Mr Davenheim's back, madam.

Thank you, Walter.

I won't be needing the car over the weekend.

CAR DOOR CLOSES CHARLOTTE: Thank you, Martha.

BOTH LAUGH You look tired.

Darling...

The servants.

How was your meeting this morning?

Well, so-so.

They must refer back to Wall Street, so it'll be a few days yet.

Oh, by the way, Lowen rang.

He said he would be catching the earlier train after all.

Ah.

MUSIC: '1812 Overture' by Tchaikovsky I don't know why you agreed to see him anyway.

You keep saying how much you detest the man.

It wasn't quite that easy.

He's a shark and he's very slippery.

He's angling for a directorship at the bank.

Has been for months now.

But you'd sooner die.

Gerald Lowen, a seat on your own bank!

Oh, he wants to make life as uncomfortable for me as he can, and that would give him just the power base to set about it.

Unfortunately, he does hold a bit of a trump card this time.

A 5% stake in Cape Gold, which he knows we're desperate to get hold of.

It puts him in a rather strong bargaining position, I'm afraid.

You all right?

- Yes, I'm fine.

Well, if he's on the 4:45, he could be here pretty shortly.

I really ought to go through one or two of these papers before he gets here.

I'm sorry about all this.

DOOR CLOSES CLOCK CHIMES DOOR OPENS Ah, look, I just want to catch the last post.

I think I'll take a wander into the village.

Lowen'll just be getting in.

I can meet him off the train.

- Right.

Anyway, a spot of fresh air will do me good.

Mathew!

DRUM ROLL APPLAUSE BIRD CHIRPS POIROT: The girl was no longer inside the chrysalis when it vanished.

There was a secret.

It baffled even Poirot for a full ten seconds.

The key, of course, lies in the costume of the girl.

Inside, there is sewn a network of very fine steel wires.

Human beings are made of flesh and blood, no?

To make them vanish into the air, c'est impossible!

JAPP: You think so?

I take it you haven't heard then about the strange business of Mr Mathew Davenheim?

We are talking about Monsieur Davenheim of Davenheim and Salmon?

Ah, the big banking firm?

Of which Mathew Davenheim was the senior partner, and a very wealthy man, too, if his house is anything to go by.

POIROT: Incidentally, my dear Chief Inspector, you will have a little something to warm you before you leave?

Well, seeing as I'm not on duty.

Yes, it's a rare old puzzle, all told.

Friday afternoon, he told his wife he was off to the village to post some letters.

Walks out the front gate, hasn't been seen or heard of since.

And at what time precisely did Monsieur Davenheim leave?

We gather around 4:40.

He was expecting a business colleague to arrive by train that afternoon to talk over some financial deal or other.

A Mr Gerald Lowen.

PIANO PLAYING MAID: A gentleman to see Mr Davenheim, madam.

MUSIC STOPS Gerald Lowen.

How do you do?

- Mr Lowen.

You drove here then.

I didn't hear the car.

No, I came by train.

But we were a little early, so I thought I'd walk up from the station.

But my husband was walking down to meet you.

How maddening!

You must have passed each other in the lane.

I don't think so.

Oh, but you must have.

He left here not five... Mrs Davenheim, I couldn't possibly have passed your husband.

The fact is, I didn't pass anybody.

There wasn't another soul in the lane all the way.

Please make yourself comfortable in here.

I'm sure he won't be very long.

- Good.

JAPP: 'Mrs Davenheim showed Lowen 'into her husband's study, and there he waited.'

DOOR CLOSES 'And waited... 'and waited.

'Well over an hour goes by.

'Still Davenheim doesn't return.

'Gerald Lowen, his patience exhausted, 'takes his leave.'

This is the way your husband treats important business clients, is it?

I'm...

I'm quite at a loss.

I'm so sorry.

Yes, I'm very sorry, too, Mrs Davenheim.

Very sorry indeed.

JAPP: 'Enquiries were made throughout the village.

'Nothing.'

