Agatha Christie's Poirot

23.976

It doesn't have to be a masterpiece, Ariadne.

No, no. I'm going to take my time. Last one looked like it'd had a stroke.

How're we doing, girls? Grand, grand!

Sharp now. The children are arriving! You will stay for the party, Mrs Oliver?

Well, I'm not feeling too well actually -

Won't go on long. You know what children are like. They get so giddy. That suit you?

Erm -

Excellent! First rate! They'll be thrilled to meet you, I'm sure.

Well, must get on. Time's wing'd whatsit, eh?

- Rather a force of nature, Mrs Drake. - Hmmm...

It is very good of you to muck in like this, Ariadne. And your talk tomorrow -

Ah well, I've been meaning to have a word with you about that, Judith.

I'm not feeling too clever.

I hope you've not picked up Miranda's cold.

Such a shame she couldn't come to the party. She was so looking forward to it.

- Bless you. - Thank you.

...which followed President Rosevelt's speech earlier on today.

That is the end of the news.

- Are you sitting comfortably? - No...

Good! We wouldn't want that, would we? Not on a dark and stormy night like this one!

We shall have to keep an eye on you, Mrs Oliver!

There'll be no apples left to bob with!

My besetting sin, I'm afraid. I can't resist them.

All this must have set Mrs Drake back a bob or two.

The year's on the turn, vicar. Must we freeze yet again?

Alas, I'm afraid the heating at St Wulfric's packed up ages ago.

Maybe you should try wearing an extra woolly?

It's all right for you in that cassock.

Bet you're got up like Scott of the bloody Antarctic under that lot.

- Oh, bless you. - Oh I do beg your pardon.

No, no, no. It's my fault.

I'm always in the way.

Mrs Reynolds. LocaI martyr.

Frances, did you ask Cook to soak the raisins?

- Of course I did, Ma. - Do pace yourself, darling.

Sun's well over the yard-arm, mother-mine.

Come on, Edmund. Lend a hand, for God's sake.

I'm rather absorbed as it happens.

Roderick Usher has just found his sister bricked up.

"We have put her living in the tomb!" It's awfully good.

Well, I'm more concerned with the Fall of the House of Drake,

at the moment, so stir your stumps!

Joyce Reynolds! You duffer! What do you think you're doing?

- Sorry, Miss, I'm sure. - That's alright.

Look at the poor pumpkin!

Joyce smashed the pumpkin! Joyce smashed the pumpkin!

Go and boiI your head, Leopold.

Mind out Joyce!

Oh, bravo Leopold!

Now, who's next? Patience, Cathie. Everyone will get a turn.

- Anny, come on! - ... it'll be your turn.

Leave that, Mrs Reynolds. The party's not over yet. You enjoy yourself.

Oh I don't mind. I like to help out.

All right, all right, who's next?

Mrs Drake says you're a writer. The one who does the murder stories?

Yes.

- You must make a lot of money out of it. - A bit.

That's not very polite, is it, Joyce?

And you've got a detective who's a Finn, haven't you?

- Sven Hjerson. - Why a Finn?

I've often wondered.

- I saw a murder once. - Now don't be silly, Joyce.

- I did. - Oh really?

Of course you didn't see a murder. Don't say such foolish things, dear.

Has everyone had a go at the apples, vicar?

- Yes, all, it seems, but... - I did see a murder! I did! I did!

What kind of murder, you ridiculous creature?

She's making it up. Again!

I'm not. I saw one.

We're going to play Snapdragon next. It's great fun.

It wasn't really till a long time afterwards, I mean,

that I began to realise it was a murder I saw.

That's more a Christmassy thing, isn't it?

Well, we Drakes always play it at Hallowe'en.

Why didn't you go to the coppers then?

Because I didn't know at the time that it was a murder.

Is that the one where you have to pluck fruit out of a bowI or something?

That's right. Raisins. Soaked in liquor.

- Yes. - Bit like Frances.

- Ha, ha. - Then set fire to. In the dark.

Of course, now I'm older, I know that it was a murder I saw!

Utterly potty. When was all this supposed to have happened?

Years ago. I was quite young at the time.

- You're young now, you nit. - Who murdered whom?

I shan't tell any of you now. You're all so beastly.

Poor Miranda. She's missing a smashing party.

Oh my God! Gave me the shock of my -

Who's there? What is it? Miss Whittaker?

Thought I saw...

Just the wind, I expect.

A feeling of sick dread came over me as I gazed upon that dreadfuI countenance.

At that obscene parody of a human face.

Even as I watched, his blood-shot eyeball began to roll down the livid green skin!

"FooI!" he hissed. "Insect!...

Not enjoying it, sir?

