But thank you for your concern.

What a frightfully rude young man.

Oh, one thing more, mademoiselle.

Had you ever met Madame Doyle before this trip?

No.

Never.

- Merci.

- Good day.

I didn't do it.

You must believe me.

I was in such a state I could've killed Simon, but I didn't do the other.

There, there.

We know, mademoiselle.

- You do?

- Oh, yes.

It is proved, mon enfant, it was not you.

SHE EXHALES SHARPLY Oh!

Thank God for that.

So, who was it?

Well, that is where we need help.

I can't think of anyone who wanted her dead except for me.

I wanted her dead.

And she is dead.

And she died just like I said.

Oui.

Shot through the head.

You see, I was right.

There was someone listening that night at the hotel.

Who could he have been?

Are you certain it was a man?

No, I just... assumed.

KNOCK ON DOOR Entrez.

Doyle is ready to see you.

JACQUELINE: Is he all right?

Of course, he is not all right.

You shot him.

He's not going to die, is he?

He has the constitution of a peasant.

We will get him to civilisation where he will have an X-ray and proper treatment.

SHE SIGHS We now know that is was not Jacqueline de Bellefort who shot your wife.

So can you give to us any idea who you think it might have been?

Did she have any enemies or know one who bore against her a grudge?

Uh, you see, Monsieur Doyle... ..on the first day of the cruise, I had a little encounter with your wife.

She was upset.

She said that everybody... Everybody, mark you, hated her and that she was surrounded by enemies.

Now, she was exaggerating, but... She did mean more than one person.

There was a name on the passenger list.

Sir, what... what name was that?

She didn't actually tell me.

You see, her father played the markets.

Several people got it in the neck.

Rolling in it one day, and in the gutter the next.

There's... someone on board whose father was one of those that had it in for Linnet's old man.

Oh!

She said how awful it was, everyone hating her without even knowing her.

She did not mention a name?

INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS SHOUTING IN FOREIGN LANGUAGE Tell me, Mademoiselle Bourget, what hour was it when you last saw alive your mistress?

Sometime after midnight, monsieur.

POIROT: And what then?

Then I went to my cabin, monsieur.

You heard or saw nothing?

LOUISE: How could I?

That is for you to say, mademoiselle.

My cabin is on the deck below on the other side.

It is not possible I should hear anything, unless I could not sleep and came back up.

Then, perhaps, I see something.

This monster enter or leave my mistress's cabin.

But as it is, monsieur, I implore you.

You see how it is?

What can I say?

- Calm down, for heaven's sake!

- Shh.

You'll be all right.

I'll look after you.

Nobody's accusing you of anything.

Monsieur is very good.

Do you know anyone who had a grudge against your mistress?

No, monsieur.

Everybody loved her.

Tell me, Monsieur Doyle, did your wife have with her on this cruise any jewellery that was valuable?

- Her pearls.

Do you know anything about these pearls, mademoiselle?

She was wearing them last night.

Did you see them when she went to bed?

Yes, monsieur.

POIROT: Where did she put them?

- On her bedside table.

Were they there this morning?

I did not see, because when I come into her room, the only thing I notice is madame dead!

Eh bien, mademoiselle, I did see, and there were no pearls on her bedside table this morning.

Merci.

I think I heard a splash and someone running.

Or was it the other way about?

Do you know what time that was?

An hour after I went to bed.

Or maybe more.

I can't be sure.

Had you ever met Madame Doyle before?

No, but I'd heard a lot about her through a relative of ours, Joanna Southwood.

And through Tim, of course... who had met her.

One more question, madame.

Uh, did your family ever suffer financially through the dealings of the father of Madame Doyle?

Oh, no.

Our family finances have never suffered, except by dwindling.

Our poverty has never been melodramatic.

I was woken by lots of different voices, then somebody running along the deck, then a splash.

You're sure it was not a shot that you heard?

Well, it might have been.

I did hear a cork pop.

Perhaps that was the shot and I imagined the splash.

You know, sort of thought association.

Cork popping, liquid splashing.

And after that?

