No!
Lieutenant, you lie to Poirot!
You say that you were
in the barracks by midnight.
But Poirot has proved this
to be false!
At a quarter to 1:00
in the morning,
you were seen
over two miles away
in the company
of the woman who died!
General, this is not a murder,
as is suggested
by the Palestinian police.
But I do believe
that the lieutenant
lied about his whereabouts...
first, out of panic.
And then by sticking
to this lie,
by reinforcing it
with lie after lie,
through weeks and weeks
of deception,
he has heaped suspicion
and the deep shame
on himself, his regiment,
and his wife.
General, the neck of this woman
was not broken by the human hand
but by a fall.
You see here where her neck,
it is broken
in not one but two places.
Put it down!
Before I take my leave
of you in Stamboul, monsieur...
...my commanding officer
has once more
asked me to impress upon you
his thanks
for solving
our regimental difficulty.
If I may speak
out of turn, sir...
...I think it unjust
that one mistake
cost Lieutenant Morris
so dearly.
He was a good man
who was involved in an accident.
Unjust?
He made an error of judgment.
He was a good man.
It did not have to end
in suicide.
I think he believed
he had no choice.
Oh. A man like your friend,
lieutenant, always has choice.
And it was his choice to lie
that brought him into difficulty
with the law.
Mr. Ratchett, sir.
The details have arrived
for the Italian properties, sir.
Downstairs.
Very good, sir.
We're almost there.
Don't rush.
- What time is the train again?
- Down here.
What time is it, John.
We mustn't miss it.
It's 9:00.
Don't worry.
No, don't.
When it's all over... then.
John?
- What's happening?
- What's happening?
Hey. Hey!
Leave this woman alone!
What's happening here?
She's pregnant
another man's child.
The husband wants justice.
- We can't... What can we do?
- Mary.
Come here!
Come here, Mary!
- No!
- Mary.
John, stop them.
What will they do to her?
- No!
- Mary! Mary!
Mary, please.
Please.
Mary.
Here.
Come away.
Welcome to
the Tokatlian, monsieur.
Merci. And may I inquire if
you have for me any messages?
You may, and...
...you do, monsieur.
Merci.
I am so sorry, but I will
have to cancel my reservation.
I am called back to London
but immediately.
Of course.
And if you would be so kind
as to book for me a passage
tonight on the Orient Express.
- Of course, sir.
- Merci.
Leave that alone.
Leave that alone.
If I'd needed assistance, boy,
I'd have asked for it.
Hercule Poirot?
Hercule Poirot, this is you.
What are you doing in Istanbul?
Monsieur, I... I travel
from Palestine to London.
So, uh, you will be traveling
back on the Orient Express?
- Oui. Tonight.
- So am I!
I am the director of the line,
you see?
Oh, but... Pardon.
Of course. It's M. Bouc.
Forgive me.
Now I remember.
Of course you do. I'm...
- Monsieur. I am sorry, monsieur.
This evening the Calais coach
on the Orient Express
is fully booked.
Is it?
- But I will travel tomorrow.
No, no, no. There will be
a berth for you, Poirot.
We keep things back.
There is always room.
It is my business,
and you will be fine.
He's with me.
He's with me.
- Good evening.
- Bonsoir, monsieur.
Nummer acht.
- Frulein Schmidt, bitte.
- Thank you.
And you are in number 14,
Princess Dragomiroff.
- Merci, Michel.
- Je vous en prie.
Eh, Michel! Ah!
Bonsoir, M. Bouc.
It's such a pleasure
to see you again.
Ladies.
I hear you are full up tonight.
Yeah, it's incredible.
The train is fully booked.
The whole world
elects to travel tonight.
Well, this gentleman here
is a personal friend,
and he can have
the number 16.
But the first class
is fully booked.
Even what is held back.
You're in number one, of course,
but I'm afraid I...
Sorry.
Good evening.
Thank you, ma'am.
Number 11, Miss Debenham.
- Thank you.
- Please.
I am Xavier Bouc,
director of the line.
He's a famous man.
The Hercule Poirot?
Yes.
And the company will not allow
him to travel with the luggage!
Can I help you, madam?
Number 11?
That's down the far end.
Is it only me, or is it
criminally hot in here?
I think it might
just be you, madam.
Would you mind
if we kept it shut?
Has anyone seen who's trying to
get on the train?
At Belgrade tomorrow
there will be an extra coach
from Athens
which is likely
to be half empty.
- Is that not so, Michel?
- That is correct.
So I can move compartment then.
The only problem
is with tonight.
Is there
no second-class berth free?
I will travel tomorrow.
It is not a problem.
Am I not too late, am I?
No, madame.
L- It's just my connection
was delayed
because of snow
on the Taurus Express.
The snow is getting hard
from the east, monsieur.
Miss Ohlsson,
you are in berth 10.
Thank you.
I always kiss
my St. Christopher.
I kiss for you too, monsieur.
This Mr. Harris
is not checked in.
In berth seven?
No, not yet.
He's a friend of mine.
Well, it's too late, madame.
The barrier will be closed.
But who are you to commandeer
Mr. Harris's berth?
