Agatha Christie's Poirot

[repeated line]

Captain Hastings:
I say, Poirot!

Captain Hastings:
[Repeated line] Good Lord!

Hercule Poirot:
I am awaiting a concrete piece of evidence - the final piece of the puzzle.

Inspector Morton:
What kind of evidence?

Hercule Poirot:
I cannot say at the moment - I may be wrong.

Inspector Morton:
Doesn't often happen to you.

Hercule Poirot:
It has happened twice in my career.

Inspector Morton:
That's a relief! To be right all the time might get a bit monotonous.

Hercule Poirot:
I do not find it so.

Miss Gilchrist:
Young people nowadays seem so uncaring. They don't know what it is to be alone in the world.

Hercule Poirot:
The journey of life... it can be hard for those of us who travel alone, Mademoiselle. Have you always been a companion to a lady?

Miss Gilchrist:
No. I used to have my own tea shop, "The Willow Tree". Oh, it was a delightful little place, Mr Poirot. All the china was blue-willow patterned... so pretty, and the cakes were really awfully good, if I say it myself. But a Lyons' establishment opened up nearby and my little place failed.

Hercule Poirot:
Ah. Oh, this happens to many people in these times, I think.

Miss Gilchrist:
[Service bell rings] It's Mr Timothys' bell...

Hercule Poirot:
The journey of life can be hard for those of us who travel alone.

Hercule Poirot:
They lied very well. They are all performers.

Hercule Poirot:
You put a piece of wedding cake under your pillow, and you dream of your future husband.

George Abernethie:
Yes, it's extraordinary, isn't it? The way some women are loyal to buffoons of husbands when other men, men who should inspire real loyalty, are made fools of.

[talking about Poirot]

Lord Boynton:
Oh God! Here comes that *ghastly* little Belgian!

Dr Gerard:
[to Poirot] Where Lady Boynton is, the music of the spheres is curiosly like the nails down a blackboard.

Hercule Poirot:
You see, mon ami, the voices of the little gray cells have begun to sing to Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
Did Lady Boynton harm you physically?

Raymond:
My mother had little recourse to violence. She ws too smart for that. Instead, she just pried open the top of our skull and raked her poisonous tongue through our brains. No place to hide, Poirot - even in our heads!

Dame Celia Westholme:
[Speaking of Sister Agniesska to Poirot] I don't much care for her... the way she hangs aroud the younger Boynton girl. They sniff out weakness... nuns... and misery, and they gorge on it. Bloody vampires in drag, quite frankly!

Dr Gerard:
Look to the living. They pay their bills quicker and make better... conversation.

Hercule Poirot:
There is nothing in the world so damaged that it cannot be repaired by the hand of the almighty God. I encourage you to know this, because without this certainty, we should all of us be mad.

Dame Celia Westholme:
People say travel broadens the mind; mainly because, people like me insist in it in their books. But I have to say, I doubt that it is true. On the contrary, I suspect travel narrows the mind. One becomes so blase about the wonders of the world. The more I travel, the more clearly I understand that; all that ever matters is the people - not the places. Those Arabs telling stories over couscous in the camp, they fascinate me. This... [indicating the vista she and Poirot are viewing] it's pretty enough, but... show me the humans every time.

Hercule Poirot:
The question is, can Hercule Poirot possibly by wrong?

Mrs. Lorrimer:
No one can always be right.

Hercule Poirot:
But I am! Always I am right. It is so invariable it startles me. And now it looks very much as though I may be wrong, and that upsets me. But I should not be upset, because I am right. I must be right because I am never wrong.

[Hercule Poirot and Ariadne Oliver are in a gallery when Poirot frowns at an abstract sculpture]

Ariadne Oliver:
You really must try and broaden your horizons a little. Some of these pieces are terribly revealing. For instance, what do you make of that?

Hercule Poirot:
[sighs] I - I do not know what to make of it, Madame Oliver.

Ariadne Oliver:
Not symmetrical enough for you?

Ariadne Oliver:
Oh, look, it's Mr. Shaitana. What is he? An Armenian? A Greek?

Hercule Poirot:
No one knows. All that is known is that he is one of the richest men in London.

Ariadne Oliver:
He gives me the jitters.

Hercule Poirot:
[referring to the gallery] But I see that you yourself have lent a few pieces?

Mr. Shaitana:
Oh, one picks up trifles, here and there. I have a few interesting objects I could show you. I daresay I could even produce one or two things in your line, Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
Ah, so you have then, your private 'black museum,' no?

Mr. Shaitana:
Oh, no, no, no. I don't collect the artifacts of crime: the murderer's hammer, the poisoner's cup. I collect only the finest objects of their kind.

Hercule Poirot:
And what do you consider to be the finest objects, artistically speaking, in crime?

Mr. Shaitana:
Why, the human beings who commit them, Monsieur.

Mr. Shaitana:
[gesturing grandly to his mansion] It is modeled on the Alhambra!

Ariadne Oliver:
In Pontefract?

Mr. Shaitana:
[bemused] In Spain.

Ariadne Oliver:
Oh, I thought you meant the picture house. Sorry.

