Miss Jane Marple, gentlemen.
- Oh, my dear Miss Marple. - How do you do, Bishop?
- Now this is your chair. - Thank you. I am indeed honoured.
Cecil Ffolly Hardwicke. Sir Geoffrey Bucknose.
- How do you do? - Lord Rudkin.
Now, my fellow trustees.
Our annual meeting tonight
is at once a sad and a joyous occasion.
Sad because of the recent demise of Rear Admiral, Sir Hubert Marple.
Joyous because in his stead we welcome his niece,
the granddaughter of our founder,
admiral of the fleet, Sir Bertram Marple.
- Hear, hear. Now, Bishop... - Please allow me a moment.
In Sir Bertram's own words,
the objective of this trust is to put backbone into young jellyfish.
Hence his purchase of that famous old wooden wall of England,
the Battledore, which has since served as a training ship
for young hooligans who might otherwise have gone to the devil.
Bishop, we all know this,
but I have something of importance to say.
So have I.
Madam, on this night your heart must be overflowing with pride
at the achievements of your family.
I can only say and from the bottom of my heart, welcome.
- Oh, Bishop. - Amen. Now...
Please, please, please.
Bishop, my fellow trustees.
I'm moved with the warmth of your welcome.
My heart is indeed filled with pride.
Forgive me, smoke does so get in one's eyes.
That's better.
Bishop, fellow trustees,
I am honoured to be one of you.
Would you take your finger out of my snuff box!
I beg your pardon.
How dreadful of me.
As I was about to say, with our steady hands at the helm,
I'm confident that the good ship Battledore
will continue to buffet her way through storm and tempest,
providing a safe haven for those who are in peril on the sea of life.
Thank you.
Gentlemen and lady, to the first item on our agenda...
Hang the first item, I insist on speaking.
Look here, Ffolly, why can't you raise it under any other business?
There won't be any other business
unless what I have to say is heard now and acted upon.
Well, it's most irregular, but very well.
Ffolly! Ffolly!
Was he exciting himself about something?
Well, yes, Dr Crump. He did seem to be a little...
Yes, I thought so.
The spirit was willing but the heart was not.
I'll deal with the police routine, they're just across the road.
Good night.
- Brisk young fellow. - Poor Ffolly.
I wonder what he was going to say.
He'd just paid a surprise visit to the Battledore.
He got back this very day as a matter of fact.
I wonder if he was going to fuss over the reception he got?
The captain, you know, does not encourage visitors.
What a beautiful way to be taken - unawares.
- Miss Pringle! - Oh, I say, not her too.
She has merely fainted.
I have some smelling salts in my bag.
Miss Marple, quickly, if you please.
Thank you very much.
Curious.
Empty.
Well, that's it, Inspector.
I'll give you the death certificate in the morning.
Thank you. Sorry about the old boy.
No need to be. A long life, money, four wives, a quick death...
What more can you want? I must go, I've got a baby waiting.
Good night.
Brisk sort of chap isn't he?
What? Bacon!
Is it absolutely necessary for you to creep about like this?
It's because I saw you creeping about that I am creeping about.
You don't know what occurred up there.
I do. What I don't know is why you're climbing out of windows?
Yes, well, that was because the poor man's snuff has been stolen.
Snuff?
Not the snuff box, though that is quite valuable, just the snuff.
Snuff... stolen?
- Quite, by an intruder. - Miss Marple, what on earth...?
Someone was lurking outside that window.
You mean a burglar?
What interest could our proceedings have for a burglar?
In any case, what kind of a burglar is it who steals snuff?
You must have had rather a severe shock tonight.
Now come with me, and Sergeant Bacon here will see you home in my car.
A good night's sleep and you'll be your old self.
Are you implying that I am unhinged?
- No, of course not. - Then what are you implying pray?
Well, just that you're temporarily not yourself.
Chief Inspector,
I am always myself.
- Did you get it? - Yes.
The chemist did question sulphuric acid,
but when he knew it was for you...
Yes, yes, thank you.
Now I think we can proceed.
I must confess, I'm at a loss to know what this is all about.
The doctor said he died of a heart attack.
- He did. - Then...
Patience, Jim. Patience!
- What is that? - Ffolly Hardwicke's snuff.
I thought it was all stolen.
Due to a slight contretemps earlier in the evening, I spilled some.
Fortunately, our thief overlooked it.
I see.
Now handkerchief to mouth for my first experiment, Mr Stringer.
