MAN 1 WHISPERING IN RUSSIAN MAN 2 SPEAKS IN RUSSIAN THEY SPEAK IN RUSSIAN STORE BELL DINGS Thank you.

Thank you, Mr Poirot.

A most discerning choice.

You are most kind, Monsieur Trumper.

You will send the account to my address, if you please?

Why, yes, of course.

Uh, Mr Poirot, if I may ask, is there a special occasion?

Oh, yes, a very special occasion indeed, Monsieur Trumper.

I am about to become a pink rose.

AMELIA CHUCKLING DOCTOR: Yes, you'll be all right.

SHE CHUCKLES Well... I thought it might have been a touch of food poisoning.

Heavens, no.

Just normal digestive trouble for someone your age.

I'll prescribe a powder to settle the stomach.

And remember: keep off chocolates, shellfish and fried foods.

All your old favourites.

SHE CHUCKLES I'll have the powders for Katrina to collect this evening.

MARY: Morning, Reg.

REG: Morning, Mrs Delafontaine.

Lovely day!

What have you got for me?

Oh!

Thank you.

BELL DINGING DOOR OPENS What's the trouble?

SHE SIGHS Not you.

Where's Katrina?

- Madame?

- Katrina, the post.

Oh, yes, Madame.

Oh, it's you.

Only two for Auntie today.

Nothing much to bother her with.

She wants to have them now.

As you wish.

And mind you keep your eyes to yourself.

KNOCK ON DOOR HASTINGS: Poirot, time's getting on, you know.

They're waiting for you.

- One moment longer, Hastings.

He went straight inside as soon as he came back from the shops.

Didn't even read his letters.

- Strange.

Perhaps he's dyeing his hair.

But he's a man.

- What was that, Hastings?

- Oh, er... nothing.

Eh bien... let us put our best feet forward.

BRASS BAND PLAYING A TUNE INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS I can't imagine why you're so keen on coming here.

You know Mary takes care of the garden.

Nevertheless, it does belong to me.

That wasn't necessary, Auntie.

As was a certain bill I received this morning, from the wine merchants, for spirits.

I've already spoken with Henry on that subject, Aunt Amelia.

Now, where are we going first?

I don't know where you're going, but I have a sudden fancy to see the roses.

Katrina?

And so it is with a deep honour that I salute this most beautiful of flowers, which shares my own humble name.

Thank you.

APPLAUSE Pour moi?

HE CHUCKLES Oh, merci beaucoup!

MAN 1: Mr Poirot... MAN 2: Thank you, Mr Poirot.

MAN 3: Mr Poirot.

MAN 4: This way, Mr Poirot.

Thank you.

MAN 5: Over here, Mr Poirot.

MAN 6: Thank you, Mr Poirot.

APPLAUSE CONTINUES Of course, I would have expected you to be a polyantha rose, rather than a hybrid tea.

The scent is much stronger here.

Ah, perhaps, but mine are magnificent, are they not?

Sunny day, amiable company, a rose that bears his name.

What more could a man have?

HE SNEEZES Hay fever.

The hay fever?

HE SPEAKS IN FRENCH Pauvre, Hastings.

Have you got a handkerchief I could borrow from you, Poirot?

This one's getting a bit damp.

Unfortunately not.

I still don't think we should leave them.

Do forget it, Henry.

What are you worried about?

It's just... Well, that girl, she... I-I wonder if they have a bar in this place, hmm?

Er... SHE SIGHS - Stop, stop, stop, please.

- What is it, Madame?

I feel quite giddy.

It must be the heat.

Would you get me a glass of water?

Of course.

Leave me here.

I can look at the seeds.

Uh, don't worry.

I shall be quite all right.

No dawdling, mind.

BOTH EXCLAIMING Oh, pardon, Madame.

Please allow me.

AMELIA: No... No, it was my fault.

My... my attendant has left me for a few moments.

Thank you.

Oh, it's... ah.

It's Mr Poirot, surely?

That is correct.

SHE CHUCKLES I was quite bedazzled.

It all looks so beautiful, doesn't it?

Ah, an inspiration.

You have a garden of your own?

One day I hope to retire to grow the vegetable marrows, but until then, I have only the window box.

