[Dogs Barking]
No!
[Shake, Rattle, and Roll Plays]
Is everything ready?
Oui, monsieur.
You have your instructions?
[Sniff Sniff]
Is everything all right, Mrs. Ho?
Dinner will be ready at 7:30.
[Ding Ding]
[Grrr]
Good evening.
I don't know if--
Yes, you are expected, Colonel.
It is Colonel Mustard, isn't it?
No, my name's--
Forgive me, sir.
Tonight, you may feel obliged to my employer
for the use of an alias.
[Sniff Sniff]
And who are you, sir?
I'm Wadsworth, sir.
The butler.
Yvette, give the colonel anything he requires.
Within reason, that is.
Oh, Wadsworth, I was...
[Ding Ding]
Do come in, madam. You are expected.
Do you know who I am?
Only that you'll be known as Mrs. White.
So the letter said. But why?
[Sniff Sniff]
May I introduce you?
Mrs. White, this is Yvette, the maid.
I see you know each other.
Hello.
[Thunder]
Want a lift?
Yes, please.
Thanks. I'm late for a dinner date.
Me, too. Where are you going?
Let's see.
Hill House, off Route 41 .
Let me look at that.
That's where I'm going.
I got a letter like this.
And this is Mrs. Peacock.
- Hello. - Hello.
Yvette, check that dinner will be ready
as soon as all the guests have arrived.
[Doorbell Rings]
Is this the address to meet Mr. Boddy?
You're Mr. Green.
Yes.
Sit!
No. Not you, sir.
Oh.
It should be just off there.
That must be it.
Why has the car stopped?
It's frightened.
[Thunder]
Aah!
What a godforsaken place.
Professor Plum and Miss Scarlet.
I didn't realize you were acquainted.
We weren't.
May I present Professor Plum and Miss Scarlet.
Since you've been addressed by pseudonyms,
you'll realize nobody is using their real name.
[Clang]
Ah, dinner.
I'm sorry.
I'm a little accident-prone.
You'll find your names beside your places.
Please be seated.
Is this place for you?
Indeed, no. I'm a humble butler.
What exactly do you do?
I buttle, sir.
Which means what?
I'm head of the kitchen and dining room.
I keep everything tidy.
What's this dinner party about?
''Ours is not to reason why,
ours is but to do and die.''
Die?
Merely quoting Tennyson.
I prefer Kipling.
''The female of the species is more deadly than the male.''
You like Kipling?
I'll eat anything.
Shark's fin soup, madam.
Is this for our host?
No, sir. The seventh guest, Mr. Boddy.
I thought Mr. Boddy was our host.
All: So did I.
Who is our host, Mr. Wadsworth?
I'm starting while it's hot.
Wait for the other guest.
I'll keep something warm for him.
What'd you have in mind, dear?
[Slurp]
Someone's got to break the ice.
I'm used to being a hostess.
It's always difficult
when a group of new friends
meet together the first time.
I'm prepared to start the ball rolling.
I have no idea why we're here
or what this is about,
but I am determined to enjoy myself.
I'm very intrigued.
This soup's delicious, isn't it?
You're used to being a hostess?
It's part of your life
when you're the wife of a--
We mustn't say who we are,
although I don't know why.
Don't you?
I know who you are.
Tell us.
How?
I work in Washington, too.
You're a politician's wife?
Yes, I am.
Who's your husband?
What does your husband do?
Nothing.
Nothing?
He lies around on his back all day.
Sounds like hard work.
I'm sorry.
I'm accident-prone.
Watch it.
Excusez-moi.
Oh, my, oh.
Mmm. This is one of my favorite recipes.
I know, madam.
What do you do in Washington, Mr. Green?
Come on. What do you do?
How are we to get acquainted without talking?
Perhaps he doesn't want to.
If I wasn't keeping the conversation going,
we'd be sitting in an embarrassed silence.
Are you afraid of silence?
Yes-- No, why?
You suffer from what we call ''pressure of speech.''
Who's ''we''? Are you a shrink?
I know a little about psychological medicine.
Oh, you're a doctor?
Yes, but I don't practice.
Practice makes perfect.
I think most men need a little practice,
don't you, Mrs. Peacock?
What do you do, Professor?
I'm with the United Nations.
Another politician. Jesus!
I work for W.H.O., the World Health Organization.
What's your area of special concern?
Family planning.
Colonel, are you a real colonel?
I am, sir.
You also live in Washington, D.C.?
How did you know that?
Have we met before?
I've seen you before,
although you may not have seen me.
You live in Washington, too?
Sure do.
Does anyone not live in Washington?
I don't.
But you have a government job.
Anyone not earn their living from the government,
one way or another?
Where's our host, and why are we here?
[Doorbell Rings]
[Wadsworth] Ah, good evening.
You're eagerly awaited.
Are you locking me in?
I'll take the key.
Over my dead body, sir.
May I take your bag?
No. I'll leave it here.
It contains evidence, I presume?
It contains surprises, my friend.
Ladies and gentlemen,
may I present Mr. Boddy.
What are they doing here?
Eating dinner.
Do sit down, Mr. Boddy.
Thanks.
Take that away, honey.
Look! I demand to know what's going on.
Why have we been dragged here?
Well, I believe we all received a letter.
My letter says,
''It will be to your advantage to be present.
