01x09 - The 4:50 From Paddington

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4.50 From Paddington

Is there time?

Just.

A letter from Edmund.

Hm?

He's met a girl
and married her in London.

"We've tied the knot now
without any fuss, just in case.

"Her name is Martine. She's French.

"I'll bring her down
to meet you all before I sail."

If I'm asleep when they come,

tell them

tell them from us

it's only love that matters.

Love...not money.

However much you may have, actually.

Have I said goodbye to the others?

My precious children.

Emma,

Alfred,

Harold,

Edith,

Cedric.

I love them all so much.

She's gone.

Oh, Dad.

TEN YEARS LATER

Tickets! Tickets!

A single to St Mary Mead,
if you please.

First class.

Thank you.

Jane!

Fetch out the damson gin !

I'm catching the 4.50 from Paddington.

ST. MARY MEAD

All aboard!

Oh, Roddy.

Don't...

Last service for tea, madam.

Roddy.

No, don't.

I've just seen a m*rder.



There's nothing in the headlines.

Have a look in the Stop Press.

They must have found
the poor woman's body by now.

When I changed trains

that attendant said
he was going to report it immediately.

And you told him you'd be staying here?

Yes, I gave him
your telephone number for the police.

- He did believe you?
- Why the devil shouldn't he?

Oh! I'm not so sure.

The awful thing is
I'm beginning to doubt it myself.

Last week I put sugar on my kippers.

You don't think I'm going doolally?

Anyone less doolally than you, Elspeth,
I have yet to meet.

Should I still go tomorrow?
Roddy will be so disappointed.

It's his first Christmas without Margaret.

And only your second without Arthur.

If I can be of some comfort to the poor,
sweet man

Then you must do your duty.

Is it very hot in Ceylon?

And sticky.

I've taken plenty of light frocks.

I'm rather worried about perspiring, Jane.

I'll just have to change frequently.

You're a lady, Elspeth!
You won't perspire. You'll glow.

Now, if we get our skates on

we should just catch the 10.33.

Where to? I've had enough of trains.

BRITISH TRANSPORT COMMISSION
RAILWAY POLICE

I now apologise that no-one

thought to relay
the astonishing news to you sooner.

- Astonishing?
- Yeah.

I'm surprised we didn't get the headlines.

Amazing discovery. No Corpse On Train.

I told you they wouldn't believe me.

Now, be fair, Mrs McGillicuddy.

The attendant did call the local police.
They called us.

I interrupted major pickpocket
surveillance

to help identify the offending train,

which was then held at the next stop

with considerable disruption
to the timetable.

A full search was carried out.

There was no body.

And the passengers?
Did you look in their luggage?

- Why?
- You read about Bodies in Suitcases, don't you?

I know what must have happened.

The m*rder*r pushed the body out of the train.

Have you any idea how hard it is

to open a train door at speed,

let alone shove a body out?

In any case

on the off-chance
that Charles Atlas is the m*rder*r,

all the drivers and the guards on that line

have been asked to keep an eye open
for a body by the track

So far, the phones have remained silent.

Now,I have work to do

Which train was it, may I ask,
and where was it searched?

Police information is confidential, dear.

If I was 20 years younger,
I would put you across my knee

and tan your hide, you snotty pup.

And it's railway information

not police information when you think of it,

and we all own the railways now, don't we?

I've got the timetable.

- Still no sign.
- Oh, dear.

- Did they have a map?
- They did.

That's us.

The very same train.

Do you suppose the m*rder*r's on it?

I doubt he makes a habit
of strangling women on trains.

- No.
- It was the last carriage?

Third class.

How soon after the m*rder
did you reach Hampton Parva

and change for St Mary Mead?

The attendant said it was
seven minutes to the next station

and that was two minutes

at the most after I'd told him
what I'd seen.

lf we assume that the m*rder happened


and you arrived at the station at 5.35.

That train inspector said

this train was searched
at Brackhampton,

which would have been at 5.40.

here's where we are now

The tracks run side by side.

We must be almost there.

Would you mind strangling me, Elspeth?

Not at all, Jane.

Please don't mind us.

It's a bit rocky.

We're slowing down.

That's why the blind flew up when it did.

Where exactly are we?

Right slap-bang in the middle of nowhere,
by the look of it.

This is where you must have seen
the other train.

Yes, so it is, Jane.

Come on, Stoddard-West! Catch up!

Wait, wait, Eastley!

Alexander! James!

What did I tell you?

You are never, never to come this far
without my permission

- Sorry, Daddy.
- Sorry, Mr Eastley.

- It was my fault.
- J'excuse, Papa.

Non, je m'excuse.

What would your mother say
if you'd fallen in?

Come on. It's time to eat.

We slowed down around this curve.

The railway follows the boundary

of a very large estate
just before Brackhampton.

The house is Rutherford Hall.

Rutherford Hall.
That clangs a damn great bell.

I just can't...

Oh, maybe I am going doolally.

No, no, no, it'll come to you.

I only had a glimpse
but we were looking down.

The line runs along an embankment.

If that's where he pushed the body out,

it would have rolled into the grounds.

No wonder no-one's seen it by the track.

He was a lucky brute.

If it was luck.

It's the only place a train would be

going slowly enough to manage it.

It's just possible he chose the spot
very carefully indeed.

But why has no-one
at Rutherford Hall found her?

It could be unoccupied.

So many of our big houses
are being sold off.

No, it is occupied, Jane.
I've just remembered--

look

Rutherford Hall.
Cook-housekeeper for Christmas holidays.

Thank you again for my present.

And for yours.

I'd hate to run out of talcum powder
in that climate.

Oh, dear.

It's the first time
Mr. Lnch has been to the airport.

It's the first time I've been to Ceylon.

I hope the pilot knows the way.

Now, promise me
you won't do anything foolhardy.

I promise. Not on my own.

♪ I travel alone ♪

♪ Fair though the places
and faces I've known ♪

♪ When the dream is ended
and passion has flown ♪

♪ I travel alone ♪

♪ Free from love's illusion,
my heart is my own ♪

♪ I travel alone ♪

Quite, quite enchanting, Lucy.