CHARLOTTE: ..they've searched everywhere, but I don't know who else... JAPP: 'To all intents and purposes, 'Mathew Davenheim has vanished off the face of the earth.

'It seems everyone saw Lowen.'

Nobody saw Davenheim.

Lowen?

Why does that name ring a bell?

Certainement, it is most obscure, my dear Chief Inspector.

Which gives me the great hopes of solving it.

I'm afraid I can't see it myself.

Ah, but I do not see, mon ami.

I shut my eyes, and I think.

One must always seek the truth from within.

If you've told me that once, you've told me a thousand times.

All right, then, Poirot... ..here's a challenge for you.

A fiver of my money that says you can't solve this little mystery without leaving the house.

We'll give you seven days.

Of course, if it's beyond even your magical powers...

Et bien, seven days, hein?

Provided the facts are placed before me, and that you will allow Hastings here to furnish me with such information as I require, the solution becomes inevitable.

I accept.

JAPP: Good night, Poirot.

Thanks for the drink.

Like robbing a baby.

DOOR OPENS Now, that's the way he'd have walked to the village, sir.

About five minutes on foot.

During which time, he must have passed Lowen coming from the station.

Can I just ask, what's down there?

That takes you right into Brooklands, the big motor racing venue.

A little way down there is a boating lake.

Now, we've checked with the keeper.

He swears Davenheim never passed his hut.

JAPP: Captain Hastings.

- Chief Inspector.

I beg your pardon, sir?

What colour were they, if you can remember?

Mr Lowen's trousers, sir?

Well, I know it's a rather odd question, but a rather odd person would like to know.

Kind of a light colour, I suppose you'd say they were.

Light grey.

Very smartly turned out, he was.

Apart from that stupid moustache.

It goes back a long way, this rivalry between them.

Lowen lost out to my husband in a big deal over some shipping company shares.

The poor man was nearly wiped out.

That was a few years ago now, but... he's never stopped hounding Mathew ever since.

I believe he came here to barter some South African stock or something in exchange for a position on the bank.

Did a lot of business in South Africa, did he, your husband?

He was over in Johannesburg all last winter.

Must have been... three months.

He brought me back the most wonderful diamond earrings.

VOICE SHAKING: He always brought me back jewellery of one kind or another whenever he went away.

SHE CRIES SOFTLY Do you believe in a sixth sense, Chief Inspector?

I had it the day my mother died.

I had it again on Friday.

All day, the certain knowledge that something like this was going to happen.

And now it has, hasn't it?

I wonder if I might have a word now with your maid?

Well, I think I might have a word now with your mistress.

Chief Inspector.

- Captain Hastings.

DOOR OPENS Surprised to see you still here, Mr Poirot.

I thought you'd be out on the Davenheim case.

Well, Miss Lemon, the Chief Inspector Japp has bet me five pounds that I cannot solve this mystery without leaving my apartment, and I accept his bet.

Oh, are you sure that was wise?

Perhaps not, Miss Lemon.

On reflection... ten pounds would be a much rounder sum.

I just told all I know to that police inspector.

I ain't got time to tell it all again.

No, quite.

I can see you're a very busy man, Mr Merritt.

A boatman's work's never done.

Yes.

On Friday afternoon, Mr Merritt... Oh.

I remember it all plain enough.

Friday afternoon's one of my busiest times.

I remember looking at my watch that said 4:55.

BICYCLE BELL RINGS 'A couple of vagrants come by, 'and this, uh, girl on a bike.

'One of them was blind.

'Ugly looking pair, all told.'

Looked as if they'd been drinking.

That were all that afternoon.

There weren't no-one else come by.

I'd remember, wouldn't I?

Yes.

Well...

I'd better be getting along.

Wouldn't want to keep you from all your work, Mr Merritt.

HE CHUCKLES Don't you worry about that.

Soon as that paint's dry on that bench, I'll be right up and giving that a second coat.

POIROT: Ah, light grey, you say, Hastings.

That may be significant.

I'd still like to know what the colour of Lowen's trousers has got to do with anything.