Mr. Boddy will end a long-standing, confidential,
and painful financial liability.''
Signed, ''A friend.''
I received a similar letter.
So did we.
I also received a letter.
No, thanks, Yvette.
I just ate.
You know her?
We know each other.
Don't we, dear?
Did your letter say the same thing?
No.
I see.
Can I interest anyone in fruit or dessert?
Then we'll adjourn to the study
for coffee and brandy,
where our unknown host will reveal his intentions.
There's no one here.
Please help yourself to brandy and be seated.
Mind if I smoke?
Ladies and gentlemen,
I'm to explain what you have in common with each other.
Unless you would care to, Mr. Boddy?
Why me? Do they know who I am?
No. You've never identified yourself.
It's a hoax. I suggest we leave.
I'm sorry. You cannot leave this house!
Who'll stop me?
There's no way out. The windows have bars.
The doors are locked.
You can't hold us prisoner!
He's right!
Please return to the study.
Everything will be explained.
You, too, Mr. Boddy.
Other way!
You can't get out.
It's only glass.
You all have one thing in common.
You're all being blackmailed.
For some time,
you've been paying more than you can afford
to someone threatening to expose you,
and you don't know who.
That's ridiculous!
Nobody could blackmail me.
I've never done anything wrong.
Anybody else wish to deny it?
Very well.
As everyone here is in the same boat,
I'll reveal some details, as instructed.
Thank you, Yvette.
You might spare us this humiliation.
I'm sorry.
Professor Plum, you were once
a professor of psychiatry,
specializing in homicidal lunatics
suffering from delusions of grandeur.
But now I'm with the United Nations.
No change. But you don't practice medicine.
His license to practice has been lifted.
What did he do?
What doctors mustn't do with their lady patients.
Oh, how disgusting!
Are you making moral judgments, Mrs. Peacock?
How then do you justify taking bribes
in return for delivering Senator Peacock's vote to lobbyists?
My husband's a paid consultant.
There's nothing wrong with that.
Not if it's publicly declared.
But if the payment is delivered
by slipping used greenbacks
under the door of the men's room,
how would you describe that?
I'd say it stinks.
How would you know?
So it's true?
No. It's a vicious lie!
You've been paying blackmail for over a year
to keep that story out of the papers.
I believe you. I'm being blackmailed
for something I didn't do.
- Me, too. - And me.
Not me.
You're not?
I did what I'm being blackmailed for.
What did you do?
To be perfectly frank,
I run a hotel which provides
gentlemen with the company of a young lady
for a short while.
Oh, yeah?
What's the phone number?
Was Colonel Mustard one of your clients?
Tell them that's not true.
It's not true.
Really?
No.
Aha! A double negative.
Do you have photographs?
That sounds like a confession.
You gave yourself away.
Are you trying to make me look stupid?
You don't need help.
That's right!
What's so terrible about Colonel Mustard
visiting a house of ill fame?
He holds a sensitive security post in the Pentagon.
You drive an expensive car for a colonel.
I came into money during the war
when I lost my mommy and daddy.
Mrs. White,
you've paid the blackmailer
ever since your husband died mysteriously.
Why is that funny?
That's why he was lying on his back.
I didn't kill him.
Then why are you paying the blackmailer?
I don't want a scandal.
We had a humiliating confrontation.
He was deranged.
He was a lunatic.
He didn't like me.
He threatened to kill me in public.
Why kill you in public?
He threatened in public to kill her.
Oh. Was that his final word?
Being killed is pretty final, right?
He was the one who died, not you.
What was his profession?
He was a scientist. Nuclear physics.
What was he like?
He was always a stupidly optimistic man.
It was a shock to him when he died.
His head had been cut off.
And so had his, uh...
you know.
I had been out all evening.
Do you miss him?
Now that he's dead, I have a life.
He was your second husband.
Your first husband also disappeared.
He was an illusionist.
But he never reappeared.
He wasn't a very good illusionist.
I have something to say.
I won't wait for Wadsworth to unmask me.
I work for the State Department,
and I'm a homosexual.
I feel no shame or guilt about this,
but I must keep it a secret
or I'll lose my job on security grounds.
Thank you.
Well...
that just leaves Mr. Boddy.
What's your secret?
Haven't you guessed?
He's the one blackmailing you.
You bastard!
Put 'em up!
Gentlemen...
if you can't fight fairly,
don't fight at all.
Nobody calls me a bastard!
Was that necessary, Mrs. White?
Wait, wait!
The police are coming.
- No, no! - Oh, no!
Listen!
Blackmail depends on secrecy.
You've admitted he's blackmailed you.
Tell the police, and he'll be convicted.
It's not so easy.
You'll never tell the police.
Then I shall.
This conversation is being tape recorded.
Point of order!
Tape recordings aren't admissible evidence.
The police arrive in 45 minutes.
Tell them the truth,
and Mr. Boddy will be behind bars.
Where are you going?
I can help them decide.
Can I get my bag?
Who can guess what's in here?
The evidence against us, no doubt.
Did you know you were meeting us?
Yes.
What were you told, precisely?
That you were meeting to discuss our arrangements.
If I didn't appear,
Wadsworth would inform the police.
I could hardly resist
putting in an appearance.
Excuse me.
Open them.
Why not?
I enjoy getting presents from strange men.
A candlestick?
What's this for?
In your hands,
you each have a lethal weapon.