- Ah.

Then... you must take these.

With my compliments.

- Oh, no, really, Madame... - Miss... Miss Barrowby.

Amelia Barrowby.

Please.

Uh, I insist.

I'm sure you'll find them... quite a revelation.

Oh, mademoiselle, you are... you are most kind.

Thank you.

SHE SPEAKS IN RUSSIAN Well... Where have you been hiding, girl?

You've been ages.

- It was very crowded.

What... What's happening?

Are you all right?

Yes, yes, I'm perfectly all right.

There's nothing the matter.

I'm quite well.

Well, get rid of that water, and find my husband.

Now, Auntie, let's see what ideas I can find for my borders, shall we?

Fuchsia triphylla flore coccinea.

Discovered by a French missionary in 1703.

It is most interesting, Chief Inspector.

How is your hay fever, Hastings?

Oh, much better, thanks.

HE SNEEZES Here you are.

Thank you.

What's this?

Oh... That is a gift from an admirer, Hastings.

Mademoiselle Amelia Barrowby.

JAPP: Really?

You won't be getting many blooms from this lot, though, Poirot.

It is not of a good variety?

Oh, yes, one of the best.

Thing is, there's no seeds in it.

Oh, you're home, madam.

I was worried about the supper.

Don't worry, Lucy.

We haven't forgotten your night off.

Who is it this week?

- Ronald Colman.

Will Miss Katrina be dining?

- Yes.

Yes, she just had a little errand to do.

AMELIA GRUNTING There we are.

That should do the business.

Thank you.

DOOR CLOSES - Good evening, Miss Lemon.

MISS LEMON: Mr Poirot.

This morning's post is still on your desk.

HE GASPS Thank you very much, Miss Lemon.

HASTINGS SNEEZES HASTINGS SNORTS I just can't understand it.

I never had this trouble before.

I cannot say with certainty that I have noticed it.

I did have a bit of stick with an allergy once, but that was... HE SNEEZES The nappy rash, perhaps?

It is most intriguing.

You know, what I don't understand, Poirot, is why someone would want to give you an empty packet of seeds.

Well, perhaps this will be the answer to your question, Hastings.

A letter from Mademoiselle Amelia Barrowby.

HASTINGS: What, the same woman?

It seems strange she didn't mention writing to you.

POIROT: Yes, indeed.

Thank you.

Listen to this.

"Dear, Monsieur Poirot, "I hope you will forgive the form of this letter, "but I have to be very careful."

' "For some time now I have been concerned ' "that something is very wrong in my household. '

"When age began to catch up with me, ' "my niece Mary and her husband agreed to take care of me, ' "in return for a roof over their heads."

' LUCY: It's all there, madam.

Oh, and the soup and fish pie are on a low light.

Thank you, Lucy.

POIROT: ' "Mary runs the house efficiently enough, ' "although her husband Henry has one particular weakness, ' "of which I thoroughly disapprove. '

"Then, about a year ago, I had cause to engage ' "a young Russian girl as my companion."

' Oh, there you are.

Tell my aunt we'll have supper directly.

POIROT: ' "I am assured, from your description, ' "that you are discretion itself. '

"Even so, I hardly dare set down ' "the matter that is troubling me. '

"My worry is that if word of my suspicions ' "reached the wrong person, ' "I very much fear what might happen."

' Henry!

DRUNKENLY: Coming, darling.

POIROT: ' "For this reason, I must continue ' "to behave as normally as I can..." ' BELL RINGING ' "..in case this person should take fright."

' SHE SIGHS KATRINA: Madame... Oh.

What does he put into these things?

MARY: For what we're about to receive, may the Lord make us truly thankful.

ALL SOFTLY: Amen.

POIROT: "If you will help me, "perhaps you would call and speak with me "at the above address as soon as possible.

"Yours very truly, Amelia Barrowby."

Curious.

All sounds a bit dotty, if you ask me.

Why didn't she just tell you about it when she met you?

The old lady is unaccompanied for the moment.

She is frightened she may be discovered.

She passes to me a harmless packet.

What does it mean?

Probably has an active imagination.

A lot of old dears do.

"Rosebank, Charman's Green."

