01x12 - The Mirror Cracked from Side to Side

[bunniefuu]

Where are they?!

Open this door,

in the name of the people!

Yes, sir.

What do you want
at this late hour?

Your son!

No!

Mama!

By order of the commune...

I take orders from no one.

Mama!

I am your queen,
Marie Antoinette.

We are to take Louis Charles...

Mama!

You will not lay
one finger on him!

For his own safety.

Mama, mama,
don't let them take me!

You can't take him.

You can't take him!

Not my boy!

No!

Leave me alone!

Have mercy.

Mama!

Let me go!
Please!

Let go of him or we'll k*ll
the lot of you!

Mama!

You can't do this,
please, no!

No, not my boy!

Take him away!

Not my baby!

Didn't she look lovely
on her way to the guillotine?

Oh yes, lovely.

Imagine going to
all that trouble

just to have your
head cut off.

Oh, isn't she gorgeous?

It's like a dream, Jane.

My new neighbor,
on the silver screen.

It's too thrilling.

It is exciting, isn't it?

Poor Arthur must be
spinning in his grave.

I couldn't be happier,
really, I couldn't.

Oh, Dolly.

Do you think
she'll pop round

for cups of sugar?

Hollywood has come
to the home counties.

Movie star Marina Gregg has
left the palm trees and glitter

of Los Angeles for the leafy
lanes and picturesque villages

of rural England.

Miss Gregg has taken up
residence

with her dashing young
English husband,

film director Jason Rudd,

at Gossington Hall,
St. Mary Mead,

and seems to be loving her
new role as lady of the manor.

But it's not all huntin',
fishin' and shootin'

for Miss Gregg.

She's hard at work
on a new film

after her successful comeback
as Marie Antoinette.

This time she's taking
on another queen:

the Egyptian beauty Nefertiti.

Yes, Marina Gregg is truly
queen of all she surveys.

She's in a very good
mood today.

She's been out riding
with her husband.

How lovely.

Yes.

She's quite taken
to country pursuits.

And what position
do you hold, Mr. Preston?

I'm Miss Gregg's exclusive
personal assistant.

Your guests, Marina.

Riding makes me feel so alive.

I know exactly what you mean.

Arthur, my late husband,

always got a little frisky
after a canter.

Do help yourselves.

Thank you, Miss Gregg.

I love your English tea.

Are you all right, Mrs. Bantry?

Yes, I'm fine, thank you.

Only you're looking at me

rather strangely.

Am I?

Oh, I'm so frightfully sorry.

It must be the shock of seeing
you with your head back on.

We had the very great
pleasure of seeing you

in Marie Antoinette
the other afternoon.

That's a very special
movie for us.

It's when we first met.

I hadn't acted for a while.

And I had the privilege
of directing her.

I tell you, ladies,
I was in awe.

My darling.

Such a gent!

And so young.

Gosh.

Have a scone, Mrs. Bantry.

Yes, please, help yourself.

Let them eat cake!

It must feel quite odd

being back in your old home,
Mrs. Bantry.

But it's all so different.

You must think we're
the most terrible intruders.

No, not at all.

I'm thrilled you bought it and
I adore living in the lodge.

Your coming here is one of
the most exciting things

that's ever happened,
isn't it, Jane?

Oh, yes, and we're all
so looking forward

to the garden party.

Since the sale
went through,

I've been traveling
all over the place,

seeing my children
and grandchildren.

You have children?

Yes.

I have two sons,
two daughters,

and nine grandchildren...

so far.

It's great fun
being a grandmother.

I wouldn't know.

All the fun

and none of the worry.

It's not too
chilly for you,

is it, Miss Marple?

No, Mr. Rudd, thank you.

It's-it's very pleasant.

I'm sure you'll be very
happy here, Miss Gregg.

Arthur and I had
such good times.

And we will too,
won't we, Jason?

Home at last.

What a wonderful
feeling.

How do you think she keeps
herself looking so young?

Maybe she eats
monkey glands.

Maybe it's that
cute young husband.

How many has
she had now?

This is number five.

It must be very tiring.

Oh, exhausting.

One was enough for me.

Dear old Gossington.

I shan't miss it,
you know.

You've made the right decision,
Dolly.

This is a lovely
little house--

perfectly placed
to keep an eye on things.

[loud car horn honking]
Yoo-hoo! Hi!

Ooh!

Oh!

Stupid...

Oh, dear.

Oh, that was a nasty spill.

That young man was
driving like a mad thing.

I hope you haven't
hurt yourself.

I went over on my ankle.

That wretched pothole.

I shall have another word
with Councilor Hubbard.

Oh, dear, let me help you.

I'll make you
a nice cup of tea.

I don't take sugar,
Miss Badcock.

Oh, you must
have sugar.

It's good for shock.

I was abroad with the
ambulances during the w*r

and sugar always
did the trick.

There now, you get that down,
you'll be right as rain.

I'm afraid I've put you
to a lot of trouble.

Oh, no, it's no trouble,
I can assure you.

What is the use if
you can't help each other?

That's what I say.

There.

Were you, um...

were you on your way anywhere
in particular, Miss Marple?

I was on my way home,
actually, from Gossington Hall.

Gossington Hall?

Yes.

You know Marina Gregg?

I just met her,
as a matter of fact.

Well, I never!

It's so exciting
that she's chosen

to come and live here,
isn't it?

I've always been
the most huge fan.

Look what I just bought.

I've been collecting
photographs,

magazine articles--

all sorts about her for years.

When I was a teenager,

I used to dream about her.

I'm so excited about
the garden party.

Excuse me, sir.

Vinnie, honey...

You're reading
your article again?

I just can't help
myself, pumpkin.

Oh, you're such
a clever boy.

Uh-uh.

Not the hair.

What say we take
a spin in the country

this weekend?

Oh, Vinnie, I'd adore it.

Isn't England fun?

It's just like being in one of
those old-fashioned comedies.

Let's hope Marina
gets the joke.

[both laugh]

How frightfully galling.

Dr. Haydock's insisted,

quite unnecessarily
in my opinion,

that I rest it for a day or two.

Oh, thank you, Cherry.

I was so looking forward to it.

To be honest, I rather envy you.

I can't stand village do's--

stale buns and warm lemonade
and tea.

No, I intend making a beeline
for the house

and having a jolly good snoop.

Hang on, who's this?

Tea, madam?

Marina!

Councilor...

and Mrs. Hubbard?

That's right.

I'm Ella Blunt,
Jason Rudd's assistant.

Would you care
to follow me?

Oh, yes, we'd love to.

Mrs. Bantry?
Oh, Mr. Preston!

Miss Gregg is greeting
a few special guests upstairs.

Yes, yes...

If you'd like to follow me.

Oh, how exciting!

Do take that.
Thank you.

Hold your stomach in.