If you denounce me to the police,
you will also be exposed and humiliated.
I'll see to that in court.
But...
if one of you kills Wadsworth now,
no one but the seven of us will ever know.
He has the key to the front door,
which he said would only be opened
over his dead body.
I suggest we take him up on that offer.
To avoid finding yourselves on the front pages,
one of you better kill Wadsworth...now.
[Thump]
[Moan]
[Gunshot]
Aaahh!
It's not Wadsworth!
Is he alive?
Mr. Boddy.
Stand back!
Let me see.
He's dead!
Who had the gun?
I did.
You shot him!
I didn't!
If you didn't shoot him, who did?
Nobody! There's no gunshot wound.
Somebody grabbed the gun, and it went off.
Look! The bullet broke that vase.
Excuse me.
He's absolutely right.
There's a bullet hole.
How did he die?
I don't know!
I'm not a forensic expert!
Someone here must have killed him.
I didn't do it.
I need a drink.
Maybe he was poisoned.
Aah!
Mrs. Peacock, it's all right.
We don't know anything.
Sit down. Sit down.
I had to stop her from screaming.
Was the brandy poisoned?
I don't know.
Looks like we'll never know.
Unless...
unless she dies, too.
Aah!
It's locked.
Open up.
It's the murderer!
He's got Yvette!
Oh, my God!
You're alive.
No thanks to you.
There's a murderer here.
The murderer's in this room?
But where?
Where? Here.
We're looking at him...or her!
Like Mrs. White said,
somebody here is a killer!
How did you know?
I was listening.
Why were you screaming all by yourself?
Because I am frightened.
I also drink the cognac.
I can't stay here by myself.
Come back to the study with us.
With the murderer?
There's safety in numbers, my dear.
There's no indication of how he died?
No.
This is absolutely terrible.
It's not what I'd intended.
My God!
Not what you intended?
You're not the butler?
I'm not the butler,
but I am a butler, his butler.
If he told you to invite us, why was he late?
I invited you. I wrote the letters.
It was all my idea.
Wait a minute.
I--I don't understand.
Were you assisting your late employer
to blackmail us?
Certainly not!
I think you'd better explain.
Please sit down, everyone.
When I said I was Mr. Boddy's butler,
this was misleading.
I was once his butler,
but his death didn't end my employment.
What did end it?
When my wife decided to...
end her life.
She, too, was being blackmailed
by this odious man.
He hated my wife
for the same reason he hated all of you--
He believed you were thoroughly un-American.
I'm sorry.
He felt it was inappropriate
for a senator to have a corrupt wife,
for a doctor to abuse his patients,
for a wife to emasculate her husband,
and--and...so forth.
If he was so patriotic, why didn't he report us?
He decided to make a little money.
What could be more American than that?
What was your role?
I was a victim, too.
At least, my wife was.
She had friends who were...
socialists.
Oh, my God.
Well...
we all make mistakes.
Mr. Boddy threatened to turn her in
unless she named the socialists.
She refused, so he blackmailed her.
The price of his silence
was that we work for him for nothing. We were slaves.
To make a long story short...
Too late.
my wife's suicide preyed on my mind
and created a sense of injustice in me.
I resolved to put Mr. Boddy behind bars.
The best way to do this and free you from blackmail
was to get everyone face to face,
confront Mr. Boddy with his crimes,
and turn him in.
Everything's explained.
Nothing's explained.
We don't know who killed him.
We've got to find out in 39 minutes
before the police arrive.
We can't have them come now.
Which of you did it?
What do you mean, ''you''?
Well, I didn't do it!
One of us did. We all had a motive.
Great! We'll all get the chair.
- Maybe it wasn't us! - Who else?
Who else is here?
- Only the cook! - Only the cook!
Well, she's not here.
Aah!
I didn't do it!
Somebody help me, please.
Don't touch it.
That's evidence.
Not for us.
We can't take fingerprints.
Explain yourself, Wadsworth.
Me? Why me?
Why kill the cook?
Dinner wasn't that bad.
How can you make jokes?
It's my defense mechanism.
If I was the killer, I'd kill you next.
I said if.
There's one admitted killer here.
It is her.
I've admitted nothing.
How many husbands have you had?
Mine or other women's?
Yours.
Just the five.
Husbands should be like Kleenex--
soft, strong, and disposable.
You're like a spider luring flies.
Flies are where men are most vulnerable.
If it wasn't you, who was it?
Who had the dagger?
You, Mrs. Peacock.
Yes. I put it down in the study.
When?
Before...or after I fainted.
Any of you could have picked it up.
I suggest we take the cook's body into the study.
Why?
Butlers like keeping the kitchen tidy.
Look!
The body's gone!
- What are you staring at? - Nothing.
- Well, who's there? - Nobody.
What do you mean?
I mean no body. Boddy's body's gone.
He was dead!
We should've made sure.
How? By cutting his head off?
We'd better look for him.
Well.
He couldn't have been dead.
He was. At least, I thought he was.
What difference does it make now?
Makes a difference to him.
Maybe there is life after death.
Life after death's as improbable
as sex after marriage.
Maybe Mr. Boddy killed the cook!
- Yes! - Yes!
How?
Uh...
Excuse me. I have to...
Is there a little girl's room in the hall?
Oui, oui, madame.
No, I just want to powder my nose.