- All clear, not cyanide. - Cyanide?
First a little of the solution,
then we add the catalyst, a few drops only.
Now we wait a moment.
- Not African boxwood. - Eh?
Gonioma kamassi.
The sawdust contains an alkaloid that resembles curare.
Pity. I had hopes of that.
Nil desperandum as my old science mistress used to say,
we try and try again.
Now if this changes colour...
- So that's what it was. - Er, what?
- Strychnine. - In his...
He was done away with through his nose.
- Good heavens! - Very original.
Very ingenious...
..or perhaps not so.
Propel me please, Jim.
Here we are. The Doom Box by J. Plantaganet Corby.
Here it is. Now listen.
'..and so m'lord', declared Sefton Harricott,
'Jacob Rushton did indeed suffer a heart attack,
but it was induced by a noxious substance in his snuff.'
- I'm beginning to... - Wait.
'The murderer', continued Harricott, 'made one error,
he didn't remove the incriminating residue from the snuff box.'
A mistake our murderer no doubt imagines he has not made.
Why should anyone want to do such a thing?
That, Mr Stringer, is the question.
Poor Mr Ffolly Hardwicke had just returned from our ship.
He had something important to say,
he never said it.
I wonder.
Yes! That's where the motive must lie.
Mr Stringer, there is something going on aboard the Battledore.
Goodness!
Ah, there she is!
Magnificent!
A real bit of history.
Pity anything so beautiful should hold the answer
to something as sordid as murder.
Here comes the long boat.
Well on time -
two minutes to two bells on the dogwatch.
Is this wise? Shouldn't we have tried to convince the Chief Inspector?
Policemen, Mr Stringer -
particularly our friend, Chief Inspector Craddock -
are only convinced by proven fact.
Once you're out there on the water, it'll be so easy.
A marlinspike in the dark, your body rolling in the scuppers,
a splash, carried out on the ebb tide...
My dear Jim, calm yourself.
I'm sorry, but I must insist on pointing out the dangers.
Are you going to help me or are you not?
- Well, yes, of course. - Thank you.
- Now you have your signal lamp? - Yes, yes.
Be sure to book a room overlooking the estuary.
- I suggest at that hotel. - Yes.
- You understand? - Yes.
Keep lookout at 11 o'clock tonight.
I shall pass on to you any evidence I've uncovered,
so that if anything untoward does happen,
you will be empowered to pursue the matter on your own.
That's all then I think.
I shall see you in the morning as arranged,
unless of course I find it necessary to contrive a longer stay on board,
but if the captain's all the Bishop says he is,
I will not be very welcome.
Miss Marple, I forbid you to...
Damn the torpedoes. Full speed ahead, Mr Stringer.
Thank you, laddie.
- Can I help you with your bag, sir? - Oh, no. No, thank you.
- May l? - Oh, certainly, ma'am.
Push off for'ard.
Give way together, lads.
Look at it. Will you look at it!
Reefer jacket, brass buttons, tricorn hat.
Who does she think she is? Neptune's mother?
All right, Connington. Pipe.
- Pipe. - Pipe.
- De Courcy Rhumstone, ma'am. - Marple, Captain.
Welcome aboard. May I introduce you to my officers?
- By all means. - Commander Breeze Connington, ma'am.
- How do you do? - Organisation and accounts.
Lieutenant Commander Dimchurch.
Navigation and seamanship.
Lieutenant Compton, ma'am.
Discipline and character building.
Sub-Lieutenant Humbert, madam.
Physical training.
- And? - We find that's quite enough, ma'am.
Assistant Matron Shirley Boston, ma'am.
Yes, and last but not least...
- Matron - first class - Fanbraid. - How do you do? First class!
Yes, yes. First class.
That went smoothly.
May l, on behalf of the rest of the crew,
offer our condolences on the loss of your fellow trustee.
Thank you very much.
Let's not waste time - here's my programme.
Just a minute. Humbert! Come here.
Thank you.
17:30 to 18:30 - that's hours...
Naturally.
..there's a tour of instructional classes,
15 minutes for a wash and brush up,
then 18:45 to 19:45 - drinks and cold collation in the wardroom.
20:00 to 21:00 - sea shanties by port watch of hands.
21:35 - I personally see you aboard the last bus to Milchester.
- I thought... - Excuse me.
- Miller? - Sir!
What are you doing with that?
- Carrying it, sir. - It's mine, Captain.
- Yours? - Yes. My seabag, you know.
