NEWSREEL FANFARE NEWSREADER: 'British pies are famous the world over.

'And last year, Farley's Foods produced five million of 'em.

'Everything from steak and kidney 'to Cornish pasties.

'But that's not enough for old man Farley.

'He wants to double the score.

'Work's been pushing ahead 'on the new extension to his factory.

'And this week the great day dawned.'

NEWSREEL FINALE QUICK MARCH PLAYING STAFF APPLAUDS SILENCE My friends.

I hope I may call you "my friends".

After all, I pay your wages!

SCATTERED LAUGHTER In 1935, we sold more pies than at any time in our history.

Yet, there are those amongst you, politically motivated, who still try to say that you are not doing well.

Don't listen to them.

OVER SPEAKER: 'And now, 'let us move on to happier things.

'Once more I stand before you here, 'to open yet another new wing 'of our great enterprise.'

MAN: Joanna!

- SOFTLY: Aah.

JOANNA MOANS Why didn't you call me yesterday?

You mustn't come here.

I've got to see you.

It's no good, Joanna.

What isn't?

What do you mean?

I've been given two weeks' notice.

By my father?

Not directly.

But, yes.

Why?

Because he's found out about us, of course.

SHE INHALES, EXHALES SHARPLY I've got to go.

Oh, God!

I like to think there has been a partnership, a partnership between the Farley family, and... and we humble mortals in the municipality.

There are other jobs, Herbert.

Not with your father's bad opinion following me wherever I go.

- I could kill him.

I could really kill him!

Talking like that doesn't do any good.

Er, and now, it gives me great pleasure, er, to declare this new wing, er, well and truly open.

LEVER CLICKING, ALL APPLAUDING BAND MUSIC CONTINUES CONVEYOR WHIRRING VEHICLE HORN HONKING CHILD TALKING INDISTINCTLY TYPEWRITER KEYS CLACKING Bother!

- "This is your chance..." - What?

"This is your chance to invest in "a pair of Home-phit, real leather shoes."

That's clever.

Fit's spelt with a PH.

HE CHUCKLES "Just return this card "and our representatives will call on you."

Made-to-measure shoes, apparently.

Seem awfully reasonable.

I don't suppose they have any made-to-measure typewriters in there, have they?

Sorry?

Ever since last Easter, I've been asking Mr Poirot for a new typewriter.

Mr Poirot isn't mean but he is careful.

We found this typewriter in the flat when he moved in.

Someone had left it.

Jolly useful.

Who's Benedict Farley?

- I've no idea.

TYPEWRITER KEYS CLACKING Oh, isn't he Farley's Pies?

- "Pies?"

- Why?

"Dear Sir, Mr Benedict Farley "would like to have the benefit of your advice.

"If convenient to yourself, we would be glad "if you would you call upon him "at the above address at 9.30 tomorrow, "Thursday evening.

"Yours truly, Hugo Cornworthy, Secretary.

"PS Please bring this letter with you."

Repeat that, if you please, Hastings.

- "Dear Sir..." - No, no, no.

Just the postscript.

"PS Please bring this letter with you."

Mm-hm.

- Why?

- "Why?"

Why, Hastings?

HE EXHALES An interesting letter.

Is it?

I thought it was rather dull.

Miss Lemon says he makes pies.

"Makes pies?"

Hastings, to say that Benedict Farley makes pies is like saying that... Wagner wrote semiquavers.

They're good pies, are they?

No, horrible.

But there are a great many of them.

STEAM HISSING HISSING STOPS The fons et origo of Benedict Farley's wealth, I surmise, eh?

And that, Hastings, is where he makes his sausages, his pies, his hams.

Useful, eh?

Living above the shop?

I suppose from here Farley likes to keep an eye on his employees.

POIROT: No doubt.

But it is a pity that such diligence does not improve... DOORBELL RINGS ..the quality of his so-called "delectables".

Good evening.

- Good evening, sir.

HASTINGS: Monsieur Poirot and Captain Hastings to see Mr Farley.