Oblivion.

SHOUTING IN FOREIGN LANGUAGE I heard somebody on deck and then a splash.

Do you know what time this was?

Ten after one.

I looked in my clock.

You did not hear a shot?

No, I did not.

Have you any idea what might have caused the splash?

- Oh, yes.

- You do?

I know exactly what it was.

I went to the door of my cabin.

The daughter of that hideous woman in the turban was leaning over the rail.

She'd just dropped something into the water.

RACE: You quite sure?

Why else would I have said it?

KNOCK ON DOOR Yes?

DOOR OPENS We found it, Colonel.

Good show.

Is this the gun you saw at the hotel?

POIROT: Yes, it is.

RACE: Two shots fired.

This must be the weapon.

What about my stole?

Look at the state of it!

Where did you last see this?

I had it in the lounge yesterday evening.

Please, do observe.

Helas.

- Oh!

So the murderer must have used this as a silencer.

The impertinence!

Erm, Miss Van Schuyler, would you excuse us, please?

Count Von Mecklemberg will be most displeased.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!

It does not make sense!

If the murderer wishes us to believe that Jacqueline de Bellefort was the culprit, why throw the revolver, the evidence that is most damning of all, into the River Nile?

I told you.

I never left my cabin.

POIROT: That is strange, mademoiselle, because someone said they saw you.

- Who?

- Mademoiselle Van Schuyler.

She looked out of her cabin and saw you throw something over the side.

And what else does she claim to have seen?

Nothing.

But she heard something.

Someone moving about the cabin of Madame Doyle.

Of course, mademoiselle, there might be a reason that is perfectly innocent for throwing something overboard, but, then again... Is that what she was killed with?

Oui, mademoiselle.

Mm.

And you think that I might have done it?

Mademoiselle Van Schuyler is prepared to swear that she saw you quite clearly in the moonlight.

It wasn't me.

I was dead to the world, like poor Madame Doyle is now, in fact.

A crime passionnel, wouldn't you say, Monsieur Poirot?

That girl Jacqueline, half Latin, you know, creeping along the deck, pistol at full cock.

Or Mr Doyle, deranged by desire, lust pumping through his veins.

Or perhaps Miss Robson, the repressed virgin.

tragically plain, driven to distraction by the proximity of honeymoon passion.

POIROT: Tell me, Monsieur Pennington, are you aware of anyone who might have wished to see Madame Doyle dead?

Well, there's that madame, uh... That Miss De Bellefort girl.

Mm-hm.

Now, if looks could kill...

Thank you for that, monsieur.

You may perhaps also recall that Madame Doyle... she had a very near escape at the Temple of Hathor.

Well, I did hear about that...

HE COUGHS But I was inside the temple at the time.

Mr Doyle mentioned there was someone on board who bore a grudge against her family.

Do you know who that could be?

PENNINGTON: I'm afraid I don't.

RACE: No business dealings of her father that might have resulted in ruin for some rival?

Not that I am aware of, no.

Hmm.

INDISTINCT SHOUTING So, why should the murderer take the stole before the event?

After all, nobody knew that Mademoiselle De Bellefort and Monsieur Doyle were going to, what, have a scene.

Perhaps he found it when he went to get the pistol.

Why was it not discovered when the search for it was made?

No, no, my friend.

It makes no sense.

Well, don't be downhearted.

We'll get to the bottom of it.

Oh, I know I will.

DOOR UNLOCKS - Ah.

- Oh.

Doyle has asked if he may see Mademoiselle De Bellefort.

Oui.

I will bring her to him.

- Very good.

- Bon.

Oh.

Did you know that Monsieur Pennington told to us a lie?

- Did he?

He said that he was in the temple when the statue head fell.

He was not.

I had just come from there myself.

Come in.

DOOR OPENS I thought you might be worrying, and I wanted you to know that it's all right.

I've behaved absolutely rotten to you.

JACQUELINE SOBBING I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

SHE SNIFFLES SALOME: How could you do this to me?

How could you?

You know I need it!

ROSALIE: It's for your own good, Mother.