Seabag? You're only staying a few hours, aren't you?
Well, I do feel it my duty, Captain, as a new trustee,
to be some little time with you.
I had hoped to spend the night.
Spend the night? Spend the night!
I'm terribly sorry, but it's entirely out of question.
Apart from anything else, there's no suitable quarters. I'm sorry.
Splendid quarters, Captain. So kind of you to give them up.
Not at all.
Yes, this will do splendidly I think.
Delightful view.
Delightful view, Captain.
Yes, I'm going to miss it.
Snuff.
I think that's about all then, madam.
A handsome blade, Captain.
- Yes, it is, isn't it? - Yes.
It was given to my great grandfather after the Battle of Trafalgar.
- Really? - I've never been parted with it.
I see.
Good. Yes, well, I'll see you on the poop in about 10 minutes then.
- Captain. - Yes, madam.
- Haven't you forgotten something? - I don't think so.
Surely you want your snuff?
Oh, yes, thank you. Thank you very much.
- Allow me. - Oh, thank you.
I wonder if you'd mind...
Thank you. No, you can have that on me.
- In memory of Trafalgar. - How very kind of you.
Thank you.
Oh, heavens!
I hope I'm not giving too much trouble?
No, of course not, madam.
After all, it is for only one night... isn't it?
What a waste.
What a diabolical waste!
Oh, come on everyone. Cheer up!
It's only for one night.
The captain and his visitor will be here soon,
for heaven's sake, let's create a good impression.
Sir, Eric and I were going to the Ellington's party!
Bingley Castle - the party of the year!
Darling, there's always another night and tomorrow night I'm free.
If you want trouble, Compton, now isn't the time.
Darling, please!
I do agree, Muscles. I do so agree.
Compton!
Stop this.
Miss Marple's presence here at least ensures we shall eat hearty tonight.
- Eh, Dimchurch? - What?
Oh, yes. Yes.
- Are you all right, old chap? - Yes, yes. Fine.
Does she worry you that much?
No. No. It's just... a nuisance.
Never mind. We'll just keep the cupboard doors closed for longer.
Stop the skeletons rattling, hmm?
- Skeletons? - Skeletons?
Skeletons? How interesting.
- Bravo! Bravo! - Encore.
Encore.
Why don't you shut up. That's all!
Thank you.
That was most stirring, most stirring indeed.
- Really? - All these young things singing.
The lads of the starboard watch are better, but it's their night off.
Perhaps another programme can be arranged?
- As to that, Miss Marple... - Yes, yes it can... next year.
- Oh, thank you. - Not at all.
Are you satisfied with what you've seen?
I must say, everything seems to be shipshape and Bristol fashion.
I'm glad to hear it, but I expected no less.
It's been a long day. How about a nightcap?
- A very good idea. - Good. Right, dismiss.
Dismiss.
- Dismiss. - Dismiss!
We've enjoyed your visit, madam. It's been a great fillip to morale.
Thank you, Captain, but there is one thing that disturbs me.
What's that?
I can't for the life of me think what it was
that so upset Ffolly Hardwicke after his visit here.
Upset? What about, Miss Marple?
Well, unfortunately, the poor man passed over
before he passed on whatever it was that was on his mind.
- We had hubble bubble that day. - Hubble bubble?
A mixture of baked beans and leftovers.
Ah, so that's what you call it!
Even the boys loathe it. I suppose he did too.
I'm rather fond of it myself.
There's no accounting for taste. Well, we got that cleared up.
Nice to get these things cleared up.
- Please sit down. - Thank you.
There, now may I say on behalf of all of us
how sorry we will be to see you go in the morning.
How nice of you to say that.
I had no idea you would welcome my staying on...
..the inconvenience I mean.
There has been none involved.
It would have been splendid for you to have stayed with us for longer.
Then say no more, Captain, I stay.
Good!
- Steward! - Yes, ma'am?
You know.
Captain, as a measure of my appreciation
and with your permission, of course, I should like to give the order.
- What? - Steward!
Splice the main brace!
- Thank you, Captain. - Thank you, sir.
Ah, no, not for me.
If you don't mind, ma'am, I don't care for the stuff. I'll turn in.
Oh, well...
- Captain... - Yes, ma'am?
..ladies and gentlemen, the good ship, Battledore.
- Battledore. - Battledore.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll retire.
Good night, everyone.
See you all in the morning.
How the devil did that happen?
Sir, you more or less invited her to stay.