Surely that is obvious, Hastings.

Monsieur Lowen says that he didn't pass Monsieur Davenheim in the lane, oui?

Now, is he lying, Hastings... or did he in fact kill Monsieur Davenheim?

A messy scuffle in a country road, the disposal of a body in a muddy field, and still he manages to turn up at the house minutes later so immaculately dressed?

Ah... it seemed rather trivial.

No, Hastings.

Nothing is trivial in the matter of murder.

I commend also for your attention the fact that before he leaves the room, Monsieur Davenheim puts onto the gramophone a record of the 1812 Overture.

That was highly significant, too, was it?

Well, we may as yet be on the wrong track, but at least it is suggestive.

Track!

That was it!

- Gerald Lowen... - Comment?

Gerald Lowen...

Races a couple of Bugattis.

Just beginning to make a name for himself on the circuits.

I bet it's the same chap.

Ah, the racing of the cars.

Around and around in the circles.

Never will I understand the passion for such a pointless pastime.

You got to experience it, Poirot.

The sheer exhilaration.

Flying around by the seat of your pants!

Yes.

Well, Hastings... perhaps you should try cleaning them first.

All right, lads, fan out!

Keep your eyes open!

Chief Inspector!

Bring it in.

Oh, my God!

It's my husband's.

You might just as well admit it, Mr Poirot.

You can't stand being cooped up here on your own away from all the action.

Miss Lemon, it becomes denser by the minute.

If his body had been discovered in the lake, eh bien, a simple murder problem or an intriguing suicide, but his clothes and no Monsieur Davenheim!

We are dealing here, Miss Lemon, with a body of evidence requiring the most skilful dissection.

Well, in that case, why don't you call off this stupid bet, and get out there ferreting for yourself?

Get out there ferreting, Miss Lemon?

We are not hunting the jack rabbits!

This is a delicate exercise in the skill... BUZZER SOUNDS Miss Lemon, the door, if you please.

Mr Poirot!

Oui.

Morning, sir.

I've got a parrot for Mr Poi-rot.

PARROT WHISTLES No, no, no, no.

Poirot.

It is pronounced Poirot.

I beg your pardon, guv'nor.

I've got a poirot for Mr Poi-rot.

PARROT SQUAWKS POIROT: But I heard nothing from Commander Wallis.

He promised me faithfully he was going to clear it with you first.

It's just that he had to dash away to Scotland for a few days, and no-one else could look after it for him.

Anyway, be a bit of extra company for you as you're stuck inside the office for a week.

You do like birds, don't you, Monsieur Poirot?

Miss Lemon, small animals have no part to play in the life of a private detective from Belgium.

PARROT: Hello!

PARROT WOLF-WHISTLES Except, of course, as a source of nourishment.

PARROT SQUAWKS CAR ACCELERATING MAN ON INTERCOM: 'Car 17, 'kindly report to the secretary of the meeting.'

Excuse me, I'm looking for a Mr Gerald Lowen.

Well, that was him.

He'll come back into the paddock next time round.

You're interested in the car?

I'll say!

Never seen a Bugatti fly like that before.

- The best time we've ever done.

- Really?

Yes.

We can meet him by the shed.

HASTINGS: So you altered the fuel system?

Oh, yeah, and we took out the dual belt drive 224.

Oh, mind your back, sir.

HASTINGS: So, you raised the compression ratio?

MAN: Oh, yes, and uprated the supercharger, sir.

Brilliant.

Bet you get a fantastic HP to your rev rate.

This is the gentleman who's interested in the car.

Captain Hastings.

You're Gerald Lowen.

- Hastings?

Well, you'd better take her for a spin.

Really?

That's terribly kind of you!

You sure?

You want to get the whole picture.

- Well, of course!

- Mr Lowen?

MAN ON INTERCOM: 'Competitors are reminded 'that to assist the timekeepers, 'correct numbers are to be displayed during practice.'

I'm sorry to trouble you, Mr Lowen, but I'm from Scotland Yard.