[grunts]

Oh, roped off--
that's sensible, isn't it?

Yes, stop people
crashing in.

Excuse me?

Would you look this way?

Lovely.

Thank you.

Quite flashed into my eyes.

Councilor and Mrs. Hubbard.

How very nice
of you to come.

I do hope you enjoy
your afternoon.

Jason...

Let me get you a drink.

Mrs. Dolly Bantry.

Oh, Mrs. Bantry,

it is nice of you to come.

I wouldn't have missed it
for the world.

I'm so sorry to hear
about Miss Marple.

Oh, she'll be on her feet
in no time.

Jason, look who's here.

Ah, lovely to see you.

Oh, Mr. Rudd.

Can I get you a drink?

Primrose, why aren't
you in the studio?

Oh, Miss Blunt asked if I'd
help out here, Mr. Preston.

Did she now?

Doctor Gerard Haydock.

Just what the
doctor ordered.

So thoughtful of you
to invite me.

My pleasure, Doctor.

Tell me, what might
I have seen you in?

Doctor,

may I interest you in a drink?

I thought you'd never ask.

A scotch would go down a treat.

Primrose, those drinks
won't serve themselves.

Sorry, miss.

I've got the most
frightful thirst.

Aren't you
absolutely panting?

Miss Heather Badcock.

Oh, my God.

Very buzzy, eh, Mrs. B?

It's quite thrilling, Mrs. Hubbard.

Even my Leonard's in quite a tizzy.

It takes a lot to get
him excited, believe me.

Miss Badcock is

the indefatigable secretary
of the association.

Oh, Doctor!

I don't know what St. John
would do without her.

How wonderful.

Yes, she's always ready with
a smile and a helping hand.

Jason, I'm sure Miss Badcock
would like a drink.

You don't remember me, then?

Well, why should you?

It was years ago,
in Bermuda of all places.

I was there with
one of our units

and you came to open a show
in aid of St. John Ambulance.

Yes, of course.

I was just a girl
and absolutely thrilled.

Who'd be a film star,
eh, Mrs. B?

All that rubbish
you have to listen to.

The doctor said
I couldn't go.

What a pity.

It's wonderful
what they've done

to the old place,
don't you think?

You know, it's charming,
gorgeous.

He's forced a vodka on me.

I'm not sure I like it.

So I said to myself,
"I won't be beaten."

I got up, slapped
some makeup on...

Knock it back, Mrs. Hubbard.

It's what you do with vodka.

Oh!

Have you got pictures of Lola?

Lola! Mr. Hogg!

Miss Brewster?
Mr. Hogg?

Could you hold
there, please?

I've never forgotten how
wonderful you were that day.

It was a hundred
times worth it.

Darling?

Now what will you have to drink?

Jason--
c*ck.

Ooh, I don't know
whether I should.

Let your hair down,
Miss Badcock.

I suppose it is a special day.

That's the spirit!

Have a daiquiri,
Miss Badcock.

It's Marina's favorite.

Oh, thanks.

Darling?

I've had three already.

Lola Brewster

and Vincent Hogg.

I do not believe it!

Vincent!

And Lola!

My dear.

Well, aren't you
the dark horses.

This house--
it's so...

ancient.

And so fitting.

I always knew you'd
end up in an old pile.

Dear Vincent.

Such a riot.

Rudd.

Let's have a nose around.

Do you think we should?

This used to be a bathroom.

It still is.

Oh, I'm sorry!

Hay fever. Nightmare.

Please excuse me.

Two basins!

Look at this, my dear.

This used to be our bedroom.

Oh, I say!

Oh!

I can't imagine
your Arthur in here.

Oh, do look at this!

Oh!

Oh, Dolly.

And this through here,
this used to be Arthur's seat.

What was that?

Yes, what was it?

What on earth is going on?

Mr. Preston,
what's happening?

It's one of the ladies.

She's had a sort of seizure
or a fit or something.

It's probably the heat.

Yes, I'd better get
some smelling salts.

Oh, dear.

Ah, Mr. Rudd, how is she?

Mr. Preston's gone for
some smelling salts.

It's a bit late for that.

Oh, my goodness.

Heather Badcock?

Dead as a doornail.

Oh dear.

And at the garden party!

Dear me.

Yes. Full of beans one minute,
pegged out the next.

What did she die of?
No one knows.

She was fit as a
fiddle apparently.

Mind you, she always did have
that sort of ripe look,

like a piece of fruit
that's about to go off.

There's going to be an inquest
and a postmortem.

Well, of course,
under the circumstances.

Great heavens.
Heather Badcock.

You don't think it'd be suicide,
do you?

Oh, no, no, she wasn't the type.

No, you're right,
you're right.

And anyway, why go to a party
to k*ll yourself?

No, no, it's
obviously m*rder.

Oh, Jane, these are for you.

Oh, thank you.

Cherry?

Leave her.

She's sleeping.

There was a kind of
reception committee

at the top of the stairs
for selected guests

and Heather Badcock arrived
shortly after I did.

Miss Heather Badcock.

Dr. Haydock introduced her
to Marina Gregg.

Miss Badcock is the
indefatigable secretary of...

I don't know what St. John
would do without her.

How wonderful!

And Marina listened charmingly

while Heather went
on and on and on

about how she'd met Marina
years ago somewhere or other.

She wasn't very tactful,
I must say, because

she was emphasizing about
how long ago it was

and I don't think actresses
like to be reminded

of how old they are.

But Miss Gregg took it all
in good part?

Well, yes, but...

What?

Well...

when Miss Badcock was talking,
I got the impression

that Marina wasn't listening
after all.

She was staring over
Miss Badcock's shoulder,

and when Miss Badcock
had finished,

there was an odd silence.

She was staring at the wall
opposite,

staring with...

Oh, how can I explain it?

Do try, Dolly.

She had a sort of...

She had a sort of

frozen look, as if she'd seen...

No, let me put it like this.

Do you remember
The Lady of Shalott?

"Out flew the web
and floated wide,

"The mirror crack'd
from side to side,

'The doom has come upon me,'
cried the Lady of Shalott."

That's what she looked like.

She was staring at the wall,
you think?

Well, she seemed to be.

Was there anything
on the wall?

Oh, I don't know.

Pictures, I think.

I don't think pictures
would be the reason.

No, especially as she'd see them
every day.

Were people still coming up
the stairs?

You mean she might have been
looking at one of them?

Yes, it's possible.

Well, there was a bit
of a to-do

when Lola Brewster arrived
with Vincent Hogg.

And also there was a young woman
there taking photographs.

A photographer?

Yes, she took one of me.

And then Marina,
all of a sudden,

seemed to pull herself together.

I think... I think her husband
nudged her or something

and she was back to her old
charming self.

Now what would you like
to drink?

Jason-- c*ck.

Oh, I don't know
whether I should.

Let your hair down,
Miss Badcock.