I'm sorry, sir, I was instructed to admit only one.

Oh, come now!

I was instructed most positively, sir.

I'm sorry.

POIROT: You know, this is most inconvenient.

If you will excuse me, sir, I was told to ask for a letter.

Pardon?

Oh, yes, er... Ah!

Thank you, sir.

KNOCK AT DOOR Yeah?

The gentleman you are expecting, sir.

CHAIR CREAKS Ah... ..you're Hercule Poirot, eh?

- Monsieur.

- Sit down.

Sit down!

HE SPEAKS FRENCH What is it that you wish to consult me about, Monsieur Farley?

I have this same dream... night after night.

I'm sitting in my room next to this... ..sitting at my desk writing.

There's a clock in there.

I look up at it, I see the time.

It is exactly 28 minutes past twelve.

Always the same time.

You understand?

When I see the time, Poirot...

..I know I've got to do it.

At 28 minutes past twelve...

..I open the second drawer down on the right of my desk.

I take out a revolver, I load it, and I go over to the window.

And then?

I shoot myself.

I just lift the gun to my head... ..and shoot myself.

What do you make of that?

I've already consulted a specialist in the Harley Street.

And what does this specialist tell you?

INDIGNANTLY: He was preposterous.

He asserted my life is so unbearable to me, I deliberately want to end it.

He is a fool.

Why should I wanna kill myself?

One of the richest men in the country, I have everything I could possibly want.

I am a happy man.

Mm.

So, where do I come in, Monsieur Farley?

Supposing someone wants to kill me... ..could they do it this way?

Hypnotism, you mean?

You see what I'm getting at.

Who is it that you suspect of wanting to kill you, monsieur?

Nobody, nobody at all.

You had no-one specific in mind?

- Certainly not.

- Oh.

I should like to see the scene of this drama.

The desk, the clock, the revolver... No, I've told you all there is to tell.

There's nothing to see next door.

Nevertheless, I should like to see f...

There is no need.

I just want your opinion.

But I can hardly have an opinion on such skimpy evidence.

There's an end of it, then.

I have told you the facts, you can't make anything of it.

That closes the matter.

You can send me in your bill for a consultation fee.

I shall not fail to do so.

FOOTSTEPS RECEDE Wait.

That letter, I want it.

The letter from your secretary?

Yes.

Er... Mm.

Thank you.

PAPER RUSTLING Oh!

A thousand pardons, monsieur.

- What?

I have committed a folly, eh.

HE CHUCKLES The letter I handed you just now, it was a letter from my landlord.

This is your letter.

Why the devil can't you watch what you're doing?

- Er...

HE SPEAKS FRENCH HE SIGHS THOUGHTFULLY CAR DOOR CLOSES, POIROT SIGHS - How did you get on in there?

- Er... ..not well, I'm afraid.

There is something wrong in that house, Hastings.

Badly wrong.

And I haven't the faintest idea what it is.

ENGINE TURNS OVER BUGLE HORN HOOTING DOOR OPENING Get off, boy.

I want these documents in Leadenhall Street by one o'clock.

Well, go on, then.

Run!

MAN: Er, excuse me, sir.

Mr Cornworthy said you might spare us a moment.

Hmm?

What's going on?

Twelve o'clock he said.

SOFTLY: All right, all right.

He's a very busy man.

Now let's just sit down.

And relax.

CLOCK TICKING DOOR CLICKS OPEN Mr Cornworthy... Mr Tremlett!

You still here?

We've been here an hour, nearly.

Over an hour.

Well, I'll... WATCH LID CLICKS ..go and see what he's up to.

He's got to sign these anyway.

Bloody nerve!

That's our dinner hour gone, I know that.

He'll see us now.

CORNWORTHY: Good God!

For God's sake, someone...

HE STAMMERS VOICELESSLY Send for the police!

I can't go on like this, Mr Poirot.

That machine is more than flesh and blood can stand.

But you have never complained before.

I've done nothing but complain for the last six months!

- No.

- It has been mentioned, Poirot.

Kindly do not band together against Poirot.