Where is that?

South.

Borders of Surrey.

Green fields, certainly.

HASTINGS SNEEZES, SIGHS I'm not sure I like the sound of that.

Eh bien, at the first thing tomorrow, Miss Lemon, I would like you to accompany me on a visit to Mademoiselle Amelia Barrowby.

If you wish, Mr Poirot.

BIRDS CHIRPING CLASSICAL MUSIC PLAYING ON GRAMOPHONE MUSIC CONTINUES PLAYING SHE GRUNTS SHE GROANS ABRUPTLY SHE GRUNTS OBJECTS CLATTERING KATRINA: Oh!

Madame!

Please!

KATRINA: Please!

What is it?

Get away from her!

- Leave her alone!

- Get away!

AMELIA GASPING WOMEN SHOUTING INDISTINCTLY KATRINA: She's so sick... - Oh, my God.

AMELIA SCREAMS - Get the doctor.

- What?

The doctor, you idiot.

Quickly!

AMELIA GURGLING AMELIA GROANS LOUDLY SHE CONTINUES GROANING HASTINGS: No, I'm afraid she's not here.

TRUMPER OVER PHONE: 'Is Mr Poirot there?'

No, he's not here, either.

They've gone down to Charman's Green.

I'm sort of holding the fort, as I can't risk the pollen.

TRUMPER: 'When is she going to settle the account?"

Pardon?

TRUMPER: 'She has to settle the account!'

Oh... Well, I'm sure she meant to pay it.

Hang on.

I'll dig out the bill and have a look.

I'll just be a moment, Mr Trumper.

HE SIGHS HE SNEEZES VEHICLE APPROACHING Perhaps you would have the goodness to wait?

We'll be requiring a receipt upon paying.

A receipt?

I wonder... - What is it, Mr Poirot?

- I'm not certain, Miss Lemon.

Come.

A most orderly garden, is it not?

Very neat.

They should have finished that edging, though.

POIROT: Hmm.

BELL DINGS Ah!

This is like your English nursery rhyme, Miss Lemon.

"Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?

"With silver bells..." Oh, pardon.

I fear that this has been dropped in your garden.

That's where it got to.

It must have been dropped, what with... Thank you, sir.

HE SPEAKS IN FRENCH Is Mademoiselle Barrowby at home?

Oh, sir!

Didn't you know?

It was last night, she... I'm afraid she died, sir.

HE SIGHS STAIRCASE CREAKS LUCY: If you'd just wait here, sir.

POIROT: Thank you so much.

KATRINA: You are a lawyer?

Why should I be a lawyer, mademoiselle?

I thought... perhaps you have come to say she did not know what she was doing.

That is not right.

She wrote it down, and so shall it be!

DOOR OPENS Mr Poirot... I'm so sorry.

May I introduce myself?

Mary Delafontaine.

- Madame.

MARY: This is my husband.

- How do you do?

POIROT: Monsieur.

Miss Barrowby was my aunt.

Thank you.

I very much regret, Madame, that I intrude on your bereavement.

Oh, please, be reassured.

It, er... it was rather unexpected.

Hercule Poirot!

You're that detective chap.

- Monsieur.

- Of course!

The new rose.

I saw you at the flower show.

What brings you to our house?

Oh, forgive me, Madame.

Mademoiselle Barrowby had written to me a letter.

She wished to consult me on a certain matter.

What matter?

That was of a private nature, Madame.

HENRY: Didn't mention Russkies, did she?

POIROT: Pardon?

Russkies?

The Bolshies, the Red menace.

MARY: Henry, please.

Sorry, I... I just thought... HE CHUCKLES NERVOUSLY Well, Mr Poirot, couldn't you tell us a little more?

Ah... Well, Mr Poirot?

At the present moment, I regret that I must say nothing.

Forgive me.

I will show myself out.

Au revoir, Madame, Monsieur.

DOOR CLOSES HE SIGHS There is a mouse in this hole, Miss Lemon.

What must the cat do now, huh?

I'm sure I don't know what that means, Mr Poirot.

JAPP: Where to now, sir?

You tell me... ..Chief Inspector.

I noticed at once that your men, they were making the surveillance.