- Who's talking to you? - You did.
- Did I? - Yes.
Did I?
It's rather a case of being outmanoeuvred, sir!
Outmanoeuvred! Me?
Outmanoeuvred...
Well, the champagne was already laid on, sir.
Yes...
..already laid on.
What's her little game then?
Mr Stringer? What...?
Dusty?
Whatever can the dear man mean?
Captain...
Captain, sir...
..officer of the watch.
- No need to bash the door down. - Sorry, sir.
I can't stand being disturbed when I'm curling my beard.
What do you want?
- Well, sir, shore leave... - Keep your voice down.
Oh, yes. Shore leave party just returned minus one.
- Minus one? What? Who's adrift? - Dusty Miller, sir.
Dusty!
- No, not him. - I'm afraid so, sir.
You mean to tell me, you let that young villain loose with her about?
- I didn't see any reason... - You blithering twit!
Bli...! You should have clapped him in irons the moment she came aboard.
- Permission to round him up, sir. - Granted.
Thank you.
- Compton! - Yes, sir?
You can tell Miller from me that for once in his miserable life,
he'd better put his heart and soul into morning prayers.
Aye, aye, sir.
Patrol, quick march!
Patrol, halt!
Prisoner's escort, fall in.
Patrol, right turn. Quick march!
I've been observing you.
I'm wondering why a gentlemen like you,
who can live in a hotel like that, wants to sleep in my bed?
I do assure you, I'd no intention of...
Good night!
Prisoner and escort, halt! Petty officer, carry on.
Quick march!
Prisoner and escort, halt!
Left turn!
Petty officer, fall out!
Operation Snatch, go!
Mr Stringer!
Miss Marple, I... I stole their boat!
Calm, steady yourself.
Now go on.
I did as you said, I followed the shore patrol.
Those boys, Miss Marple, robbed the place like professionals.
Did they indeed?
I strongly suspect that one of the officers is an arch criminal,
a man who corrupts the mind of youth and profits by the corruption.
Return ashore, Mr Stringer, and keep on your guard.
I will, Miss Marple.
Oh, it's you.
What are you doing?
Don't be a fool!
Oh, pump up, lad, pump up! That's better!
You don't think I'm enjoying this do you?
- Captain, sir... - What?
Captain, I'm glad you're an early riser too.
A word with you please.
Not at the moment, if you don't mind. I'm somewhat déshabillé.
Captain, this is important. Now, if you don't mind?
As you like, madam.
I mentioned to you that poor Mr Ffolly Hardwicke was troubled.
Yes, you did indeed.
I believe, I mean, I'm sure I've stumbled upon the cause.
- This lad, Miller... - Madam, madam, please.
If you're suggesting that by some manner or means
there has been any gross dereliction of duty,
I'll see to it that the culprit will hang from the highest yardarm.
- Just like that... - Eh?
Yes, just like that.
Hello...
Compton!
I'm not having it!
Not in my ship! I'm not having it!
- Nothing but questions, questions. - I haven't asked any yet, sir.
It's about time you started. The place is swarming with police.
It's unsettling the lads, the staff and it's unsettling me!
Yes, sir, I can see that.
Death - instantaneous. Time - around about midnight.
Asphyxiation by hanging?
No, he was run through first, then hung up.
- Run through? - With a sword.
It seems rather like gilding the lily. Extraordinary business.
I'd like to discuss it, but I've got a baby due.
I'll give you a full report later. Good morning.
He's a bit on the brisk side, isn't he?
Yes... run through, eh?
Have you hurt yourself?
- Any more of these weapons aboard? - Yes, there are.
- I've got one myself. - Oh?
Everybody has!
It's part of dress uniform, except for the ladies.
- Anyone could have used this. - That is hardly gallant, Inspector!
I'm sorry, madam.
Who was the last person to see Compton alive?
The last person to see him alive...
Establish that and you've got whoever it was who did him in!
Let's begin with you, sir. Well?
- Well what? - When did you last see the deceased?
It's none of your business, but it was six bells in the first watch.
- Which means? - 11 o'clock last night.
Thank you, sir.
Any advance on 11?
You heard what he said, any advance on 11?
I see.
Can you think why someone would want to kill this officer?
No. He was a most popular fellow, wasn't he?
He was the most popular fellow on board.
Clearly not with everyone.
Perhaps you can help me, sir.
- Did Compton have any enemies? - I don't think so.
Had there been any quarrels or bad feeling?
Well, I...
I couldn't really say.