[Hercule Poirot attends a party at Mr. Shaitana's home]

Mr. Shaitana:
My dear Monsieur Poirot, come in, come in. How simply divine to see you.

Hercule Poirot:
Monsieur Shaitana.

Mr. Shaitana:
I don't know if you know the famous Mrs. Oliver.

Hercule Poirot:
Ah, yes, of course I do. Enchante, Madame.

Ariadne Oliver:
Hello, Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
I did not realize you accepted this kind of invitation, Madame.

Ariadne Oliver:
Oh, well, Mr. Shaitana can be awfully persuasive.

Mr. Shaitana:
We met at a literary dinner. Mrs. Oliver was the guest of honor.

Ariadne Oliver:
Oh, yes, it was the Crime Writers Circle, wasn't it? Come to think of it, what were you doing there?

Mrs. Lorrimer:
Do you know Mr. Shaitana well, Colonel Hughes?

Colonel Hughes:
No, not at all. Rather surprised to be invited, as a matter of fact. Do you know him?

Mrs. Lorrimer:
I know that he likes to be different.

Colonel Hughes:
Probably went to the wrong kind of school, eh?

Hercule Poirot:
Do you know anyone here, Madame?

Ariadne Oliver:
No, I don't know a soul, but I've made a few inquiries.

Hercule Poirot:
Oui?

Ariadne Oliver:
Yes. That little thing is Anne Meredith, a country mouse, up to town. [referring to Major Despard] The dashing major can't keep his eyes off her. As a matter of fact, I've got his book on my shelf. Oh, what's it called? "Amazonian Idle?" I haven't read it yet, but I intend to, because I'm planning to send Sven up the jungle.

Hercule Poirot:
[puzzled] Sven?

Ariadne Oliver:
Sven Hjerson? My DETECTIVE.

Hercule Poirot:
Ah.

Ariadne Oliver:
Fictional, of course.

Ariadne Oliver:
I've no idea who the older lady is, Mrs. Lorrimer, but she and the young one [referring to Anne Meredith] have been throwing glances at each other in the most odd manner. Who's the policeman?

Hercule Poirot:
Superintendent Wheeler of Scotland Yard.

Ariadne Oliver:
[judging Wheeler's expression] Bowel trouble, that would be my guess. And your friend, from the Foreign Office?

Hercule Poirot:
Oh, that is Colonel Hughes.

Ariadne Oliver:
Secret Service, is he?

Hercule Poirot:
[pointedly] Jen sais pas.

Ariadne Oliver:
Hm, seems our Mr. Shaitana is a little bit... crime-minded, shall we say? He has the most curious taste. One never knows what he's going to find amusing. Might be something... cruel.

Hercule Poirot:
You mean, peut-?tre, like the foxhunting?

Ariadne Oliver:
No, I meant something more... Oriental.

Mr. Shaitana:
Dr. Roberts.

Dr. Roberts:
Good to see you, Shaitana. I'm not late, am I? An elderly patient called me out. She thought she had a tumor; I thought she was depressed.

Mr. Shaitana:
And what did you prescribe?

Dr. Roberts:
Champagne and oysters at Wilton's. She'll be right as rain by tomorrow.

Ariadne Oliver:
[to Poirot] Remind me never to go to him if I'm poorly.

Mr. Shaitana:
Typically a woman's weapon is poison, is it not, Poirot?

Hercule Poirot:
[to Mrs. Lorimer] I imagine, Madame, that to you every incident is as clear as if it was yesterday, like a ghost that never goes away.

Hercule Poirot:
Do you think Shaitana played any card games?

Major Despard:
There is only one game that Shaitana played... a low-down game. We all make mistakes. Even you, I dare say, have a failure now and then.

Hercule Poirot:
Well, the last one was 28 years ago.

[Last line. Poirot is looking at Shaitana's portrait]

Hercule Poirot:
So, we have played, and Hercule Poirot, he has won.

Ariadne Oliver:
[at the gallery]... Some of these pieces are terribly revealing. For instance what do you make of that. [nodding at a sculpture]

Hercule Poirot:
I do not know what to make of it Madame Oliver.

Ariadne Oliver:
Not symmetrical enough for you?

[to Poirot; about Dr. Roberts]

Ariadne Oliver:
Remind me not to go to him when I'm poorly.

Ariadne Oliver:
[about Dr. Roberts] Of course, that Welsh name. Never trust the Welsh.

Ariadne Oliver:
[looking around the study; to Poirot] Have you redecorated?

Hercule Poirot:
No... I moved.

Ariadne Oliver:
Hmph!

Hercule Poirot:
[to Major Despard, who is on horseback] there was a Mrs. Luxmore.

Major Despard:
How did you know?

Hercule Poirot:
My friend, Madame Oliver. She discovered that your editor made one tiny error. In Chapter four, you mentioned that you went on safari, accompanied by the Luxmores. Plural. Later on, there was only one.

[pause]

Hercule Poirot:
Did you shoot him?

Major Despard:
[after a short pause] Yes.

Hercule Poirot:
Were you in love with his wife?

[Scene shows Major Despard, now standing right by Poirot; confessing his past]

Major Despard:
Luxmore claimed that he was looking for herbs and mosses for medical purposes.