What's this, Wadsworth?
The negatives to which Colonel Mustard earlier referred.
You planning to blackmail him, Wadsworth?
No! I planned on returning them to the colonel
when Mr. Boddy was unmasked.
Very pretty. Want to see these, Yvette?
No. I am a lady.
What sort of pictures?
They're my pictures. I'd like them back.
No. Something in them concerns me.
Let me see.
Nobody can get into that position.
Sure they can.
Let me show you.
Get off me.
Aah!
It's Mr. Boddy!
He's attacking her.
Aah!
No. No, he's dead.
Mr. Boddy. Dead...again!
Oh, my God.
She's fainting.
Somebody catch her!
I'll catch her.
Sorry.
You've got blood on your hands.
I didn't do it!
He's certainly dead now.
Why would anyone want to kill him twice?
Seems so unnecessary.
What we call overkill.
Unless he wasn't dead before.
What's the difference?
That's what we're trying to find out--
who killed him, where, and with what!
No need to shout!
I'm not shouting!
All right, I am!
I'm shouting! I'm shouting! I'm shou--
Okay, put the corpses on the sofa.
Ladies first.
Careful. Don't get blood on the sofa.
How do we do this?
Tip her forward over the arm.
Now Mr. Boddy.
Ready.
A little higher.
There we go.
Now.
Who...
Who had access to the candlestick?
Everybody.
It was given to you.
I dropped it.
Anyone could've picked it up.
We still have these weapons--
the gun, rope, wrench, lead pipe.
Let's put them in this cupboard and lock it.
There's a homicidal maniac about.
- Good idea. - Good idea.
I'm putting the key in my pocket for safety.
You can open it whenever you want.
What if you're the murderer?
I'm not.
If I've got it, I know I'm safe.
We don't know that we are.
We'll throw it away.
Good idea!
- Wonderful! - Right away!
Sorry.
Can we help?
I didn't mean to disturb the household.
My car broke down.
I was wondering if I could use your phone.
Just a moment.
[Whispering]
Very well, sir.
Would you care to come in?
Where is it?
What, the body?
The phone. What body?
There's nobody... in the study,
But there's a phone in the lounge.
Thank you.
When you're finished, be good enough to wait here.
Certainly.
[Door Locks]
Aah!
Where's the key?
In my pocket.
The cupboard key.
Should I still dispose of it?
- Yes! - Yes!
Well...
what now?
Let me out.
No. We're all in this together.
If you leave,
I'll say you killed them both.
- Me, too. - Me, too.
You'll pay for this.
One day, when we're alone--
No sensible man would be alone with you.
I could use a drink.
So could I.
Just checking.
Everything all right?
Yep. Two corpses. Everything's fine.
Anybody else want a whiskey?
Yeah.
All right, look.
Pay attention, everybody.
There's nobody else in this house, correct?
No.
Then there is someone else here?
I said ''no'' meaning yes.
I want a straight answer.
Is there someone else, yes or no?
Uh, no.
No, there is, or isn't?
Yes.
Please!
Shouldn't we get that man out of the house?
How can we throw him out in this weather?
He may get suspicious.
Throw him out, he'll get more suspicious.
If I were him, I'd be suspicious already.
Let him stay locked up for another half hour.
The police will be here by then,
and there are two dead bodies in the study!
- Shh! - Shh!
There's still some confusion
about whether there's anybody else here.
There isn't.
Confusion or anybody else?
Either.
Give me a clear answer.
What was the question?
Is anybody else in the house?
- No! - No!
That's what he says, but does he know?
I suggest we handle this
in proper military fashion.
We split up and search the house.
Split up?
Yes. We have little time, so we'll split up into pairs.
Pairs? Suppose one of us is the murderer.
Whoever's left with the killer might get killed!
Then we'll discover the murderer.
But the other half of the pair would be dead!
Casualties are inevitable.
You cannot make an omelet
without breaking eggs.
Every cook will tell you that.
Look what happened to the cook.
You're willing to chance that?
What choice have we?
None.
I suppose you're right.
It's dark upstairs.
I'm frightened of the dark.
Will anyone go with me?
- I will. - I will.
No, thank you.
I suggest we all draw lots for partners.
Ready? The two shortest together,
the next two shortest together. Agreed?
The two shortest search the cellar,
and so on, up.
It's you and me, honeybunch.
Oh, God.
The cellar.
We know what's in the study.
We've just come from the library.
The stranger's in the lounge.
Let's go look in the billiard room again.
Want to go up in front of me?
Absolutely non.
There's nobody up there.
Then you go in front.
All right.
Well... ladies first.
No, you--you can go first.
No, I insist.
You fear a fate worse than death?
No. Death. Isn't that enough?
Are you going in there?
Yes. Are you?
Yes.
Right.
I don't see any light switches in there.
Neither do I.
Shall I come in with you?
No!
I mean... no, thank you.
Ladies first.
No, thanks.
Go on. I'll be right behind you.
That's why I'm nervous.
Then we go together.
Ohh!
Stay there.
If there's anybody in here,
just look out!
Are you hiding?
I'm coming.
What room's this?
Search me.
All right.
Get your mitts off me.
[Screech]
Aah.
[Gasp]
Nobody here.
He's behind one of those curtains.
You look. I'll search the kitchen.
I'm a little nervous.