I'm sure he'll be arriving
very shortly.
He's just a little delayed.
Yes, I am the director of
the Wagon-Lit Company, madame.
That is just who I am.
He's paid your company
for a ticket, monsieur.
- That should be respected.
- Absolutely.
And he will be able to
transfer it without extra cost.
Pardon, madame.
Sorry, Mrs. Hubbard.
This is
a scandal. That's what it is.
No, a scandal would be
if your friend were here,
and I didn't let him on.
In America it would be
considered as such.
Your settler, Mr. Ratchett.
Yes?
Mr. Macqueen?
- What's going on?
- This is Mr. Poirot.
He'll be staying here tonight,
and tomorrow he'll be moved
to his own compartment.
No. No, no.
This is what has to happen,
so this is what is happening.
Monsieur.
- Antonio Foscarelli.
- Masterman.
FOSCARELLl:
Taking the top bunk.
Hope you don't mind.
Mr. Ratchett requests
your attention, if you will.
I'll get there.
Thank you.
Pardon, monsieur.
- Oh!
- Excusez-moi.
I've been calling you now
for 10 minutes.
And I said I was coming, sir.
What's your name?
Why are you asking?
Well, Calais is three days away.
It's a long trip.
Is that all right?
Does it work?
My name's Ratchett.
Mr. Ratchett.
Are you all right, mademoiselle?
Yes.
Yes, I'm fine.
Thank you.
Hercule Poirot.
Mary Debenham.
I've been, uh...
I've been teaching in Persia.
I'm on my way home.
Yes, I saw you this afternoon
in the streets of Istanbul.
- You saw that?
- Oui.
Well, you are not too distressed
by what happened, I hope?
Yes, of course, I am.
And distressed I could do
nothing to help. Aren't you?
Oui, bien sor.
But...
Justice is... is often upsetting
to witness.
Justice?
It's like the gallows
in England.
But, uh, in another culture
it is best not to intervene,
mademoiselle.
The woman was adulterous.
She had not killed anyone.
No, but she had broken
the rules,
and she knew
what that would mean.
What is it you do, monsieur?
If you don't mind me asking.
S'il vous plait.
I also found it upsetting, eh?
It is not pleasant.
I am a detective, Mlle. Ohlsson.
What can I do for you, sir?
Shut the door.
I need to know
the people on this carriage.
Whatever you know about them.
Where they're going.
Where they're from.
I'm sorry, sir,
but company policy...
Shut up.
What do you know
about them, boy?
Madame, your change.
No, no. What's this?
What's a... What's a "drachma"?
Apart from a way
of clearing your throat.
My daughter, who...
Poirot! Poirot!
No, no, no, no, no.
Come here, my friend.
Please.
It's the director's table,
you know.
If the country changes,
you won't be able
to spend any of it.
Please. This is a Greek
fellow called Constantine.
- How do you do?
- He's, um...
- What are you again?
- I am a doctor.
- An obstetrician.
That's right.
I've been in Ankara,
and now I go back to America.
Hercule Poirot.
M. Poirot,
how would you like your eggs?
Two. Boiled.
And exactly the same size,
s'il vous plait.
We are playing a game, Poirot,
and you'll like this.
Where, apart from my train...
my transcontinental train...
would you find, um...
...Hungarian diplomats...
Count and Countess Andreyni;
wealthy American businessmen...
Don't look. It's rude.
A Russian princess
being looked after every step of
the way by her maidservant.
...please,
which is made with parsley
and no more cooked
than 30 seconds.
- Thank you.
C'est bon. Merci.
Italian bachelors.
- M. Poirot.
Young missionary women
from Scandinavia.
- Merci.
- Les Belges.
Um...
English stiff people.
All nations, all classes...
and everything
that goes in between...
eating and sleeping
under one roof?
Oh, Poirot,
he would suggest...
...America.
Absolutely.
The great melting pot.
It took Constantine
four guesses.
And even then
I had to tell him the answer.
That is not true, monsieur.
Michel! Michel!
Champagne.
And he lives there.
Champagne for everyone,
with compliments
of the Wagon-Lit Company.
Ladies and gentlemen, please.
Have a safe journey, and, uh...
And to your good health!
Do you believe in God,
Mr. Poirot?
I never used to, but I do now.
I think he's like an extra gun.
An extra piece of protection.
And I think we all need
some extra protection sometimes,
don't we?
You're gonna take
a job on for me.
Why do you need protecting
on this train?
Because there are people
who know where I am,
what I'm doing.
And what is that?
Penance.
I need to give something back
before I'm forgiven.
But I could be killed
before I do it.
By whom?
I'm a rich man, Mr. Poirot.
I have enemies.
But I need to get to Calais.
You start now.
Non.
I do not play poker
with you, monsieur.
Non.
COUNT ANDRENYl: You're okay.
You're okay.
- COUNTESS ANDRENYl:
- Shh.
You're doing fine.
You're doing fine.
Sacr!
Is this Belgrade, monsieur?
Yes, it is.
It is also very cold.
And I think I will
get back on the train, if I may.
Oh. I thought
you were getting off here.
No, no.
I saw the conductor
moving your valise.