[scene shifts to a flashback showing Mr. Luxmore sprinkling strange ingredients into something]

Major Despard:
[voiceover] But really what he was looking for was ingredients for narcotic drugs...

Mr Luxmore:
[he pours a strange steaming liquid into a glass from a beaker]

Major Despard:
[voiceover cont] Old fool began experimenting on himself.

Hercule Poirot:
And what happened?

Major Despard:
He went berzerk.

[Scene shows a now dangerously intoxicated Luxmore reeling around like a drunken man]

Mr Luxmore:
[grunting as he sways forward toward his wife and grabs her]

Mrs Luxmore:
[she screams as he grabs her and throws her around. She gets cornered in a corner of the tent as Luxmore clumsily tries to attack her with a machete]

Major Despard:
[bursting into the tent, brandishing a rifle] Luxmore!

[Luxmore grunts, looks at Despard, and then turns back towards Mrs. Luxmore's direction and raises his machete. Despard aims and shoots Luxmore in the back killing him; saving Mrs. Luxmore. Mrs. Luxmore and Despard look at each other in horror and shock]

Major Despard:
[back in the present] There were no Europeans for at least hundreds of miles. Lily and I decided to cover the incident up with Luxmore dying of a fever to avoid a scandal. If the truth ever be found out, she would be ruined. And so will I. So... I shut the lid on my emotions, buried him there and came back...

[repeated line]

Ariadne Oliver:
Bother!

[Poirot, Mrs. Oliver, Col. Hughes and Supt. Wheeler enter the room where Shaitana is sleeping in a chair, while the other guests are playing bridge]

Supt. Jim Wheeler:
Mr. Shaitana? It's about time we'd be going. Mr. Shaitana?

[pause; he looks at Mr. Shaitana's face]

Supt. Jim Wheeler:
I'm damned if he has fallen asleep.

[He notices a handle of a stiletto knife sticking out of Mr. Shaitana's vest. He gets up and looks at Poirot]

Supt. Jim Wheeler:
[serious] I say... Poirot?

[Poirot looks up, comes over to Mr. Shaitana's chair and examines him while Wheeler removes the glass goblet from Mr. Shaitana's hand. After an intense moment, Poirot gets up and turns to Col. Hughes]

Hercule Poirot:
Col. Hughes?

Colonel Hughes:
[Col. Hughes comes over and checks Mr. Shaitana's pulse; filled with shock] My God...

Supt. Jim Wheeler:
[tot the guests] Um... May I have your attention please? I regret to inform you that Mr Shaitana... is dead.

Mrs. Lorrimer:
[genuinely shocked] Dead?

Dr. Roberts:
[getting up] There must be some mistake... Let me look at him.

Supt. Jim Wheeler:
That won't be necessary, doctor. Stay where you are.

Dr. Roberts:
The fellow must have fainted.

Supt. Jim Wheeler:
He hasn't fainted... He's been murdered.

Ariadne Oliver:
Murdered?

Supt. Jim Wheeler:
Stabbed through the heart!

[Mrs. Oliver's eyes widen in shock]

[first lines]

Bob Rawlinson:
You've left it too late, sir. I said so.

Prince Ali:
I know, Bob. I know.

Bob Rawlinson:
The game's up, I'm afraid, chum.

Prince Ali:
Fair enough. You did get them out, though? You're sure of it.

Bob Rawlinson:
Safe as houses. I swear it.

Prince Ali:
Ready, then?

Bob Rawlinson:
Ready.

Miss Bulstrode:
Thank you once again for coming.

Hercule Poirot:
De rien.

Miss Bulstrode:
The mayor is blaming his ulcers, but I suspect foul play.

Hercule Poirot:
Como?

Miss Bulstrode:
Arsenal versus Sheffield United; kick-off's at three. I know where His Worship's loyalties lie.

Miss Bulstrode:
I hope you're enjoying your little sojourn with us, Monsieur. I'd hate to think you were bored.

Hercule Poirot:
Bored? Pas du tout, Mademoiselle. There does not need to be present a crime for the investigator to thrive, non. Pas. This school: it is like the world in miniature. It is like the... what is the word? The?

Miss Bulstrode:
Microcosm.

Hercule Poirot:
Just so. Just as in the outside world. Hopes, dreams, fears, secrets. This place: so full of the promise of youth, the future of the nation. And yet, how lonely and silent are it's corridors at night. Lonely and silent as the chambers of the heart. The daily struggle of human life. As fascinating as the bloodstain or the fingerprint.

Inspector Kelsey:
Bad business, this.

Miss Bulstrode:
We shall weather it, no doubt. As we've weathered many storms.

Inspector Kelsey:
Death of a games mistress in a sports pavilion. Sounds like a highly athletic crime.

Miss Bulstrode:
Discretion, Inspector, is the key, don't you think?

Inspector Kelsey:
Which is where our continental friend comes in?

Miss Bulstrode:
Monsieur Poirot has an international reputation.

Inspector Kelsey:
Oh? So does Mussolini.