I'm in this big house,
and I've been locked into the lounge.
Yes.
The funny thing is,
there's a group of people here
having some party,
and one of them is my old boss from--
Looks like a secret passage.
Should we see where it leads?
What the hell.
I'll go first.
I've had a good life.
Aah! Oh, God!
It's all right.
Oh, my God!
Aah!
Oh, come on!
Down here!
Get us out of here!
Where's it coming from?
Where are we going?
Where are they?
The lounge!
The door's locked!
I know.
Where's the key?
The key's gone!
Unlock the door!
I can't unlock the door without the key!
Let us in!
Let us out!
Stand back.
I'm just going to have to break it down.
I know! I have it!
Help!
Shut up! We're doing our best.
They're shooting at us.
I've been shot.
Come out. The door is open.
Why are you shooting that thing at us?
To get you out.
You could've killed us.
I could've been killed!
I can't take any more scares.
But look!
Which one of you did it?
We found him together.
How did you get in?
The door was locked.
There's a secret passageway.
Is that the same gun?
From the cupboard?
It was locked!
It was unlocked. See for yourself.
How did you know it was unlocked?
I didn't.
I think I would break it open.
A likely story.
[Doorbell Rings]
Maybe they'll just go away.
[Ring]
I'm opening it.
I have nothing to hide.
I didn't do it.
The key.
Thank you.
Good evening, sir.
Yes?
I found an abandoned car.
Did the driver come here for help?
- No, no. - No.
Well, actually, yes.
There seems to be a disagreement.
- Uh-uh. - No.
- Uh-uh.
Yes.
Can I use your phone?
Of course you may, sir.
Use the one in the, um...
Use the one in the st--
No.
Please wait in the, um...
In the um, uh, library.
Sure.
Don't I know you from someplace?
You're all anxious about something.
The chandelier fell and almost killed us.
Would you come this way?
Frightfully drafty, these old houses.
Help yourself to a drink.
Not the cognac, just in case.
In case of what?
What now?
[Knock On Door]
We should've told him.
Now you say it?
Shut up!
Let's clean this up.
[Ring]
Hello.
Maybe the cop answered it.
Who's calling?
Would you hold on, please?
Let me out of here!
I'll book you for false arrest
and wrongful imprisonment
and obstructing an officer
in the course of his duty
and murder!
What do you mean, murder?
I said it so you would open the door.
Why would you lock me in?
Why's J. Edgar Hoover on the phone?
J. Edgar Hoover?
The head of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
Why is J. Edgar Hoover on your phone?
He's on everybody else's. Why not on mine?
What's going on?
We're having a party.
Mind if I look around?
Sure.
Show him around, Mr. Green.
Me?
Show him the dining room,
the kitchen, the ballroom.
Fine.
Officer, come with me.
I'll show you the dining room
or the kitchen
or the ballroom.
Make it look convincing.
So, this is the dining room.
No kidding?
Come on!
What's going on in those two rooms?
Which two rooms?
Those two rooms.
Oh, those two rooms.
Yes!
You shouldn't go in there.
Why not?
Because it's all too shocking.
It's not all that shocking.
These folks are just having a good time.
Oh, my God.
Excuse me.
Oh!
This man's drunk.
Dead drunk.
Dead right.
You're not driving home, are you?
He won't be driving.
I promise you.
Somebody will drive him?
We'll get him a car.
A long black car.
A limousine.
Oh!
Officer.
I've seen it all.
I can explain everything.
You don't have to.
There's nothing illegal.
Really?
Yes. This is America.
It's a free country.
I didn't know it was that free.
May I use your phone now?
Certainly.
Why did you lock him in again?
We're still searching the house.
Only 1 5 minutes before the police come.
The police already came!
Let's get on with it.
Monsieur.
Oh! Look.
I can't believe it.
I wonder where this one goes.
Let's find out.
Let's try the ballroom again.
Aah!
Don't you touch me!
Aah!
Hello? Hello?
[Whispering] Shut the door.
Did anyone recognize you?
They must have,
and not just my face.
They know every inch of my body,
and they're not the only ones.
It's you!
Something funny's going on here.
I don't know what it is.
No, I'm not on duty,
but I have a feeling that I'm in danger.
You know that big ugly house--
Hello?
Are you there?
Aah!
I'm coming!
I'm trying to find the door.
Help me!
Coming!
What's this?
Another door?
Two murders.
Neither of them shot.
I heard a gun.
So did I.
I heard the front door slam.
The murderer must've run out.
Three murders?
Six all together.
This is getting serious.
No gun. Yvette dropped it here.
Very well, I know who did it.
You do?
Furthermore, I'll tell you how it was done.
Follow me.
I shall take you through the events of the evening
step-by-step.
At the start of the evening,
Yvette was here by herself,
waiting to offer you a glass of champagne.
I was in the hall.
I know because I was there.
Then I hurried across to the kitchen.
The cook was in here alive,
sharpening knives.
And then...
the doorbell rang.
And it was you.
I recognized you as Colonel Mustard.
I prevented you from telling your name.
I wanted you to use your pseudonym.
I ran across to the library.
Yvette met you and smiled
and poured you a drink.
The doorbell rang.
It was Mrs. White looking pale and tragic.
And I took her coat and hung it up.
I introduced Mrs. White to Colonel Mustard.
Hello. Hello.
I noticed that Mrs. White and Yvette flinched.