SALOME: Ungrateful wretch!

You have no idea how I'm suffering!

ROSALIE: You never let me forget!

SHE BREATHES HEAVILY Mademoiselle, may I have a few words?

I will not beat about the bushes, but your mother, she drinks, n'est-ce pas?

There's no need for you to talk.

When I first met you, I saw at once that you were protecting her from something, and very soon I discovered what that something was.

The secret drinker with the secret cunning of the drunkard with a secret supply hidden away.

I believe that yesterday you discovered her supply, and while your mother was sound asleep, you threw overboard the bottles.

I am right, am I not?

It all began when her book stopped selling, and it hurt her dreadfully.

She made a complete fool of herself.

It was awful.

I had to keep my eye on her all the time, and she began to hate me.

Pauvre petite.

Oh, don't pity me, for God's sake.

I know people think I'm stuck up and bad-tempered, but the truth is, I've forgotten how to be nice.

You won't tell anyone, will you?

No.

But now I want you to tell to me that which I need to know.

At what time did you throw overboard your bottles?

At ten minutes after one, perhaps?

About that.

Yes.

Now, as I have already told you, Mademoiselle Van Schuyler saw you from her cabin door.

Now, tell me, did you see her?

No, I didn't.

I looked along the deck, out to the river.

But did you see anyone when you looked along the deck, anyone at all?

No.

I saw nobody.

Merci.

Stolen?

I'm afraid that is so, madame.

Those beautiful pearls.

Remember that party at the Portarlingtons when Lady Huber's diamonds were stolen?

The police gave you all quite a grilling.

Poor child.

She looks dreadfully unhappy.

Well, she shouldn't go around shooting people.

I mean, who does she think she is, Annie Oakley?

The French have blood on their hands.

We have blood on our hands.

And one day, we will pay for it dearly, I tell you.

Yeah, and I tell you to shut up and eat.

Why couldn't you wait for me?

I have something to do.

I remember reading about the diamonds of Lady Huber.

Yes, well, as usual, Mother's got the whole thing hopelessly wrong.

I wasn't there when they were actually stolen, just when it was discovered that the old bag was wearing paste around her fat neck.

Some say... she was in on it herself.

Joanna, no doubt.

Joanna wasn't there, Mother.

If I may have your attention.

GLASS CLINKS It's come to our notice that a valuable string of pearls belonging to the late Mrs Doyle has gone missing.

What?

RACE: A search of the boat is about to take place.

I'd be grateful if you would all remain here until it's completed.

And thereafter, I'd be most grateful if you would all submit yourselves to a search.

SALOME: Outrageous!

- Please excuse me.

INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS Sir, there is a lady who says it is urgent she should speak with you.

Bring her in.

Please.

- Miss Robson.

- Mademoiselle.

What can we do for you?

You took them?

No, I didn't.

Cousin Marie did.

Mademoiselle Van Schuyler?

She can't help it.

It's her little... idiosyncrasy.

That's why I'm here, to keep an eye on her.

Where did you find them?

They were in her stockings this morning.

That's where she usually hides things.

I knew whose they were, of course, so I went along to return them, but there was a steward on guard who told me about the murder.

I've been in an absolute state all morning.

The Van Schuylers, you see, are very particular.

I mean, it would never do if this got into the papers.

But it won't, will it?

RACE: Well, that depends, Miss Robson.

No, no, no, no, no.

We shall do our very best for you, of course, mademoiselle.

- Thank you so much.

- Please.

Thank you, monsieur.

Poirot?

Imitation, my friend.

Now we begin our search for the real thing.

RACE: I doubt we'll find them in Mrs Doyle's own cabin.

POIROT: One never knows what one might find, Colonel.

POIROT SNIFFING Das Kapital.

Comrade Ferguson's a Bolshie.

I always knew there was something fishy about the chap.

POIROT: A Bolshie is not all that he is.

Monsieur Allerton, it would seem, is most religious.

Oh, the glue.

Now, what would he want with this, I wonder?

Well, I don't know.

POIROT: Mr Pennington.