I wasn't.

POIROT STAMMERS Do I not do my best to keep us all happy?

I don't want to be happy.

I just want a new... TELEPHONE RINGS Poirot.

Ah!

Inspector Japp.

My old friend.

I'm at Northway House, Poirot, Benedict Farley's place.

I'd like you to come over, if you'd be so kind.

'Mr Farley has shot himself.'

POIROT: Most peculiar story I ever heard.

JOANNA: I've never heard such poppycock.

Father had no use for dreams and such rubbish!

Nevertheless, that is what he told me.

Yes, he... he mentioned it to me.

It upset him very much.

SHE EXHALES I told him it was indigestion, I'm afraid.

I suggested to his calling in Dr Stillingfleet.

He never did.

From Monsieur Poirot's story, I gather he went to Harley Street.

Mm, yes, he told me he consulted a specialist.

But, is it known who this specialist was?

None of us had any idea that he'd consulted anyone.

And he never spoke to you about the dream?

- No.

- Hmm.

And you, Monsieur Cornworthy?

No, he said nothing about it at all.

I took down a letter to you at his dictation but I have no idea why he wanted to consult you.

I thought it might have something to do with some business irregularity.

- Hmm.

I see.

Inspector Japp... ..can you tell me the events leading up to the death of Monsieur Benedict Farley?

Well, Mr Farley had agreed to see two representatives from the works.

There was a proposal for forming a union.

CORNWORTHY CLEARS THROAT Some hopes.

- Yes.

Quite so.

A little before one o'clock, Mr Cornworthy here, came out of his room and went in to Mr Farley.

- Mm.

He couldn't see him at first and thought the room was empty.

Then he caught sight of a boot sticking out from behind the desk.

SHE CRIES SHE SIGHS IN FRUSTRATION And what happened then?

CRYING CONTINUES I ran out of the room and I told the butler to call Dr Stillingfleet.

And... ..he did.

The body was found down there.

Thank you.

At what time did he die, Doctor?

I examined the body at 32 minutes past one.

Mr Farley had been dead at least one hour.

So he could have died at this 12.28 he told you about.

Precisely.

Were there any fingerprints on the revolver?

- Only his own.

- Mm.

And, please, tell me about the revolver itself.

Well, it was the one he kept in the drawer of his desk, again just as he told you.

Mrs Farley has identified it positively.

- I see.

- What's more, that's the only entrance to the room.

Well, apart from the windows, I suppose.

MACHINERY CLANKING I cannot see how anybody could climb up there.

JAPP: It's a funny room for a rich man to choose as his study, isn't it?

With that great, ugly, blank wall right outside.

POIROT: I think it is important, that wall.

You mean psychologically?

Perhaps.

"At 28 minutes past twelve...

"..I open the second drawer down on the right of my desk."

DRAWER GRATES "I take out the revolver... "..load it.

"I go over to the window... "..and then... "..and then I shoot myself.

"I just lift the gun to my head... "..and shoot myself."

I should not have thought that there is any reason for you to doubt the accuracy of the dream's prediction, Inspector.

In fact, there is every reason to suggest that Benedict Farley committed suicide.

Well, there'd be no doubt about it at all, but for one point.

And what was that?

The letter written to you.

Ah, I see.

So where Hercule Poirot is concerned, there arises immediately the suspicion of murder?

Precisely.

SWORD WHOOSHES Touche.

SHE INHALES SHARPLY SWORD WHOOSHES Touche.

SWORD CLATTERS SWORD SWISHES SWORD SWISHES, SHE EXHALES Hello, Monsieur Poirot.

Fancy your chances?

- Er, no, no, no.

Thank you very much, mademoiselle but essentially Hercule Poirot is a... a man of peace.

HE CHUCKLES But perhaps I could ask you a few questions?

Ask away.

Did you know your father kept a revolver in his desk?

No.

Oh.

Where were you and your mother... Oh.

Pardon, that is to say "your stepmother".

That is correct?

Yes, Louise is my father's second wife.

She's only eight years older than I am.