I suppose it is a special day.

That's the spirit!

Have a daiquiri,
Miss Badcock.

It's Marina's favorite.

Oh, thanks.

He gave a glass
to the Badcock woman

and one to his wife.

Daiquiris, I think.

That's very interesting, Dolly.

Very interesting indeed.

But who on earth would want
to k*ll Heather Badcock?

Unless she knew something.

No.

If she'd known anything,

she'd never be able to keep it
to herself.

Perhaps she was blackmailing
someone.

Blackmail?

The thought wouldn't enter
her head.

No, I suppose
you're right.

It reeks of m*rder, though,
doesn't it?

The whole idea seems
so very unlikely.

Unless, of course,
it was the wrong m*rder.

An odd place to choose,
isn't it, sir?

What do you mean,
Tiddler?

Well, if I was going
to poison someone,

spike their drink like,

I wouldn't choose a do with
loads of people milling around.

I mean, someone's bound
to notice, aren't they?

That's what we're
going to find out.

So, what was it then?

Arsenic or cyanide or something?

According to the inquest
it was an overdose

of hyethyldexyl-
barboquindelorytate.

Right.

It's an antidepressant,
Tiddler,

commonly known as Calmo.

So are we actually
going to, like,

meet Marina Gregg then, sir?

Of course we are.

Damned fool question.

Are you a fan of hers, Tiddler?

I am...

sort of...

yes, sir.

A bit old for you, isn't she?

So, Inspector, our local m*rder

is considered worthy of the
attention of Scotland Yard?

Yes, Miss Marple.

The involvement
of a Hollywood star

raises its
profile somewhat.

Should I be honored that I am
your first port of call?

Commissioner Clithering
speaks very highly of you.

Ah, dear Sir Henry.

How is he enjoying
his retirement?

I suspect he's
a little restless.

[Marple laughs]

I can well
understand that-- yes.

How is the ankle?

Oh, better, thank you,
much better.

I must say, it is quite
a coincidence

that the woman who helped
you when you fell

should be m*rder*d
a few days later.

Yes, isn't it?

I don't suppose you had any
intuition of this, did you?

Oh, good heavens, no.

What an idea.

Although she did remind me
of someone I once knew.

Who was that?

Alison Wilde.

Very kind and full of life,

but only ever saw things
from her own perspective.

And what's Miss Wilde
doing now?

Oh, she's dead, Inspector.

Would you care
for a Garibaldi?

No, thank you.

Oh, so sorry.

It is a pity you weren't
at the garden party

yourself, Miss Marple.

Yes, isn't it?

But my friend
Dolly Bantry was.

It was Mrs. Bantry who sold
Gossington Hall

to Marina Gregg.

And did Mrs. Bantry
see anything?

Yes indeed, she did.

And what was that?

Are you familiar with
The Lady Of Shalott?

Never say Nefertiti.

Like a curse from
the mummy's tomb,

Marina Gregg seems dogged
by tragedy.

At a garden party for
the St. John Ambulance,

hosted by Miss Gregg
in her new country home

as a rather unconvincing
Lady Bountiful,

the secretary of
the local association,

a garrulous spinster by
the name of Heather Badcock,

suddenly dropped down dead.

The dreary proceedings,

at which Marina Gregg
greeted guests

with the hauteur
of a minor royal,

were ironically kick-started
into life

by what is now being
treated as m*rder.

That's the one.

She was sitting right there
and she just went.

One minute she was fine,
and the next...

I thought she'd had a seizure
or a fit or something.

What she did have was six
times the maximum dose

of a substance called Calmo.

Everybody takes Calmo.

I don't.

Oh, you should.

It is absolutely marvelous.

It bucks you up and
it soothes you down,

if you take my meaning.

Would there be supplies
of it in the house?

Yeah, place is lousy with it.

Bottles of it everywhere.

Where exactly did Miss Gregg
receive her guests?

Well, she was standing
right about here.

And, oh, yes,
there was

a very
persistent photographer

from London,
Margot something-or-other.

A chic beatniky type.

She was taking photographs.

And people were
coming up the stairs?

Mm-hmm.
Yes, in driblets.

I brought up the VIPs,
you might say,

and Ella Blunt
brought up the rest.

She's Mr. Rudd's secretary.

And you are Miss
Gregg's secretary?

Exclusive personal
assistant, Inspector.

And were you here the time
that Miss Badcock came up?

I'm ashamed to say, Inspector,
that I just cannot remember.

I have a feeling
that I must have gone

back downstairs to look after
Vincent Hogg and Lola Brewster.

Hi, Miss Brewster,
how are you?

Mr. Hogg, right this way.

We'll go on upstairs.

Vincent...?

Hogg, sir--
he's a journalist

who used to be married
to Miss Gregg.

Oh, a fan!

Well, we must have
a chat sometime.

This Vincent Hogg chappie...

Yes! We didn't even know
he was in the country.

So his turning up was
something of a surprise?

You bet.

A pleasant surprise,
would you say?

Oh, yes.

So Miss Gregg was happy
to see them?

She couldn't have been happier;
in fact, she was thrilled.

To see her ex-husband?
Yes.

With a redhead on his arm?

That's Hollywood.

Well, I should like to have a
word with Miss Gregg, if I may.

Oh, but you can't--
she's totally prostrated.

Nevertheless, I'd still
like to speak to her.

Well, I'm afraid that's out
of the question, Inspector.

You see, the doctor
came by this morning

and he gave her
a little sedation.

I must say it's a relief to be
with someone who's normal.

What do you mean,
Doctor?

I've been attending
to Miss Marina Gregg.

Oh, is she ill?

Her nerves are shot to pieces,

or so she kept telling me,

and would probably still be
telling me

had I not given her a sedative.

Such a shock, someone
suddenly dying like that

in the middle of your party.

If you ask me, her upset
has nothing to do

with Miss Badcock's death.
- Really?

I probably shouldn't
be saying this.

Oh, I assure you it
won't go any further.

So obsessed is she with herself,
she even said that,

"It was meant for me, Doctor."

The poisoned drink?

She actually
said that, did she?

Yes, she certainly did.

Why on earth
would she say that?

Quite preposterous to claim
this tragedy as her own

with poor Miss Badcock
barely cold in the ground.

Tell me, Doctor, can you
remember what happened

after Mr. Rudd served
Miss Badcock and Miss Gregg

their drinks?

Yes, there were still guests
coming up the stairs.

There was a couple, I recall...

Lola Brewster and
Vincent Hogg.

A suave-looking chap and a
rather flashy-looking redhead.

I do not believe it!

Miss Badcock and I were
shifted off a little.

And Miss Badcock drank
her daiquiri then?

No, because she wouldn't

stop talking about
Miss Marina Gregg.

Ooh... oop.

Excuse me.

Yes, of course.

When did she drink it?