Can anyone say?
- What about you, sir? - I had little to do with him.
I don't know.
And you, Mr Humbert?
Yes, well... all right,
it's true that Compton and I hadn't been getting on well lately.
- Really, sir. - It...
I'm sorry, Shirley, but it will come out sooner or later.
Compton was always making up to Shirley... that is, Miss Boston.
Eric!
You see... Shirley and I... are more or less... engaged.
What!
Do you know what you're saying?
- Oh, Humbert, this is serious! - Yes, I quite agree, sir.
Yes...
In my ship there is no, repeat no,
hanky-panky between the sexes.
It is a golden rule of the Trust and we are bound to uphold it.
By thunder, Humbert, you've got some explaining to do!
Engaged... to a woman!
- Explain, sir, explain! - Will you kindly let him, sir.
- Sir? - Excuse me.
- What do you want? - Something important has...
- Have you hurt yourself, sir? - Get on with it.
Well...
I just heard from the lads down the town....
What?
All right.
You sent a patrol ashore last night, sir?
Well, what on earth's the matter with that?
The lads are at the police station reporting a theft.
They couldn't return to the ship as their dinghy was stolen.
A man's been murdered, man, and you're fussing about dinghies?
Sir?
I take the point to be that whoever stole the dinghy
could also have rode out here and...
Yes, that's very good.
Well done, Connors.
- Why didn't you think of that? - I did.
Your dinghy's been recovered adrift, clearly tied up by an amateur.
We are testing it for fingerprints.
Just a minute.
Don't you think I'm due for some sort of "I'm sorry, Captain"?
- I'm sorry, Captain. - Thank you.
Bacon, get the launch alongside to...
Bacon!
Sir?
Are you all right, sir?
I thought I saw...
No, it couldn't be.
Oh, botheration!
Secretary to the Trustees...
Cape of Good Hope, Youth Reclamation Trust, Milchester
Bacon!
I'm sorry, sir. I lost my hat.
- What timing! - Onto something?
Whoever stole that dinghy last night is our killer.
Mr Stringer!
Oh, dear.
Poor Mr Stringer.
Mr Stringer?
Yes, Miss Marple.
No, I'm here.
- I'm sorry, Jim. I had to warn you. - Warn me?
- You're a wanted man. - Wanted?
- That dinghy you purloined. - Only borrowed.
Well, the police think that whoever borrowed that boat is a murderer.
Me? A murderer?
Look, I've brought you a little brandy. I thought you might need it.
Road block, map reference S14X02...
Beat 5 extend 200 yards to Blue Box 44. Beat 6, await instructions.
It's orders!
I realise he's probably dangerous. I'm taking all precautions.
Yes, sir, every man and dog in the force.
If you want to, take it up with Inspector Craddock.
What the...?
Sorry, sir.
- Sir? - Yes?
- A tramp to see you urgently. - I don't want to see a tramp.
- Yes, you do, sir. - What the...?
The man you're looking for. I know where he is.
So all you need to do is lie low and allow the hunt to continue.
That'll keep the Inspector out of mischief and give me a free hand.
- But surely a combined operation... - No, don't you see?
If the real killer thinks the police are looking for you,
he'll be lulled into a sense of false security.
Oh, but I...
Very well, Miss Marple, I'll do it.
Stout fellow.
I suppose it was the nefarious activities of the wretched Compton
and his misguided lads that Mr Ffolly Hardwicke found out.
Let's say it was that.
So Compton silenced Ffolly Hardwicke.
Yes.
Then who killed Compton?
- Well... - His accomplice perhaps?
- Did he have an accomplice? - Yes.
The person who intruded into Compton's cabin during my intrusion
obviously knew about the sea chest and its contents.
I see.
I wonder what it was that he or she wanted out of that chest?
Could it have been the loot from a previous robbery?
By Jove, Miss Marple, yes!
The classic situation - thieves fall out.
Yes.
I see it. Compton murdered Ffolly Hardwicke to procure his silence.
Compton's accomplice murdered him to procure the loot.
Two murderers!
No.
No?
No, there's something wrong there. I feel it in my bones.
I have it.
- Eh? - What was bothering me.
Oh!
Compton's accomplice would have chosen a more discreet way
of disposing of his partner in crime.
Yes, a sharp blow on the head, a quick heave over the side,
body carried out on the ebb tide, perhaps never to be recovered.
Precisely.
To run a man through and then suspend him for all to see
and from the traditional gibbet for mutineers and traitors.