So where were you and she on Thursday night of last week?

Thursday... We went to the theatre to see Thumbs Up.

Your father did not suggest accompanying you?

He never went out to theatres.

He was not a very sociable man?

My father had a singularly unpleasant personality.

That is a very candid statement, mademoiselle I'm saving you time, Monsieur Poirot I realise quite well what you're getting at.

I live here because I have no money to live elsewhere.

There is a man that I wish to marry, a poor man.

My father saw to it that he lost his job.

He wanted me, you see, to marry well.

An easy matter since I was his heiress.

So your father's fortune passes to you?

- Yes.

Well, that is to say he left Louise, my stepmother a quarter of a million free of tax and there are a few small legacies but the residue of it goes to me.

So, you see, Monsieur Poirot, I had every reason to desire my father's death.

I see also, mademoiselle, that you have inherited your father's intelligence.

Mm.

Father was clever but it had all turned sour.

There was no humanity left.

Is there anything more?

Yes.

How poor was your father's eyesight?

He could scarcely see at all, or not without his glasses.

His sight had always been bad from a boy.

But with his glasses?

Oh, he could see all right then, of course.

Thank you.

All right, Constable.

Tell Sergeant Bull this is gonna take longer than expected.

- Right, sir.

Ah, Mrs Farley... ..something I'd like to ask you.

- Yes?

Had your husband ever been hypnotised?

Never, to my knowledge.

Was he interested in that sort of thing?

Hypnotism?

- No.

SHE SIGHS EXASPERATEDLY That horrible dream!

It's uncanny.

To dream that same awful dream, night after night, it's as though he were hounded to his death.

Had it ever occurred to you that your husband might be tempted do away with himself?

No.

Well, sometimes he... he was rather queer.

Poppycock!

Father was far too fond of himself ever to commit suicide.

You don't know everything, Joanna.

I know that much.

Pardon, Madame Farley.

How many pairs of glasses did your husband own?

"Glasses?"

Er, well, spectacles.

I've no idea.

Three?

Four?

Ah!

Thank you.

KNOCK AT DOOR Yeah, come in.

DOOR OPENS Ah, mon dieu, how different this room looks in daylight!

Can I do something for you?

And I see, monsieur, that you share the same inspiring view as your late employer.

Oh, yes.

On the other side of that wall are the fools.

Er, who made Mr Farley's wealth for him.

I think that's why he chose to have his study this side of the house.

I see.

You know, I feel sure, if that wall could talk, it would tell us something, no?

CORNWORTHY: Hmm.

POIROT CHUCKLES Monsieur Cornworthy, when I arrived last Thursday evening, I was not shown into Mr Farley's own room.

No.

I was told to tell Holmes to show you in here.

Why was that, do you think?

I never questioned any of Mr Farley's orders.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

Did he usually receive the visitors in here?

Quite often.

Particularly, if people hadn't come to the house before.

I see.

Mm.

Thank you, Monsieur Cornworthy.

Inspector, this dream of Benedict Farley is very important.

He dreamed, he said, of committing suicide and later on he DID commit suicide.

When I say "suicide", he was alone in his room and was found with a gun in his hand.

And no-one entered or left the room at the time he was shot.

So what does this mean, Chief Inspector?

Well, that there's no other possibility.

Then it must be suicide.

- Au contraire.

It means a very unusual and very cleverly planned murder.

Planned how?

Planned by whom?

Oh, it is no good, is it, Chief Inspector, if I just give you the answer?

- Well... - No.

We must give the little grey cells time to do their work, mm.

And give Poirot time to work out who did it and how.

HE SIGHS IN FRUSTRATION HE CLICKS TONGUE This is not like you, Poirot.

But this is not like the grey cells, Hastings!

I have given them every chance.

They have been cosseted.

I have slept to allow them to do their work.

I have eaten fish for breakfast.

Result?

Nothing!

It'll come, Poirot.

The little grey cells have never let you down yet.

Mm.

But is this not an indication, perhaps, of what is in store?

A sign that they are weakened by old age and the fast living.