Thank you, Mr Coward. I'll lay the table.

Not so fast.

A few words of heartfelt appreciation
on your last day.

Miss Eyelesbarrow

breezed in like a whirling dervish
a fortnight ago

to rescue me.

Standing in, not only for my secretary,

but also for my housekeeper.

Clearly, I overpay them both.

In August, she was in Turkey,
looking after a sultan.

Did you know that a sultan's wife
is called a sultana?

Every time I bite into a slice of fruitcake,
I wonder if...

- I'm so sorry.
- Miss Marple?

- Lucy!
- Sorry.

Whoever she is, dear,
speak to her about timing.

This one's for you, Dickie.

- Is that Lord Mountbatten?
- Yes.

Raymond said you wouldn't mind
my coming unannounced.

- I had no idea...
- Don't mention it.

It's lovely to meet you again.

How is Raymond?

You know my nephew.
Footloose and fancy-free.

Like you, Lucy.

And long may it be so.

I do what I do, I see who I see

I meet who I meet, and it's glorious.

It's lovely to meet you again, but...

Of course. Now.

I couldn't pay nearly your normal rate

but Raymond said he'd help.

Everything I know about you
convinces me you'll take it on.

- You want to engage me?
- Yes.

Would you like an adventure?

Possibly.

It's quite a challenge.

Very possibly.

I want you to find a body.

Hello. Lucy Eyelesbarrow.

I'm Emma Crackenthorpe.
What a smart car.

Thank you.

- Wow!
- Look at that car.

- Lovely, isn't it, boys?
- Boys?

- Don't touch.
- Come in.

We only occupy this wing now,
my father and myself.

Though, as I said,
there's family for Christmas.

Which is why I advertised.

That was my brother-in-law Bryan,
and the boy Alexander's his.

James is a school chum.

You have a sister. I envy you.

Just brothers, me.

Edie died, having Alexander.

I'm so sorry.

Would you wait here?
I'll see if my father's ready for you.

The gobstopper king.

Sorry.
David Quimper, Miss Eyelesbarrow.

Emma said you were starting.

Is someone ill?

Well, not more than usual.

I've given him the once-over, Luther -
Mr Crackenthorpe.

But I really came here to talk to Emma.

That's Luther's father.

Sir Marcus.
Crackenthorpe Confectionary.

Rotting the nation's teeth since 1881.

You surely had a Nougatine Twirly
in your time.

I don't think so.

Or a Choco-Melty Bar.

Oh, yes. Wasn't I sick?

Miss Eyelesbarrow.

Excuse me.

Thank you Dr Quimper.

Doctor

I'm delving for your name.

It has a definite
Anglo-Saxon something about it.

It's not in the Chronicles.

I wondered if I'd seen it in lvanhoe.

Isn't there an Aynseborrow, though,
in Hereward The Wake?

Perhaps you're thinking of that.
Hereward The Wake?

Charles Kingsley.

Yes, I know.

I'll dust off my copy and have a look.

Has Emma explained everything?

We two manage with a local girl
who comes in most weekdays,

so you won't quite be on your own.

She's twice a week now.

Why is that? Money again?

Never mind.

There's Alfred. I'll go down.

Alfred's my eldest son.

Sponging a buckshee Christmas again.

Who else will be here?

Just Bryan and the boys and Alfred.

It's a pity you won't get to meet Cedric.

He has to fly off again tomorrow.

He's the only free spirit among them.

He paints in Spain.

Well, lbiza.

If I were younger...

Oh, and Alfred's with Jacqueline, his girl.

Observe, if you will, Miss Eyelesbarrow,

the sheer tawdriness of Jacqueline Briggs.

- There's no-one with him.
- He must have ditched her.

Where's Jacqueline?

Miss Eyelesbarrow?

Dine with us tonight.

I'll be in the kitchen.Mr Crackenthorpe

For me?

- Just up here.
- Yes.

Just mind your head there.
Oh. See what I mean?

Oh, this is perfectly charming, Tom.
And so kind.

I just had a fancy for a change
from village life.

- In Brackhampton?
- There's a Roman wall, isn't there?

About three feet of it
behind the municipal swimming pool.

And an interesting church.

It's not that interesting.

There's a Norman window in the east wall,
I suppose.

I've got a guide book of St Matthews

if you really want to have a look at...

- Not to worry.
- Never mind.

There's my lift to work.

- We're quite busy, actually.
- Are you?

Will you be staying long?

I did wonder,
have you made plans for Christmas?

No.

Do you know, I'd be delighted

Miss Marple, absolutely delighted.

- Hello.
- Mr Eastley.

The boys want to know
if you make treacle sponge pudding.

You can tell them I'm famous for it.

Can I be useful?

I don't know. Can you?

Scrape the carrots.

What is wrong with Mr Crackenthorpe?

Well, grief mostly.

Despair, his eldest son, his wife.

His daughter.

Miss Crackenthorpe told me
about your wife. I'm sorry.

Sure.

What happened to...Edmund, was it?

U-boat in the Atlantic.
Just after Luther lost Agnes.

Ten years ago last week she died.

- Last week?
- December 4th.

Tuesday.

Yes.

We always gather to remember her.

- Why don't I take this to the trash?
- No, no. no.

Waste not, want not.

That's the one for Christmas dinner.

With prune and chestnut stuffing.

Now, that I am famous for.

Anglo-Saxon for,
"What an excellent dinner."More or less.

- Bryan did the sprouts.
- I bet he did.

What will we do for tart
without your precious Jacqueline?

Dad, please.
Don't embarrass Miss Eyelesbarrow.

Jackie and I...

I don't even know where she is
and I care even less.

- Happy?
- I haven't been happy for ten years.

- Change the record.
- I'll play it as often as I want.

Why couldn't we have had Cedric

after Edmund instead of you?

Even Harold would have been better
by a whisker.

What will happen to this place when I go?

- Don't be so morbid.
- Morbid?

With my space already booked out
there in that mausoleum?

Quite an exciting life you lead, Emma says.

It has its moments.

I doubt it compares with being a fighter pilot.

That seems a long way back.