Yes, because from tonight
I have my own compartment.
M. Poirot, compartment number
one is now ready for you, sir.
Merci, Michel.
Merci.
Pardon me...
...for all evil
I have done this day.
Watch over me
while I take my rest.
And deliver me from danger.
Amen.
Amen.
Mr. Ratchett?
Mr. Ratchett,
is everything all right?
Ce n'est rien.
Je me suis tromp.
The man
was in my compartment.
He was standing there.
He was looking at me
as I lay in bed.
He was hovering over me like...
like the angel of death.
Mrs. Hubbard...
Oh, don't "Mrs. Hubbard" me,
you French person.
Mrs. Hubbard,
I assure you,
no one was in your compartment.
How do you know that?
Were you here?
Yes, Mrs. Hubbard.
Good night.
- Michel?
- Monsieur.
Another bottle of mineral water,
s'il vous plait.
Bien sor.
And, Michel,
is everything all right?
It's... It's Mrs. Hubbard.
She's a fantasist.
She... She thinks
men are after her.
Blind men, if you ask me.
And Michel?
The train, it does not move.
No.
We have hit a snowdrift.
Once we were stranded
for nine days.
But hopefully not this time,
not for us.
Oui.
Do you know where we are?
You!
Do you know where we are?
M. Poirot, are you there?
One minute, if you please.
M. Poirot, please!
One minute, if you please.
You must come.
If you please, sir!
I said one minute!
You must come, now!
Please.
I thought we would
need a doctor as well, monsieur.
I brought him his pick-me-up,
sir, at the usual time.
But when he failed to respond,
I... I became concerned.
Has anything been touched?
No.
Michel,
has anything been touched?
No, monsieur.
Doctor.
Poirot, we are in Yugoslavia.
This is not a good place
to have a problem.
This is the backside of Europe.
This is the Wild West.
And I have a carriage
full of civilized, intelligent,
beautiful people who spend money
and who will not want to be
delayed here by a brutal police.
And they will delay them.
Forever.
He has been stabbed.
Maybe 15 times.
In a frenzy.
This is a disaster.
So how long has he been dead?
Maybe seven or eight hours.
So 12:00, 1:00?
If the door was bolted,
then that is how the killer
must have left.
Poirot, on behalf of
the Wagon-Lit Company,
please, sort this out for me.
No, it should be left
to the... to the authorities.
No.
No, no, no.
The police here,
they will not be in your class.
When we get to Brod,
let the world-famous detective,
the genius,
tell the police what happened,
and there will be minimum delay.
Because no one is going to
want to travel on my train
when they hear they'll get
murdered in their bed.
It's my business.
Are all the passengers present
this morning?
Merci.
Vraiment merci.
Michel, are all the passengers
at breakfast?
Not yet, sir.
And is Poirot right in assuming
that the Calais coach at night,
it is made secure?
Oh, yes, sir. Oui.
Absolutely. Absolutely.
There is no way anyone could
have got through to this coach
from another part of the train.
Good.
Well, keep it locked.
No one in and no one out.
The time we were stopped
by the snowdrift was what?
- 2:00.
- Ah.
Because the murderer,
he did not leave by this window
as they hoped to suggest.
How do you know?
Because there are no marks
in the snow.
So the murderer
must still be with us gentlemen.
On the train.
Now.
Princess Dragomiroff?
All the passengers
have been summoned
to the lounge car,
if you please.
20 to 1:00.
As I thought.
You say there are 15 stab wounds
Dr. Constantine?
- Yes.
- But Poirot can count only 12.
Unless there are some others
on his back?
No, no.
So, uh, the murderer
must have crept in, yes,
and stabbed and stabbed
with all his might.
You are not a police surgeon,
are you?
No. What are you?
You are...
- An obstetrician.
- Bon.
You see some of these
are just scratches
delivered with little force, eh?
But here and here,
delivered with strength.
These are the ones
that killed him, Doctor.
Princess Dragomiroff, please!
My lady is not dressed,
monsieur.
I apologize, but you must come
to the lounge car now, Princess.
What is the problem, monsieur?
I'm waiting for you.
Outside.
Oh.
If I stand here as the murderer,
I find the wounds,
some of them,
they have an angle
that is suited to my right hand.
So...
But others, you see?
Impossible.
They need my left.
We have a left.
We have a right.
We have a weak,
and we have a strong.
So is Ratchett trying to tell us
that he was murdered
by two people?
Please.
Please, sit down.
Ah...
Well, ladies and gentlemen,
I have to tell you
that last night
one of your fellow passengers,
Mr. Ratchett, was, um...
was murdered.
- Murdered?
- Yes.
The detective Hercule Poirot
believes that the murderer
is still on the train with us.
So please... So we have sealed
the Calais coach,
and we request
you do not try to leave.
Of course M. Poirot will be
wanting to interview you all.
How was he murdered?
With a knife.
And what is that?
Eh?
The letter "H."
Well, but maybe Poirot
believes this.
In the ash, you see?
The flat matches.
And here there is
the flat match of Ratchett,
but here is a match made of wood
and a piece of paper
that is burned.
So?