"Fast living," Poirot?

I wouldn't call your life exactly fast.

Well, not now, perhaps, Hastings, but... in my youth.

- Really?

- Oh!

Really?

You see, one pays, Hastings.

Eventually, one is called to settle one's account.

I say!

Mm.

HE BREATHES DEEPLY I should have another tisane.

Bother!

Mr Poirot, I... CROCKERY TINKLING What is it, Mr Poirot?

Another tisane, if you please, Miss Lemon.

Oh, dear, you had your nine o'clock one.

Ah.

Serious measures are called for, Miss Lemon.

Oh, diable!

Do you have the time, please, Miss Lemon?

Of course, Mr Poirot.

HE MUMBLES INDISTINCTLY What are you doing, Miss Lemon?

It's five to ten, Mr Poirot.

But what were you doing out there?

If I lean right out, I can just see the church clock.

But would it not be simpler to wear the watch?

I can't, Mr Poirot.

My magnetism upsets them.

I say!

All my life I've been looking for a watch that won't go wild as soon as I put it on but I never had... What ever is the matter, Mr Poirot?

Miss Lemon... you are beautiful!

Now, would you please be so kind as to telephone the Chief Inspector Japp and ask him to assemble the whole Farley household at noon.

In the hall, eh?

Come, Hastings, we have work to do.

All has become clear.

TREMLETT: Er, then they're brought in here from the pastry room and loaded into the ovens.

The ovens have got to be sealed and closed by 12.15, because we start the bake at... at 12.30 sharp.

If, er, we haven't done that, Mr Farley was on the telephone quicker than you could say "three little piggies".

HE CHUCKLES Did he come regularly to the factory?

Oh, no.

No, he hadn't done that for, er...

HE SUCKS TEETH ..ooh, six or seven years.

Well, not regularly.

Er, but he seemed to know if we hadn't started the bake on time.

In the office, we used to say he had second sight as far as a pork pie was concerned.

HE CHUCKLES That was just by way of a joke.

Then, erm, after the bake, which takes about an hour and a half, we take them out from the ovens and then they go round the corner...

BIRDS CHIRPING POIROT: Now, remember what I told you.

Yes.

Is it loaded?

Oh, yes.

DOOR CLOSES Here he comes.

Bonjour.

I wonder... what is the most extraordinary thing about this case, hmm?

Well, the dream, I'd say.

If we hadn't got your word for it, Poirot... Exactement.

The telling of the dream was vital.

But, mes amis, there is more to it than that.

Where did this telling of the dream take place?

Monsieur Benedict Farley received me here in his secretary's room and refused, point blank, to let me see into his own room just a few feet away.

Why did he do that, huh?

Because there was something in that room he could not afford to have me see.

- What?

- We will come to that.

When Monsieur Benedict Farley asked me to return his letter to him, by inadvertence I handed to him the correspondence from my landlord.

One glance should have told him it was a wrong letter.

Didn't he have his glasses on?

Oh, yes, he had on his glasses.

So, why did Monsieur Benedict Farley not realise the difference between two totally dissimilar letters, huh?

Because, mes amis, I was in the company of a man with normal eyesight wearing powerful glasses.

And such powerful glasses would render a man of normal eyesight practically blind.

Is that not so, Doctor?

If they were very powerful spectacles, yes.

Eh bien!

So why was I not allowed to go into Monsieur Benedict Farley's room that night?

What was in Monsieur Benedict Farley's room that I was not allowed to see?

Mesdames et messieurs, shall I enlighten you?

- I wish you would, Poirot.

- Very well.

Poirot shall enlighten you.

What was in Monsieur Farley's own room that Monsieur Benedict Farley did not allow me to see was... ..Monsieur Benedict Farley.

Good God!

Yesterday afternoon... ..there are three witnesses to swear that no-one comes in or out of Monsieur Benedict Farley's room.

Monsieur Cornworthy is in his room next door and as 12.28 approaches, he readies himself.

You see... ..Monsieur Cornworthy knows something that very few other people know.