I fly a desk now for an insurance outfit.

Dull isn't the word.

This must be a bit of a come-down for you.

It suits me very well.
I've an aunt in Brackhampton.

A sweet old thing.

I thought I'd see her occasionally, if I have time.

I'll fetch the apple tart.
Oh, and there's cheese.

And may I call my aunt?

Of course.

The family were here on the 4th.

The day of the m*rder

Where would someone with knowledge

of the estate conceal a body?

Where is Alfred's missing girlfriend
Jacqueline Briggs?

That's what you must concentrate on.

It's in the next chapter, Miss Hartnell,

but I won't spoil it for you

Wait until the end.
There's a very ingenious twist.

Bye-bye

Good night.

It's a shame it's so run-down.

I suppose with the w*r and sweets
still on ration

Crackenthorpe Confectionary
doesn't figure.

Old Marcus sold it off.

Luther inherited this,
but has to run it on the interest

from a trust fund he shares with us.

In my case, through Alexander.
It's pretty small change.

Poor Emma won't see

any of the fund when it pays out
on Luther's death.

- That's real bucks.
- How unfair.

She's a woman.

Luther's hands are tied
by his old man's crazy will.

They fell out. Family stuff.

Well, can't he sell?

No.

Rutherford Hall has to pass to Alfred.

Since Edmund died, he's the eldest son.

- What's that?
- The mausoleum.

The last resting place
of the Crackenthorpes.

Lucy! Lucy! Hide and seek, Lucy!

Lucy! Lucy! Hide and seek!

That's Miss Eyelesbarrow to you.

But she said we can call her Lucy.

Didn't you, Miss Eyelesbarrow?

I didn't say you could scream it.

Will you play with us? Please.

- Please.
- I'll do the sprouts.

- Hooray!
- Hooray!

Then bed.

- 100?
- Yes.

One, two, three,

four, five, six

There's no fish-and-chip shop
in St Mary Mead,

so I thought it'd be a nice treat.

You always were a bad fibber.

I looked in your larder. I'll shop.

What would I see from my train

where the railway curves
along an embankment?

A large estate and a house?

Rutherford Hall.

Now, that is interesting.

I heard a lecture at the history society.

Now the place is cut off
from Brackhampton,

but that was the railway.

In 1838

the company offered the family
£900 for a slice of land,

so the railway could keep going
in a straight line, supposedly.

The representative got a biff on the nose

and was sent packing.

So the track had to skirt the estate
at great cost.

That acreage these days
I hate to think what that's worth.

Do you know the family?

The Crackenthorpes? No.
The doctor's an acquaintance.

Nice chap. I think he's quite keen
on the daughter.

Are you up to something, Miss Marple?

Am I?

- Lucy! Lucy!
- Coming!

I hope you don't mind my asking,
Mr Crackenthorpe, but...

did you never think to join in
the family business?

I had a vision.

I saw my life unfolding before me,

drowning in a sea of sticky toffee

and pretending enthusiasm for a new line
in coconut fudge.

"No, thank you, Dad"

I told him. "I have a soul,
even if you don't"

He was a spiteful man,
cut me out of his will.

He made sure his wealth
skipped a generation.

But at least I stood up to him.

Was that before you were married?

Yes, but money didn't mean
anything to Agnes.

She was a wonderful mother.

I stood up to him
and she understood why.

I buried myself in my books

and got the sort of liberal education
he despised.

We were happy, believe it or not.

Mr Crackenthorpe.

She's gone.

I'll never see her again.

Jacqueline?

Yes.

May I sit down?

Tell me about her.

She wasn't what you'd call... beautiful.

But her eyes... One look, you know.

Putty in her hands.

Any man who ever met her.

What happened?

She wanted to finish it.

I begged her not to.

But she wouldn't listen.

I know I'm not a very good sort.
I do know that.

Look, it's never too late to face up
to something terrible.

I can't.

I think you know what happened to her,
don't you?

Tell me.

She's...

She's...

run off with Councillor bloody Marchant!

Wait. You mean...she's not dead?

Dead? No.

I just hope none of them press charges.

None of whom?

None of the fat

stupid, married pillars of Brackhampton society,

who looked into Jackie's eyes
in assorted hotel bedrooms

and turned to putty.

Just long enough for me to burst in

and play the wronged husband,

except she really fell for the last one.

Marchant.

That's dreadful.

Heartbreaking.

It was a bloody good little earner.

Oh, excuse me.

I could do with some coffee.

Black.

Make it yourself, Mr Crackenthorpe.

TO: JANE FROM: LOVE ELSPETH

Dear Elspeth.

WOMAN IN THE DARK

IN MEMORIAM EDMUND LOST AT SEA

EDITH EASTLEY
DEAR WIFE AND MOTHER AGED 20

IN FOND MEMORY OF
AGNES CRACKENTHORPE

IN MEMORY OF A DEAR HUSBAND
AND FATHER LUTHER CRACKENTHORPE

- Miss Eyelesbarrow?
- Yes

Detective lnspector Campbell,
Brackhampton ClD.

He's taken to his bed again.

It's you I'm worried about.

The police are getting Harold and Alice
to come. And Cedric.

He was supposed to be going back to Spain today,

but they've called the airport.

What was Miss Eyelesbarrow doing
in the mausoleum anyway?

You suffer from insomnia,

and went for a midnight walk,

then you looked in the mausoleum
to see what it was like.

- No.
- No?

That's what I told Miss Crackenthorpe, but...

I was looking for the body.

A friend of mine told me it was somewhere here.

Why would he or she think

there was a body at Rutherford Hall?

She. A friend of hers saw the woman
m*rder*d on a train.

I know it sounds improbable,
but my friend is never wrong.

Let me guess your friend's name.

Tom's father was

the best village constable St Mary Mead ever had.

Much missed.

I have a confession to make.

I did it.

I scrumped the apples
from the Price-Ridley's orchard.

I know. It's obvious.

But you learnt your lesson,
falling into the nettle patch.

The screams.

I had him down to his birthday suit

and smothered every little bit of him
in calamine lotion.

Now, we have our victim, but
we don't know who she is.

I wonder if these will help.