JAPP: The family doctor put us onto the whole thing.

When I phoned Captain Hastings, he told me you were on your way here.

I trust you didn't blow the gaff to the Delafontaines?

As far as they're concerned, we're just waiting for the postmortem.

So, you suspect as I do?

We're doing our own little test right now... ENGINE TURNS OVER JAPP: ..down at the mortuary.

Perhaps you'd rather wait in the taxi, Miss Lemon?

MISS LEMON: No, thank you.

I did help in the hospital morgue during the war.

POIROT: More filing, Miss Lemon?

MISS LEMON: Mr Poirot!

There's no doubt whatsoever.

- Strychnine.

- A very large dose.

Which would have to be administered very shortly before death.

- Precisely.

Right.

We'd better find out what they all had for dinner.

Ah.

Miss Lemon?

Artichoke soup, served from a tureen, fish pie and apple tart.

I was chatting to the maid.

She had some time off to see a film.

All four of them ate the same thing.

Excellent, Miss Lemon.

JAPP: Can't have been in the food, then, if they all had it.

Must have slipped it to the old girl separately.

No, no, Chief Inspector.

That cannot be.

- Eh?

CORONER: He's right.

Strychnine's as bitter as gall.

You can taste it in a solution of one in a thousand.

- Coffee.

- She never drank it.

Well, I'm hanged if I can see how anyone did it.

Nevertheless, Chief Inspector, someone in that household is a cold-blooded poisoner.

KNOCKING AT DOOR SIMS: I feared it might be this.

I've seen something like it once before in my old practice.

POIROT: Oh?

Rich old biddy takes in her penniless relatives.

Holds the purse strings.

The temptation is to speed up the natural process and collect.

The Delafontaines were dependent on the money of Mademoiselle Barrowby?

Totally.

Hadn't a bean of their own.

Dabbled in stocks and shares, I'm afraid.

Crash hit them as badly as any of us.

And they're her only living relatives?

SIMS: Yes.

Certain to inherit.

A substantial private income, by all accounts.

Excuse me, Monsieur le Docteur.

Was Mademoiselle Barrowby taking medicine of any kind?

Not much we can do for her at that age.

Just a cachet before meals to aid the digestion.

Ah!

Oh, no, it couldn't have been her powders.

Katrina guarded those like a demon.

Well, perhaps she slipped in the poison.

SIMS: But why?

Katrina wouldn't poison her mistress.

Much better to keep her alive and remain employed.

"She wrote it down, and so shall it be."

JAPP: She what?

Possibly nothing.

Well, one thing's for sure.

The Delafontaines have got to be told that this is a murder investigation.

Coming, Poirot?

No, no.

Not for the present, Chief Inspector.

JAPP: Doctor.

Tell me, Dr Sims, did Mademoiselle Barrowby have a solicitor?

HORSE HOOVES CLOPPING HARRISON: I understand the problem, but I'm not due to read the will until next Saturday.

The girl said to me, "She wrote it down, and so shall it be."

Have you any idea what she meant by that?

I'm afraid I'm bound to remain silent.

Monsieur Harrison, please forgive me, I am not asking you to break the confidentiality of a client.

However, it is unfortunate that it suits the purposes of a murderer!

HORSE SNORTS Numbers three, nine and fourteen, please.

APPLAUSE It's rather a difficult decision, this one.

These two are well known to everyone, the mare and the gelding.

Solid, reliable.

And then there's this, a young filly.

Foreign bloodstock.

Unconventional.

A new arrival in a close-knit stable.

And which will win the prize?

The new arrival wins it.

APPLAUSE Thank you, sir.

Monsieur Harrison, I thank you.

Justice has been seem to be done.

Miss Lemon.

I'll have you pounding the beat again for two pennies.

I've never known a more dozy pair of layabouts.

POIROT: Chief Inspector... - Poirot.

I bring the bad news.

Well, I've had my fair share of that for today.

It is not the Delafontaines who inherit the money of Mademoiselle Barrowby.

It is the Russian girl, Katrina Reiger, and she was aware of the fact for all of the time.

Did you hear that?

If there wasn't a lady present, your ears would be burning so much, they'd boil what's left of your brains.

What has happened?