There was thunder and lightning.
To make a long story short--
Too late!
you all arrived.
The gong struck the cook.
We went into the dining room.
Mrs. Peacock sat here.
Professor Plum sat here.
Mrs. White sat here.
Mr. Green, Miss Scarlet, Colonel Mustard.
This chair was vacant.
We all revealed we'd received a letter.
Get on with it!
The point is... blackmail!
This came out after dinner in the study.
You're right!
Mr. Green stood here.
Mrs. Peacock here.
Miss Scarlet here.
Professor Plum here.
Colonel Mustard and Mrs. White.
Get on with it!
Mr. Boddy went to get the surprise packages.
You opened your presents.
Mr. Boddy switched off the lights.
- Aah! Aah! - Aah!
Oh, grand.
Mr. Boddy lay on the floor apparently dead.
He was dead!
He was bashed later on the head.
Okay, I made a mistake.
Why was Mr. Boddy pretending to be dead?
He realized his scheme had misfired,
and the gunshot was intended for him.
Look. The bullet grazed his ear.
To escape death, he pretended to be dead.
The gunman tried to kill him.
But remember what happened next.
Mrs. Peacock took a drink.
You said, ''Maybe it's poisoned.''
She screams. Aah!
We took her to the sofa.
Mr. Green...
Well, I had to stop her screaming.
Then, more screaming.
Yvette! The billiard room!
We all rushed out.
One of us wasn't here. No.
- No? - No?
Maybe one of us was murdering the cook.
Who wasn't here with us?
Do you know?
I do.
While we stood here,
trying to stop Yvette from panicking,
someone could've stayed in here,
picked up the dagger,
run down the hall,
and stabbed the cook!
We might've seen him running back.
Not if they used this secret passage.
He ran down this to the study.
That's where it comes out?
Yes!
What?
How did you know?
I've known all along.
You could be the murderer.
Ridiculous. If I was, would I reveal how I did it?
Well, who else knew about the secret passage?
We found it, Mustard and me.
You found it. You could've known.
I didn't.
Why should we believe you?
Because she was with us in the billiard room.
Why was the cook murdered?
She had nothing to do with Mr. Boddy.
Of course she did.
I gathered you here
because you were all implicated in Mr. Boddy's blackmail.
Didn't anyone deduce the others were involved, too?
What others?
The cook and Yvette.
No.
That's how he got his information.
Before blackmailing anyone,
Mr. Boddy had to discover their guilty secret.
The cook and Yvette were his accomplices.
I see.
So whoever knew...
that the cook was involved... killed her?
Yes.
I know, because I was Mr. Boddy's butler,
that the cook had worked for one of you.
Who?
You recognized Yvette.
Don't deny it.
What do you mean?
I'm not denying anything.
Another denial.
Okay, I knew Yvette.
My husband had an affair with her,
but I didn't care.
You knew Yvette, too.
She worked for me.
You, also, sir.
We've already established
that you were one of Miss Scarlet's clients.
That's why you wanted those negatives--
photographs of you and Yvette in flagrante delicto.
Boddy threatened to send them to my mother,
which would've killed her.
That would've been an achievement,
since you said she's dead already.
So, he had the motive.
You all did.
Where was Mr. Boddy killed?
Don't you see? Look.
We returned to the study.
Mr. Boddy was pretending to be dead,
but someone knows he's alive.
I explained that I'd invited you here.
We realized only one other person was here.
The cook!
Well, where is he?
Aah!
By now she was dead.
We laid her down.
Someone slipped through the same secret passage.
Again?
Of course. Back to the study.
The murderer was in the secret passage.
Meanwhile, Mr. Boddy had been on the floor.
He jumped up.
The murderer came out of here,
picked up the candlestick.
Mr. Boddy followed us into here,
looking for an escape.
The murderer crept up...
and killed him!
Will you stop that?
No.
Then he threw him into the toilet
and rejoined us in the kitchen.
Who wasn't in the kitchen the entire time?
Whoever it was is the murderer.
[Toilet Flushing]
We locked the weapons up
and ran to the front door...
to throw away the key.
The motorist! I didn't throw it.
I put it in my pocket.
Someone could've removed it
and substituted another.
We were all in a huddle.
Anyone could've done that.
Wait a minute.
Colonel Mustard has a top-secret Pentagon job.
Mrs. White's husband was a nuclear physicist, and...
Yvette is a link between them.
What's your top-secret job?
He's working on the secret
of the next fusion bomb.
How did you know?
Can you keep a secret? So can I.
Is this a plot, or did Mustard do it alone?
We shall see.
Bad luck that motorist arrived at that moment.
Not luck. I invited him.
You did?
Everyone here was Mr. Boddy's victim or accomplice.
Everyone who's died gave him information about one of you.
I got them here
so they'd give evidence against him.
What about that motorist?
What information did he have?
He was my driver during the war.
What was he holding over you?
He knew that I was a war profiteer.
I stole essential air force radio parts,
and I sold them on the black market.
That's how I made all my money.
But that doesn't make me a murderer.
A lot of our airmen died
because their radios didn't work.
Was the policeman working for Mr. Boddy, too?
The cop was from Washington.
He was on my payroll.
I bribed him so I could carry on with business.
Mr. Boddy found out.
Oh, my God!
Oh, please.
And the singing telegram girl?