SS Normandie.

Poirot.

DOOR OPENS The passengers have been searched, sirs.

And?

Nothing, except for Miss Rosalie Otterbourne.

There was a small revolver in her handbag.

So, how did she react?

Ah, she did not notice.

I have my back turned to her at the time.

- Ah.

And still there is one person we have not searched.

Who's that?

The maid, Louise Bourget.

We cannot find her anywhere.

DR BESSNER: Dead not more than an hour.

Instantaneous.

Stabbed through the heart.

POIROT: With what?

Something like this.

I suppose none of your knives are missing.

You think I'd kill a miserable, little femme de chambre?

No, no.

I just wondered.

All my knives are present and correct.

RACE: Good, good.

Now, if you will excuse me... She was holding this.

It's the corner of a 1,000 franc note.

And what did she say when we questioned her?

"It is not possible that I should hear anything "unless I could not sleep and came back up.

"Then, perhaps, I see something "this monster enter or leave my mistress's cabin."

And that is exactly what happened.

She did return to the top deck.

She did see someone enter or leave the cabin.

- Blackmail?

- Yes, so the murderer enters, gives to her the money, and while she is counting it... WOMEN LAUGHING KNOCKING ON DOOR You talk of the scandal mademoiselle, eh?

We were just comparing lipsticks.

What's wrong, Monsieur Poirot?

The maid of Madame Doyle, she has been killed.

- Louise?

She saw something that she was not meant to see.

What?

Someone enter or leave the cabin of Madame Doyle last night.

Did she say who?

Mademoiselle Jacqueline, if you please, do excuse us.

Oh.

Oh, of course.

Uh...

Thank you.

POIROT: Why did you not tell to me the truth?

- I have.

- No.

You did not tell me everything that you saw last night and you did not tell to me that you have in your handbag the little revolver.

- I don't.

- Tsk.

CLATTERING RUSTLING - I want the truth.

- And what is the truth?

That last night you saw someone come out of the cabin of Linnet Doyle.

I am right, am I not, mademoiselle?

I've told you.

I saw no-one!

WOMAN SOBBING You're not thinking of jumping in, are you, old chap?

Why would I want to do that?

Just when things begin to fall into place?

Just a few questions.

That is all, Doctor.

I return in three minutes.

Then, positively, you go.

Merci.

I will not detain you for long, Monsieur Doyle.

So, what is it?

SALOME: Monsieur Poirot!

Monsieur Poirot!

Oh, Monsieur Poirot!

I must speak with you.

Excuse me.

I have vital information.

I know who killed Linnet Doyle.

What?

Yes, and I have evidence to prove it.

- S'il vous plait, madame.

- Merci.

My theories about primeval urges are completely vindicated.

You will agree that whoever killed Louise... What's-her-name, also killed Linnet Doyle?

I saw the person with my own eyes.

You saw the person who killed my wife?

SALOME: It was just before lunch.

I had an arrangement with one of the ship's personnel to... get me something I needed.

We were to meet on the lower deck.

As I walked along, a cabin door opened, and this girl, Louise... "Budget"?

Budget.

Popped her head out.

I think she was expecting someone.

But when she saw it was me, she darted back inside.

I thought nothing of it, of course, went along, got the... from the man, and started back.

Just as I did, I saw someone knock on... SHE SIGHS ..the maid's door and go inside.

Yes?

SHE LAUGHS Yes!

RACE: But who was it?

Oh, didn't I say?

- It was... - Oui?

POIROT: Oh!

What the devil was that?

POIROT: Did you see anyone?

- No.

DOOR OPENS FERGUSON: That's Pennington's gun.

I saw him cleaning it the other day.

FOOTSTEPS APPROACH How do you account for your gun being used?

I have no idea.

Was anybody aware that you had one?

- I made no secret of it.

- Tell me, Monsieur Pennington, Linnet Doyle was not yet of age when she married, yes?

She would have turned 21 next July.

Which is when she would have taken control of her fortune.

According to her father's will, Linnet was to take over the dough when she turned 21 or when she married.