They've only gone and let her slip out of the place!

Katrina Reiger has gone missing.

Murder?

It's so unthinkable.

I just didn't... Henry, I should have listened to you.

I'm sorry.

I never did trust that girl.

Oh, I... I think I feel faint.

Easy, old thing.

Thank you, Doctor.

A lie-down would be the best idea.

MARY SIGHS, GROANS It's been a shock for us all.

A little bit of Russia in our green and pleasant land, eh?

Most interesting.

Tell me, Chief Inspector, do you know which is this particular saint?

All these foreign bearded types look the same to me.

Does it matter?

Possibly not.

Let's rejoin the others.

Thank you.

I've given her a mild sedative.

Thank you, Doctor.

It's been quite an experience.

Ah, Mr Poirot.

Chief Inspector.

Monsieur le Docteur.

- Goodbye.

- Goodbye.

Never liked that girl.

Secretive.

You suspected that Mademoiselle Barrowby had left to her everything?

Oh, no, not for sure.

But there was always a threat.

CONSTABLE: Sir!

In the Russian's box.

Hmm.

Looks like strychnine to me, all right.

If I'm any judge, all Miss Reiger will be collecting is a trip to the Old Bailey.

HENRY: If that is her name.

What do you mean?

Communist agitator.

Spreads trouble.

Raises money working for the revolution in England.

Oh, come off it, sir.

That's Boys' Own Paper stuff.

No, no, no, Chief Inspector Japp.

I fear that Monsieur Delafontaine is quite right.

JAPP: Well, check again.

There is no possibility of error in the state-information files.

JAPP: She must be registered.

She's been living here three years.

Comrade Stalin makes no provision for mistakes.

We know no-one called Katrina Reiger.

Thank you.

You've been a great help.

One more thing, Monsieur.

What was it that Marx called "the opiate of the masses"?

Popular fiction, comrade.

Ah, yes, of course.

Thank you.

JAPP: Looks like you could be right, Poirot.

She must be one of those agitators.

Why else would they deny all knowledge of her?

Probably back in Russia by now.

I do not think that she would enjoy that.

She's a Red, isn't she?

I hardly think so, Chief Inspector.

Not with an image of the late Tsar on her dressing table.

But you said... That Monsieur Delafontaine is right?

Oh, yes.

Reiger is not her real name.

What do we do now?

If I were you, Chief Inspector, I would look for the Russian church in London.

The "opiate of the masses" is religion, as the young man fully knows.

And now... it is time for my tisane, Miss Lemon.

Chief Inspector.

HASTINGS: Mr Trumper's phoned three or four times.

He's really very upset.

Perhaps I should send the cash round by messenger.

Five guineas will settle the account.

Certainly not, Captain Hastings.

Just ignore it.

I'll have words with him when I return.

Yes, but... And on no account disturb the files.

Bye for the moment.

HE SIGHS HEAVILY INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS Miss Lemon... I want you to figure to yourself a little history.

Mr Poirot?

- You are a Russian girl.

- Yes.

Now, you're employed as a nurse companion to an old lady who is very demanding.

Yes.

And she takes a liking to you, this old lady, and she decides to leave you all her money.

And she tells you so.

But there is one worry.

You have not been entirely honest about your background.

Then... disaster.

You suspect she has called upon the services of a famous detective.

You act swiftly, and before he arrives, this detective, the old lady is dead, and the money is yours.

Does this sound to you reasonable?

I'm rather afraid it does.

I agree.

HE SIGHS If only we could be sure of what Mademoiselle Barrowby was suspicious of.

If only she could have left us more of a clue.

Are you sure she didn't slip something into the seed packet?

No.

SEED PACKET RUSTLES No.

HE SIGHS Of course!

What a simpleton I have become!

Ah, Poirot!

Here it is.

Russian church.

Not a sparrow's hop from here.

Excellent!

But first, if you please, Miss Lemon, do you have two pennies?

- For a tip, Mr Poirot?

For the telephone, Miss Lemon.

POIROT: Bonjour, Mademoiselle Reiger.

No, mademoiselle... Be not alarmed.

This is sanctuary.

You are safe here.

I want only to know the truth.

Why did you run away?

I know what you all think.