They're very commonplace.

If not to say common.

But thanks to Lucy,
we know she wasn't Jacqueline Briggs.

The family didn't recognise the photos
of the body

or so they say.

We're holding back
where she was m*rder*d for the moment.

I'll keep my ears open.

Miss Eyelesbarrow, you found the body
and I'm very grateful.

But I can't let you go back.
You could be in danger.

A victim without a m*rder*r is like...

I don't know what it's like.

I hate to leave a job half done.

And I promised to work at Rutherford Hall

so I can't let them down, can I?

Do hurry up, Harold.
And, you, be careful with that.

It's Dior.

It's a year's golf club membership

and some good cigars.

Lend a hand, will you?

What?

Put my jacket on a puddle
for her ladyship to walk over?

I've no wish to soil my shoes
on your jacket, Alfred.

How long will we have to stay, Inspector?

We're expected for a Christmas house party
in Suffolk.

Well, that would depend on

the progress of my investigation.

The sergeant will be showing you

some photographs later of the body

to see if any of you recognise the woman.

What does it say, Harold?

They think she died
on Tuesday of last week.

I don't see how they can tell.
Not from the look of her

is doesnt say when she was placed
in the mausoleum.

No idea who she is?

They're appealing for information.

- Cedric, you've arrived.
- You know me.

Can't resist a whodunnit.

Hello.

Haven't seen you before.

- Scrambled eggs?
- Rather.

I was about to board the plane
when I was taken aside.

Very dramatic.

They showed me
those terrible photographs.

Did you recognise her?

Sadly, yes.

She was an ex-lover who never got over me.

Pester, pester, pester.

So I done her in.

How very amusing.

I'm glad to see that you haven't lost
your sense of humour

Alice, my sweet.

I'll thank you
not to use that tone with my wife.

Don't be so pompous, Harold.

♪ Here we are again,as happy as can be

♪ All good friends and jolly good company

- Oh, there you are!
- Dad.

It's all terrible.
There's a flatfoot in the library.

Can you tell me where you were
between five and six o'clock

on Tuesday 4th December?

I was here

- How did you get here?
- I drove.

Arrived early afternoon.

But the place seemed deserted.

Had a drink or three.

And waited.

I drove up to take Emma to Brackhampton
Christmas shopping.

She never gets out of the house.

Boys were due on the Friday.

I knew I'd have my hands full then.

I can't remember which shops exactly.

Greenford's, I expect.

And Lyle and Swift.
Bryan was with me the whole time.

We didn't get back till gone six.

My father was in one of his moods.

He doesn't much like my going out
in the afternoons.

He shut himself in his room and
wouldn't speak to me.

Was Alfred around when you arrived?

Yes. Yes, he was.

I believe he'd been here for some time.

I picked Lady Alice up
from old friends of hers

and we came on here.

Alfred was drunk.

Ah, you're here at last.

How're the Hendersons?

At the time of the m*rder,
I was in my studio.

Touching up Two Senoritas And A Donkey.

Which is the title of a painting
that I have to finish

for the next exhibition in January.

I lost track of the time,
I missed the evening flight

and I didn't arrive until the next day.

If it is from her! How do we know?

- She didn't turn up anywhere, did she?
- Quite.

- Of course not. It's a put-up job.
- Is that Martine's letter?

They were just sitting chatting
having coffee

Rather a pleasant change.

I heard a huge row.

No idea what about.

There never has to be a reason.

Cats in a bag.

Cedric or Luther is lying
about the argument

the family were having.

However, Alfred's the only one
without a real alibi.

- Do you want me to watch him?
- I want you...

to be careful of him.

You've got some erm...

That's better.

You, too.

Yeah.

Use some gumption !

Ah, Miss Eyelesbarrow.

Your sister's digging out red ribbon
for the festive touch.

I've just been checking your references.

Have you?

Yes, I spoke to Lord Leasely and
Miss Van Moyson.

Everything seems to be in order.

Did you think I'd forged them?

I don't know what I thought, actually.

I saw you and the Inspector
emerging from coal house earlier

Oh, yes. He was asking me
some more questions.

Oh, no. You were far too furtive.

I must say, he's a man of taste.

Was he indulging it?

Lucy?

Everything OK?

Eastley.

Keep away from him. Please.

I can look after myself, Bryan.

You bring out my protective side, that's all.

Why is that?

Because you're special.

And beautiful.

Oh.

Well, that's something to think about,
isn't it?

Put it back.

David says we should tell the police.

You and your bloody doctor! No!

It would upset father too much.

Have the fox fur and the compact
yielded anything?

- What about the clothes?
- It's on the cheap side.

Nothing special.
There were a few items with Spanish labels.

- Spanish?
- And the compact is French.

I spoke to the manufacturer in Paris.

They don't export.

So she must have bought it in France.

Perhaps she was French.

Or Spanish.

Or travelled widely.

Come on, Stoddard-West.

Will there be another m*rder?

We'll listen for clues down by the lake.

Can't Bryan control those children?

It's giving me a headache.

Bad enough being cooped up
without having...

Leave them alone.

They're looking for clues.

That inspector said the dead woman
might not be British.

- Did he tell you that?
- No.

What, French?

He didn't say.

All I said was not British

but Emma immediately assumed French.

She looks scared.

Yes, Aunt.

Of course. But I am really rather busy.

Goodbye. Goodbye.

What were the victim's feet like?

Her feet?

- Why?
- It may be nothing.

But it could be something.

I'll let you see the postmortem report.

There's Quimper now.

I told you he always pops in
for a cup of tea after surgery.

David!

Join us.

Hello, Tom.

This is Miss Marple.

Jane Marple, Dr David Quimper.

- Nice to meet you, Miss Marple.
- Dr Quimper.

I'm an old friend from childhood days.

His, not mine, of course.

Are you visiting Brackhampton?

I'm staying at
the most charming guesthouse.

Seeing something of the town.
Catching up with Tom and his doings.

And my niece at Rutherford Hall.
I can see her too

- Your niece?
- Lucy Eyelesbarrow.

She found a body, you know.

I do Yes

How's the investigation?