I wonder if you wouldn't mind answering... a few questions?

Colonel Brighton.

The gentleman I was telling you about.

He's interested in buying the car.

Brighton?

Hastings!

HE YELLS Hey, you!

Get out of that damn car!

- Captain Hastings.

- Chief Inspector.

I think the police have had quite enough of my time, Chief Inspector.

Ah, just one moment, please, Mr Lowen.

How many more times do you want me to tell you?

I didn't pass Davenheim in that lane.

Perhaps he fell down a rabbit hole.

And good riddance!

I gather he'd given you a bit of a hiding on the markets once or twice, Mr Lowen.

Scored a few major coups at your personal expense.

Davenheim's wealth was accumulated at many people's expense.

I don't imagine I'm the only financier in the City who bore him a grudge.

Well, you know what it's like.

Oh?

What is it like, Mr Lowen?

Dog eat dog in the City?

High-powered money men going for each other's throats?

Look, if you're suggesting that I killed Davenheim, and then tossed his damn clothes away into that lake...

Clothes in the lake, Mr Lowen?

I don't think we've officially announced that yet.

CAR ACCELERATING Well...

I must have heard it on the Exchange.

Good God!

You don't think you can keep a thing like that secret, surely!

Thank you, Mr Lowen.

Good day.

He sounds quite unbearably vain, this man, Hastings.

How did he know about the clothes in the lake?

In the city, they would know what we had for breakfast if it was important to the share prices.

Where does that leave us, then?

You think Davenheim's been kidnapped?

Where's the ransom note?

Or the demand?

A murder, then?

Where is the corpse?

And what sort of murder is it where the killer removes the clothes of his victim, and throws them into the lake?

Well, those two vagrants could've attacked him, robbed him of his clothes, then panicking in case the clothes identified them as the man's killer, tossed them into the water, and made a run for it.

Well, the boatman said he saw nothing.

Then, he spends most of his time asleep anyway.

Bravo, Hastings.

PARROT WOLF-WHISTLES You begin to use your little grey cells, hein?

Of course, your reasoning is fallacious in every respect.

- Oh.

Your common sneak thieves are very rarely the murderers, Hastings.

And unless also he is a member of the Magic Circle... ..and has constructed a secret trap door somewhere in the lane... ..how has he made the body... ..disappear?

And please, do not fraternise with that creature.

I am still training him.

It's only a parrot.

I was talking to the parrot.

PARROT CHITTERS MAN: Old moneybags is still missing, then?

MAID GIGGLES I bet he's in Rio by now.

FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING And you are certain that the lock, it had been forced?

JAPP: Nobody knows when.

It could have been like that since Friday.

Everything had gone, including the gems.

The gems?

All those expensive jewels he kept bringing back.

Cleaned out the lot.

Ah, things are now moving in a very definite direction.

You cannot fail to see the thread.

All the same, there are still certain litmus tests to be carried out before we can be absolutely sure.

Ah, ah, ah... Where are you going?

Ah, oui.

Unless, of course, you've changed your mind, and...

Certainly not.

A wager is a wager.

Hastings, you are not busy this afternoon?

- Well... - I want you to help me in a little experiment.

I don't know why we're all standing around here talking while he's out there scot-free!

HE COUGHS Well, we have questioned Mr Lowen, madam, but, at the moment, we don't have any...

Excuse me.

Would you mind awfully if I went to get a glass of water?

- Oh, please, let... - No, no, no.

I'll go myself.

HE COUGHS VIOLENTLY The man was determined to ruin my husband, we know that.

And he was on his own right there in the study for... well, for well over an hour.

JAPP: We don't know for sure it was broken into on Friday afternoon.

CHARLOTTE: I locked it up myself, Chief Inspector.

Just as Mathew was returning home.

We couldn't have been burgled since then.

Why haven't any of the doors or windows been forced open?

It can only have been done by someone who was inside the house.

Uh... Just, uh, conducting a little experiment that, um...

It's a wonder Japp didn't lock me up for breaking and entering.

But, Hastings, you performed magnificently.