So perhaps Poirot, he is correct
when he suggests
that the match made of wood,
it was struck by someone else...
...and the piece of paper
was burned
because it was
in some way incriminating.
Why do we have to stay
in this car? I don't under...
Uh, ladies and gentlemen,
M. Poirot would like one of you
ladies to lend him a hatbox.
Merci.
My old grandfather had one of
these for the wax mustache also.
Now, if this piece of
paper that is burned...
...is indeed incriminating...
...then I am going to
try to resurrect
what was written on it.
"Aisy Arms. "
What does it mean?
Aisy? Aisy?
Aisy Arms.
Merci.
I think it's nonsense,
isn't it, Poirot?
It doesn't mean anything.
I do not know yet.
Poirot.
Here are
the passengers' passports
you requested, monsieur.
Merci, Michel.
Oh, Michel,
if you please to remain
and talk to me about last night.
Hey, don't worry.
Sit down.
Poirot, Michel is not involved.
Since his wife died,
he is married to the company.
He's our hardest worker.
Ah, Michel, your wife...
How did she die?
Out of grief.
My daughter died,
and my wife followed.
When was this, Michel?
Well, it wasn't last night,
was it?
Leave the poor man alone.
It was a few years ago.
Tell us of last night, Michel.
Well, we stopped
at Vincovci a little late.
A quarter to 12:00.
Did you get off the train?
Yes, for a chat, but it
was so cold I didn't stay.
And then
Mr. Ratchett cried out
at about half past 12:00.
Ce n'est rien.
Je me suis tromp.
I really thought
he was just having a nightmare.
And then, um, 2:15,
Mrs. Hubbard...
He was hovering over me like...
like the angel of death.
You remember, monsieur?
Merci.
Merci, Michel.
- Je vous en prie.
And next time you request
a transfer to the Calais coach,
I'm sure it won't be
so dramatic.
For this trip
you request a transfer?
A former colleague of mine
lives in Calais.
I was to visit him.
Yes, Michel normally does
the Paris coach.
- Bien.
- Monsieur.
Did you like your employer?
Oh, I do not find it necessary
to like an employer.
Oh, but I do.
Did you know
that he offered to me a job?
And I did not like him.
Was he, in your opinion,
a gentleman?
Nothing of the kind.
But he had money.
Put a sewer rat in a suit,
and he's still a sewer rat...
He's just in a suit.
Et alors last night
you shared your compartment
with Signor Foscarelli?
And did you stay there
all night?
I read
until 4:00 in the morning.
Because it was a good book, eh?
Because of toothache.
So you know for a fact
that Signor Foscarelli,
he did not leave the compartment
either last night?
No. He snored.
Does this mean anything to you?
Is it an arms firm?
Was he an arms dealer?
I don't know the name
of that firm.
I met Mr. Ratchett
when I was on my uppers in...
Iraq, we call it now, don't we?
He needed a personal assistant
who was good with languages,
which I am, and he paid well.
And he could not speak
the languages?
Not a word.
A little pidgin Italian.
Which even Italian pigeons would
have found hard to understand.
And where in America
was his home?
He never spoke of it.
He was thinking of buying
in Napoli, but,
well, I don't know whether he'd
have been allowed to go there.
Allowed?
I don't delude myself
by thinking Mr. Ratchett
was not on the run,
from something dark in America,
that he wasn't trying to
buy his way back into society.
He didn't know
that I kept these.
Or that I knew we were going to
Calais to pay that money back.
To whom?
Underworld? Mafia?
But they've set him up,
haven't they?
Smoked him out onto the train
with the money
and settled his debts
in the night.
How much was in the suitcase?
Over $200,000.
I stayed in his employment
because I needed money
to get home.
The name Ratchett...
It is an alias.
If you please to follow me.
$200,000?
A penance.
He told to me.
Something dark in America
from where he is ostracized,
and $200,000 blood money
for which he had to atone.
Don't worry.
This is not Samuel Ratchett.
This is Lanfranco Cassetti...
...who, for $200,000,
kidnapped so notoriously
from the home of her parents
in Long Island, New York,
the young child
Daisy Armstrong.
This devil came for her.
And someone in the house
tried to stop him,
but they were hurt very badly.
Her parents
paid the ransom money.
But young Daisy Armstrong...
...she never returned home.
She had died lonely, scared,
at the hands of Cassetti...
...less than one hour
after he took her.
And after this discovery
so terrible,
Sonia Armstrong
went into premature labor
with a second baby
she was carrying.
And, well, this baby,
it did not live.
And neither did she.
Colonel Armstrong, his heart
now broken beyond repair,
could not bring himself
to face another morning.
So four deaths
at the hands of Cassetti.
Mais non. Non, pardon.
Five.
Because the housemaid,
who was French, I think,
and whom the police
were convinced
had knowledge of this crime
but was innocent,
had also taken her own life
in the police cell.
Cassetti was arrested.
But his Mafia family in Chicago
had the prosecutors and judges
in their pockets,
and evidence, it was misplaced.
And Cassetti, he walked away.
Free.
Excuse me,
but isn't anyone going...
...interview me about the events
of last night?
I happen to have seen
the murderer.