Hercule Poirot:
[four months after his death, voice-over] I have instructed my lawyers to deliver this manuscript to you four months after my death, by which time you will no doubt have evolved the most preposterous theories. But really, mon ami, you should by now have been able to work out who killed Norton. As to who killed Barbara Franklin, that may come as more of a shock. When you asked if I knew who was the killer, I did not quite tell to you the truth. I knew, but had to make sure. You see, I had never met this person before, and had never seen this person in action before. It did not take long. At last, at the end of my career, I had come across the perfect criminal. Well... nearly perfect. No one gets the better of Hercule Poirot... not even Stephen Norton.

Captain Hastings:
Well, I'll be...

Hercule Poirot:
[voice-over] Oh yes, Norton was our man. He had been a sickly boy with a domineering mother. He had had a hard time at school, and disliked blood and violence - a trait most un-English. But he had a sympathetic character, and soon discovered how easy it was to make use of it. By understanding people, he could penetrate their innermost thoughts, and then make them do things they did not want to, compensation for a lifetime of derision. This sense of power gradually developed into a morbid taste for violence at second-hand, which soon turned into an obsession. Our gentle Norton was in fact a sadist, addicted to pain and mental torture. Remember the remarks he made, that first evening you played bridge?

Hercule Poirot:
[flashback to Norton and Hastings at the bridge game] Norton meant him to hear. Sometimes successful, sometimes not, it was a drug he constantly craved.

Hercule Poirot:
[flashback to Colonel Luttrell shooting his wife] No motive, no evidence, no proof - simply evil for the sake of it, a criminal who could never be convicted for his crimes. You will have realized by now that Franklin was in love with Judith, and she with him. But with Madame Franklin alive, life was very difficult for Judith, and Norton knew exactly how the wind lay. He played most cleverly on the theme of useless lives...

Hercule Poirot:
[flashback to the dinner party]... and gently ridiculed the idea that she would ever have the nerve to take decisive action. But for a murder addict, one iron in the fire, it is not enough. He sees opportunities for pleasure everywhere, and found one in you, mon ami. He discovered every weak spot to exacerbate your profound dislike of Major Allerton. Then you saw Allerton and Judith kiss.

Hercule Poirot:
[flashback to the glass house that night] Norton hauled you away so that you did not see what followed. You went to the glass house, and thought you heard Allerton talking to Judith. Yet you did not see her or even hear her speak - Norton made sure of that, for if you had, you'd have discovered that there was never any been any question of Judith going to London that day. It was Nurse Craven with whom he was having the affair, but you fell headlong into the trap of Norton, and made up your mind to murder.

Hercule Poirot:
[flashback to Hastings heading into Allerton's bathroom] I heard you come up that evening, and was already exercised about your state of mind. So when I heard you in the corridor, and go into the bathroom of Allerton, I slipped out of my room.

Captain Hastings:
Slipped out of your room? But...

Hercule Poirot:
[voice-over] "How?" I hear you say. You see, Hastings, I was not helpless at all.

Captain Hastings:
What...?

Hercule Poirot:
[voice-over] Why do you think I sent George away? Because I could not have fooled him into believing that I had suddenly lost the use of my limbs. I heard you in the bathroom of Allerton and promptly, in the manner you so much deplore, dropped to my knees. I realized what you were up to, made my preparations, and sent Curtiss to fetch you. So I gave to you the hot chocolate.

Hercule Poirot:
[flashback to Poirot giving Hastings hot chocolate] But I also, mon ami, have sleeping pills. When you awoke the next morning, you were your own self again, horrified at what you had nearly done. But it decided me, Hastings. You are not a murderer, but might have been hanged for one. I knew that I must act and could put it off no longer, but before I was able to, Barbara Franklin died... and I do not think that you have once suspected the truth. For you see, Hastings... you killed her.

Captain Hastings:
*I* killed her?

Hercule Poirot:
[voice-over] Oui, mon ami, you did. There was, you see, yet another angle to the triangle, one that I had not fully taken into account. Did it ever enter your mind why Madame Franklin was willing to come to Styles? She enjoys the good life, yet insisted on staying in a guest house, and I have no doubt that Norton knew why: Boyd Carrington. Madame Franklin was a disappointed woman; she had expected Dr. Franklin to have a brilliant career, not shut himself away in esoteric research. And here is Boyd Carrington, rich and aristocratic, who had nearly asked to marry her when she was a girl, still paying court. So the only way was for her husband to die, and Norton had found her only too ready a tool.

Hercule Poirot:
[flashback to Mrs. Franklin speaking with Norton, then Poirot] It was so obvious - her protestations of admiration, then her fears for her husband. But when she saw Nurse Craven reading the palm of Boyd Carrington, she had a fright. She knew he would be suseptible to the charms of an attractive woman, and perhaps Nurse Craven might end up as Lady Boyd Carrington instead of her. So she decided to act quickly.

Hercule Poirot:
[flashback to Mrs. Franklin's room] She invites us all up to her room for coffee. Her cup is beside her, and that of her husband is on the other side. Then everyone goes to watch the shooting starts except you, mon ami, left with your crossword and your memories. You hide your emotion by swinging around the bookcase as if looking for a book, and so when we all return, Madame Franklin drinks the poisoned coffee meant for her husband, and he drinks the coffee meant for her. I realized what must have happened - that she had poisoned the coffee, and that you had unwittingly turned the table, but you see, Hastings, I could not prove it.