Well, I don't see what it proves, except that you need a strong hand to get that thing open.

Lowen isn't exactly a weakling.

Ah, our old friend Monsieur Lowen, hein?

He has suffered so badly at the hands of Monsieur Davenheim that he vows to exact his revenge on the demon banker.

So, first, he kills his adversary.

Then he turns up at the house in order to ransack the safe, and make off with the family jewels, hein?

Well, it's the only explanation that fits.

Like the round hole into the square peg!

The opening of the safe door, Hastings.

How did he force open such a lock without being overheard?

As you yourself so expertly demonstrated, it is quite impossible.

Well, you've only got three days to go.

This is quite tasty.

It is a recipe of my own, Hastings.

Oh, yeah?

Nut husks, bird seed, and the ground cuttlefish.

PARROT SQUAWKING What do you think, then?

Is Davenheim dead, or what?

I think, Hastings, that there is much more to the disappearance of Monsieur Davenheim than at first appears.

But you tell me, mon ami.

You are my eyes and ears, what is our next move?

CAR REVVING PRESENTER: 'Brooklands.

'At the final meeting of an exciting season 'brings out the fastest of the speed cars, 'with the biggest thrills of the day 'during the big race, 'the Gold Star handicap over a distance of 20 miles.

'A keen crowd of enthusiastic spectators 'takes advantage of 'the unusually mild autumn weather 'to rally at the famous track.

'The drivers go round and round and come out here.

HE CHUCKLES 'Or, at least, this one does.

'But it's speed the crowd have come to see, 'and Gerald Lowen, number three, obliges.'

CARS ACCELERATING My God, he took that one a bit fine!

Lowen cut up Bira's Bugatti there on the inside like nobody's business.

The man's certainly got a ruthless streak, and no mistake.

How ruthless remains to be seen.

We've had him under close surveillance for four days now, hoping he might point us towards a body.

All he's pointed us towards so far are cartels and carburettors.

Blimey!

Old Shuttleworth's got some juice in that Alfa Romeo.

Must be averaging 14-something, at least.

Sorry, Japp?

Just thinking aloud.

TYRES SCREECHING - Japp, look out!

- Oi!

JAPP: I'll take that.

Sergeant, cuff him!

Billy Kellet!

My God!

Some people never give up!

Friend of yours, Sergeant?

Was only last winter we put him inside for three months.

Same game, lifting wallets in the crowd.

Looks like mine was the first of the day.

Hello... Well, now... How very interesting.

What is it?

TELEPHONE RINGS Hello.

JAPP ON PHONE: 'Ah, Poirot.'

Haven't caught you in a bad moment, I hope.

Believe me, my dear Chief Inspector Japp, if you had caught me at a bad moment, I should certainly have told you.

'I just thought you'd like to hear the news.'

We found the signet ring of Mathew Davenheim.

What's the matter, then, Kellet?

Three months inside last time not enough for you?

Get homesick for prison, did we?

See the charming house guests we get in here?

They never learn, of course, his type.

Must have an appetite for prison food.

I'll ask you once more, Kellet.

Where did you get this ring?

The wrong answer, and your next port of call could be the gallows, laddie.

HE CLEARS THROAT Well...

IN IRISH ACCENT: I was with me mate, Frankie Marsh.

And we was going down the race track.

Down Brooklands.

BICYCLE BELL RINGS, BOTH EXCLAIM You wanna be careful on that bike, miss!

I come back on my own about seven o'clock.

I'd had a little bit of a drink, you know?

So I sits down by the side of the road for a little rest.

'And I was just about dozing off when I heard this sound...' RUSTLING '..of something dropping into the leaves at the side.'

That's when I saw it.

So, this is his story?

JAPP: Word for word.

"Someone had thrown the ring over the hedge.

"I looks up, and sees this geezer walking away.

"Nobby gent with a light grey suit "and a poncy moustache."