Quoi?
Ladies and gentlemen, please.
First, I really want to
apologize for the lights,
but we are seeing to it now.
Poirot has just identified
Samuel Ratchett
as Lanfranco Cassetti.
Yes.
Yes, that's right.
The...
The notorious murderer.
- And I-I don't know what to do.
- What do you mean, Mr. Macqueen?
My father was the D.A.
In the Cassetti case.
He was the prosecutor.
There is a link now
between my name... Macqueen...
and the murder.
It's only
a matter of time before
Poirot remembers this
from the papers.
He has an encyclopedic knowledge
of Cassetti's crime.
So, uh, you knew Cassetti?
But you didn't recognize him
when you worked for him,
did you?
And the detective
is going to believe that?
If it is the truth.
Is that not right, M. Bouc?
Oh, yes. Yes.
Absolutely right.
Poirot is all about the truth.
I was lying there.
Lie here like me,
Dr. Constantine.
- Uh...
- Lie down.
Yes.
Now open your eyes.
He was standing here.
A dark figure.
2:15 in the morning.
- Could you make out his face?
- I couldn't.
Then how do you know
it was a man?
If you've lived the life I have,
Inspector,
you know when there's a man
in your bedroom.
What happened next?
I closed my eyes
and pressed for the conductor.
And your visitor,
where did he go?
He went back through here.
Madame, why is it that
you had not bolted the door
between your compartments?
I had.
Madame Hubbard,
in your life in America,
were you acquainted
with the family
of the young Daisy Armstrong?
Well, I'd heard
of their tragedy, of course.
But they were of the highest
society, and I am not.
This man is the man
who murdered Daisy Armstrong.
Well, if I'd known that,
then, like any American mother,
I'd have ripped
the bastard's heart out.
Pardon my French.
It is indeed a French word.
What's this?
It's a button.
From a conductor's uniform.
What is it doing here?
If... If Michel is not missing
a button, then...
It certainly
wasn't here yesterday.
Then it must be
the assassin's, surely.
Maybe... Maybe he could have
got on... on at Vincovci...
yes, yes...
disguised as a conductor,
then into
Mrs. Hubbard's compartment
with a stolen pass key,
He got all this from a button.
Well, we know Cassetti was alive
at half past 12:00
because he called out
to Michel, "Ce n'est rien. "
Non, non. Non.
M. Cassetti,
he could not speak French,
which is why M. Macqueen
worked for him.
Brilliant!
Brilliant, monsieur!
So that must have been
the voice of the assassin.
Which fits with the watch
and the time of death.
No, but there were
at least two murderers.
Well, he... he could have
just stabbed like a crazy man.
Left hand, right hand.
It is all coming together
in my mind.
I'm very pleased for you,
monsieur.
This is the Mafia...
the Mafia for sure.
The knife...
It is the Italian way.
They want the money,
and there will be a thing
about revenge for some reason.
- It makes sense.
- Of course it does!
Let me ask you something.
Who is Italian on this train?
Who has been in America?
Huh?
Signor Foscarelli.
So you share with Mlle. Debenham
in berths 10 and 11?
Ja.
That Englishwoman does not pray.
I prayed she needs to pray.
Neither of you left
the compartment last night?
Nej.
You have been to America?
Oh, ja.
America.
That is right.
To work?
To speak.
For Jesus.
To raise funds
for the mission in India.
Of course.
To help the children.
Poirot, the money,
it has either been spent...
which I can assure you
it hasn't... or it's not on...
S'il vous plait...
mademoiselle?
You are Catholique?
Oh, no.
I prayed for Catholics.
Because they have it all wrong,
don't they?
- Miss Ohlsson...
- In what way?
The Catholic penance
and forgiveness is false,
isn't it, M. Poirot?
Because there are certain things
that God will never forgive?
Ja.
Like when you violate his law?
Ja.
Violence against children.
Violence against the children.
This man who is dead...
Maybe God came last night
on this train
and refused to forgive.
You have been religious
a long time?
I saw Jesus...
...who protects me now,
as I protect the children.
Five years ago.
Five years I have been with him.
And I'm sure
he's enjoyed every moment.
Well, Poirot.
No money.
No satin negligee.
Well, however,
I know who did the murder.
This Cassetti trial...
It must have brought the press,
the FBI,
down heavily on the Mafia,
hurt their interests...
which they hate...
so they put one of them
on the train,
give him a knife,
and... and get payback.
Signor Foscarelli.
How unfortunate, then, that the
English valet has the toothache
and knows that Signor Foscarelli
did not leave his compartment
all night.
On the night of the murder,
monsieur,
my maid read to me until 11:00.
And you slept through
till the morning?
No.
At 20 to 1:00
I rang for the conductor
to call Frulein Schmidt,
as I had not settled,
and I requested a massage.
Ah, oui.
I left her asleep
at half past 2:00.
I gave my lady a massage
and read more Goethe.
And you did not hear anything
untoward in the carriage?
That is correct.
Princess Dragomiroff,
were you acquainted
with the family
of Daisy Armstrong?
- Yes.
- My lady.
Hildegarde, please.
Leave.