Hercule Poirot:
[flashback to the inquest into Mrs. Franklin's death] If the death of Madame Franklin was thought to be anything but suicide, suspicion would inevitably fall on either Franklin or Judith. That is why I was so insistent that Madame Franklin *had* killed herself, and I knew that my statement would be accepted, because I am Hercule Poirot. You were not pleased, but mercifully, you did not suspect the true danger. Will it come into your mind when I am gone, like some dark serpent that now and then raises its head and says, "Suppose, just suppose, it was my Judith"? And therefore, you must know the truth.

Hercule Poirot:
[flashback to Styles after the verdict] There was one person most unhappy with the verdict... Norton. He was deprived, you see, of his pound of flesh. Madame Franklin had died, yes... but not how he desired. The murder he had arranged had gone awry, so what to do? He began to throw out hints of what he saw that day with you and Mademoiselle Cole. He had never said anything defilite, so if he could convey the impression that it was Franklin and Judith he saw, not Allerton and Judith, then that could open up an interesting new angle on the suicide case, perhaps even throw doubts on the verdict. And I realized what I had planned all along had to be done at once, the moment I had dreaded - the most difficult decision of my life.

Hercule Poirot:
[flashback to Norton heading into Poirot's room] That is why I invited Norton to my room that night... and told to him all that I knew.

Hercule Poirot:
[laying out newspaper clips] Madame Constance Etherington, tried for the poisoning of her husband, a man who was very sadistic but also addicted to the drugs, and with whom you were on terms most intimate. Norah Sharples, poisoned by her niece, Freda Clay...

Stephen Norton:
I hope you're not s-suggesting I was on intimate terms with *her*.

Hercule Poirot:
[lays out a photograph] You and Mademoiselle Clay taking a walk together. You see, I do my homework, Monsieur Norton. And... Matthew Litchfield. Now you visited him, did you not, on the night he was killed by his daughter Margaret.

Stephen Norton:
What is your p-point, Monsieur Poirot?

Hercule Poirot:
My point is this, Monsieur Norton: That in none of these murders was there any real doubt - there was one clear suspect and no other - but you, Monsieur Norton, are the one factor malevolent common to all.

Stephen Norton:
[scoffs] Oh d-dear, Monsieur Poirot, is that the b-best your "l-little gray cells" can come up with?

Hercule Poirot:
Your proximity to these three murders was too much of a coincidence, and I smelt, as you say, the rat! That is why I came to Styles, to observe you function, and you have not disappointed, monsieur. No, you are a man who is very clever, but not clever enough for Hercule Poirot.

Stephen Norton:
So... what are you going to d-do about it?

Hercule Poirot:
Execute you.

Stephen Norton:
[incredulous] Execute me?

Hercule Poirot:
Oui.

Stephen Norton:
[mockingly looks at his watch] Then d-do get on with it. I p-promised myself an early night.

Hercule Poirot:
Justice is no joking matter, monsieur. I do what I can to serve it, but if I fail, there is a justice that is higher, believe me!

Stephen Norton:
[sneering] You p-pathetic, self-important little man. Murder me? There's a mortal sin if ever there was. And then what? Suicide to escape the ignominy of hanging? Ah... your G-God will give you a hell of a time. All those years of piety, up in smoke because of me. [Poirot has an angina attack, begins gasping] Ah ah ah, monsieur, you c-can't go yet. You don't think I'd let you d-die on me, d-d-deprive me of my ultimate t-triumph?

Hercule Poirot:
[gasping for breath] Please... please...

Stephen Norton:
You see, if you d-don't succeed, I'm a free man. And even if you do, it will still be a v-victory of sorts, because in the eyes of the law, I would be innocent, whereas you and your reputation, your p-precious reputation... b-blown to bits.

Hercule Poirot:
[gasping] Je vous en prie!

Stephen Norton:
[mockingly] "Je vous en prie"... you can see them now. "Went off his rocker. In the end, you can never trust a foreigner." [pops the amyl phial, and Poirot inhales it] You see how good I am to you, old man? There we go. Take your t-time, and see how it all p-pans out, shall we? [sing-song voice] Who will be there at the final curtain?

Hercule Poirot:
I pity you, Norton... how very sad to find that this great and beautiful world is so foul and disappointing. And your mother, I pity even more.

Stephen Norton:
M-my m-m-mother? You pity my mother?

Hercule Poirot:
To endure the agony of bringing you forth only to discover that she had nurtured in her loins such wickedness - is that not worthy of pity?

Stephen Norton:
It is you who is n-not worthy! She m-m-meant the world to m-me!

Hercule Poirot:
And you to her?

Stephen Norton:
She l-loved me... l-loved me m-m-more than... m-more than...

Hercule Poirot:
Did she ever hold you, Norton, as mothers do? Stroke your hair... kiss your cheek?

Stephen Norton:
She... she... she...

Hercule Poirot:
Scared you, did she not? She pushed you away! Starved you of what we all desire, because she knew everything about you!

Stephen Norton:
M-my mother knew NOTHING!

Hercule Poirot:
Oh, Monsieur Norton... mothers know. They always know.