Did this marriage that was so sudden cause you any consternation?

- Why should it?

Perhaps because her affairs might not be in the perfect order they should be, which she would have noticed when she took control on her return to England.

And the prospect so alarmed you, did it not, that you rushed over and arranged a meeting that was apparently fortuitous in Cairo.

I did not!

Her letter arrived the day after I sailed on the Carminic.

Then why on your luggage do you have only the labels of the Normandie, which sailed two days later?

No, Monsieur Pennington.

It is the easiest thing in the world to check the lists of passengers.

It is my belief that you came over here to find some way out of the mess you were in and endeavoured, without success, to obtain the signature of Madame Doyle to certain documents, that while you were on the roof of the Temple Hathor, you dislodged a statue head, which fell very close to its object.

This is crazy!

And that a similar opportunity presented itself on your return journey home.

Her death would almost certainly be ascribed to somebody else, not forgetting the fact, irrefutable, that it was your gun that was used to shoot and kill a woman who was about to reveal the identity of the murderer.

Three murders, Monsieur Pennington.

You may rest assured that the authorities will conduct an investigation that is most searching into the condition of the estate of Madame Doyle.

All right!

It's because of this goddamn slump.

I was hoping, with a bit of luck, that I would have straightened everything out by the time she took control.

And the statue head was what, an opportunity too tempting?

That was an accident!

I tripped over my golf club!

HE COUGHS And I didn't kill her, either!

You hear me?

You're not gonna pin that on me, and you never will.

A spoilt brat, a domestic parasite, and drunken old bag.

Who cares whether they're dead or not?

You really are the rudest man.

It's the future that matters, woman, not the past.

Have you ever considered for a single second that somebody somewhere might be grieving for that poor maid or how distraught Rosalie might be?

And as for Linnet Doyle, well, she was just so beautiful.

Huh.

Unbelievable, isn't it?

Did you know that Cornelia's father was practically ruined by Linnet's old man, and all she can say is how beautiful she was.

Incredible.

I thought you said it was the future that mattered, not the past.

Touche.

Will you marry me?

What?

It goes against all my principles, I know, but I really think you should.

So how about it?

It's a disgusting idea.

Is that a no?

You are opinionated, unreliable, scruffy, unpleasant, and utterly, utterly, irritating.

But apart from that... SHE SIGHS You see?

DOOR CLOSES Definitely smitten, I say.

I think I'll have a word with the old crow.

Quite a field day for you, isn't it?

Everyone dropping like flies.

Good afternoon.

To come straight to the point, I want to marry your cousin.

In fact, I've already asked her.

Unfortunately, she declined.

But don't worry.

I'll keep on at her until she says yes.

I can assure you, sir, I shall take steps to see that she is not subjected to any such persecution.

What exactly do you have against me?

I'm not that bad, you know?

Anatomically, everything is in the right place, in perfect working order, and I'm really quite bright, so, what's the problem?

- Social position, Mr Ferguson.

- Oh, I see.

Cornelia, come here.

Have you been behaving wantonly with this young man?

No!

No, of course not.

Your cousin says that I'm not good enough for you.

In the natural order of things, she thinks that I'm the equivalent of pond life.

Is that how you see me?

- It's not that.

It's...

It's... SHE SIGHS Yes?

Oh.

Ah.

- Isn't she wonderful?

- Well... Rather eccentric, I'm afraid, like most of his family.

He refuses to use his title because of his ideas progressive.

Title?

Oui.

Lord Dolish.

You did not know?

Oh, he is... How do you say it?

Rolling in money, of course, but he became a Communist at Oxford.

Lord Dolish?

I recognised him from a picture in the paper, and then I discovered his signet ring with the Dolish coat of arms on it.

There can be no doubt, I assure you.

Oh, I am very much obliged to you, Monsieur Poirot.

Hmm.

Ah, Monsieur Allerton, I would like very much to have a little word with you.

What can I do for you?

There's nothing you can do for me, Monsieur, but to sit and to listen.

Right, well, I'm very good at that.