I stayed many times at the
Armstrong house on Long Island,
as I was privileged
to be the godmother
of Daisy's mother, Sonia.
Sonia was the daughter
of the great tragic actress
Linda Arden,
of whom I had been an admirer
for many decades.
Yeah, if my memory is correct,
Linda Arden,
it was a stage name, oui?
Taken from the Shakespeare.
So, what was her actual name?
The name was Waterstone.
Ah, yes, I am remembering now.
Linda Arden,
she had two daughters...
Sonia Armstrong, oui,
and also a younger daughter.
You are correct.
Do you know what happened
to this younger daughter?
Mm, she married someone,
somewhere.
I do not know
what happened to her.
You know
it is Lanfranco Cassetti
who has been murdered?
Monsieur, if I had recognized
that man,
do you know what I should have
liked to have done?
I should have liked
to have called my servants,
flogged this man to death,
and throw him
on the rubbish heap.
That is what was done
with such a man
when I was young, monsieur.
Make no mistake.
I would have stabbed him as he
slept and been proud to confess.
FOSCARELLl: Monsieur?
Poirot. Poirot.
Do you think she did it?
No, that woman was frail.
She would not
have the strength...
- Monsieur?
- Signor Foscarelli.
I hear talk of the Mafia
being responsible.
Yes.
Yes, that's true.
I was talking to the gentleman.
Monsieur, not all
Italian-Americans are Mafia.
Most of us spit on them.
Now, I'm in the motor trade.
I'm a good salesman.
But it's hard to be trusted
when you're Italian.
Men like Cassetti,
they make people hate us.
Monsieur, if these gangsters
are involved,
do not mess with them.
Understand me?
For they are ruthless to anyone,
anyone who crosses them,
and you are no exception!
- You understand that?
- Hey, is that a threat?
It is advice, monsieur.
Merci.
Come in.
How dare
you threaten M. Poirot?
The water.
The water is not working.
- I wasn't threatening anybody.
What is happening?
Frulein Schmidt,
does this belong to your lady?
No.
- She's Natalia.
- Ah.
It's her style
but not her initial.
Merci.
And tell to me if you please...
Were you also
the frequent visitor
to the Armstrong house
in Long Island?
Yes. No.
I knew the Long Island home,
but I've worked at an adjacent
property, another family.
That was how I met my lady.
And you are a good cook, eh?
Yes.
All my ladies have said that.
Bon.
N- No.
I'm a maid.
Ah, forgive me, but you appear
to be more expert in the food.
...which is made with parsley
and no more cooked
than 30 seconds.
No.
I'm a lady's maid.
The reason... The reason
I'm so nervous, monsieur,
and get things wrong
is that I saw the murderer.
I saw him with my eyes when
I finished my lady's massage.
And can you describe him?
He was small, round, and dark.
And when I heard his voice
as he said "pardon,"
it was a woman's voice...
weak like a woman.
Merci.
There is no power,
no power at all.
And it will be
minus-10 degrees tonight.
And they cannot get here
with the plow until the morning.
What are you doing?
How will they cook food?
Hey.
How will we stay warm?
- All his buttons are here.
And sewn with old thread,
so this button must have come
from a second uniform, Poirot.
Last night, Count Andrenyi,
I saw you and your wife
trying to disembark at Belgrade.
My wife can be claustrophobic.
It is difficult for her
on the train.
No. Last night
she took a draft of Trional.
My word of honor.
I did not question your honor.
I am afraid, Poirot,
neither of us
can be of use to you
in this sad investigation.
Non, monsieur.
COUNT ANDRENYl:
I spent two years in Washington
at a posting to the embassy.
You were there five years ago,
I see.
Yes.
I remember the Armstrong murder
in the papers,
if that's what you're...
alluding to.
So this spot of grease
is the result
of an official
who was careless, eh?
Why does she have to write
her name?
S'il vous plait,
as it appears in the passport.
Merci.
Doctor, what is the latest?
The German maid
said she saw the murderer.
Gave Poirot a description.
Why have you not yet
questioned me, monsieur?
Mlle. Debenham, why do you
and Colonel Arbuthnot
pretend not to know each other
when it was quite clear in
Istanbul that you were intimate?
No, don't.
When it's all over... then.
When what was all over, huh?
Hmm? What?
- I'm not at liberty to say.
- Oh, liberty.
Mademoiselle, you will give me
a good answer.
Or when the Yugoslav police
arrive,
you will not be at liberty.
- Now, give me an answer.
- Steady on, Poirot.
I am not at liberty to tell you.
Mademoiselle, do not cross me.
A murder has been committed,
and I have seen you
behaving suspiciously
both before and after
the crime took place.
- You leave her alone!
- John.
- Sir.
- Teddy, sit down.
Colonel Arbuthnot.
Maybe you can explain
what was meant by her words.
I met Miss Debenham in Baghdad.
She was a governess in a house
of an AOC, a friend of mine.
And you fell in love?
Yes.
What is it
with these men who go around
falling in love with the staff?
Will you shut up?
Why the secrecy?
I am currently suing
my unfaithful wife of 20 years
for divorce.
In English law, if she sees me
with another woman,
then she can sue me.