Stephen Norton:
[begins sobbing uncontrollably... then suddenly stops, smirking] Shots in the dark, Poirot. Shots in the dark.

Hercule Poirot:
[chuckles, nodding] Bon... chocolate?

Stephen Norton:
Would you mind awfully if I d-drank yours instead?

Hercule Poirot:
[smiles] Not at all.

Hercule Poirot:
[voice-over] It was quite immaterial. I take the sleeping tablets and have acquired a certain tolerance. The dose that would send Norton to sleep would have little effect on me. With the greatest of difficulty, I put him in my wheelchair, then, when the coast was clear, I wheeled him to his room. You will not have realized, Hastings, that recently I have taken to wearing a false moustache. Even George does not know that.

Hercule Poirot:
[flashback, showing Poirot in Norton's room, removing his false moustache] I put on the dressing gown of Norton, tapped on your door, then went into his bathroom. Presently, I heard you open your door. I left the bathroom and returned into the room of Norton, locking the door behind me.

Hercule Poirot:
[struggling to lay Norton on his bed] I put the dressing gown on Norton, and lay him on his bed. I had a pistol, which on two occasions I had placed ostentatiously on the dressing table of Norton when he was out, so that the maid would have seen it.

Hercule Poirot:
[puts the pistol to Norton's head as he awakens, smiling... then fires] I put the key into the pocket of his dressing gown and locked the door from the outside with a duplicate I had made, then returned to my room and began writing this. I played the game, as you English say. I gave to you the clues and every chance to discover the truth, pointing you towards Iago, the original Stephen Norton. My only weakness was to shoot him in the center of his forehead and not in his temple, but I could not bring myself to produce an effect so lopsided. That, mon ami, is my nature, and should have told to you the truth.

Hercule Poirot:
[voice-over as Hastings speaks with Miss Cole] Take my advice for the last time. Tell to Mademoiselle Cole all that I have said, that you also might have done what her sister did, had there been no watchful Poirot to stop you. Take the nightmare away, and show how Norton, not her sister, was responsible for the death of her father.

Hercule Poirot:
[flashback to Styles, as Hastings discovers Poirot dead in his room] I have no more to say. Am I justified in what I have done? I do not know. I do not believe that a man should take the law into his own hands... but by taking the life of Norton, have I not saved others? I have always been so sure, but now...

Hercule Poirot:
[flashback, Poirot writing the confession, kissing his rosary] When the moment comes, I will not try to save myself, but humbly offer my soul to God and pray for His mercy. It is for Him to decide. Ah, Hastings, my dear friend. They were good days. Yes... they have been good days.

[first lines]

Auctioneer:
Ladies and gentlemen, lot 22. An Esker Brant wrought iron wall mirror and console table. I shall open the bidding at thirty pounds. Do I see thirty pounds? Thirty pounds.

Captain Hastings:
This what you came for, Poirot?

Hercule Poirot:
Yes, it is, Hastings; I thought for the vestibule, you know, by the door.

Auctioneer:
Forty pounds.

Captain Hastings:
How high will you go?

Hercule Poirot:
Ninety pounds.

Auctioneer:
Fifty pounds.

Hercule Poirot:
It will be enough.

Chief Inspector Japp:
You'd been told about his death?

Vanda Chevenix:
Oh yes... Saffra told me. She knew.

Chief Inspector Japp:
Did she indeed? Ms Chevenix,can you tell me where I might be able to get hold of this Saffra?

Vanda Chevenix:
[Smile] She used to live in Egypt.

Chief Inspector Japp:
She moved?

Vanda Chevenix:
No!

Chief Inspector Japp:
Ah, there you are Poirot... you got any idea how I can get hold of this Saffra ? Some sort of friend of Mrs. Chevenix.

Captain Hastings:
Saffra's dead... she's Vanda's spirit guide.

Chief Inspector Japp:
Ah... I might as well be off then.

[last lines]

Miss Lingard:
Mr Poirot, I don't want Ruth to see me. I don't care what happens to me, but please, don't let her see me... [breaks down]

Hercule Poirot:
You have my word.

Hercule Poirot:
This Gervase Chevenix, it does not occur to him that Poirot is also a man of importance, a man of affairs? And yet he summons me like a mere nobody, an obedient dog!

Captain Hastings:
I take it you'll refuse?

Hercule Poirot:
To refuse, yes, it is my first instinct. But, you know, Hastings, a man with so much arrogance as this, even he may be vulnerable in ways he cannot see.

Captain Hastings:
And he did offer you that mirror.

Hercule Poirot:
That too.

Ferguson:
[to Poirot] Quite a field day for you, isn't it? Everyone dropping like flies!

Hercule Poirot:
Love is not everything.

Jacqueline De Bellefort:
Oh, but it is. It is. You must know that. Surely you understand.

Hercule Poirot:
It is terrible, mademoiselle: all that I have missed in life.

Jacqueline De Bellefort:
[after a pause and a long exhale] Good night, Mr. Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
[Softly] Good night.

Ferguson:
A spoiled brat, a domestic parasite, and a drunken old bat: who cares whether they're dead or not?

Cornelia Robson:
You really are the rudest young man.