Well, it would have been
a little while after.

It was getting a bit crowded
by then.

Someone knocked into her
and she spilt it.

She spilt it?

Yes.

It went down her dress and
Miss Gregg's dress, I believe.

Oh, sorry!

Don't worry,
it's only a Chanel.

I'm so sorry, Miss Gregg.

Here, wipe yourself.

I'm sorry.

Have this, why don't you?

I haven't touched it yet.

She handed over her own drink?

Yes.

Are you quite sure
of that, Doctor?

Yes. Yes, I am.

And Miss Badcock took it?

No, she didn't want to at first,

but, yes, she took it.

And did what?

I've had far
too much already.

Drank it.

Rather quickly,
if memory serves.

Then I got chatting

to Councilor Hubbard,
and the next thing I knew...

Miss Badcock?

Preston!

Can I get her anything?

Get some smelling salts.

She was dead.

Mmm.

Well, Miss Marple,

I'm delighted to tell you that
you are now off the sick list.

But here's something
for the pain.

But what if Miss Gregg
is right,

that the poisoned drink
was meant for her?

She might still be in danger.

Yes, but, well, you know
what actresses are like.

Tell me, Doctor,

do you know if she's told
her husband any of this?

No, she didn't.

I am quite sure of that.

In fact I even suggested that
perhaps she should.

It is extraordinary.

What is?

A good dose of sleuthing always
brings the color to your cheeks.

Inspector Hewitt.

Inspector?
Ah, Miss Marple.

I've just seen Dr. Haydock.

Nothing serious I hope.

No, on the contrary,
I'm perfectly well, thank you.

He mentioned something that
I think you ought to know.

This business has made us
all a bit edgy.

Especially your wife,
I understand.

She's sensitive at
the best of times.

This hasn't exactly helped.

Excuse me, Mr. Rudd.

We were wondering if Miss Gregg
might be available

for a costume fitting
tomorrow morning?

How the hell should I know?

I've been told your wife
was rather distracted

while Heather Badcock
was speaking to her.

Cut it.

It's perfectly possible.

All this handshaking does
get a little tedious.

But you didn't notice
anything yourself?

Well, I think I did give
her a nudge at one point

to wake her up, but she
was fine after that.

I'm sorry to interrupt...

Twenty minutes, John!

Mr. Rudd...

I've got two dozen
journalists on the phone,

Jason, wanting to know
when they can speak

to either you or Marina.

I'll get back to you.
They're very persistent.

Ten minutes, Ella, okay?
Okay.

As you can see, things are pretty
hectic, so if you wouldn't mind...

Mr. Rudd, has it occurred
to you that the poisoning

of Heather Badcock may have
been entirely accidental?

And that the real intended
victim was your wife?

Very astute, Inspector.

That's what I've thought
all along.

Then why haven't
you said anything?

Because I don't want her
to suspect for one moment

that someone's out to k*ll her.

Hogg.

Hello?

I saw you do it.

What?

Honey, who is it?

I saw you put the tablets
in the glass.

You're husband number...?

Five.

Almost a cliché, isn't it?

She's got it into her head that
she's cursed with bad luck.

Well, I have every intention
of proving her wrong.

Good for you.

You see, Inspector,
she expects too much.

She really believes
you can be happy ever after.

Well, life's not like that, is it?

And what about children?

That's one of the reasons she
considers herself unlucky.

She finally resorted to adoption
and then of course got pregnant.

She was over the moon,
but the result was catastrophic.

She gave birth to a boy
who was severely Ret*rded

and had a complete breakdown.

I met her on her comeback movie,
Marie Antoinette,

shortly after
she'd recovered.

And the son?

He had to be put into a home.

In America?

Yes, but he was recently moved
into a home over here.

Does she see him?

Too much contact would drive her
over the edge

and we can't risk that.

But life goes on.

Not for Miss Badcock.

It was you, wasn't it,
Mr. Rudd,

who gave her her drink?

Yes-- a daiquiri.

I gave one to Miss Badcock,
then one to Marina.

It's Marina's favorite.

Oh, thanks.

And this was about the time

that Vincent Hogg and
Lola Brewster appeared?

Yes.

I do not

believe it!

Vincent!

And Lola!

Marina put her drink
down on the table.

She hadn't touched it,
and greeted them.

And that's where
her drink remained.

And it was only then that it
could have been tampered with.

Don't ask me how it was done
and as for who did it,

well, you have about 20 possible
culprits to choose from.

Not now.

What then?

My wife finally managed
to retrieve her drink

when that woman must have
spilt hers.

It's all right, really.

I'm sorry!

And Marina offered her drink
to Miss Badcock

and that was that.

But I can assure you,
the fatal dose

couldn't have been added
after then

because Miss Badcock drank it
immediately.

And five minutes later
she was dead.

Can you think of anyone who
would wish to harm your wife,

Mr. Rudd?

I think it's fair to say
that in our business

we derive a certain pleasure

from seeing colleagues
fall flat on their faces.

But as for wishing them dead,
not as a rule.

I didn't know you were
a film mag fan, Miss.

I'm not.

Just curious, that's all.

They belong to poor
Miss Badcock.

Inspector Hewitt kindly
procured them for me.

How long have you been
Mr. Rudd's secretary?

Five years.

You knew him before
he met Marina?

Oh, yes.

I suppose as Brits
we had a natural affinity.

He's a sort of genius, you know,
and still so young.

You like the job?

It suits my purpose, although
I hadn't bargained on m*rder.

Six times the recommended dose
could hardly be anything else.

An accident?

And how would that happen?

These theatrical types,

they have the most curious
lapses in intelligence.

I mean, sometimes I think
the more artistic they are,

the less common sense
they have.

I still don't see how such
an accident could happen.

One of the guests might have
wanted an upper or a downer,

having forgotten what
they had earlier,

put too much in a glass,

and then put it down,
got distracted and went off.

Along comes
Miss What's-Her-Name,

thinks it's her glass,
picks it up and drinks it.

People are very stupid,
you know.

Sorry, sir.

Tell me, Miss Blunt, does
Marina Gregg take Calmo?

Oh yes, we all do.

Have you any idea when I might
be able to talk to her?

She's always throwing
temperaments

and this has given her
the perfect opportunity

to throw a really big one.

Would you say she is difficult
to work for?

Difficult?

She's an absolute monster.

The woman has no moderation.

She's either jumping for joy
or in the depths of despair,

and there are certain
topics one simply

can't mention.
- Such as?

Mental breakdowns,
psychiatric hospitals,

anything to do
with children.

She can't have any more,

and the one she did have
is completely bonkers.

But it's not Mr. Rudd's
child, is it?

No!

The husband before last.

And where is he now?

Florida.

Miss Blunt,

do you know if Marina Gregg
is afraid of anyone?

Marina?

Afraid?