Can't believe
I'm telling you people this.
If that happens,
I will lose my house,
my reputation, my commission.
"When it's all over,"
Miss Debenham said.
When the divorce is all over.
When that is behind us.
Colonel,
in all your years of service,
did you know Colonel Armstrong,
father to
the young Daisy Armstrong?
By reputation, yes.
He was a fine man.
Military Cross.
Passchendaele.
Now, you listen, Poirot.
By all accounts, this man
deserved to die last night.
But I would have been happier if
he'd been convicted by a jury.
I see.
12 good men and true?
The civilized way.
Poirot, I have moved
the little gas stove
from the galley to the lounge,
and, well,
I propose we should stay there
for the night.
Bon.
Gather them all there.
M. Bouc, I have been thinking of
the theory of Dr. Constantine,
of the assassin who got on
disguised as a conductor.
Yes.
At Vincovci, yes.
And the uniform
of this conductor
must have been
discarded somewhere.
And Poirot,
he thinks he knows where.
It must be amongst
the possessions
of the one person
it could not possibly be.
The witness who says
she saw the assassin.
Frulein Schmidt.
Do you have the button he lost?
Oh, yes. Please.
Bon.
Please to keep watch.
Monsieur, I found this
in my sponge bag.
It's certainly the kind of knife
that would have made the wounds.
Oui.
He must have hidden it
in my sponge bag
when he passed through
my compartment.
That must be the case.
I think it proper
to save my conclusions
for the police at Brod.
But when I sleep,
I... I see his face.
I can't keep his face
out of my mind.
- Mary, please.
- It's all right.
She sees the face of the man
she saw last night.
The murderer.
Full of anger, like...
like he wants to kill you?
I see his face.
This murder,
it would have been perfect, eh?
If it had not been
for the snowdrift.
Is that not so,
Frulein Schmidt?
I think that there are
two solutions to this murder.
In the first,
the Mafia assassin
gets on the train at Vincovci,
off at Brod with the money,
Cassetti killed.
But one or two of you notice
a different conductor in
the corridor, notify the police.
But the assassin
would have gone.
Vanished.
But because of the delay,
there had to be
an improvisation.
And so a second solution
proposes itself...
...to me.
Elena Wasserstein.
With a careless smudge
on "Elena. "
COUNTESS ANDRENYl: Oui.
Enough, eh?
Because maybe...
...maybe Poirot should not be
looking at your first name...
...but your second...
...Countess Wasserstein.
Waterstone.
The family name
to Sonia Armstrong
and her younger sister, Helena.
My wife
does not understand English.
Let's stop this right now.
Yes.
Let us stop this.
You had the handkerchief
with an "H."
That would have pointed to me.
And you would have found
my connection to Daisy.
- Your niece.
- My sweet niece.
This girl
hasn't done anything wrong.
You know nothing, monsieur.
You don't touch her.
Shall I tell you what I know?
Huh, Mlle. Debenham, shall I?
I know, because Frulein Schmidt
told me,
that the Christian name
of Princess Dragomiroff is...
She's Natalia.
And is it not so, Princess,
that in the Russian alphabet
the capital letter "N"
is written like
the Western letter "H"?
So I know that there is more
than just one connection
with Daisy Armstrong
on this train.
The godmother,
the... the aunt...
...and the son
to the prosecutor,
who Poirot remembers from the
papers ended his career in shame
because he rigged the trial.
Cassetti's connections
threatened to kill me...
his son...
if he didn't do what they asked.
W- What was he supposed to do?
He was supposed to have ensured
that justice was done
in an open court, monsieur.
This girl did not murder
that man.
Not in a frenzy, no.
This was a cold crime,
was it not, Mlle. Debenham?
One long in the planning.
But it was you, M. Bouc,
who first suggested to Poirot
that only in America
could such a society as this
all be found together.
But maybe also
in the house of a rich man
in Long Island.
Because...
Ah.
Here we have the cook.
And that is Frulein Schmidt,
is it not so, Michel?
Hmm?
And next to her
is your daughter,
the French housemaid,
Mlle. Francoise,
who fell under
the suspicion of the police
for her complicity in the death
of Daisy Armstrong
but who actually was innocent,
eh, and committed suicide.
Signor Foscarelli,
what were you?
- The chauffeur?
- The chauffeur.
And also the lover
to Mlle. Francoise.
All she did was talk to
a stranger in a shop.
She let slip some details
about the house,
what time
the nursemaid took off.
She didn't know she was talking
to a man like Cassetti.
Yes, and all this in 1933.
Five years ago.
How long have you been
with Jesus, Mlle. Ohlsson?
Five years I have been with him.
So Poirot, he suspects
that you were that nursemaid.
Some crimes
God does not forgive.
And you, Mlle. Debenham.
The professional governess, eh?
With paralysis
down one side of your body.
How, I wonder,
could you possibly
have sustained such an injury?
At first I thought that you,
M. Masterman,
you were the butler to the
Armstrong household, but no.
Then I observed how familiar the
Colonel Arbuthnot was with you.
And now I believe you served
together in the army,
alongside the Colonel Armstrong.
Teddy was his batman
throughout the war.