It's nowhere until we've made an identification.
How's Emma?

Taking it in her stride, as usual.

And? You and her?

Pretend I'm not here.

But I do love the scent of romance
in the air.

You're in luck, then, Miss Marple.

Emma and I are engaged.

- I asked her the other day.
- Well done.

Unofficial.
We're not telling the family yet.

Mum's the word.

Have you known
the Crackenthorpes long?

I just started my practice down here.

I saw Emma's mother out of the world.

It's only love that matters.

Love, not money.

Agnes never lived to see Edmund's wife.

How tragic.

He brought her home just after she died.

She was so very beautiful - Martine.

And shortly afterwards, Edmund himself
was k*lled in the ocean.

- Martine?
- She was French.

- What happened to her?
- Doctor?

The family don't know.

Excuse me.

A rather demanding patient, I'm afraid.

Nice to meet you.

The family does know.

- Or at least one of them does.
- Well, why would he lie?

I think you should ask
Emma Crackenthorpe that.

If our body is Edmund's widow Martine,

why would anyone want to k*ll her?

Shall we fight over the last cream horn?

Was it David who told you I'd heard
from Martine?

No. In fact, he lied for you.

He said I should have shown it
to you all along.

How did you find out?

It was...my intuition.

It arrived out of the blue a fortnight ago.

After Edmund was k*lled,

Martine cut herself off from us,

until this.

She'd built a new life, she says.

But now she wants money to give her son

their son

some of life's advantages.

We had no idea there was a child.

No address.

She just announced she was coming here
to meet everyone.

I telephoned the others as soon as it came.

- She says she'll come on Tuesday.
- December 4th, yes.

The day you think
this woman was m*rder*d.

She has a son. The child is family.

If it is from her. How do we know?

- She didn't turn up anyway, did she?
- Quite.

Of course not. It's a put-up job.

We only met Martine once, ten years ago.

Those awful photos.

If by any chance it was her,
how could any of us tell?

My brothers didn't want a fuss.

They knew Martine was coming,
but she never arrived.

Not alive, at least, if it was her.

She wanted money.

The trust fund income
would be more miserable

if another share came out of it.

We'll clean the stove tomorrow.

- No, honestly...
- A bachelor kitchen only goes so far,

before it becomes quite unpleasant.

I remember
the Brownlows' eldest boy - Cecil.

Of course, he never married.
That's another matter.

You will one day.
Pity your wife, Tom Campbell.

One day, perhaps.

What?

The eldest son.
The real prize is Rutherford Hall.

That would be worth k*lling for.

If it was discovered that
Edmund had a son

it would go to him,

the eldest son of the eldest son.

He's an unpleasant specimen, Alfred.

It would certainly give him a strong motive,
if the body is Martine.

Mm, I suppose it would.

Such a pity I can't meet the family.

I've got the er...
the pathologist's report for you.

Lovely.

Oh, do you know...

I'll take it to bed with my cocoa.

Night-night.

Night-night.

Thank you.

Halfway through chapter one
and they were off.

You, too.

Yes.

- Good night.
- Good night, Lucy.

Harry, my sweet!

- Dad, we've found a clue!
- We have, Mr Eastley.

- What's this?
- Look, Dad.

It's receipt for dress or something
from Mrs M Crackenthorpe

Impossible.

Who's Mrs M Crackenthorpe?

- Where did you find this?
- Stuck in the holly bush.

Can I have a look, old boy?

The police should see this.

All right, skedaddle, boys. Find me
some more clues.

- You'll have to tell Dad now.
- I can't!

Let's get it out of the way before Christmas.

The way things are going,
we'll all still be here.

Em, if it was Martine then we're all
under suspicion.

Alfred has no alibi at all.

Harold has Alice
to swear black is white for him,

and I am lying through my teeth,
as you well know.

Then you're lying too, Em.

Bryan didn't take you shopping
on the day of the m*rder.

Bryan arrived by train.

I picked him up
from Brackhampton Station
just before 6 o'clock.

He asked me to.

And asked you to lie about it?

Oh, I should have telephoned first, I know.

Lucy says you're all so kind.

I did... I did promise her mother

I'd keep an eye on her.

Oh! is that a Gainsborough?

School of. Ghastly.

Biscuit tin stuff.

Who's that other G?

Gauguin.

Ah, now you're talking!

I'm afraid all his yellow
makes me rather bilious.

This is my brother Cedric.

- How do you do?
- How do you do?

Of course you and Gauguin
have something in common, don't you?

His talent flourished on an island.

Aunt Jane?

What do you do, Mr Crackenthorpe?

A bit of this, a bit of that.

Precious little of either most of the time.

My family had a Marple once.
Scullery maid.

Interestingly,
Lady Alice is from a very old family...

What does that mean?
We all come from old families.

And I know an Angus Marple.
Owns horses and a castle.

If you know someone who knows

someone who owns horses and a castle,
you're laughing.

My brother is.

Job for life with his father-in-law's
company.

Whatever it is you do there.

Harold has a responsible position.

Doesn't pay just quite enough, though,
does it, Harry?

You get your bread buttered

but it's spread damn thin.

°¢♪û·üÀ×µÂ!
Alfred!

Money can be such a thing, can't it?

Hello, Tom. Are you on duty?

Yes. Meeting someone. You?

Just delivered twins.
I've a very lovely job sometimes.

David...

what do you make
of Alfred Crackenthorpe?

he's a wreck

Why? Is he your suspect?

You know I can't answer that.

Emma says...

you asked them all their whereabouts
between five and six.

Well...I know where Alfred was.

I saw him in the King's Head.

He didn't tell me that.

He was with old Terry,
the bookie's runner.

He'd hardly tell policeman he was doing
some ill*gal betting

now, would he?

Thank you, David.

So nice to meet you.

I'm sorry my father wasn't up
to seeing you.

I quite understand.
Ooh, I met your Dr Quimper yesterday.

- What a charming man.
- My Dr Quimper?

Your family's.

Oh, yes.

Lucy, won't you introduce me
to your aunt?

We haven't time, Mr Eastley.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

- Has he upset you?
- No.