You can rely on me to say, "Ooh, ah" at all the right moments.

"Ooh, ah" will do very nicely.

Thank you.

Merci.

So, to begin...

Your friendship with your cousin Joanna Southwood.

For the past three years... ..Scotland Yard has been preoccupied with a number of jewel robberies.

And, you know, the method has been always exactly the same.

Oui.

The substitution of the original with an imitation.

Attention soon focused on Mademoiselle Southwood.

You see, every one of the victims had been either a friend or an acquaintance.

It also became clear that she did not make the substitution herself.

No, no, no.

She would have a jeweller make her a copy, and then the substitution would be made by someone else.

But the identity of this person has remained a mystery.

Ooh, ah.

POIROT: Oui.

But over the past few days, certain facts have emerged that have been most helpful.

Your attendance at the house party when one such robbery occurred, your obvious resentment of my presence here, and the discovery that the pearls belonging to Linnet Doyle were missing.

But what do I find?

Ah.

I find that the pearls that were stolen and returned were imitation, previously substituted for the real thing.

It would have been easy for Mademoiselle Southwood to have found an opportunity of examining the pearls of her friend and to have made a copy.

And it was then just a question of waiting for the right moment for you to make the substitution.

Eh bien, you learnt that Linnet Doyle was to honeymoon in Egypt, so parfait, uh?

'Mademoiselle Southwood sends to you the imitation, 'concealed, I suggest, in a parcel of books.

'You then bide your time.

'Finally, you make the substitution, 'return to your cabin, 'and conceal them by glueing them into a rosary.'

Unfortunately for you, the night you chose to do the deed was the same night that Linnet Doyle was murdered.

But even more unfortunately was the fact that someone saw you leave her cabin.

"Ooh, ah," would you not say, Monsieur Allerton?

Who saw me?

Mademoiselle Rosalie Otterbourne.

- And she told you?

- No.

In fact, when I taxed her with it, she lied.

Why?

Mm.

Perhaps because she thought the man she saw... was the murderer.

Well, surely you're not thinking that... Was Madame Doyle alive or dead when you stole the pearls?

I don't know.

I... really don't know.

Could you hear her breathing?

I couldn't say.

Er... Now, listen, you young twerp, Monsieur Poirot here can build a case against you that's so rock-solid that you'll be hanging from some gallows before you can even draw breath to say "foul".

I didn't murder anyone.

I admit I substituted the pearls, but murder, no.

I swear.

It would make a very good case, though, I assure you.

I suggest that when I examine the rosary, I will find nothing there, and that since Mademoiselle Otterbourne still persists on asserting that she saw no-one on the deck last night, for this particular theft, there is no case against you.

The pearls were taken by a kleptomaniac who has since returned them.

STUTTERS: I don't know what to say, Mr P. Under the circumstances, Mr A...

..I would suggest that this is no bad thing.

So, that's that.

Now all I have to do is return the real thing to Mr Poirot.

Why didn't you say you'd seen me?

I thought they might suspect you.

Did you suspect me?

SHE CHUCKLES No.

I knew you couldn't kill anyone.

A miserable, little thief.

That's all I am.

Barking up the wrong tree, I'm afraid.

DOOR OPENS Timothy!

POIROT: Mademoiselle, messieurs, I am pleased to inform you that the picture is finally complete.

Eh bien, where to begin, huh?

You know, our big mistake, and unbelievable that I should go along with it, was to suppose that this crime was spontaneous.

Not so, no.

It was worked out meticulously in every detail.

Even to the drugging of the bottle of wine of Hercule Poirot.

I was put to sleep so that there should be no possibility of my participating in the events of the night.

So nothing easier than to place a narcotic into my bottle of wine, which stands on the table in the dining room.

'And my sleepiness... 'Eh bien, it had been a hot day.'

The drugging of the bottle of wine would have had to take place before dinner at 7:30.

But, you know, even then, premeditation was very far from my mind.

The first blow to our "preconceived" idea was when the revolver was recovered from the River Nile.

'If we had been correct, 'this revolver would never have been thrown overboard.

