POIROT
Oh, yes! And what time do we call this?
Didn't wanna take you outta bed.
Here.
No good leaving all this stuff for 56B, they're on holiday.
- All of them? - Oh, yeah.
Captain Hastings's gon'off shooting things,
the secretary's gon'off to visit her sister in Folkestone.
- What about the French one? - Somewhere funny.
- Sent me a postcard with goats on it. - Oh, yeah, I remember.
Let's hope it keeps fun for him.
Please, Miss.
Thank you.
Mr. Poirot, how pleased I am to see you .
- Mademoiselle? - Lyall, Pamela Lyall.
I recognized you in the hotel, I am a great admirer.
- May I cling to you, Mr. Poirot? - Yes, it would be a pleasure, mademoiselle.
Are you in danger?
It's against all my instincts, but the man persists.
And the hotel being so empty, there's a great danger
of me getting stuck for the rest of the holiday.
Ah! The galloping Major Barnes.
He's here for the fishing, he tells me.
The behaviour of the English abroad is something
I've always found peculiar.
At least, he's not a bottom pincher, Mr. Poirot.
Look at them, troublemakers, always looking for a fight.
Perhaps, but for me the English is more cold-booded.
His violence is more calculated.
...day at sea, my wife is exhausted, so, let's go for the hotel, as fast as possible.
Whith all our luggage intact.
Make sure it's secure. Stick right behind the other car.
Excuse me, but aren't these the cars from the Palace Hotel?
- Yes. So? - We're staying there too, you know.
Well, you'll have to wait for them to come back.
For the hotel, please, driver. And try not to hit anything.
Come on, darling.
Good Heavens, I do believe that's Valentine Chantry.
Dacres, that was.
Shouldn't think this place was quite her style, too quiet for her.
She's rather marvellous, isn't she?
An animal attraction, would you think, Mr. Poirot?
Well, well, well, things are looking up.
Hello.
Hello. I've been looking all over the place for you, little lady.
- Not out to fishing today, Major? - Yes, earlier, but not much luck.
Perhaps, Major, you were fishing too close to the shore.
I noticed you by the harbor.
I expect you're right. Too much damn dynamiting going on.
- Dynamiting? - The fishermen drop dynamite round here.
Damned lazy beggers. The fish, not being fools, keep out of seek.
At last. Now, will you get the luggage off
immediately and take it straight to our rooms.
I do not understand why weren't we waited properly.
Well, I think it's simply wonderful, it's so unspoiled.
It is pretty enough. But such a long way to come
and such an awful journey.
You'll enjoy bathing and lazing about.
We could do that in Brixham. Why you wanted to drag us all this way?
- You'll adore it here, I know. - I can see that you mean to enjoy yourself.
Oh, well, give me a bath and a bed.
Will be better in the morning.
Tony, darling, my cigarette case.
She makes me feel so undercooked. I am so patchy still.
She really is so lucky.
Oh, dear, that bathing dress is a mistake.
- Good morning. - Good morning.
Good morning.
Lovely day.
- Shall I put yours here, darling? - Yes, so I get a bit of sun.
I feel so deadfully faded, but I freckle, rather than going brown.
- Have you ever been to Rhodes before? - No. Is it lovely, isn't it?
Such a clever idea of yours, darling.
I scarcely heard of the place. I thought it was Greek or Turkish.
I had no idea it was Aegean Isle. If it were more near England...
- Did you come from Brindisi? - Yes, we came on the ferry last night.
The sea is simply lovely, so blue.
I think we ought to go in there, don't you?
Oh, yes, rather, in a minute.
Just stretch our towel a little flatter, will you, darling?
-Tony, darling, would you mind? - What's that?
I've left a little pot of face cream in our bathing room.
I meant to bring it wih me.. Do get it, please, will you?
Yes, darling.
He must be crazy about her, wouldn't you say?
It is lovely, Douglas, so warm. Do come.
Aren't you going in?
Oh! I like to get well hot enough first. I like my dip last thing.
Oh, dear! I can't get this thing on. I am hopeless...
It wonder-- Would you?...
- Can I do it for you? - Thank you, you are kind.
I'm such a fool on doing things.
You are a clever boy, you've done it.
We must've been on the same ferry.
- It's Douglas, isn't it? - Yes, Douglas Gold.
Darling, Douglas has been so kind to me. My husband, Tony.
- How do you do? - How do you do?