Hay fever.
Complete nightmare.

A day out in London?

What a lovely idea.

I've been behaving
disgracefully, gentlemen.

Will you ever forgive me?

I just let myself go to pieces
after this awful thing.

Do take a seat, Inspector.

Thank you, Miss Gregg.

This is Sergeant Tiddler.

Pull up a chair,
Sergeant Tiddler.

Make yourself at home.

Tiddler? Chair.

Yes, sir.

I'm so ashamed of myself.

It's only natural that
you should have felt upset.

I'd no business making out
it was worse for me

than anyone else.

Hadn't you, Miss Gregg?

Well, hadn't you?

You're a very perceptive
inspector, aren't you?

Why do you think someone
wanted to k*ll you?

It was my glass, my drink
that had been tampered with.

It was just a mistake that
that woman got it.

I wouldn't have said anything,
but Jason insisted.

You've confided in him, then?

Dr. Haydock suggested I should.

Jason thought the same as me,
he thought it all along.

I hope you're getting
this, Sergeant.

I am, ma'am.

Have you any idea,

Miss Gregg, who might
have tampered

with your drink?

It could have been anyone.

Jason, darling,

Inspector Hewitt thinks
I know who spiked my drink

and I keep telling him I don't.

But I can't help thinking

that perhaps you know a little
more than you're telling me.

God, I'm exhausted.

Just one more thing.

Can't this wait, Inspector?

While Miss Badcock was
speaking to you,

you looked over her shoulder
and saw something

that seemed to alarm you.

Now, is this true, Miss Gregg?

Of course it isn't.

What could possibly
have alarmed me?

It seems you might have been
looking at the staircase,

and at about that time
Vincent Hogg arrived

with Lola Brewster.

Was it this that upset you?

I wasn't upset.
Who said I was?

Inspector, I think it's time to go.

You didn't even know
they were coming, did you?

I'd no idea they were
even in England.

So it was a surprise?

Yes, it was.
A delightful surprise.

Delightful to see
your ex-husband?

Inspector...

With your current husband's
ex-lover on his arm?

Yesterday's papers, Inspector!

So you knew about
the affair, did you?

You're very persistent,
aren't you?

Did Lola Brewster ever
make any threats

towards you, Miss Gregg?
She wouldn't dare.

I'd heard that she
pulled a g*n on you

at a party after Mr. Rudd

dumped her.

Let's cut to
the chase, shall we?

Lola Brewster had no opportunity
of poisoning that drink

because I was close beside
her most of the time.

Were you?

The idea that she'd
come to England

and poison Marina...

Close beside her?
What were you up to?

I wasn't up to anything!

And what about Vincent Hogg?

The idea that that
poisonous old snake

could in any way alarm me...

But there was something,
wasn't there, Miss Gregg?

Something that distracted you?

Okay, Inspector...

Let me put it like this.

I've had quite
a tough time recently,

but have gradually
been getting back on track

and am working my butt off,

but I still find time
to open my house

to raise money for charity,

and to be nice and pleasant
to everyone.

And they all say
the same thing to you,

and you say the same thing back,
over and over and over again.

Have you any idea
how boring that can be?

Darling...

But you do it
'cause it's your job,

and if at some point you
glaze over, then so be it.

I haven't the faintest idea
what Miss What's-Her-Face

was going on about,
and I tell you,

it couldn't have been
that riveting

because I did blank out--
for a second, two seconds--

who cares?

I'm human, so sue me!

My only concern, Miss Gregg,
is for your safety.

An attempt was made on your life

by someone on the day
of the party--

someone who is quite
possibly still here

and who, in the scheme of
things, is bound to try again.

If you have even the vaguest
notion who that person might be,

I beg you to share it.

Perhaps you might know
something that I don't,

and if you do, you really
should tell us,

for your sake.

But I don't!

How many more times
do I have to say it?!

I didn't see anything!

I didn't hear anything!

And you're all driving
me insane!

Now get out of here,
the lot of you!

I want to be left in peace!

I think you'd better...

Yes. Thank you, Miss Gregg.

Mr. Rudd.

Any chance of an autograph,
Miss Gregg?

Get out!

She's a cr*cker!

And as we've known each
other for centuries,

we thought it would be jolly
nice to have a portrait taken

as a sort of memento.

Friendship is so important,

don't you think, Miss Bence?

And having seen you
at the party,

I thought... the very person.

I expect you've taken
lots of famous people,

haven't you, Miss Bence?

I'll sh**t anyone
if they've got the money.

Hold it.

I gather from the press

that this woman was
poisoned by mistake,

that it was in fact
intended for Marina.

That's right, sir.

The overdose was in
Miss Gregg's c*ck.

Miss Badcock spilt her drink
and Miss Gregg gave her hers.

Pretty conclusive, I'd say.

You hadn't seen her
for a while?

Not since our divorce,
oh happy day!

So you didn't mind being
ditched for a younger man?

To describe our marriage
as a hellish nightmare

would scarcely do it justice.

Why are you over here,
Mr. Hogg?

For my column, of course.

Marina's new film, Nefertiti,
God help us,

is creating quite a buzz.

I would be negligent
to ignore it.

Now, Lola Brewster...

Ah, yes, we sort of
gravitated to each other

as injured parties.

She's a sweet girl,
soothingly stupid.

Would it have been a shock for
Miss Gregg to see you together?

Oh, yes, most definitely.

I believe she's told
certain friends

she's afraid of you, Mr. Hogg.

I wasn't aware
she had any friends.

Answer my question, please.

Marina's an actress.

What do you expect?

She plays up.

Why let something go

when you can make
a five-act drama out of it?

So she had nothing
to be afraid of?

Certainly not me, Inspector.

I'm a pussycat.

Of course, we're such
big fans of Marina Gregg,

aren't we, Jane?

Are you a fan, Miss Bence?

She can certainly act up
a storm.

[clears her throat]

Oh!

Oh...

Take this.

Mmm.

Perfect couple.

I thought she was so kind
to open her home for the party

and it all went
frightfully well,

except, of course,
for poor Miss Badcock.

I'd very much
like to see

your photographs,
Miss Bence.

I expect you took several
of Lola Brewster.

Of course,
it was just about then

that Marina Gregg
had that funny turn.

Did you notice that,
Miss Bence?

You were probably
imagining it, Dolly.

Well, I'm probably putting it
too strongly,

but it did seem for a moment
that she looked a little q*eer.

Mind you, I had just
knocked back

a ferocious martini, so I was
probably a bit squiffy.

Oh, well, you got
quite lyrical about it.

That's not like me
to be lyrical.

You quoted Tennyson,
I seem to remember.

Oh, did I?

"'The doom has come upon me,'
cried the Lady of Shalott."

Oh yes, you're right.

I do love that poem,
don't you, Miss Bence?

Hmm...

Actually, it's, um...
it's "curse," not "doom."