He was the best of gentlemen.
And he was my closest friend.
And then Linda Arden.
So famous that there was
a danger of you being recognized
if you were to board the train
as yourself, eh?
You even fooled Poirot.
12 people.
And 12 wounds
in the body of Cassetti.
12 members of a jury.
But I do believe
that the Count Andrenyi
was a man of honor,
and his wife had been protected
and was not involved
in the killing,
and took her Trional
as he had said.
That's correct.
So who, then, was the 12th?
Could it possibly be the man
who tried to deflect Poirot
at every turn?
That is how the killer
must have left.
The obstetrician from America...
...who Poirot suspects
counted among his clients
a family on Long Island,
and who he watched
how they suffered.
We have Miss Debenham
to thank for our plan.
It was her fortitude
that brought us all together
and channeled our determination.
The plan had great beauty.
Cassetti's whiskey was drugged
so that he was awake
but could not react to anything.
We needed him to know
of his execution.
Aaaaaaaaaah!
Mr. Ratchett?
Mr. Ratchett,
is everything all right?
Ce n'est rien.
Je me suis tromp.
After you had heard that,
all we needed was for you
to go to sleep, M. Poirot.
I could tell you who we are.
But all you need to know,
is that the people that you
killed are all in heaven,
Mr. Cassetti,
while you are going to hell.
That baby must have been
so scared when you killed her.
Did you not think
that we would not
search the world
to get justice for those
good people that we loved?
So the whole business
of this trip...
The berth bought
for a "Mr. Harris"...
...so no outsider bought it.
The watch!
All but a farce, was it not,
Linda Arden,
to make the mockery of Poirot?!
You were
our first piece of bad luck.
And then the snow, which meant
we couldn't get to Brod.
But how will the assassin
leave the carriage?
Just through the window.
Yes.
Yes, he could have tried
to go through my room,
and I've... I've woken up and
he's had to come back in here.
You have no right to take
the law into your own hands!
M. Poirot.
She was 5 years old!
We were good, civilized people.
And then evil get over the wall,
and we looked to the law
for justice.
And the law let us down.
No, no.
No, you behave like this,
and we become just savages
in the street!
Where juries and executioners,
they elect themselves!
No, it is medieval!
The rule of law,
it must be held high!
And if it falls, you pick it up
and hold it even higher!
For all society,
all civilized people,
will have nothing to shelter
them if it is destroyed!
There is a higher justice
than the rule of law, monsieur.
Then you let God administer it,
not you!
And when he doesn't,
when he creates a hell on earth
for those wronged,
when priests who are
supposed to act in his name
forgive what must
never be forgiven?
Jesus said...
...let those without sin
throw the first stone.
Oui.
Well, we were without sin,
monsieur.
I was without sin.
When we get to Brod...
if we ever get to Brod...
let these good people go,
monsieur.
Hand me over to the police.
My world has gone.
Let these people live.
Non.
The worst kind
of murderer, Poirot!
- Monsieur.
- The devil incarnate!
You can't stand here
and defend him to us.
You're as bad as a crook
in the courthouse, sir.
Lock the door.
It is true, monsieur.
You can tell these people
are good people...
...that Cassetti...
that Cassetti, he deserved to be
executed for what he did,
and the world knows it was
a travesty that he was not!
Non!
Lock the door!
We can present the conductor's
uniform to the police in Brod
and let these people go free.
Non!
What are you doing?
I can't be seen here.
I won't be seen here.
Colonel...
We have assigned one murder
to the assassin.
- We can assign two more.
- We are not murderers, Colonel.
Open the door!
- Killing Cassetti was God's law.
- Open the door!
If you kill them,
you're no better than Cassetti!
- Get out of my way!
- No!
No!
No.
If we kill them, we will have
become like gangsters,
just protecting ourselves.
God knows how hard it will be
to carry Cassetti's murder
through our lives.
But how unconscionable
will it be
to carry murders that are wrong?
I'm proud of you, John.
I'm proud of you for getting
justice for your friend.
And I love you.
I love you.
But we don't do what is wrong,
my darling.
We don't do what is wrong.
Monsieur?
- May I come through?
Of course.
I have some tea.
- Can I take it to him?
- Oh, yes. Yes.
Can I ask if there will be
police arriving
with the snowplow?
Yes.
They will be there, yes.
Princess Dragomiroff is making
everyone tea on the stove.
One thing you didn't solve
was where we hid the money
we were going to give back
to the Armstrong trust.
Non.
But I think the princess
put on much weight
from one day to the next.
To have been so well insulated
would have been useful
last night.
You said of the woman
in Istanbul
that she knew the rules
of her culture
and knew what breaking them
would mean.
So did Cassetti.
And so do you.
When you've been
denied justice...
...you are incomplete.
It feels that God has
abandoned you in a stark place.
I asked God...
I think we all did...
what we should do.
And he said do what is right.
And I thought if I did,
it would make me complete again.
And are you?
But I did what was right.
The name of the captain is?
Djavidatza.
Merci.
Capitaine.
As you know...
I have here the uniform,
Capitaine.
And in the committing
of the murder,
he left behind a button.