He's very handsome, isn't he?

In an American sort of way, I suppose.

He's certainly very forward.

- Thank you, Lucy.
- What did you find out?

- Enough for now.
- What next?

Elspeth described the woman
she saw strangled

with her hair scraped back under a band.

Bunions, according to the pathologist.

And soles like leather.

And her toenails were clipped short.

So where exactly are we off to?

Remember little Elsie Elliot,
from Church Lane,

who won a scholarship to ballet school?

She showed me her feet once.

Our victim had dancer's feet,

And it's Christmas, Tom.

You could stay for dinner.

I've got a patient to visit.

- Are you still here?
- I was just going.

- Not changing, Cedric?
- No.

Wish you could change, though.
Bet Harold does, too.

I've told Dad about Martine.

I don't think he'll be down.

I'm sorry. I thought it was best,

now that the police know.

Well...

good night, everyone.

Here, doc.

What do you charge for a consultation?

Whatever it is,

it's not enough.

Good evening, brood.

I wonder if another body will turn up.

- I hope not.
- I hope it won't be you. I like you.

- Thank you.
- Dad likes you, too.

I think what he needs is a...
a proper home life.

He needs looking after.

Smells good.

Sorry we won't be able to eat it.

We have to return James to his mother.

She's just got back from abroad
and seen the papers.

Understandably, she wants him home.

- Can't I stay? It's curry.
- No, you can't.

Keep James company

Get your coat.

Looks good, too.

Lucy.

It's the onions.

Just go.

THE INTERNATIONAL CHRISTMAS TOUR.
BALLET MARITSKI. NOW BOOKING.

Tres jolie.

Superbe.

And...

Oh, no, no, no, no!

No, no, no! This is The Nutcracker,

not The Carnival Of The Animals.

You look like an elephant!

Alors. Regardez.

This...parfait.

And then...

The arms like this. Lightness...
With lightness.

And leger.

You're a fairy made of sugar, Cherie,
not a dumpling.

Be quiet, or I'll crack your nuts.

- Encore.
- Madame.

Arrête.

Ah. Dix minutes.

When I um...

When I telephoned you,
Madame Joilet,

you said this dancer Anna Stravinska

left after the performance
on December 3rd

and you've never seen her since.

Correct. Our last night at Littlehampton.

A modest venue, but a standing ovation.

The next night we opened in Southsea,

but Anna never arrived.

To be frank, she was...getting on.

It's a short life as a dancer.

If she was a horse...

She would be...put out to grass?

No, no, Inspector.

I think you say the knacker's yard.

Do you have any idea
where Miss Stravinska might be now?

Girls disappear, especially on tour.

It's not uncommon.

Perhaps she got herself into trouble,
if you understand.

A doctor in the back street.

But no. Not with Anna.

That's not likely.

She's a very good Catholic.

I'm sorry, I can't help you.

Catholic? From Russia?

Russia?

Oh, her name. No, no, no, no.

It's a fashion with ballet dancers.
Anna is French.

- Do you know her real name?
- No.

She had an English husband,
she told me.

Had. Is he still alive?

All I know is she is no longer with him.

Where did they marry?

London, I believe.

And er...
did they have a son, madame?

Impossible!

One cannot have a child and dance.

- How was the curry?
- Excellent.

Thank you.

There's nothing like plain,
simple cooking, is there?

- I'll cancel the Savoy, then.
- Harold!

Stop bickering.

I thought the curry was delicious.

It was certainly hot, Miss Eyelesbarrow.

- After you with the water.
- May I have some, too?

I'll fetch some more.

- Dad, please don't be upset.
- Why not?

I just found out I've got a grandson
I've never seen

and his poor mother's body ends up
on my grounds.

Shouldn't I be upset?

I'm seriously thinking of joining her.

Perhaps grief would unite you. Not joy.

For God's sake, shut up!

You're so bloody boring, father.

- Sit down !
- Dad!

You're just as bad.

- I thought I could trust you.
- Of course you can.

Can I?
Who hid the letter from me, then?

Dad!

Miss Eyelesbarrow, the curry!

Phone...Dr...Quimper!

Dr Quimper. I've left the light on.

- You will close the door behind you?
- Yes.

- How are they?
- They're all sound asleep,

probably best for them.

I'll be in...first thing,

just to make sure.

- Good night.
- Yes. Good night, Miss Eyelesbarrow.

Help! Help me!

Dr Quimper!

Help! Help!

That was Alfred.

He's dead.

I think it was arsenic.

It's unpredictable, even in small doses.

His system was weak.

Alfred did drink more in a month

than most of us manage in six.

How sure are you?

Well, I kept some of the sample
for your lab boys.

They're the experts.

- I dropped it off at police station.
- Thank you, David.

You're next in line now...

till Harold gets it.

And then it'll be all mine.

Stay here.

What happened?

Alfred's dead.

Lucy, what's the matter?

- You're not serious?
- You're there when I was cooking.

You made sure Alexander went with you

when you took James back to his mother.

Why would I wanna k*ll Alfred, or anyone,
for that matter?

Why would you lie about where you were

the day Martine was m*rder*d?

You didn't drive here to go shopping.

You came by train.
You met Emma once the shops were shut.

- How do you know?
- I keep my ears open, Bryan.

Did you include spying on your resume

when you applied for this post?

In any case,
I couldn't have k*lled Martine.

- Why not?
- I can't say.

- It would mean breaking a confidence.
- How convenient.

You know what,
have it your own way, then.

What about the others?

Is any of them seriously ill?

They didn't need hospital.
Unpleasant, though.

Quimper thinks it was probably arsenic.

He took some of the curry to test.

Miss Marple, I have to get...

Why would the whole family be poisoned?

To k*ll off the weakest member -Alfred.

Quimper said he was a physical wreck.

One of the family was prepared
to poison himself

to get the hands on the inheritance

Or the m*rder*r meant to poison Luther

but k*lled Alfred instead.

Possibly.

Lucy's sure she never left the kitchen.

Only four people,
apart from Alexander, came in.

Mr Eastley was first.

Looks good, too.

Then Cedric appeared.

Shall I put some of this in?