Ferguson:
It's the future that matters, woman, not the past.

Cornelia Robson:
Did you ever consider for one moment that someone out there might be grieving for that poor maid? Or how distraught Rosalie might be? And as for Linnet Doyle, well, she was just so beautiful.

Ferguson:
[to Poirot, laughing] Do you know that Cornelia's father was practically ruined by Linnet's old man, and all she can say is how beautiful she was!

Cornelia Robson:
I thought you said it was the future that mattered, not the past.

Ferguson:
Touchee. Will you marry me?

Cornelia Robson:
What?

Ferguson:
It's against all my principles, I know, but I think you should, so how about it?

Cornelia Robson:
It is a disgusting idea. You are opinionated, unreliable, and utterly, utterly irritating!

Ferguson:
Well, apart from that?

Jacqueline De Bellefort:
It's terribly easy, killing people, Monsieur Poirot. You begin to think it doesn't matter.

Ferguson:
Some lunatic's about to take power in Germany and all we read about is how some spoilt brat stole her best friend's fiance.

Rosalie Otterbourne:
Some people have everything.

Hercule Poirot:
Has life been unfair to you mademoiselle?

Rosalie Otterbourne:
You've met my mother.

Joanna Southwood:
Isn't it awful when one's friends drops on hard times? One simply has to drop them!

Salome Otterbourne:
[pointing at Tim Allerton who kisses the hand of his mother] My god, did you see that?

Rosalie Otterbourne:
Keep your voice down.

Salome Otterbourne:
She is old enough to be his mother...

Rosalie Otterbourne:
She is his mother!

Cornelia Robson:
I'd love someone to dance with me.

Miss Van Schuyler:
But who on this planet would want to dance with you?

Jacqueline De Bellefort:
She has taken everything from me, Monsieur Poirot, and I want to hurt her; to put my gun against her head, and gently pull the trigger.

Hercule Poirot:
What sets you apart, M. Ferguson?

Ferguson:
I make people aware... and I certainly don't swirl around like a fop!

Hercule Poirot:
Do not open your heart to evil, mademoiselle. If you do there will be no turning back.

Dr. Bessner:
Doyle is ready to see you.

Jacqueline De Bellefort:
Is he all right?

Dr. Bessner:
Of course he is not all right. You shot him!

Linnet Ridgeway:
God, what were they actually for? [gesturing to a sphinx statue]

Simon Doyle:
I never really thought about it. Perhaps they were their equivalent of garden gnomes.

Jacqueline De Bellefort:
Nice try Simon, but just a little wide of the mark. The sphinx was, in fact, a monster from Greek mythology, with a woman's head... see? And a lionesses' body. And it said - oh, don't you want to know? [as they walk away] It said riddles for travelers... and killed those who got them wrong.

[first lines]

Captain Hastings:
Isn't it bracing, Poirot?

Hercule Poirot:
Bracing, Hastings?

Captain Hastings:
The weather.

Hercule Poirot:
No, it is cold and wet. Did you know, Hastings, that the earth is cooling at a rate of three degrees every twelve thousand years?

Captain Hastings:
No, I didn't know that, no.

Hercule Poirot:
Ah.

Captain Hastings:
Still, beautiful fountain, isn't it?

Hercule Poirot:
It's feeble, Hastings. Fountains used to be more vigorous. Artistic too.

Captain Hastings:
I don't know what's wrong with you today, Poirot. Nothing seems good enough for you.

Hercule Poirot:
I am finished, Hastings.

Captain Hastings:
Finished?

Hercule Poirot:
Yes. I shall retire, I think.

Captain Hastings:
But you're at the height of your powers, Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
You are being kind, Hastings.

Captain Hastings:
No, I'm not. Well, you've got a nice home, uh, devoted friends, a brilliant career.

Hercule Poirot:
No no no, mon ami. I am nothing. I have nothing. Poirot is finished.

[last lines]

Captain Hastings:
Allow me, Poirot.

[picks up fallen paper]

Captain Hastings:
There's something about you here, Japp. "Chief Inspector Japp to speak in North Country lecture tour." You knew! That's why you dragged me all the way up here.

Hercule Poirot:
No, no. It was the other side I was interested in. I did not know that...

Captain Hastings:
[turns clipping over] "Learn to speak French like a Frenchman"?

Hercule Poirot:
In Belgium, Hastings, it is considered quite bad form to read another person's newspaper cuttings.

[taking clipping]

Hercule Poirot:
Thank you.

Lady Amanda Manderley:
[furious at being hauled away by a policeman after crashing her car into a haystack] Why can't you leave me alone! Don't you know what it's like to love a man?

Captain Hastings:
[nonplussed] Well ah... no ah... not exactly.

Captain Hastings:
I'm worried about Poirot, Miss Lemon. He's talking about retirement.

Miss Lemon:
That's because he hasn't had an interesting case for five minutes.

Captain Hastings:
[about Poirot] Well, he's always been middle-aged. Have you seen that photograph of him at his christening?

Miss Lemon:
[chuckling] I know!

Captain Hastings:
He looks as though he's about to address a board meeting!

Hercule Poirot:
[appears] Who looks as if he's about to address a board meeting?