Hmm?

He knows that Monsieur Benedict Farley, every day, after all these years, still interested in the day-to-day running of his factory, checks up on his employees.

Let us see how he does this.

How can this "King of Pies" observe his workers without ever leaving this house, huh?

Simple.

You see... ..the uninviting delicacy is first steamed for one hour before it is baked.

And the release valves on the vast ovens, which are situated beyond that wall, are briefly tested as soon as the ovens are loaded.

Mm.

HE CLICKS TONGUE Eh bien.

If one leans out of this window, one can readily confirm this fact.

STEAM HISSES Now... ..if you please, I want you all to come to these two windows, lean out, and look to your right.

Monsieur Cornworthy, why don't you lead the way, hmm?

- This is nonsense.

POIROT: Perhaps.

But humour me.

HE SPEAKS FRENCH Madame Farley.

Oh, very well.

Now, one can readily see that spurt of steam issuing from the chimney or pipe at the eastern end of the building, voila.

All the same, I don't see where that gets us.

Monsieur Farley comes to the window.

Yes.

He leans out to make sure the bake is starting on time.

All right.

And then...

GUNSHOT Monsieur Cornworthy shoots him and Farley falls to the floor.

SHE INHALES SHARPLY Remember, there is a blank wall opposite, so there can be no witnesses.

Lies.

Ridiculous lies.

All has the appearance of being above the board, yes.

Monsieur Tremlett and the other men see Monsieur Cornworthy go into Monsieur Farley's room but rush out again with the announcement of Monsieur Farley's suicide.

What they do not of course see is Monsieur Cornworthy press the gun into Monsieur Farley's hand.

Slanderous rubbish!

It was Monsieur Cornworthy who wrote me the letter.

Monsieur Cornworthy who gave instructions to the butler.

It was he who went up to his bedroom, applied the make-up and played the part of Benedict Farley.

But there were two people who carried through this fraud.

Monsieur Cornworthy was one, and the other... ..Madame Farley.

How dare you!

POIROT: In due course, the happy ending would have been achieved.

A quarter of a million pounds and two hearts that beat as one.

Hastings, stop him!

BOTH GRUNT WOMEN EXCLAIM Stop him, Herbert!

Stop him!

What?

Oh, right.

ENGINE TURNS OVER, REVVING CORNWORTHY GRUNTS MOTORBIKE CRASHES, PEOPLE CLAMOURING CORNWORTHY GRUNTING - Well done, sir!

- That's Herbert.

I've come to elope.

It... it's still on, is it?

It's not, strictly speaking, necessary any more.

Oh.

Well, we could do it anyway, though.

If you like.

- Yes.

CORNWORTHY GRUNTS What shall I do with him?

I'll deal with him, sir, thank you very much.

Au revoir, Madame Farley.

You foreigner!

- Good afternoon, sir.

- Good afternoon.

Oh... Can I assist you in any way, sir?

- Thank you.

- Thank you.

- Thank you.

- Thank you.

- Thank you, sir.

- Thank you.

DOORBELL BUZZES, TYPEWRITER KEYS CLACKING Can I give you a breather with that?

No, no, no.

Thank you, Hastings.

HE GRUNTS I'm sure I can manage the last five paces.

- Mr Poirot, let me help you.

- No, no, no, Miss Lemon.

HE PANTS This is for you.

Oh, Mr Poirot, you shouldn't have.

No, no, no.

Nonsense, Miss Lemon.

Hastings, if you please, the knife.

Merci.

HE SPEAKS FRENCH Voila!

SHE SCOFFS SOFTLY Well, what do you think, eh, Miss Lemon?

- It's... - Wonderful.

MISS LEMON: It's... - Now... we shall have no more leaning dangerously out of the window to tell the time, yes?

Yes, it's just what I wanted.

Hastings.

There are two reasons why I should never become the millionaire.

What are they, Poirot?

The first.

That I should never make the detestable pork pies, huh?

And the second...

I am too understanding towards my employees.

HE CLICKS TONGUE Quite.

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