- And your wife's called..? - Marjorie.
Yes...
Don't you think that human beings tend to reproduce certain patterns, Mr Poirot?
- Stereotyped patterns. - Precisément, mademoiselle.
Your wife is not with you this afternoon, Douglas?
No, she was not feeling too well. Probably too much sun this morning,
so, I came alone.
Well, we'll have to make to make the best of it, on our own.
- Madame Gold. - Mr. Poirot.
I was noticing this particular digging.
They have here fresh water and sea water fossils.
- Fascinating. - Yes. And what a beautiful day.
Douglas and I are always lucky on our weather.
- You do not bathe this afternoon, madame? - No, only once a day.
We'd arranged to go on a tour to the old the city this afternoon,
- but somehow we missed each other. - Indeed?
You know, Mr. Poirot,
when one sees so much trouble and unhappiness,
and so many couples divorcing each other, and that sort of thing,
one has to feel very grateful for one's own happiness.
It is pleasant to hear you saying so, madame.
That's why I feel so sorry for people aren't happy.
- Mrs. Chantry, for instance. - Madame Chantry?
In a way, one feels sorry for her.
I mean, in spite of all her money and good looks,
she is the sort of woman I think that men would get tired of, very easily.
Don't you think so?
Men are just like children. They believe anything.
I gather you are a detective, Mr. Poirot.
- How long are you in Rhodes? - Sadly, madame, I leave on Saturday.
Douglas, a pink gin. I positively must have one.
Had a nice bathe, Tony darling? Hasn't it been a marvellous day, Miss Lyall?
Tony?
- Tony? - Good afternoon.
Shall we wander over there?
Valentine certainly has her methods.
- Mademoiselle, I do not like all this. - Don't you? Nor do I.
No, let's be honest. I suppose I do like it, really.
In fact, I've arranged a little excursion for tomorrow...
Two hours driving and all this lubricous climbing only to see another ruin.
But wait till you see the view.
I say!
C'est magnifique!
Here it is!
Look! Look, a snake!
- Beautiful. - Be careful!
I don't like it here, I think we should go back.
Damn place, it isn't safe to walkin'.
They're everywhere.
In the old days, Rhodes was known as the " Island of Snakes ".
- You can see the marking so clearly. - As a warning, madame.
Nature gives the quarry of the viper a chance to identify his attacker.
If every killer was as cleraly marked, I would be without a job.
Do we have to have this? We can't hear ourselves speak.
Let us not be disrespectful the local customers.
I can't understand a word of this menu.
Take mine, it's got some English. But the translation is a bit rough.
Is this wine? Looks like pink gin.
Douglas has asked it, I think it's marvellous.
- ...terrible. - But now they do it all the time.
I belong to the old-fashion generation who doesn't believe in divorce.
This sort of atitude there is to life nowadays, that if you do a thing you don't like it,
you get yourself out of it as quickly as possible.
Easy to marry, easy divorce. I hate that.
You seem to know a great deal about marriage, Mrs. Gold.
Oh, I'm sorry, I-I...
It strikes you've been listening to far too many scandals.
Just because a woman is good looking, people come down on her like a ton of bricks.
Oh! But I didn't mean...
- Oh, dear... - Marjorie!
There was no need for that.
Yes, but I can't imagine why you brought your wife on holiday, anyway, Gold.
- What do you mean? - Because you only have eyes for Valentine.
Don't be ridiculous, you must be drunk.
If you and my wife think you'll put this one over on me, you're very much mistaken.
I'll not be got rid of, as easy as all that.
Ladies and gentlemen, are you ready to order now?
Parakalo.
The Bowels in Spit.
I have your assurance it is the kidneys of a lamb?
C'est parfait.Then, for me, the Bowels in Spit!. Efharisto.
Mr. Poirot, forgive me. I thought I might be alone here.
May I give you some advice, Madame?
Yes, yes, please.
Bien...
- Your husband loves you, I know it. - How can you know it?
She's got hold of him, body and soul, he doesn't think of me anymore.
I don't count. I can't bare it, I can't bare it.
Then, my advise to you, madame, is this:
leave this place, before it is too late.
Too late? What do you mean?
- You're frightening me. - Yes.
- That is my intention. - Why? Why?
It is my advice to you.
Leave this island, if you value your life.
We'll be sorry to see you go, Mr. Poirot. Your ticket, with your passport.