It was I who poisoned her.

Oh, yes, I know the signs.

I have seen it in Russia.

When Stalin's men came.

Your family was persecuted because of their position, so you fled secretly to England?

What do you care?

Like them, you wish me to be penniless.

This I must know, mademoiselle.

Did no-one touch the medication but you?

I would rather have died.

Mademoiselle had for her dinner only what we know?

Of course, or someone would have noticed.

It must have been a great trial for a girl like you to work for another.

"Fetch this, carry that..." when once you had servants of your own.

I am a Rezhimirov.

I am not afraid of work.

And are you afraid of the noose?

It was on the seed packet all the time: Catherine the Great.

Or in Russian... Katrina.

I realised on the way over.

DOOR CLOSES MISS LEMON: Here he comes.

DOOR OPENS Ah... DOOR CLOSES I will go with you now.

JAPP: Take her and charge her.

Well, at least she came quietly.

There's a nice tidy end to the whole business.

I do not think so, Chief Inspector.

Come, Miss Lemon.

ENGINE TURNS OVER Oh, no... Hello, Poirot, Japp, Miss Lemon.

MISS LEMON GASPS How goes the sneezing, Hastings?

Oh, dear.

This package arrived for you.

Seems to be full of old letters.

Ah!

Thank you.

Thank you.

Now, look here, Poirot.

I can't for the life of me see what's bothering you.

The girl saw you talking to the old biddy.

She knew something was up.

She had the motive and she had the only opportunity.

We know without a doubt who did it.

Oh, yes.

We know that, I think.

What are these, Poirot?

These are the routine letters that Mademoiselle Barrowby wrote to her accountant.

And this is the letter that she wrote to me.

Ah-ha.

If you look very carefully, Hastings, you will note in the handwriting the important but subtle difference.

I see.

So, Katrina swapped her mistress's letter with the one she wrote herself?

Oh, Hastings, how I have missed your powers of deduction!

No, the one thing that bothers me is the proof of how it was done.

We have that... don't we?

MISS LEMON ANGRILY: Captain Hastings!

What... is... this?

Ah... yes.

I was going to explain about that.

I told you not to pay this account.

Well, Mr Trumper was very persistent.

MISS LEMON: But you don't know tradesmen.

If you pay in cash, they'll never forget you.

They'll think your cheques aren't good.

Of course!

We will make another visit to Charman's Green.

You also, Miss Lemon.

- I, Mr Poirot?

- Oh, yes.

I want you to pay a visit to a fishmonger.

You've recovered from the shock now?

Thank you, yes.

It's all been rather an ordeal.

- Ah!

Good afternoon!

- Good afternoon.

Monsieur le Docteur.

Madame.

Mr Poirot, what a pleasant surprise.

Now I can thank you for all you've done behind the scenes.

Je vous en prie, Madame.

Merci, mademoiselle.

- Please, do sit down.

- Ah, thank you, Monsieur.

Ah, an unpleasant business, hmm?

And not a simple one.

Now that it's all over, perhaps you'd take us into your confidence.

Yes.

What was it?

A Bolshie plot?

They played their part, but non.

As you know, Mademoiselle Barrowby had written to me.

But she dared not to confide to me her exact worries, in case that letter had been intercepted.

But wonder upon wonders, she catches sight of me at the flower show, so she contrives the brief meeting... Oh, pardon, Madame.

Please allow me.

No, it was my fault.

..thinking that I had already read her letter.

She... spoke to you?

Oh, yes.

But you see, here was her problem.

She might be watched.

She might be overheard.

So, she passes to me an innocent packet, which is a clue to that which she suspects.

SIMS: A clue?

- Yes.

In fact, Monsieur le Docteur, it was something that you said that finally made clear to me the significance of the packet.

Stocks!

I telephoned to the accountant of Mademoiselle Barrowby in the City, who confirmed that during the recent months, Mademoiselle Barrowby had been moving into the ventures of most high risk, as these letters of instruction to her broker prove.

Except, these letters, they were not written by Mademoiselle Barrowby.

Non, non.

They are the forgeries, and the most skilful.

Damnable Bolshie!

Right under our very noses.

Ah, yes... Monsieur Delafontaine.