No, Jim.
This suggests a different mind from that of the common criminal,
a mind that could conceive of something so diabolical
as to poison a man with his own snuff.
- You don't mean? - Yes.
I strongly suspect there is only one murderer,
that he killed Ffolly Hardwicke and Compton
from a motive that we don't yet know of...
..a motive of his own.
By Jove, I believe you're right.
What could that motive be?
A moment, Mr Stringer.
I found this envelope in Compton's sea chest
and it had been steamed open.
Why should Compton wish to intercept a communication to the Trustees?
On the back, these figures,
some sort of calculation, probably by Compton,
but see here the number 33.
You will recall Mr Ffolly Hardwicke's preoccupation
with just that number - 33.
Mr Stringer, you must return to Milchester at once.
Go and see the Secretary of the Trust, Miss Pringle,
and ask her what kind of communication from the ship
would be likely to be contained in an unusual envelope of this sort.
Miss Marple, the police! I thought you said I was to lie low.
Well, use the back stairs.
Turn up your collar and pull down your cap. Goodbye. Good luck.
The Chief Constable and I have read your statement.
We can't believe it, but we've read it.
There is no further point in my stay.
Just a minute.
I could charge you for withholding information, conspiracy,
aiding and abetting a fugitive from justice and I expect many more.
- Why don't you? - If I had my way...
Anyhow, the Chief thinks that some good has come from your meddling.
- Meddling? - Meddling.
May I ask what line you intend to pursue?
Compton was killed by his accomplice.
I thought you would think that.
- Glib. - Glib?
- Thought you would want to see this. - Thank you.
Thank you very much.
We now know who that accomplice is.
Oh.
There have been six major robberies in this neighbourhood
in as many weeks - jewellery mostly.
A social event preceded each robbery.
All the guest lists included the name of Sub-Lieutenant Humbert.
I see. Are you going to arrest him?
I'll pull Humbert in, confront him with those junior safe-breakers,
but that will be just a formality.
I take it you are disregarding the possibility
that Mr Ffolly Hardwicke died any other than a natural death?
Snuffed out by strychnine in his snuff?
You've got far too much imagination.
Just as well, since I seem to need enough for both of us.
The way lies before you.
I suggest you take it, collect Mr Stringer
and go home to Milchester.
The way lies before you, Chief Inspector.
I suggest you take it.
Lock yourself up for the night and do some good hard thinking.
Of course.
Craddock, how much longer do we have to sit here?
We'll wait for the doctor's report, Captain.
Just... just...
Do you know what day it is?
- Wednesday. - Wednesday.
It's Trafalgar Day!
We've got our annual hornpipe display tonight at the Quay Hotel.
- You'll have to cancel it, sir. - Cancel it!
That'll break a tradition!
- I'm sorry. - You're sorry?
It's the death of Nelson! I can't ignore the death of Nelson!
I can't ignore some rather more recent deaths.
It's all very upsetting.
- Have you any snakes on board? - Snakes?
What is he talking about?
I thought as much. It's most peculiar.
She was poisoned through a puncture in her finger - curare possibly -
popular with South American pygmies.
They use the blowpipe, right into the system. They've gone in a jiffy.
Most extraordinary. Never seen anything like it.
I'd like to discuss it, but I can't.
Where's my bag? Oh, you've got it.
Yes, I've got a baby due.
It might even be twins or triplets. Good morning.
- That chap really is brisk. - It's all life and death with him.
Snakes...
Pygmies..
Blowpipes...
It's her, you know.
The ancient mariner had nothing on her.
- Are you all right? - All right?
No, I am not all right.
- Get that woman off this ship! - What woman?
Miss Marple, you fool!
Since she came aboard, two of my staff have been slaughtered,
Humbert's been slapped in jail
and four of my lads have been accused of housebreaking!
Apart from that, the ship's stuffed with this!
What do you call it? Loot! Look at it.
Craddock, my friend.
My dear Inspector friend.
I don't care how you do it, but get her off.
I mean, trump up some charge if you like.
I'm sure you're very good at that.
You see, she's a jinx. She's a Jonah.
She's blowing an ill wind!
Where is the dear man?
He must be back by now.
The captain thinks you've got the evil eye.
He wants me to get rid of you.
I'm sure he does.
- Well, may I come in? - If you wish.
Now I suppose you intend to release Sub-Lieutenant Humbert?
I'm not so sure.