- And my reservation, it has been confirmed? - A sleeping booth on the night boat...
Merci.
Will you be taking dinner tonight?
Yes. Something light before I travel.
Major Barnes has provided the kitchen with some barbouni.
Ah! A red mullet would be ideal. Merci.
Catch them unaware, first thing in the morning.
Non, non, non.
Please, with care. With care.
Regardez. Look. Là
The others ones here.
He says it's all lies, but he's infatuated.
He says he wants a divorce, I don't know what to do.
It's terrible.
Mademoiselle.
It's such a shame you're leaving, Mr. Poirot.
I don't know how you can when things are heating up?
The Chantrys and the Gold are getting more and more into higgle.
It's rather shocking.
Marjorie thinks Valentine will divorce Chantry and marry Douglas.
Really?
Look, they're over there.
I can't see Chantry giving up without a fight.
Who could have predicted such passion, Mr. Poirot?
There is a crisis of the nerves, certainement.
Look.
- This is a bit silly, isn't it? - I quite agree, pointless spoiling everything.
My feelings exactly. Shall we go together?
Oh, dear...
I was half hoping there would be a murder, so that you'd stay.
Garçon!
Jolly good shot.
The ladies've gone off on an evening drive.
Some sort of a reconciliation, I gather.
Well, there's been already too much bad temper'n biggering.
Indeed.
Sorry you're leaving, Poirot, not've much time for a chat.
You've been very busy, major. The mallot was excellent.
- Glad you enjoyed it. - Oh, yes.
Where did you buy it?
What do you mean? Had to go all way out for that.
Non, non, non, Major. Your interests are closer to the shore.
- My car, please. - Certainly, Mr Poirot.
The Italians, I notice, are strenghtening their harbor defenses for military use.
You're very sharp-eyed, Mr. Poirot.
The sharp eyes are important in both our professions, Major.
- Efharisto. - Merci.
- Well done. Well done, Douglas. - Thank you. Shall I?
- Had a good game, gentlemen? - Capital.
Fellow is too good for me. Ran out for the break 46.
Pure fluke, I assure you.
- What wil you have? - A pink gin, please.
- And you, Major? This one's on me. - Very kind of you. I'll have a whisky and soda.
And two whísky and sodas.
My bag ... Parakalo.
I have worked pretty hard all my life, you know, no time for holidays.
Don't get me wrong, I've shared a bit of life, these past few years, I can tell you.
Excuse me, Major.
Tony, it was too divine, the most marvellous idea of Mrs Gold.
- You all ought to have come. - Where have you been, darling?
Up to the Temple of Apolo, to see the sunset.
The most marvellous view, darling. Right accross the Turkey.
- We must go tomorrow. - Sounds like a good idea.
- Miss Lyall, what will you have? - Oh, thank you. A "Sidecar", please.
- Darling? - Pink Gin.
- Oh, have that one. I'll order another. - Rather.
- Mrs. Gold? - "Orangeade", please.
- Barman, could we have a "sidecar". - Oh, I needed that.
Are you sure you don't want something stronger, Mrs. Gold?
Alright, a gin and " ginger beer ", please.
- Darling! - Well, it feels like a celebration.
Right you are. Gin and " ginger beer ". Barman!
Yes, please?
Will you mind steping over here, sir?
What I've been meaning to say all the time we've been here
is that your clothes are so clever. Such a marvellous line.
- Are you alright? What's the matter? - Need to drink some water.
Waiter!
I feel rather queer.
- Something gone down the wrong way? - I can't get my breath.
Waiter, parakalo. Quickly, some water.
Commander Chantry!
What's the matter, Val?
I don't know. That drink tasted queer.
The pink gin? This?
Give her some room.
Drink this, Val. Try to drink this.
- Who knows what to do? - I'll get a doctor.
That was my drink, Gold. I've not touched it.
What the hell did you put in it?
She's dead! She's dead!
You killed her. You meant to kill me, but you killed her.
I'll see you hang for this, Gold. I'll see you hang for this.
I-I-- I didn't do anything.
I tell you again, I am on holiday!
Vous êtes vraîment des imbéciles!
I am a Belgian citizen you have no right to detain me.
You will not leave this island,
until you explain all your movements exactly.
How can I can leave the island if my ship has gone? Idiot!
Mademoiselle Lyall.
What is the the matter? What are you doing here?
Mr. Poirot, thank God. I thought you'd left.