She was my patient once.
I had an affair with her.
That's how I lost my license.
Mr. Boddy found that out, too.
Well, let's put her in the study.
So...
now you all know why they died.
Whoever killed Mr. Boddy
also wanted his accomplices dead.
How did the murderer know about them?
I'd guessed that this young singer told Boddy about me.
I knew nothing about any of you.
The murderer needed to get the weapons.
He stole the key.
We followed Mustard's suggestion
to split up and search the house.
That's right.
It was Colonel Mustard's suggestion.
Someone got away from his partner
and hurried to the study.
On the desk was Mr. Boddy's envelope.
It contained photographs and letters--
the evidence of Mr. Boddy's informants.
Where is the envelope now?
Gone.
Destroyed.
Perhaps in the fire.
The only possible place.
Aha!
Having found out the whole story,
the murderer went to the cupboard,
took out the wrench...
then we found the secret passage to the lounge,
where we found the motorist dead.
And we couldn't get in.
Yvette ran to the cupboard,
got the gun, and shot the door open.
Then the doorbell rang.
[Doorbell Rings]
Whoever it is, they've got to go away,
or they'll be killed.
Ooh!
Have you ever given any thought
to the kingdom of heaven?
What?
Repent. The kingdom of heaven's at hand.
You ain't whistling Dixie.
Armageddon is almost upon us.
It's already here.
Go away!
Your souls are in danger.
Our lives are in danger!
The cop arrived next.
We locked him up.
We forgot the cupboard was unlocked.
We split up,
and the murderer switched off the electricity.
Oh, my God!
Not again.
Turn on the lights!
Sorry. Didn't mean to frighten you.
You're a bit late!
I hate when he does that.
Then there were three more murders.
Who did it?
None of us killed Mr. Boddy or the cook.
Who did?
The person who wasn't with us.
Yvette.
- Yvette? - Yvette?
She was listening to our conversation.
She thought he was dead.
While we examined the bullet hole,
she got the dagger,
ran to the kitchen,
and stabbed the cook.
We didn't hear her scream
because Mrs. Peacock was screaming.
Yvette screamed, and we ran to her.
When did she kill Mr. Boddy?
When I said.
We ran to the kitchen.
Yvette hid to check Mr. Boddy.
He got up and followed them.
She hit him on the head
and dragged him to the toilet.
Why?
To create confusion.
It worked.
Why did she do it?
She was acting under orders
from the person who later killed her.
- Who? - Who?
Who?
Was it one of her clients?
Or was it a jealous wife?
Or an adulterous doctor?
No.
It was her employer, Miss Scarlet.
That's a lie!
Is it?
You used her.
You killed the motorist
when we split up to search the house.
How could I have known about the passage?
Easy. Yvette told you.
When we split up again,
you switched off the electricity.
It was easy for you on the ground floor.
You got the rope, strangled Yvette,
ran to the library,
killed the cop,
picked up the gun where Yvette dropped it,
opened the front door,
recognized the singing telegram from her photograph,
and shot her.
You've no proof.
The gun is missing.
Gentlemen, turn out your pockets.
Ladies, empty your purses.
Whoever has the gun is the murderer.
Brilliantly worked out, Wadsworth.
I congratulate you.
Me, too.
Shut up!
I don't understand one thing.
One thing?
Why did you do it?
Half of Washington knows what you do.
You were in no real danger.
They don't know my real business.
My business is secrets.
Yvette found them out for me.
The secrets of Senator Peacock's defense committee,
of Colonel Mustard's fusion bomb,
Professor Plum's U.N. contacts,
and the work of your husband,
the nuclear physicist.
So, it is political.
You're a communist!
No, communism is just a red herring.
Like all members of the oldest profession,
I'm a capitalist,
and I'll sell my secrets--
your secrets--
to the highest bidder.
What if we don't cooperate?
You will, or I'll expose you.
We'll expose you. Six murders?
It won't enhance your reputation at the U.N.
if it's revealed you've been implicated
in adultery with a patient
and her death and the deaths of five others.
I might go up in their estimation.
And it's no good...
blackmailing me, madam.
I have no money.
Neither do I.
I know, sweetie pie.
You can pay me in government information.
All of you.
Except you, Wadsworth.
You as a mere butler
have no access to government secrets.
So, I'm afraid your moment has come.
Not so fast.
I do have a secret or two.
Such as?
The game's up.
There are no more bullets.
I won't fall for that.
One shot at Boddy,
two for the chandelier,
two at the lounge door,
and one for the singing telegram.
That's not six.
Count.
One shot at the chandelier.
That's 1 plus 2 plus 1 plus 1 .
No, 1 plus 1 plus 2 plus 1 .
Okay, 1 plus 2 plus 1 ... Shut up!
There's one bullet left.
Guess who's getting it?
[Ringing]
Ohh! Aah!
I'm only a guest.
Where's the chief?
Ah, Wadsworth, well done.
I did warn you, my dear.
Mr. Hoover is an expert on Armageddon.
Don't hate me for trying to shoot you.
Frankly, Scarlet, I don't give a damn.
There are no bullets left.
1 plus 2...
plus 1 ...
plus 2...
plus 1 is...
The murderer ran to the study,
picked up the rope and lead pipe,
ran to the billiard room,
strangled Yvette.
Ran to the library,
hit the cop with the lead pipe.