But I know what you mean.

So you saw it too,
did you?

It's most extraordinary.

She's expressing nothing
whatever-- no fear, no pain.

Do you know,
you're absolutely right.

But there's something,
isn't there?

Something she's seen
or thought.

You capture her very well,

Miss Bence.

Had you met before?

Why do you ask?

Because you've worked
in America, perhaps.

How do you know that?

I've seen your name
in magazines.

I thought you may have
encountered her

in a professional capacity.

I couldn't keep this, could I,
for my collection?

Be my guest.

Oh, thank you.

Thank you so much.

Of course, one can
never be sure

how reliable
these magazines are.

I've read, for example, that
she has any number of children

and then that she has
no children at all.

It's all most confusing,
isn't it, Dolly?

Utterly.

How many children does
she have, Miss Bence?

I haven't a clue.

Haven't you?

Haven't you really?

What are you doing here?

Has someone sent you?

No, no, we're just here
to have our photograph taken,

aren't we, Jane?

Are you, Miss Marple?

What other possible reason
could there be?

What the hell.

It's hardly a secret.

What isn't, Miss Bence?

That I'm one of the children
Marina adopted.

Now remember you're
on duty, Tiddler.

Yes, sir.

So for God's sake
don't sit there

with your mouth open
like a beached cod.

Are you going to ask me

lots of horrible questions,
Officer?

It's Inspector, actually,

and I hope they won't
be too horrible.

I'm sure they will be, even
though you have the kindest eyes

and the cutest smile.

You know, gentlemen,

I'm sure this whole thing must
have been a terrible mistake.

You think so, Miss Brewster?

Oh, yes.

It's all such nonsense.

As if anyone would want
to poison Marina!

She's an absolute sweetie.

Everybody loves her.

Including you?

I've always looked up to her.

She's such a brilliant actress.

You know, it's a scandal
she's never won an Oscar.

Still, she has a year
or two left.

Wasn't there a little trouble
between the two of you?

Oh, that!

It was nothing.

She stole my lover, that's all.

Jason Rudd.

Isn't that hilarious?

She's old enough to be
his mother.

You can't have been too pleased.

Well, I wasn't, but now
I see it was the best thing

that could have happened.

I wouldn't have hooked up
with Vinnie otherwise.

People say you were
pretty furious.

People say all sorts.

Didn't you threaten
to sh**t her?

Oh... sure,

but I didn't really mean it.

Miss Brewster, I have it
on very good authority

that you said,

"That b*tch needn't think
she'll get away with it.

I'll get even
with her in the end."

Did I really say that?

I believe you did.

Well, I guess
I was a little mad.

We all get a little ruffled
sometimes, don't we, Inspector?

But do you really think I would
poison her c*ck

within three minutes
of seeing her again?

Really, Inspector, I do think
you're being a very silly boy.

She adopted

some children once,
didn't she?

Yes, but I don't think
it worked out so well.

I guess it was kind
of impulsive--

you know, like shopping.

You get it home,

then you think, oh, boring!

Well, we lived
in the East End of London,

my mother and eight of us kids,
and she simply couldn't cope.

So she did what a lot of women
did in her position

and she wrote to the rich and
famous, begged them to adopt,

and one day she got lucky.

Didn't Miss Gregg
also adopt a boy?

Yes, and for a time we lived
the most wonderful life.

Marina played her part
to the hilt.

But she did want children,
didn't she?

Mmm, oh, yes.

She just didn't want us.

As soon as she discovered she
was pregnant, that was it.

All she wanted was
a child of her own.

Well, you can't blame her
for that.

No, but I can blame her
for taking me

and my mother for letting her.

And your adopted brother,
what's happened to him?

We drifted apart.

He was more resentful.

Always said that when he grew
up, he would k*ll her baby,

and then, of course,
she gave birth

to that wretched
little creature.

Perhaps there's justice
after all.

You hate her that much?

Why shouldn't I?

Tell me, Miss Bence,

was it Marina Gregg
who arranged

for you to take photographs
that day?

She knew nothing about it.

I was curious to see
her again, and...

Do you know what?

She didn't even recognize me.

I'm going down
to Hellingworth studios

to take some production shots.

I wonder if she'll
recognize me then.

Hailey Preston here.

Can I help you?

I saw you do it.

Excuse me?

I saw you put
the tablets in the glass.

Yes?

They're ready for you, Marina.

Oh, Miss Gregg...
Not now.

The usual suspects.

What the hell
are you doing here?

I'm very well,
thank you, Marina,

and I must say you look
every inch the queen.

So do you.

Why are you here?

We're doing
the biggest spread.

Aren't you thrilled?

Vincent, you old dog!

Good heavens.
Casey!

So they still haven't
found you out?

And Miss Brewster,
as lovely as ever.

Hi.

Marina.

Does he play your husband?

Yes.

Oh...

So Nefertiti also went
for men half her age?

Isn't that the cutest
coincidence?

And did you know
she was regarded

as a fertility goddess?

Quite a stretch for you,
my dear.

You b*stard!

They're waiting for you.

Miss Gregg.

Thank you.

Thank you very much.

Perfect.

Wonderful.

We really must go.

Oh, I say!

What are you doing here?

Oh, good morning, Mr. Preston.

Well, what are you doing here?

Miss Gregg invited us.

That's not like her.

We're so excited, aren't we, Jane?

Oh, yes.

Why didn't she tell me?

Scene 48, take 19.

Quiet, please!

Why didn't you tell me this?

I'm really sorry I didn't
tell you before.

I don't understand
why you didn't.

I didn't think
it was important.

Primrose, it is
not your job to...

Quiet!

And...

Action!

My sweet lord, I am not
worthy of this honor.

Is he ever going to say
anything?

It's your line, Marina.

"Wife is honor enough."

I know what it is,
thank you very much!

I wouldn't hold your
breath for a sequel.

Keep on rolling.

Get that out of here!

And... action!

My sweet lord, I am
not worthy of this honor.

Wife is honor enough.

Not worthy?

You are a thousand
times worthy.

Our people await, my queen.

As equals we shall
appear before them.

Oh, my love.

Is he going to
do it like that?

Okay. Hold it.
Cut there.

Do it like what?

His hand slipped
below my waistline.

No, it didn't.

Tell him, Jason.

Casey, could you make sure your
hand stays above the waistline?

I wouldn't dream of letting
it go anywhere else.

Let me know
when you've finished.

Marina...
Coffee!

She's quite a handful,

isn't she?

Miss Gregg?

Jason!

Jason!

Jason!

Miss Bence,
what's happening?

Marina thinks her coffee's
been poisoned.

Good gracious!

Good morning!

Good morning.

Beautiful weather.

Yes, isn't it?

Why on earth use
the public call box?

Rather odd, I thought,
so I telephoned the hall

and wondered if the line
was down, and it wasn't.