'Also the stole, which was wrapped around the pistol, 'showed signs that it had been fired through.

'But the bullet wound showed signs of scorching, 'and that is to say 'the revolver had been placed against her head.'

And we knew that the stole was not used in the shooting of you, Monsieur Doyle, because there are two witnesses to prove it.

Therefore, a third shot must have been fired about which we knew nothing.

Next came the two bottles of nail polish.

'Madame Doyle always painted her nails cardinal, 'a red colour that was deep and dark.

'The other bottle was rose, a shade of pink.

'But the few drops that were remaining 'were of bright red.

'And instead of the usual odour of pear drops, 'this bottle smelled of ink.

'This linked it with the handkerchief 'that was also stained bright red 'and wrapped around the revolver.'

Then an event occurred which rendered all that superfluous.

'When I asked Louise Bourget, the maid, 'if she had seen anything, she said...' It is not possible I should hear anything...

Unless...

..I could not sleep and came back up.

Then, perhaps, I see something.

This monster enter or leave my mistress's cabin.

Yes, but why say this to us?

If she knew who was the murderer, why not tell it to us... ..or hold her tongue... ..and demand money from the guilty person?

But she does neither.

Why?

There can only be one reason.

Because she was hinting to the murderer.

Therefore, the murderer must have been present.

Are you accusing me?

But why would you kill her, Dr Bessner?

And you, Monsieur Doyle, there are witnesses to swear that you did not leave the lounge before the quarrel.

Then you were wounded in the leg, making it physically impossible.

So, no, Dr Bessner must be the guilty one.

But why should Louise the maid be hinting to Dr Bessner?

She could have spoken to him anytime she wanted.

So, no, there was one person and one person only who corresponded to her... necessity.

Simon Doyle.

I say.

HE CHUCKLES NERVOUSLY Poppycock.

Absolute poppycock.

POIROT: You were being attended to constantly.

She might not get another chance.

Monsieur, I implore you.

You see how it is?

What can I say?

Calm down, for heaven's sake!

You'll be all right.

I'll look after you.

And that was the assurance that she wanted, and she got it.

Impossible.

The man could not move.

Exactly.

This is an outrage.

But what had actually been seen?

Shoot you like a dog, like the dirty dog you are!

CORNELIA SCREAMS Mr Ferguson!

Mr Ferguson!

SIMON GROANING I didn't mean... And what then?

Get her out of here, for God's sake.

Back to her cabin.

Don't let her be left alone, whatever you do.

Oh, don't worry, Mr Doyle.

I'll stay with her.

Get Dr Bessner... POIROT: 'But all of these cabins were on the port side.'

The cabin of your wife, Monsieur Doyle, it was on the starboard side.

So this was your only chance, and a few minutes is all that you needed.

You see, what had been witnessed was not what actually happened.

GUNSHOT HE BREATHES HEAVILY MUFFLED GUNSHOT, HE GROANS POIROT: Monsieur Allerton heard a pop, he heard a splash, and he heard something else.

The footsteps of someone running past his door.

Now, who could possibly be running on the starboard side?

No-one, except Simon Doyle.

You cooked all that up yourself?

Well, it's all nonsense.

Downright slander!

As I have said, it looked as if this crime could have been committed on the spur of the moment, but, no, no, it was not.

It was not accident that you had in your pocket the red ink.

It was not accident that the revolver was kicked under the chair.

- Jacqueline?

- Oui.

Who gives to Mr Doyle his alibi?

The shooting of him by Jacqueline.

Who gives to Jacqueline hers?

You, Mademoiselle Robson, staying with her all night at his insistence.

Oh, the two halves of the murder, with all the qualities required.

The cool, resourceful planning of Jacqueline, and, oh, the man of action to carry it out.

They had been lovers, realise that they were still lovers, and it all makes sense.

POIROT CHUCKLES But then your plan goes horribly wrong, does it not, Monsieur Doyle?

For Louise, the maid, sees you and hints to you that she requires the money for hushing her up.

You manage to inform Jacqueline, tell to her where Dr Bessner keeps his scalpels.