You must come quickly. Valentine Chantry is dead.
Someone poisoned her husband's glass and she drank it.
- I feared such an outcome. - And why didn't you do something?
Do what? What is there to do, before the event?
Tell the Police that someone has murder in their heart? No.
I will come.
And now, monsieur, I have more pressing matters to attend to.
I am a detective, not a spy.
Kindly send my bags to the hotel Palace D'Rhodi.
Oh, I was attracted to her, who wouldn't be?
It was whitin the bounds of propriety, Poirot.
- Did she confide in you? - A little.
Was Valentine Chantry a happy woman, would you say?
In her marriage, you mean?
- She was rather lost and afraid. - Afraid of what?
Of Chantry, she thought he was jealous.
- Of you? - Of anyone who paid attention to her.
She was so helpless in many ways, Poirot. I felt protective towards her.
But, somehow, everything got out of hand.
Chantry behaving like a bull at a gate, then Marjorie getting hysterical.
Monsieur Gold...
Do you love your wife?
Of course I do.
She is all the world to me.
You are catholic?
Yes.
Your faith will be a great consolation to you.
What's he still doing here?
You've been here too long already. You better go.
Poirot!
Poirot! They'll hang me for this.
Not while I have the power to prevent it, monsieur.
The poison was contained in the empty bottle
which we discovered in Mr. Gold's dinner jacket pocket.
It is safe to touch. The only fingerprints on it were Douglas Gold's.
Mrs. Chantry was a very beautiful woman.
A public affair was taking place between her and Douglas Gold.
But Commander Chantry was a very possessive husband.
He would not release his wife.
The lover poisons the husband's glass and then,
just when his attention is elsewhere, the wife drinks it instead. Eko.
Oh! It is a scene worthy of the Italian opera, Inspector.
I assume that you asked Douglas Gold to empty the contents of his pockets himself.
Yes.
Then it is hardly surprising that his fingerprints should be found in the container,
is it?
Do you not find it peculiar, Inspector,
that this calculating murderer should be discovered
with this very bottle of poison in his pocket?
There is no doubt, signore.
When the cold-blooded Englishman comes out into the sun,
perhaps it warms his passion.
Ah! Basta! (Enough).
Take this nosy man from here. He cannot see the prisoner, understand?
- But Mr. Gold does not admit his guilty. - On the contrary, he protests his innocence.
Just because the wrong person died, that is no defense.
What do you mean, I can't pick up my passport?
There are express instructions from the Police, Commander.
I want my wife's body given a decen burial back in England,
not in some out post of the Italian empire.
Now, there's a ship leaving this afternoon, and there'll be a hell of a stink if I'm not in it.
Commander Chantry?
There is no recompense I can make for the loss of your wife.
Nothing I can say to you that's adequate. Only that I have lost a husband.
Oh, Mr. Poirot, if only we had taken your advice.
Advice? What advice?
Mr. Poirot recommended that we leave the island, some days ago.
Well, I wish you'd warned me also, Mr. Poirot.
- You are going to visit your husband, madame? - Yes.
Then believe me when I tell you that he is innocent.
And you may rest assured, that he will soon be released.
Excuse me.
If you please, one tisane on the terrace. Merci.
What's going off, Poirot?
Making those confounded mysteries and it's useless asking you to explain.
I have told you, Douglas Gold is innocent.
But that means that one of us poisoned the glass.
Indeed. Merci.
And we shall know who, when we discover from where the poison came.
But then we have the problem, eh?
The Police will not allow me any other facilities.
For them, the case is dried and cut.
Then, I may be able to help you.
I trust I may speak among friends.
The Forensic officer is a friend of mine.
You understand, Mr. Poirot, this is a matter of extreme delicacy.
Mais oui.
Came out here on holiday, Mr. Poirot. Fell in love with the place.
- You have examined the poison, Monsieur? - Yes, it's local, Rhodian.
Very common. The Knights of St John were Hospitalables, before they became warriors.
It's one of their potions. Medicinal in its diluted form,
lethal when neat. It's snake bite.
It's from the fangs of the long viper.
The island is still full of superstition.
It's called " diliterio ockias ".
Where would such a poison be obtained?
Not on the shelves of a pharmacist. Some herbalist or quack.
If you really want to search, try the streets 'round here.
Fascists!
There are so many streets. Where do we begin?
Mademoiselle.
We must now appear the mad English who go out in the midday sun.