What do you think of that?

Clearly Miss Blunt did
not want to be overheard.

Exactly!

And one has
to ask oneself why.

She must have seen something
at the party.

I'd agree that someone
must have seen something.

The question is, why hasn't
that person come forward?

Are you suggesting blackmail,
Miss Marple?

Well, I wouldn't go
so far as that--

unless, of course,
someone else gets k*lled.

How was it, then?

Oh, it was the first day
back on set

and she played up
something rotten.
Did she?

You've no idea, Cherry.

She's a right madam.

She thought her coffee
was poisoned at one point

and blamed me,
if you please.

No!

She did.

If it weren't for Mr. Rudd
calming things down,

I dread to think
what might have happened.

What did he do?

He poured it away.

Well, that's a bit
silly, isn't it?

How do you mean?

'Cause if it was poisoned,

there'll be no way
of knowing.

Do you think
it might have been?

Well, if they can poison
her c*ck...

You know, I've been
thinking about that.

When I was helping out
the day of the party,

I was quite close to her.

Heather Badcock, you mean?

Yes.

When she got the c*ck
all down her dress,

there was something
funny about it.

What?

Well, I didn't think
anything of it at the time,

but mulling it over

when I popped into Gossington
Hall the other day,

I'm almost sure she did it
on purpose.

Spilt the c*ck
on purpose?

Yes.

It's all right, really.

Oh, sorry.

Don't worry,
it's only a Chanel.

That is a bit funny, isn't it?

Yes, it is.

I've told Ella Blunt about it.

What for?

'Cause she's been
going on and on at me

about if I'd seen anything,

and then I thought,
well, yes, I had.

Here you are.

What is it?

The analysis of the coffee
Marina complained about.

But you poured it away.

I saw you.

Most of it.

I'm pretty adept at
sleight of hand, you know.

Arsenic.

So she was right
about it tasting bitter.

No.

Arsenic has no taste.

But her instinct was right.

And we thought she was
just being hysterical.

Oh, don't worry.

It'll all work out.

She was so happy here.

These things happen.

That's the way life is.

Some of us can take it,
and some of us can't.

Arsenic, though.

That's serious.

Jason, no one is going
to poison her here.

They've tried once,
for God's sake!

Bloody Marina!

Stupid bloody cow!

Oh... Jason.

Oh, my God!

Oh, God!

Yes?

Jane? Dolly.

The Blunt woman...

Dead!

I'm afraid I have some
rather bad news, sir.

Ella Blunt died this morning.

Oh, dear.

Cyanide poisoning.

How very unpleasant!

Why are you telling me this?

Didn't you know her?

Our paths have crossed
once or twice.

Wouldn't Jason Rudd
be the man to ask?

I thought you might know
something he doesn't.

Then I have to disappoint you,
Inspector.

So there's nothing
you could say

that would be of assistance?

Mr. Hogg?

There is something.

Yes?

A couple of days ago
I got a call.

I saw you do it.

What?

Honey, who is it?

I saw you put the tablets
in the glass.

Did you recognize the voice?

No, but I know for a fact
it was Ella Blunt.

How?

Why do you think she called you?

I haven't the faintest idea.

"Marina's m*rder Mayhem."

"To have one m*rder
under one's roof

"may be regarded
as a misfortune;

"to have two looks like
carelessness.

"Marina Gregg's rural idyll has
been blighted yet again

"by dastardly deeds,

"this time in the shape
of a poisoned atomizer

"inserted into the nostrils
of Miss Ella Blunt.

"Miss Blunt,
the devoted secretary

to Marina Gregg's boyish
husband Jason Rudd..."

Dropping like flies,
aren't they, Miss Marple?

I wouldn't quite say that.

Primrose had
a bit of a chinwag

with Miss Blunt
the other day.

Primrose?

Primrose Dixon-- she works
at the studios.

She said she had something
to tell her.

What did she have
to tell her?

Well, Primrose helped out
on the day of the party, see,

serving drinks and that,
and ever since,

that Miss Blunt has been
going on and on

asking her if she saw anything

and if she did,
it was her duty to tell her.

And did she see anything?

Well, when she thought about it,

yes, something did strike her
as a bit funny,

so she thought she'd better
tell her.

And what was it, Cherry?

It was to do
with Heather Badcock

and the c*ck.

Oh, yes?

She said she did it herself.

Did what herself?

Spilt the c*ck
all down her new dress.

You mean accidentally?

No. Primrose said
she did it on purpose.

Spilt the c*ck
on purpose?

Yes.

That is a bit funny, isn't it?

Yes-- yes, it is.

It don't make much sense
whichever way you look at it.

No.

No, it doesn't.

You get on quite well
with, uh...

with Primrose, do you, Cherry?

Oh yes, miss.

We've known each other
since we were toddlers.

Good, because I have
a suggestion

I think you might
quite like.

♪ ♪

So Ella Blunt had it in mind

to blackmail Vincent Hogg.

But she got
the wrong person.

It seems she got
the right one in the end.

Yes, but I'm at a loss
as to know who.

Must be losing my touch.

We'll have none of that,
Inspector.

I would simply remind you
that in my experience

it is nearly always
the obvious person.

Meaning Jason Rudd?

Well, yes, but he seems
so very devoted,

one cannot see that
he has any kind of motive.

What reason did he give you
for throwing away the coffee?

He should surely
have left it for you.

Precisely, but he didn't think

there was anything
wrong with it.

No, it seems that ever since
the day of the party,

Miss Gregg has thought that
everything was poisoned.

But it transpires that he didn't
throw it all away;

he kept some, had it analyzed
and found it was poisoned.

How interesting.

Miss Marple...

Yes?

What you told me about
Margot Bence being adopted

by Miss Gregg...

You really believe that
after all these years...?

Oh, yes, I do.

Children remember, Inspector.

A grudge,
an injustice, a sorrow.

They do remember.

Yes.

Yes, I know.

My mother, when she died,

I was six years old
in the nursery having tea.

Freshly baked scones,
straight from the oven.

A maid rushed in
and whispered to Nanny,

"There's been a dreadful
accident.

"The mistress...

She's been k*lled."

And I didn't cry or speak.

I just...

stared at the scones,
still warm from the oven.

And even now, whenever I see

a plateful of scones,
I'm filled with sadness.

For a moment I don't
remember, but...

then I do.

Ridiculous, isn't it?

On the contrary, Inspector.

It is most revealing.

Bobby?

It's...

It's...

It's your mother.

Oh, Bobby.

According to your friend
Mrs. Bantry,

Heather Badcock said something
like, "You won't remember,

"but years ago in Bermuda
I got up from bed

"when I had chicken pox

and came along to see you
and you gave me an autograph."

Now, Jason Rudd says

that Miss Badcock
left her bed with flu

to get Marina Gregg's autograph.