PARROT WOLF-WHISTLES PARROT WOLF-WHISTLES PARROT SQUAWKS PARROT CRIES So, tell me, my dear Chief Inspector... ..do you not find it the most remarkable coincidence... ..that the man who stole your wallet... ..should also turn out to be the most important witness in the case of Monsieur Davenheim?

Well, rather an unfortunate coincidence from his point of view.

Yes, but, sometimes, the most simple coincidence is not all that she appears.

You do follow my train of reasoning?

- No.

- Good.

And since there is at stake five pounds, you would not wish me to elaborate further.

And of course, he denies all knowledge.

Still, we're planning to test Kellet's story with an identity parade.

It can't be ruled out that he's telling the truth.

No, but I find it improbable... ..that having removed the ring... ..from off the finger of his victim, Monsieur Lowen should suddenly decide to toss it away into the ditch.

Of course, he... One has to ask, though, why bother to remove the ring at all?

A valuable piece of merchandise.

Not easy to pawn, though, surely?

Far too easy to recognise.

That's probably why he took it off.

Ah!

What is it, Poirot?

Don't tell me you've sorted it all out.

Perhaps.

But first, I will need the answer to two questions.

What was in the bathroom cabinet of Monsieur Davenheim on the day that he disappeared?

And did he and his wife sleep together, or in the separate bed chambers?

MAID: A gentleman to see you, madam.

I'm most dreadfully sorry to trouble you again, Mrs Davenheim.

Yes, Captain Hastings?

MISS LEMON: Card for Mr Poirot.

DOOR CLOSES That's a devil of a day out there!

You can hardly see your hand in front of your face.

How true, Miss Lemon.

There are days when none of us can see the hand in front of our face.

When even I, Hercule Poirot, cannot see what is staring plainly at me between the eyes.

I think you've lost me again.

Mais certainement, Miss Lemon.

It is very easy to lose a person, hein?

Sometimes because you do not know... ..who it is you are trying to find.

Analysis and synthesis, Miss Lemon.

There lies the key to the art of deduction.

To strip apart the evidence... ..detail by detail... ..to its barest essentials... ..until miraculously all the pieces, they just fall into place, and we have the complete picture of everything that happened.

SHE LAUGHS, DOOR OPENS, CLOSES Ah, Hastings, what news do you have for me?

The mystery it is solved, yes?

You know, Poirot, I sometimes wonder if you don't set me these tasks just to find out how much embarrassment I can take in any one day.

The facts, Hastings.

This is of critical importance.

Charlotte and Mathew Davenheim have occupied separate bedrooms since the spring.

Ah!

And it is now the middle of October.

Bon.

And the bathroom cabinet?

You sure you want to hear all this?

Hastings, do you think I play the games?

"Two toothbrushes, one hairbrush, "one pot of skin cream, one bottle of liver pills, "one tube of toothpaste, one shaving brush, "one packet of razor blades, "one bottle of sleeping pills, one nasal spray, "one bottle of eye drops..." Thank you.

I have heard enough.

There's another two pages.

The evidence, it is complete.

Now, Hastings, Miss Lemon, I trust you have no monies deposited in the bank of Davenheim and Salmon?

- None.

- No, nor me.

Why?

Because I should advise you to withdraw it all, mon ami, before it is too late.

You think there's trouble looming?

I expect a big crash within the next few days, Miss Lemon, perhaps sooner.

So, if you please, a note to the Chief Inspector Japp.

Advise you to withdraw any monies deposited with the firm in question.

Hah!

Still he will not comprehend.

I'm not sure I comprehend.

Hastings, as I told you at the start, once all the facts were placed before me, the solution, it becomes inevitable.

JAPP: All right, how did you know?

Or are you going to tell me it was all done with mirrors?

You will permit me, my dear Chief Inspector, one moment longer of the suspense.

I have, as I promised, solved this mystery without leaving my apartment.

Well, so you say, but I'm still pretty much in the dark.

Very well.

I will simply draw your attention to three details which, taken together, are really quite conclusive.

One, what is significant about the period of time that Monsieur Davenheim spent during the winter in Johannesburg?