Food colouring. A blue curry.

So avant-garde!

No!

She's not sure
how long Harold was there, but...

But it was long enough.

Any one of them
could have poisoned the food.

Even Alfred himself came in and
propositioned her.

Do you fancy
a smart weekend away sometime?

I'm getting my hands
on a nice little bit of cash soon.

No, thank you.

If you change your mind...

Watch your head, Mr Crackenthorpe.

Low-flying pigs.

Interesting.

Perhaps Alfred was the poisoner
but his plan backfired

Mr Eastley left before dinner

and wouldn't let Alexander stay behind.

Yes, but he wouldnt benifit
Alexander's inheritance

would be tied up until he came of age.

Harold's got most to gain.

There's the house

as well as his share of the family trust fund.

Harold must be
our main suspect now, Miss Marple.

- Tom.
- What?

Calamine lotion was a long time ago.
My name is Jane.

I'll try.

Sorry.

Are we sure
Anna Stravinska and Martine were...

one and the same person?

Anna was French.
She had an English husband.

She disappeared at the right time.

Then there's that receipt the boys found.

I think it quite possible

it was Anna Stravinska in the mausoleum.

But it's not the same as being certain, is it?

I can't stand it here any longer.

Don't leave me here, please.

Well, come, then.

I'm still not feeling well enough.

Don't make a drama out of it!

Dr Quimper says you're fine now.

That's what he said about Alfred, wasn't it?

Please, Harry.

- Yes, Mr Crackenthorpe?
- Call me Harry.

Are you a good comforter, Lucy?

My poor brother.

I have to get on

Yes, we all have to get on, don't we?

That's why I married Alice

but some things you just can't...

With one's wife, I mean.

Do you see?

You are so unspoiled, my dear.

So lovely.

Come on!

- Stop it!
- Leave her alone!

Get out!

There's something you need to know
about Harold.

When Edmund brought his new bride back...

Bonjour. Thank you very much.

Harold just couldn't help himself.

He was so jealous of his brother's happiness.

No.

- I know what French girls are like.
- No!

I wasn't sure at the time.

She told me when we met again
after Edmund's death.

I'm the only one who knows.

You still haven't told me why you lied.

Which train were you on?

Which train?

I don't know.

- Why can't you trust me?
- I want to.

Just try harder, then, can't you?

He didn't say
how long he kept in touch with Martine,

just that
he met her again after Edmund's death?

Thank you, Lucy.

Alexander's chum James -
what's his surname?

It's a cheat, really. Size of the glove.

Easier than cricket by a long chalk.

You might tell me what we're waiting for.

What have you found out?

Information
Mr Eastley should have volunteered

but didn't, for some reason.

Perhaps he lacks confidence
in Brackhampton CID.

Your chief suspect for m*rder
gets m*rder*d himself

under your nose, for a start.

Under your nose, to be accurate.

Don't start blaming me.

- Have you questioned Harold again?
- Why?

Isn't it obvious?

He k*lled Martine to stop her telling
the rest of the family

what he tried to do to her all those years ago.

Without Alfred, he inherits the Hall.

I'd keep a round-the-clock guard on Luther.

We don't quite
stretch to round-the-clock guards.

I'd feel safer.

Had that occurred to you?

You don't have to stay.

I'd have thought
you needed all the help you can get.

We may not be the FBI,
but we always get our man.

- That's the Mounties.
- Or our woman.

Not this one.

- I didn't mean that.
- I hope not.

Here they are.

This should make things a little clearer.

Jane, Maman est arrivee!

Martine! What are you doing here?

Bryan.

Good afternoon, Mr Eastley.

We weren't properly introduced, were we?

Lady Stoddard-West has

kindly agreed to clarify a few matters.

I never ever thought
I would set foot here again.

Let's go in, Martine.

Bryan and Edith were so kind to me
after I lost Edmund

I kept no contact with the rest of the family.

The memories were painful.

But they stayed in touch, and when Edith died,

we became even closer.

l moved far away
when I married my present husband,

Lord Stoddard-Wess

But my son James

stays often with Alexander for the holidays.

Why didn't you tell me this, Bryan?

I made him promise
not to tell anyone about me.

I swore I would never come here again.

- But when James told me...
- I was going to call you,

but then with the second m*rder...

Just then Miss Marple telephoned me.

I was

not sure, but erm...

when I heard James spoke impeccable French,

and you'd met Edmund's widow after his death...

Well...I was right.

Lady Stoddard-West is alive and well.

Luckily.

Alfred shut me in there once,
when I was six.

I still dream about it, actually.

A psychiatrist might say that made you
an unpleasant man

I beg your pardon?

but I'm a policeman.

- Martine was here.
- Martine?

Then the body wasn't her.

I know what you did to her.

It's pretty disgusting!

Your brother's wife

and him about to go off and die for his country.

Yes.

They were so happy,
so simply happy, like Mum and Dad.

I've...never been able to like women.

I may be disgusting, but I'm not a m*rder*r.

No.

Harold!

I want you !

- We're leaving.
- Does she know?

No.

Take this man home.

Inspector.

Well, the victim wasn't Martine,

so Harold's in the clear.

She must be Anna Stravinska.

But even if we know who she was

we don't know who she was, do we?

Sorry, do go on.

Has Mr Eastley explained to you
where he was on the 4th?

Or why he got Emma to cover up for him?

- Was he on the same train of the victim?
- Bryan couldn't k*ll.

Even w*r heroes have been known
to go off the rails.

What about Cedric?
Have you checked on his alibi?

Did he arrive back from lbiza
the day after the m*rder?

I was intending to check his passport stamps.

That's a very sound idea.

Thank you, Jane.

Though I always think
it best not to alert a suspect

until one has
the strongest basis for one's questions.

Hm. Me, too.



You could have come to me.

That's what Emma said.

I'd have understood.

Would you?

No.

But I'd try.

I have to now

Is that the overseas operator?

How exciting!

Yes, it's a number in Ceylon.

You don't think Uncle Alfred died

because I said
there's always another m*rder in books?

No, Alexander, I don't.

Well, I expect you two
have got heaps to discuss. Goodbye.