Did he say when this was?

About 12 or 13 years ago.

I see.

What?

Not quite as much as I'd like to.

If only I knew
why she'd ruined her new dress.

Who? Miss Badcock?

Yes.

It seems

such a very odd thing to do,

unless... of course.

Oh!

Oh, I must be very stupid!

I am glad that girl
is safely in Bournemouth!

What girl?

Primrose Dixon,

the one who works at the studios
and spoke to Ella Blunt.

How in heaven's name do you
know she's in Bournemouth?

Because I asked Cherry to take
her there on a little holiday.

Why on earth did you do that?

Because I don't want her
to get k*lled, of course.

Chicken pox.

You're sure?

Well, something like that.

I was talking about vodka
at the time

so I wasn't really listening.

She didn't say whooping cough?

Whooping cough?

She wouldn't put on makeup
for whooping cough.

Makeup?

It was the makeup

that made you
think chicken pox?

Or maybe it was nettlerash.

Oh, you're hopeless, Dolly.

Makeup...

makeup...

Of course!

Yes, yes, thank you so much.

Mr. Rudd doesn't see anybody

without an appointment.

Oh, I still need to see him.

He really can't be disturbed.

Oh, I'm sure he can.

Look, why don't you tell me
what it is that you want?

Well, I already have:
I need to see Mr. Rudd.

Miss Marple...

So this is where Marina Gregg
would have received her guests.

Am I right?

Yes.

Yes, and I expect she would
have been standing about here?

Uh, yes, she was.

You know, you remind me
of someone I once knew.

Gerald French.

Uh, what did he do?

Not a lot.

Had a most unfortunate past.

What kind of a past?

Oh, I couldn't possibly say.

So if you'd be so kind
as to fetch Mr. Rudd.

Uh, but Miss Marple...

Don't worry,

I'll be perfectly all right.

I understand now, Mr. Rudd.

The whole thing is
really very simple.

So simple... one just
couldn't see it.

What can I do for you,
Miss Marple?

Thank you so much
for seeing me.

This is really not the best time.

Ah!

An inspector calls.

"Out flew the net
and floated wide,

"The mirror crack'd from side to side,

'The curse has come upon me,'
cried the Lady of Shalott."

That's how Dolly Bantry
described it--

the look on your wife's face.

Although actually
she misquoted.

She said "doom"
instead of "curse."

Perhaps a better word
in the circumstances.

On the day of the party,

while Heather Badcock was
talking to your wife,

Marina was not looking at her,
but at that picture.

And though there was
doom foreshadowed

in your wife's face,
it was not on her

the doom would fall.

It was Heather Badcock
who was doomed

from the moment
she started talking.

I don't follow.

Why should you?

No one has told you
exactly what she said.

But they have, Miss Marple,

over and over again.

But not the crucial phrase,

because no one thought
it was important.

I was just a girl

and absolutely thrilled
at the prospect

of seeing you in the flesh.

I've always been
the most huge fan,

but the most ridiculous
thing was on that day

I went down with a temperature

and the doctor said
I couldn't go.

What a pity!

Can you imagine

[i]my disappointment,
Miss Gregg?

[i]What did the doctor say it was?

[i]German measles.

[i]But I wasn't feeling really ill

[i]and I only had this
little rash on my cheeks.

[i]So I said to myself,

[i]"I won't be beaten."

[i]I got up, slapped some makeup on
and went along.

[i]I am so pleased that
I made the effort.

German measles?

That is correct,

isn't it, Mr. Rudd?

Yes.

A very slight illness, really.

A rash, a little fever,

but extremely infectious,
and if a woman contracts it

in the early stages
of pregnancy,

the consequences
can be devastating.

I think I'm right in saying
your wife had a child

who was born greatly damaged

and that she's never really
recovered from the shock.

She never knew how, or when,

or from whom she'd...

Until the day of the party

when a perfectly strange woman

came up those stairs
and told her.

Imagine what that moment
meant for Marina.

For years she'd nursed
a kind of hatred

for this unknown person
who'd caused her tragedy.

[i]And suddenly she meets
that person face to face,

a person who seems so happy
and carefree

and pleased with herself.

It was more

than she could bear.

Had she had time to think,
to calm herself...

But she didn't.

She always had her pills with
her, so it was very easy to do.

She put the stuff
into her own glass,

and if by any chance
anyone noticed,

they wouldn't have thought
anything of it,

having seen her
take them before.

She managed to jog
Heather Badcock's arm

so that she spilt her drink.

I'm so sorry!

Don't worry.

It's only a Chanel.

And that was where
the confusion lay.

Now, I only had the account

of what Primrose Dixon reported
to Cherry.

She said how funny it was

that she seemed to spill
the drink on purpose...

Yes.

But the "she"
that Primrose referred to

was not Heather Badcock

but Marina Gregg.

It was really
the perfect m*rder.

Have this, why don't you?

[i]I haven't touched it yet.

[i]Oh, I couldn't.

[i]Please do. I've had
f[i]ar too much already.

[i]She wanted
Heather Badcock dead.

And a few minutes later...
she was.

But then she was afraid,
afraid someone had seen,

and could see only one way out:

to insist that the m*rder
had been aimed at her.

She gave the performance
of her life.

Jason!

And only one person
saw through it.

This is

only a theory.

But you know it's the truth,
don't you, Mr. Rudd?

You know, because you knew
from the first.

Can you imagine
my disappointment, Miss Gregg?

[i]What did the doctor say it was?

[i]German measles, but I
didn't feel really ill...

[i]She would go to any lengths
to prove

that she was
the intended victim,

even down to doctoring
her own coffee.

That was her, wasn't it,
Mr. Rudd?

Yes, I thought so.

You were frantic to protect her,

but you didn't realize

how much you would have
to protect her from.

It was not only a question

of hushing up one death,

but also the death
of Ella Blunt...

who finally found the right
person to blackmail,

thanks to Primrose Dixon.

I saw you do it.

I saw you put the tablets
in the glass.

I'm very sorry
for you, Mr. Rudd,

the agony
you've been through

because you care for her so much.

Mr. Rudd, I need
to speak to your wife.

I'm afraid that won't
be possible.

It's all over, sir.

You can't make excuses
for her any longer.

Now where can I find her?

In her bedroom, Inspector.

She died last night in her sleep.

An overdose?

That's right.

Was it an accident?

In my opinion, yes.

But it could be suicide?

It could, but it's most unlikely.

Or someone could
have given it to her?

Almost impossible to prove.

Doctor?

You'll excuse me.

Such a beautiful creature
and such a wonderful gift.

How sad that she couldn't
let go of the past

and see the future
as it really was.

It's very fortunate
she took an overdose.

Death was really

the only escape left.

Yes, Mr. Rudd,

very fortunate indeed.

She was so lovely...

and she had suffered so much.