I admit the girl must have been the accomplice
who took the loot from Compton's cabin,
but I think Humbert's mixed up in it.
He is.
He's one of the Rutherfordshire Humberts.
As such, acceptable socially at all the big houses in the country,
which explains his presence at the functions you spoke of,
which preceded each robbery.
I... suppose it would.
- I presume he went with the girl? - Yes.
You know, it may be she made up to him deliberately
in order to gain entrée into these houses so as to,
as you put it, 'case the joints' for her real paramour, Compton.
I'll think about that.
Meanwhile, she was poisoned. The poison was injected into her finger.
- So I perceived. - All right, but how?
By mousetrap.
- Mousetrap? - Yes.
I think that last night that unfortunate girl
was seeking a safe hiding place for the ill-gotten gains.
She found one, reached inside and snap.
Snap?
Yes, the weal across the back of her hand - consistent.
The puncture - a sharp point attached to the snapper.
Wait a minute. A mousetrap primed with a deadly poison?
In heaven's name, why?
The hiding place she found was already in use.
What?
Hiding something else; something of even greater value, obviously,
as the owner was prepared to guard it with a murderous booby trap.
Miss Marple, all this seems so... fantastic?
Not really, Chief Inspector.
The method is outlined in this book; The Doom Box,
as is, by the way, the principle of murder by snuff.
Excuse me.
Will you and your men want luncheon?
Don't want to put you to any trouble, madam.
Oh, it's no trouble.
Four meals are going begging
now that our lads have been reduced to 29.
29 plus 4 equals 33.
33!
Chief Inspector, I am convinced that the key to all this
lies in the fact that the full ship's company of lads numbers 33.
Miss Marple, you're way above my head.
Mr Stringer!
Rash!
Foolhardy!
What hit me?
Seems some joker heaved this rock through the cabin window, sir.
Does it?
Probably one of these hooligans we read so much about.
- Pity the police can do nothing. - Look here...
As soon as you're compos mentis, Inspector,
the captain wants to see you on a matter of urgency.
- Chief Inspector. - Miss Marple?
I must be quick.
The captain intends to demand that you allow tonight's hornpipe display
and I want you to give way.
- What? - You must.
Chief Inspector, do you know who threw that rock?
If I only did!
My friend, Mr Stringer.
- Mr Stringer! - Yes, and you'll thank him for it.
I found this envelope in Compton's cabin after his death.
Assaulting a police officer, withholding information... again.
Don't be petty, Chief Inspector.
This envelope is used for the ship's quarterly report to the Trustees
and Mr Stringer has enclosed the latest example for us.
You will see that the complement of lads is quoted as 45.
In fact, it is only 33.
- You mean... a swindle. - Yes.
One which, if it's been going on as long as I think,
has cost the Trust a fortune.
May I, sir?
I think Mr Ffolly Hardwicke stumbled on this swindle,
so did Compton, who then added to his list of crimes, blackmail.
Blackmail?
He intercepted that report, steamed open the envelope,
and as you will observe,
calculated the amount to which our miscreant was profiting per year.
No doubt he intended to claim a substantial cut for himself,
but of course he got more than he bargained for.
Who signed that report?
- The captain. - Come on.
- No, nothing precipitant. - But...
No one must be apprehended yet. They must be allowed to go ashore.
That's impossible.
Embezzlement is one thing, proof of triple murder is another.
Softly softly catchee monkey... with a mousetrap.
Liberty boats away in two minutes.
What? Oh, my goodness! I haven't even changed.
- Captain? - Yes, madam.
- I wonder if you'd let me cry off. - Cry off?
Well, I'll be returning home tomorrow.
- Tomorrow? - Yes.
Yes, of course.
While I'd tremendously enjoy accompanying you tonight,
I'd like so much more to spend my last night on board.
Well, that's entirely up to you.
I'm a landlubber, you see,
and to hear the sea gently slapping the sides of the ship...
..to be curled up with a good book...
Well, I'll be only too happy as long as it tops off your stay.
This is a rattling good detective yarn.
I borrowed it from the ship's library.
I know only one of you has read it, but I suggest that all of you do.
I've just got up to the most exciting part when...
I hope I won't be giving too much away
if I say the answer is a mousetrap!
A mousetrap?
There, I'll say no more, otherwise I'll spoil it for you.
- Captain, the boats are waiting. - Oh, good.
Well then, may we wish you a very pleasant evening.
Thank you.
- Good night. - The same to you.
All of you.