My subtle son.

He thinks you need a proper home life.

Look, um... The day of the m*rder.

Yes.

I was in London with the bank manager.

One hell of a mess with school fees

and pretty much everything as regards money.

I was going crazy about it all,
took my eye off the road,

shot a red light and crunched the car.

Not serious, but I had to get the train here.

Emma picked me up.
I didn't want Alexander getting wind of it

So...which train were you on?

What does your shrink say
about your train complex?

l don't recall.
I got into Brackhampton just before six.

I'll get you a train timetable for Christmas.
Giftwrapped.

- Bryan, I'm sorry...
- It's OK.

You're still special and beautiful.

Oh, and er...

I'm falling in love with you.

But that'll keep.

Yes, Miss Marple?

Some more information?

Yes, let me guess.

Timetables. Maps.

Parallel railway tracks.

Am I... No.

You... Don't come in.
You don't have to come in.

I hope you won't think this insensitive

but I've tickets
for Noel Coward's cabaret opening tonight.

There'll be a party.
It might take all our minds off things.

- How did you get them?
- I worked for Mr Coward briefly.

- I'm not sure.
- How many did you get?

Six. My aunt,
of course, and I asked your father.

But he suggested you invite
Dr Quimper instead.

Did he?

Well, I could see, I suppose.

I suppose I might as well confess.

Confess?

I didn't fly in the day after the m*rder.

It was the day before.

So you don't have an alibi?

Oh, I do.

I rather overegged my success as an artist.

I haven't sold anything for over two years.

And I'm not very good in the sun.

One can't be pale and interesting in Ibiza.

Especially if one's not interesting.

Oh, Cedric, dear!

At the same time
that woman was meeting her grisly end,

I was in London,

sitting the Civil Service entrance exam.

- Sadly, though...
- Don't say it.

You flunked that, too.

Oh, no. Much worse.

A passsed top

I'll be pushing a pen in Whitehall now,

instead of...

flourishing a brush in the Balearics.

Poor Dad's heartbroken.

Congratulations, Miss Crackenthorpe.

"Mum" was meant to be the word,
Miss Marple.

Oh, yes.

David and I are engaged.

Good for you.

Finally.

How refreshingly patient of you, Doctor.

People do rush into things so, don't they?

Did you make those sandwiches, Lucy?

Yes, fish paste.

I hope you went easy on the arsenic.

Oh, David.

Don't be so silly, everyone.

Scrumptious.

Miss Marple?

A fish bone.

Let me see.

Excuse me.

Whoops. Don't panic.
It's all right. Breathe normally.

Breathe normally.

Yes! Yes!

That's him. Yes!

That's the k*ller!

ALARM. PULL THE CHAIN PENALTY
FOR IMPROPER USE 25 POUNDS.

Come on, Doctor.

David Quimper,

I'm arresting you for the m*rder of
Alfred Crackenthorpe

and of Suzanne Belene,

also known as Anna Stravinska...

your wife.

David?

It's not true.

You were married in London on April 10th 1939,

at St Luke's Church, Marylebone.

She was trained as a dancer.
You had a practice in Camden Town.

You separated before moving to Brackhampton,

but she was a Catholic
and wouldn't agree to a divorce.

It wasn't patience that kept you

from asking Miss Crackenthorpe to marry you.

You had to choose between bigamy
and m*rder.

You silly old woman.

I'd like to seek
a second opinion on that, Doctor.

Oh, you brute!

Oh, yes. That is the man I saw

from the 4.50 from Paddington
on December 4th,

strangling a poor,
terrified woman to death!

No!

Come on, David.

I did it for us.

Budge up.

Elspeth McGillicuddy.

- How was your flight?
- Only for you, Jane.

Well, then?

- I am so very sorry.
- I have to know.

I imagine it was money she wanted
when she contacted him.

Her career was coming to an end,
after all.

Perhaps she hoped for a reconciliation.

Whatever the reason,he made his plans

and invited her down to talk things over.

Then he pushed her out.

Later, knowing the family were inside,

remembering Agnes,
he took the body to the mausoleum.

He knew it would be discovered
eventually,

which is why he sent that letter,
supposedly from Martine.

Suspicion would fall on the family, not him.

Why try to give Alfred an alibi,

saying he saw him at the King's Head

at the time of the m*rder?

He was really giving himself an alibi.

He knew Alfred would be dead
by the time Tom checked up.

You mean it was Alfred he meant to k*ll

when he poisoned us, not Dad?

Oh, yes.

He had the greatest respect for
both your parents.

He would have waited for you
however long your father lived.

Why k*ll Alfred?

I believe Alfred was blackmailing him.

He'd seen something
which only made sense later.

He'd seen him plant the receipt

he'd written with Martine's name on it

a clue for the boys to find,

now that the body had been discovered

earlier than he had anticipated.

- Where did you find this?
- Stuck in the holly bush.

He said he was expecting money
when he came into the...

I'm getting my hands on a nice little bit
of cash soon.

But Quimper was never in the kitchen.

How did he get the arsenic
into the curry?

- He didn't.
- The police laboratory tested it.

He added the arsenic
to the sample he took

before he gave it to the police.

I'm just going.

It was the c*ck he poisoned

With just enough to make everyone
unpleasantly ill,

so that he could administer
the lethal dose to Alfred.

He couldn't have. I was there.

I heard Alfred shouting for him.

You heard Alfred shouting at him.

Quimper.

Help me!

Doctor Quim...

..per!

Help me!

Doctor Quimper! Help!

That's Alfred.

It's of no comfort.

But it was a crime born of love.

It's only love that matters.

Have you booked your flight back?

I'll not bother. It's all a bit sticky.

- Oh. How was Roddy?
- Thriving.

I met his new lady friend.
She was a decent sort.

There's a girl who's spoilt for choice.

There's a girl who travels alone.

I'll take your bags.

No need. I can manage that, Mr Eastley.

Alexander said you needed looking after.

I guess I do.

Then I...

I hope you find someone, Bryan.

Truly.

But I'm not always right.

- Happy Christmas.
- Happy Christmas.

- Jane.
- Tom.