LOUISE SCREAMS POIROT: 'And, hey, presto.

'She returns the scalpel, 'hurries into lunch, rather late and breathless.

'But, still, all is not well.

'Madame Otterbourne saw her, rushes in to tell us.

'You raised your voice to her.'

You saw the person who killed my wife?

POIROT: ' "Nerves," I thought.

But the door was open, 'and you were hinting of the danger 'to your partner in crime.

'She acted like lightning.

'She remembered 'that Monsieur Pennington had in his cabin a gun.

'Crept up behind the curtain here and...' GUNSHOT '..another problem solved.'

I am correct, am I not, Monsieur Doyle?

What happened to the first bullet fired by the girl?

What is the matter, Monsieur Doyle?

Has the cat got you by the tongue?

It went into the settee.

'You removed it and threw it out of the window.

'You also carried with you a spare cartridge 'to make it look as if two bullets had been fired.'

Did you not, Monsieur Doyle?

A crime that was almost parfait.

You kill your wife, you inherit her money, and, in due course, marry your true love.

It seems as if you had thought of everything, Monsieur Doyle, except for one thing.

Hercule Poirot.

HE SOBS I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Oh, there, there, Monsieur Doyle.

The executioner here... ..is very efficient.

The mechanism, it works like clockwork... As a rule.

I love him to death.

I can't help it.

As they say, love makes you do things.

We worked everything out so carefully.

SHE CHUCKLES But even then, he went and wrote a "J" on the wall in her blood.

Such a stupid thing, but absolutely typical.

Still, we got away with it.

Until Louise Bourget, how do you say... put a spanner in the works.

Yes, I can't believe I did that.

And then Madame Otterbourne.

It's so dreadfully easy killing people, Monsieur Poirot.

You begin to feel that it doesn't matter.

That evening in the grounds of the hotel when you said that you saw someone... ..there was no person there, was there?

Just a little red herring to keep you on your toes.

Do you remember when I said I must follow my star?

It's finally burnt out, hasn't it?

Monsieur Pennington, you must be happy to return home.

I'm not sure I've got a home to go to.

But thanks for asking.

- I'm sure he'll get by.

- Oui.

Mademoiselle.

Monsieur Poirot, wonderful news.

I've decided to get married.

Oh, news that is most wonderful, indeed, mademoiselle.

Who is the lucky man?

- Dr Bessner.

- Bessner?

He asked me last night.

He's so kind, and he says I can help him in his work.

He's going to teach me all about neuroses.

May I offer you my congratulations, mademoiselle?

Thank you.

POIROT: Have you told this news to your cousin?

Oh, yes.

She's absolutely thrilled.

And, Dr Bessner, I offer you my congratulations, also.

Danke schon.

Danke schon.

We are very happy.

- Yes.

- Colonel.

- Dr Bessner.

I am sorry.

Yes, well, I'm not very experienced in these matters, you see?

I thought I'd struck gold.

Ah, it happens, Monsieur Ferguson... ..more often than one might suppose.

Goodbye.

POIROT: Au revoir.

FERGUSON: Colonel.

Who would have thought it would come to this?

It was you, mademoiselle, who said that life was unfair.

Hello, Simon.

I messed up again, didn't I?

Confessed the lot.

I'm sorry.

It's a fool's game, my darling, and we've lost.

That's all.

Please, may I kiss him?

I'm not sure I'll get another chance.

Goodbye, my darling.

You know how much I love you.

Goodbye.

TWO GUNSHOTS Where the devil did she get that?

She had two of them.

She slipped it into your handbag, mademoiselle, on the day of the search, and retrieved it later when she visited your cabin.

RACE: You knew?

It is not always that simple.

♪ Love is the sweetest thing ♪ ♪ What else on earth Could ever bring ♪ ♪ Such happiness to everything ♪ ♪ As love's old story?

♪ ♪ Whatever hearts may desire ♪ ♪ Whatever life may send ♪ ♪ This is the tale That never will tire ♪ ♪ This is the song without end ♪