Miss Marple, I understand that you spoke up for me.
I'd just like to say thank you.
Good night.
Good evening, Miss Marple.
Are you quite comfortable, Chief Inspector?
No.
Well, it won't be long now.
Torch!
You!
I didn't go ashore.
No one noticed in the dark.
No one notices me anyway.
What do you want?
This was my last chance.
You leave tomorrow don't you?
That is my intention, yes.
I've been under great strain since you came aboard.
I want to talk to you. I've got a confession to make.
Yes?
I suffer from chronic seasickness. I am not fit to teach seamanship.
- I have to keep going on pills. - I see.
- You steal them from the sickbay. - How did you know?
It doesn't matter.
I suppose I'll have to resign.
- No, I don't think so. - What?
Admiral Lord Nelson had your complaint.
Where would we be if he had resigned?
If it sets your mind at rest,
I suggest that it's not too late for you to go ashore
and join the festivities in honour of your noble predecessor.
Miss Marple, I hardly know what to say.
I don't know how to thank you.
Then don't try.
You can show yourself now.
Good evening, Commander.
Good evening, Miss Marple.
How long has it taken you to embezzle such a vast sum?
20 years.
My fellow Trustees must indeed have been lax.
Mr Ffolly Hardwicke's visit was the first for a decade.
You prepare the quarterly reports, don't you?
Yes, I do.
I must admit I suspected the captain at first, since he signed them.
I thought you might.
Then it dawned on me.
You had two reports didn't you?
The one accurate, the other false.
A sheet of carbon paper between the two and the captain signed both.
True.
You've spent little of the fruits of your labour - I find that curious.
It's simply that I wish to retire in a style befitting an admiral.
- I beg your pardon? - My rank, you know.
I understood you retired as a commander.
- You don't understand anything! - I should like to.
I was axed from the navy. Nothing to do with my competency.
"Unsuitable for further promotion", I think the phrase was.
I was offered this post afterwards.
- You took it? - Yes.
I also took the regular promotions
that would have been mine had I still been in the service
and the pay rises that went with them.
I may wear the uniform of a commander,
but I am in fact an admiral of the fleet.
I think you've heard enough, Chief Inspector.
You almost convinced me there.
Now I propose to execute you on the spot and scuttle this vessel.
They'll think we both went down with her
and by the time the truth comes out, if it ever does,
I shall be enjoying a well-earned retirement a long way from here.
You won't find it as easy as you think.
I warn you, I was Ladies National Fencing Champion in 1931.
In 1931, madam, I was Fencing Champion of the Yangtze Flotilla.
En garde!
Inspector!
Salut, Miss Marple.
Now, I'm afraid, the coup de grâce.
Mr Stringer!
Not this time, Miss Marple.
Touché, Mr Stringer!
Well done! Well done.
I was so worried, I just couldn't stay away!
My goodness, the Chief Inspector! Quick, the hatch!
Allow me. Are you all right?
I was so concerned about you.
Captain, sir.
Sir!
I think they want you.
- Captain. - Madam.
Please, there's no need for words.
Hilt towards me - guilty.
The end of my career.
Captain!
Your great grandfather's Trafalgar sword!
Madam, I'll tell you something.
I never had a great grandfather
and I bought this in Portsmouth market for 35s/6d.
I think you've misunderstood. The hilt was towards you.
Yes, I know.
It means you're not guilty.
- Eh? - No.
We Trustees must take responsibility for all that happened.
- Not guilty? - No.
Not...
I thought when the hilt was... it's the other way around isn't it?
I never could get it right!
Not guilty!
Thank you madam, gentlemen.
Thank you very much indeed. Excuse me.
Thank you.
Not guilty.
Nevertheless, I shall have to tender my resignation.
You see...
Just a minute.
Would you come in?
You see, Matron Fanbraid wants to get married...
..and so do I.
We've been courting now, underhand for far too long.
14 years, as a matter of fact. It is about 14 years, isn't it?
I fully realise that it is a golden rule of the Trust
that there shall be no hanky-panky between the sexes.
I see.
So we'll wish you a good day. Come on, girl.
- Matron. Captain. - Yes?
I think I speak for all my fellow Trustees
when I say that golden rule is hereby rescinded.
You're a fine sea dog, Captain,
but the Battledore could well do with a woman's hand at the helm.
Sydney!
Alice.
Push off, for'ard.
Give way together, lads.
You know...
..the moment I clapped eyes on her I said to myself,
"What an old darling!"