You attempt to confuse me with your ridiculous stories about spies.

Mademoiselle Reiger is a Russian aristocrat, not a communist.

In truth, Monsieur Delafontaine, you have been trying to conceal a most devious murder!

CUTLERY CRASHES Sorry.

Mr Poirot, is this melodrama essential?

When I first came here, Monsieur le Docteur, this beautiful garden, it reminded me of your famous English nursery rhyme.

"Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?"

"With the silver bells and the cockleshells, "and the pretty maids, all in a row."

Except, they were not cockleshells that were used in the border of the garden.

They were oyster shells.

The favourite but forbidden treat of your aunt.

Were they not?

Madame Delafontaine, you also saw me at the flower show.

You could not risk the discovery that for some time, you had again been speculating with the stocks.

Only, on this occasion, Madame, with the money of your aunt.

I believe you are also speculating, Mr Poirot.

Where is your proof?

Ah, yes, Madame, the proof.

I'm afraid, the fishmonger remembers you buying the oysters on that day.

You see, Madame, you were foolish enough to pay cash.

HENRY: He's got us, Mary.

- You idiot!

HENRY: Mary!

Mary!

Darling, please... POIROT: There is no escape, Madame.

MARY: That miserable Russian wretch!

She was going to get everything!

Including my garden!

My garden!

So, you plant the poison in her room and send her to her death?

MARY: What did it matter?

She's a little fool!

Keep back!

Oh, yes.

That jelly of a husband of mine tried to talk me out of it.

But it was so deliciously easy.

'Auntie always had a weakness for oysters, 'but the doctor disapproved.

'It was simple to produce them as a secret treat.

'She swallowed them so quickly, 'she never noticed the taste of the strychnine.'

The only problem was to dispose of the shells, so Lucy wouldn't notice.

'An edging on the flower bed was perfect.

'It also provided a resting place for the bell.

'Always ringing, over and over!'

- And so it is over, Madame!

- Not quite!

POIROT: No, Madame, no!

SHE GRUNTS Whisky?

Sorry... darling.

You fool!

BOTTLE CRASHES You've condemned me to the gallows!

MARY SCREAMS HYSTERICALLY Mr Delafontaine.

BIRDS CHIRPING POIROT: Bravo, mademoiselle.

You are indeed as brave as you claimed.

And now you are free.

Free?

Your young friend, he is waiting.

SHE EXHALES SOFTLY Thank you, Monsieur Poirot, for not betraying us.

One day we shall be truly free.

DRIVER: Where to, miss?

KATRINA: Take us to... ..the Ritz.

JAPP: Swipe me.

She's the Queen of Sheba.

HASTINGS BREATHING HEAVILY - Good evening, Hastings.

- Hello, there, all.

Captain Hastings, what are you doing?

All that pollen!

No, it's all right.

I'm as right as ninepence.

It wasn't hay fever.

- Certainly sounded like it.

No, you remember I said I had an allergy once before?

Well, I remembered what it was.

An aunt of mine was fond of a particular French lady's perfume.

JAPP: Eh?

When I went near her or where she'd been, I couldn't stop sneezing.

I'm afraid, Miss Lemon, you must use a different perfume.

I never wear perfume to work, Mr Poirot.

HASTINGS: You don't?

It would be most inappropriate.

JAPP: Well, somebody's wearing perfume.

HE SNIFFS I can smell it.

SHE SNIFFS POIROT: Perhaps it is the flowers, my friend.

No.

No, it's different.

It's over here somewhere.

HE CONTINUES SNIFFING HASTINGS SNEEZES Poirot!

What on earth are you wearing?

I do not know what you mean, Hastings.

HASTINGS SNEEZES AGAIN - You're wearing scent.

- Nonsense, Hastings!

I am wearing a discreet, manly cologne, that I purchased from Monsieur Trumper.

For five guineas.

Five guineas?

I thought it was all his haircuts for a year.

That is enough!

The office of Poirot is closed for business.

Miss Lemon, cover up your typewriter.

Good day, Chief Inspector Japp.

And, Hastings, will you please go home and nurse your unfortunate affliction?

DOOR CLOSES Subtitles by accessibility@itv.com