The singing telegram's at the door.
The murderer got the gun,
opened the door,
recognized the girl, shot her,
and ran back to the cellar.
But Colonel Mustard wasn't in the cellar.
No...but you were.
So?
You murdered them all.
You were missing during the murders,
and the cook was once yours.
Don't you remember your fatal mistake?
You told us at dinner
we were eating one of your favorite recipes,
and monkey's brains, though popular in Cantonese cuisine,
are not often found in Washington, D.C.
Is that what we ate?
Why would I murder the others?
In case they knew your secret.
So this had nothing to do
with the disappearing nuclear physicist.
Communism was just a red herring.
Mrs. Peacock did it all.
There's no proof.
Well, the gun is missing.
Gentlemen, turn out your pockets.
Ladies, empty your purses.
Whoever has the gun...
is the murderer.
Very well.
What do you propose to do about it?
Nothing.
Nothing?
I don't approve of murder,
but you've done a public service
by ridding it of a blackmailer and his informers.
What happens when the police arrive?
Why should the police come?
Nobody's called them.
You mean...
That's right.
I suggest we stack the bodies in the cellar,
lock it, leave quietly one at a time,
and pretend this never happened.
Great idea.
I'll leave first... if you don't mind.
Be my guest.
In fact,
we owe you a vote of thanks.
I told you I didn't do it.
What if the authorities find out?
The F.B.I. will handle that.
My call from Mr. Hoover.
I work for him.
That's how I know about you.
There's one thing I don't understand.
One thing?
Who was Mrs. Peacock taking bribes from?
A foreign power.
Her husband controls defense contracts.
There'll be a cover-up?
What could be gained by exposure?
Does the F.B.I. clean up after multiple murder?
Yes. That's why it's run by a man called Hoover.
Oh, Mrs. Peacock.
How did you know my name?
The kingdom of heaven is at hand.
Okay, take her away.
Take your hands off me!
I'm a senator's wife!
Wadsworth, we got her.
You see, it's like the Mounties.
We always get our man.
Mrs. Peacock was a man?
Would anyone care for fruit or dessert?
Sorry, didn't mean to frighten anyone.
You're too late!
Then there were three more murders.
- Who did it? - Who did it?
Let's consider each murder one by one.
You knew Mr. Boddy was still alive.
Even psychiatrists can tell the difference
between live and dead patients.
Your shot missed in the dark,
so you pretended he was dead
and killed him later, unobserved.
Right. He was missing after we found the cook.
But he was with us when we found Yvette.
How'd he kill the cook?
I didn't!
You expect us to believe that?
You should. You killed the cook--
your ex-cook, who informed on you.
You made one fatal mistake.
At dinner, Mrs. Peacock told us she was eating
one of her favorite recipes.
And monkey's brains, though popular in Cantonese cuisine,
are not often to be found in Washington, D.C.
Colonel Mustard, when we saw the motorist,
you took the key to the weapons cupboard,
then you suggested that we all split up.
You crossed the hall, took the wrench,
ran to the conservatory, entered the lounge,
killed the motorist with a blow on the head...
like that!
This is incredible.
Not so incredible as what happened next.
After we all split up again,
I went upstairs with you, Mrs. White.
And, while I was in the master bedroom,
you hurried downstairs and turned off the electricity,
got the rope and throttled Yvette.
Your husband was shtupping Yvette.
That's why you killed him, too.
Yes.
Yes, I did it. I killed Yvette.
I hated her...so...much,
it--it...the f-- it--flame, flames...
flames...on the side of my face,
breathing, breath-- heaving breaths,
heaving...
Miss Scarlet crossed to the library
and hit the cop, whom she'd been bribing,
with a lead pipe.
True or false?
True. Who are you, Perry Mason?
So, Mr. Green shot the singing telegram.
I didn't!
Nobody's left.
But I didn't do it!
The gun's missing. Whoever's got the gun, shot the girl.
I shot her.
- You? - You?
So, it was you.
I'd planned to expose you.
I know. I'd rather expose myself.
Please. There are ladies present.
You thought Mr. Boddy was dead. Why?
You'd never met him until tonight.
You're Mr. Boddy!
Wait a minute!
So who did I kill?
My butler.
Oh, shucks.
He was expendable, like all of you.
I'm grateful to you all
for disposing of my network of spies.
Saved me a lot of trouble.
Now there's no evidence against me.
This has nothing to do
with my disappearing nuclear physicist husband
or Colonel Mustard's work with the fusion bomb?
No.
Communism was just a red herring.
The police will be here.
None of you will get away with this.
Why should the police come? Nobody's called them.
You mean...
Oh, of course!
Why shouldn't we get away with it?
We'll lock the bodies in the cellar,
leave quietly,
and forget this ever happened.
And you'll go on blackmailing us.
Of course. Why not?
I'll tell you why not.
Aah!
Oh, good shot, Green.
Very good.
Are you a cop?
No. I'm a plant.
I thought you were a fruit.
Very funny.
F.B.I. That phone call from J. Edgar Hoover was for me.
I told you I didn't do it.
All right, who done it?
- They...she did... - That lady...he...
- This one... I... - Gentlemen...
They all did it!
But if you want to know who killed Mr. Boddy,
I did, in the hall, with the revolver.
Okay, Chief, take them away.
I'm going home and sleep with my wife.