Two, why had he and his wife not been sleeping together in the same bed chamber from that moment on?

And three... ..what was in the bathroom cabinet belonging to Monsieur Davenheim which should never have been there?

Hm?

- I give up.

- I give up.

PARROT: I give up!

I give up!

Chief Inspector... this afternoon, you are staging the identity parade for the scoundrel Kellet to point out Monsieur Lowen.

I think you will find the results really... yes, quite surprising.

You will not object if I leave the confines of my apartment to witness the conclusion of our wager?

PARROT WHISTLES All right, Sergeant.

In your own time, if you would now.

This is him.

He threw the ring into the ditch.

Why, you miserable...

HE YELLS You filthy little liar!

You killed Davenheim!

HE SHOUTS Admit it!

Admit it!

You grubby, filthy little cheat!

JAPP: Take him away!

So now, what do you make of that, Poirot?

I'd say Lowen's as good as shopped himself.

On the contrary, my dear Chief Inspector, a mere moment of the hot-headed rage.

Monsieur Gerald Lowen could not be more innocent in this whole bizarre affair.

Couldn't he?

Well, perhaps it's about time you explained to us what the hell is going on!

KNOCK AT DOOR Ah!

Mrs Charlotte Davenheim, sir.

- Monsieur Poirot... POIROT: Madame.

I came as soon as I could.

Well, what is it?

If you've found anything out, then for God's sake, please... SHE GASPS POIROT: Stop him!

All right, then, Kellet, so what's all this about?

Or perhaps I should ask you that question?

Mais certainement, my dear Chief Inspector.

I think that this charade has gone on quite long enough.

Has it not?

Gentlemen, may I present to you the missing merchant banker Mathew Davenheim.

Damn you... ..you... Belgian!

JAPP: Take him to the cells.

From the start, I was intrigued by Monsieur Davenheim buying of the priceless jewellery for his wife.

For years, you see, he had been embezzling vast sums of money from his own bank.

Draining it to death, as we have seen, and converting the spoils into the gems which he stores in the safe.

So, he'd always planned to abscond with them, right from the very start?

Having first very cleverly pre-arranged for his hated arch-rival in the City, Monsieur Gerald Lowen, to be at his house on that day... ..so that he would become the chief suspect in this unfortunate affair.

So, Davenheim had already forced his own safe open before he left the house that day?

Using the good Monsieur Tchaikovsky as his accomplice.

MUSIC: '1812 Overture' by Tchaikovsky POIROT: 'Cunningly, he uses the cannon fire in the music 'to mask any sound that would have alerted his wife.

'Having made it look as if the safe has been broken into, 'he steals his own money and jewels... '..because he believes he has found for himself 'until all has blown over the most perfect place to hide.'

In prison.

You see, during the winter, when he was supposedly in Johannesburg, Monsieur Davenheim was in fact creating the character of Billy Kellet, spending the three months in jail.

'He returns to the racetrack to steal the wallet 'knowing he would be caught, and put once again behind bars.

'No-one will suspect a thing.

'Of course, he always meant for you 'to find in his pocket the ring, 'so he could use it to further incriminate 'Monsieur Gerald Lowen.'

And the contents of the bathroom cabinet?

The razor blades, Hastings.

'When resuming his identity, 'Monsieur Davenheim was forced to wear the false beard.

'To share the same bed chamber as his wife 'would certainly lead to detection.

'In fact, he was still shaving from time to time 'in order to become Billy Kellet again.'

PARROT WOLF-WHISTLES Just so no-one can say I'm not a man to honour my word.

Ah... Mon pauvre Japp.

It's like robbing a baby.

PARROT: Robbing a baby.

However, it is small remuneration for the seven days' enforced confinement to my own home, having to listen to the non-stop demented squawks and the screechings.

Hm.

Mais, madame et messieurs, I want you to observe something very closely.

PARROT: No!

PARROT SQUAWKS PARROT SQUEAKS Hello!

Ah, well... at least it was worth a try.

PARROT: Worth a try, worth a try.

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