The subject matter, Georges. It is... distastefuI.

...I am eviI!

Poirot has seen much eviI in this world. It should not be the subject of such mockery.

Oh it's just a bit of fun, sir. I love a good blood-curdler, me.

And very appropriate for the time of year.

George, at this time of year in Belgium,

it is the custom to light the candles in memory of the dead.

Not to tell the stories macabre.

I grieve for your carpet, Mrs Drake. There's water everywhere.

It'll set you back quite a bit to get it spruced up.

Oh, it's old, vicar. Not to worry.

- Now what? - Jehovah's Witnesses?

It's Hallowe'en for young and old!

Now, who would like their fortune told?

All the bells and whistles, I see. Woodleigh Common's very own witch.

Ma won't like this! Mrs Goodbody was certainly not invited.

Mummy?

Yes, dear, very good. You should be in films. Now come along.

We don't want any unpleasantness in front of the children. Now come along.

- No, but I want to stay. - Come along.

For the kiddies! For the kiddies!

Everybody ready, now! Come along! Yes, come on. Into the parlour.

Come on now. Snap dragon time.

That's it. Quickly.

Take care you don't take too much, Be not greedy in your clutch. Snip! Snap! Dragon!

With his blue and lapping tongue Many of you will be stung. Snip! Snap! Dragon!

For he snaps at all that comes, Snatching at his feast of plums. Snip! Snap! Dragon!

Shut the door!

Oh, dear, you're drenched.

What a clumsy thing you must think of me.

No, no, it can happen to us all.

Mustn't let the children run about in their stockinged feet.

I'll get a brush. Mrs baker!

Snip! Snap! Dragon!

Very well, every one! That's your last go!

Oh, yes. Come along now, it's ten o'clock!

It's way past most of your bed-times! Time to go home now. Come along now. Home, home.

Would you all be dears and round up the little waifs and strays?

Some of the older ones gravitate to the cloakrooms and what have you.

Whatever for?

What have you, I should think.

Has anyone seen my Joycie?

I'll do a head count.

- Hercule Poirot speaks. - Oh, thank God you're in!

- My friend Ariadne. - Yes. Yes, it's me.

But you are breathless. What is the matter? Something it has upset you?

Upset me? Dear God.

I shall never be able to look at another apple again.

- Glorious, isn't it? - Oui.

The leaves are like gold.

No, no. I meant the mucky old window and the dusty seats!

The pervasive odour of Capstan Navy Cut and schooI-boys' socks.

I see you have been out of England some little time, Monsieur.

Fresh off the boat. From Athens. Superb.

But I do miss the old country.

- Heading far? - Woodleigh Common.

Me too! How very nice. I live there, as a matter of fact.

- Indeed? - Mm.

For how long, may I ask?

About three years. Came to do a garden. Never left.

That's what I do. Gardens. Creation thereof.

A very beautifuI part of the world.

- MichaeI Garfield. - Hercule Poirot.

- Well, there's a turn up! - Oui.

- Good to know you, monsieur. - Je vous emprie.

- On pleasure bent, I trust? - Indeed, no.

- No? - Non.

Regardez.

Good God. Poor kid.

Oui d'accord. The murder of a child it is a crime so terrible, n'est pas?

Have they got anyone for it?

Non. And this little girI Joyce, she was known to you?

No, no, I couldn't claim to know her but

seen her around the place I expect.

So you'll be coming round to give everyone the third degree then?

Perhaps.

In the mean time, I wonder, some advice, s'iI vous plait?

Yes. Fire away.

If I were to seek out the locaI, how do you call it?

The chitter-chatter, oui, the locaI gossip. To whom should I go?

Monsieur?

Tell me. Do you believe in witches?

My God, as it is melancholy.

What?

I mean, clearing up after a party is always a bit of a chore

but when one's had a murder it feels so very parochiaI.

- Stop trying to be clever. - I don't have to try, Edmund.

Stop it, both of you!

- Sorry, Mummy. - Sorry, Mummy...

It's bad enough that this terrible thing happened in our house

without you two snapping at one another like a couple of terriers.

You know who the police will be straight onto, of course.

What the hell do you mean?

Well, they hauled you in when that grubby little crook got himself killed.

And they couldn't find anything to pin on me then either, could they, Edmund?

What are you doing, mummy?

Oh just old clutter.

Lots of things I should have got rid of long ago.

I'd rather you stayed in, Miranda. You're still off-colour, and besides -

I know what you're going to say.

There really is a maniac on the loose. Will you stay indoors? For me?

Of course I will. I have to telephone Cathie, though -

- Mademoiselle? - Who are you?

- Hercule Poirot. - Oh hello.