And must trust the old town to give up her secrets.
No. You can't come in.
It will be all right.
Grandmother?
We have a visit.
Don't be afraid.
Kalispera.
She wants snake poison, grandmother.
Such a lovely young lady, why?
It is not good, no.
No, no, you don't understand, I don't want to buy some poison.
I want to know if you sold any to someone else.
Yesterday or the day before...
Preen dio immeras.
She is talking about another person, someone English, two days ago.
There was someone. The day before yesterday.
Yes, a person came here. Yes, two days ago.
Angles? Tall, megaloss?
And his hair was it like mine or darker?
No, not an Englishman.
It was a woman like her, not so young and pretty.
It was not an English man, it was a woman.
Not man, lady.
Yes, English lady.
Poirot! The poison was sold to Mrs. Gold.
Of course.
So, you comprehend?
But why ever did she help her husband poison Chantry?
My dear Mademoiselle Pamela,
it is not a question of who failed to murder the Commander Chantry,
but whom, and for what reason, succeeded in murdering his wife.
- What happened? - A scream, a disturbance.
- A disturbance? - Yes, the passports were stolen.
He was distracted by a scream, Mrs. Gold was disturbed.
A mantis flew in and settled in her pillow.
After last night's terrible events, he left the desk.
Is Commander Chantry still in the hotel?
No.
Viens! (Come!)
- Marjorie Gold and Chantry? - Oh, yes, Mademoiselle Pamela!
The eternal triangle, do you remember?
But not the one that you were supposed to see.
It was only the reactions of Mrs. Gold
and the jealous blusters of the Comander Chantry
that made you think that Douglas Gold
was in love for the Comander's wife, Valentine.
Oh, yes! It was skillfully done.
You see, Marjorie Gold and Comander Chantry
had started their affair in England.
They planned to meet here and stage their crime publicly.
Chantry inserted the poison into his own drink
and passed it to his wife.
She drank it and, then, in the confusion,
he slipped the bottle of poison into the pocket of Douglas Gold.
How awful.
But now we must stop them, before they can leave the island.
Already they have obtained their passports.
I will check the boat for Brindisi. You ask if anyone has seen them.
Excuse me. Are there English people on board? English people?
No.There are no English people on board, snag, I'd have seen them.
- Where does this boat go? - Brindisi.
Grazie.
Major Barnes!
I have to keep up appearances, Poirot.
The swordfish is five days old.
It's not the Italians I've been keeping my eye on, it's the English.
Commander Chantry has taken to fishing.
He Mrs. Gold are heading out to the Turkey's coast.
When did you both realized about Mrs. Gold?
Her performance was whitout flaw, except for one particular.
Poirot! Ahead!
That scene that she created at the tavern,
it suggested that Douglas wanted the divorce.
Et bien, I had just observed that Monsieur Gold was a catholic.
The whole thing, it did not make sense, unless,
of course, we were watching the elaborate charade...
- Tony, look, a boat! - Can he be armed, Poirot?
I do not see they'd risk bringing arms into the island,
their method is more discreet.
Then I can deal with the Commander.
- That bloody Belgian busybodied! - Can't the boat go faster?
- Faster, faster! - Have you no dynamite?
- Dynamite? - Yes, dynamite.
- Get the dynamite. - Divert the boat, fast!
- What is it? - He's found some dynamite!
Stop immediatly!
Stop the dynamite or we shall fire!
Stop the boat!
Fire!!
- Mon Dieu! Is he alright? - You crazy English!
If you don't stop trying to kill each other, I shall put you all under arrest.
That includes you, Mr. Porrot.
Poor Douglas Gold.
He is staying on, you know, to the end.
Well, he should leave.
I told his wife to leave, but she took no notice.
Can't you stay on a few more days?
Ah! Impossible.
Je regrête. (I am sorry).
I really enjoyed our little adventure.
Poirot, trying to sneak off the island again, are you?
Not at all, Major. Not at all.
I thought I should leave before the Inspector changes his mind, eh?
Look, if you see me at the harbor,
pretend you don't know me, hm?
Where are you headed, Major? Abyssinia?
How did you know that?
Well, I assumed you'd want to be there for the Ostriche's shooting season.
Au revoir.
Goodbye, Monsieur Poirot.
I hope we shall meet again.
Au revoir, Mademoiselle.
Translation & resync by titta for Addic7ed.com