[Poirot spies on Japp]

Chief Inspector Japp:
[giving a speech] The professional private detective, ladies and gentlemen, is not the glamorous figure of fiction. He is a man who, failing in more worthy walks of life and being of meddlesome and troublemaking disposition, finally comes to rest in a dingy office over the chip shop, where he plies for hire in the sordid world of petty crime and divorce.

[a shamed Poriot prepares to leave... ]

Chief Inspector Japp:
Except, I have to say, for one. I have been fortunate in my career, in that many - in fact most of my cases have been shared with the most extraordinary of private detectives and, if I may borrow a word from his own native tongue, that doyen of the Belgian police force, Monsieur Hercule Poirot. I think I may say without fear of contradiction that Hercule Poirot has one of the most original minds of the 20th century. Intelligent, brave, sensitive, devastatingly quick, Hercule Poirot stands head and shoulders above any other detective of my considerable experience.

[a pleased Poirot bows and leaves]

Hercule Poirot:
In my book, as you say, monsieur, everyone is a suspect.

Hercule Poirot:
You forgot the Sisters Tripp.

Captain Arthur Hastings:
Oh those two? They're batty, yes, but not murderers surely?

Hercule Poirot:
What is murder but a kind of madness, mon ami?

Hercule Poirot:
The cold heart indeed, madame, which deserves no pity.

Captain Arthur Hastings:
I just wondered if you were having problems sleeping.

Hercule Poirot:
So you awaken me to inquire? That is friendship indeed, Hastings.

Hercule Poirot:
[upon hearing a doctor's diagnosis of his fainting at a social gathering] I demand at once a second opinion! Hercule Poirot, he is not obese!

Miss Lemon:
'Medically obese,' Mr. Poirot; it's not quite the same thing.

[Emily Brewster reveals that there was a hint of paleness under the tan on Arlena's body]

Chief Inspector Japp:
The paleness of death.

Hastings:
This must be that ladder down to Pixie Cove.

Hercule Poirot:
Comment?

Hastings:
Pixie Cove. It's what they call this beach.

Hercule Poirot:
For me Hastings, I call it too steep and too dangerous.

Hercule Poirot:
[while talking about the possible reasons for Arlena Stuart entering the cave] But then the question becomes why did Arlena Stuart enter the cave?

Hastings:
Perhaps she was hiding from someone.

Hercule Poirot:
Hastings... Once again you come up with an explanation that makes everything clear.

Chief Inspector Japp:
Not to me it doesn't.

Hastings:
You mean she was afraid of someone?

Hercule Poirot:
I mean, Hastings, that there is evil on this island. And the murder that took place here was the work of a mind that was brilliant. But there is one thing the killer did not expect, eh - the mind of Hercule Poirot. En bien. It is now time for these two minds to meet, and the truth at last must come to light.

Miss Lemon:
[Poirot is on his way to Hastings' El Ranchero restaurant] You look very smart Mr Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
You think so Miss Lemon? It is true.

Hastings:
But surely no one could think of murder in such a beautiful place.

Hercule Poirot:
No no no, no Hastings. It is romantic, yes. It is peaceful. The sun shines, the sea it is blue. But you forget mon ami that there is evil everywhere under the sun.

Hercule Poirot:
It is surprising, is it not, how soon in life the die is cast.

Amyas Crale:
Living in a house full of women is enough to send any man off his chump.

Hercule Poirot:
The truth, it has the habit of revealing itself...

Hercule Poirot:
Human nature has an infinite capacity to surprise.

Hercule Poirot:
Hercule Poirot: You kill her, you kill yourself.

[first lines]

Doctor:
There's very little I can do for him now, Mrs Hill. He's very weak.

Mrs. Hill:
Oh dear! Is there no hope?

Doctor:
I'm afraid not. It's more a matter of hours, rather than days, now. Doesn't Mr Anthony have any relatives?

Mrs. Hill:
There's a brother, Henry, but they haven't spoken in twenty years.

Doctor:
No one else?

Mrs. Hill:
Well, yes. There's Mr George, his nephew, in London. I expect he'd want to know.

Hercule Poirot:
Cricket. The English enigma. I know not of any other game where even the players are unsure of the rules.

Bonnington:
To my good friend, Hercule Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
Bon.

Bonnington:
For whom life without mystery would be like... roast beef without the mustard.

Hercule Poirot:
C'est la v?rit?, mon ami.

Makinson:
[On the art gallery for contemporary modern art] Man throwing a stone at a bird!

Captain Hastings:
Really? Which is which?

Hercule Poirot:
Joan Miro, Hastings. An exponent of the surrealist vision. [to Makinson] A work inspired by the dream, non?

Makinson:
Yes, a man with the most individual imagination.

[At the art gallery for contemporary modern art. Poirot and Hastings are carefully inspecting a non-figurative painting, then approached by Makinson]

Makinson:
Man throwing a stone at a bird!

Captain Hastings:
Really? Which is which?

Hercule Poirot:
Joan Mir?, Hastings. An exponent of the surrealist vision. [to Makinson:] A work inspired by the dream, non?

Makinson:
Yes, a man with the most individual imagination.

George:
Not enjoying it, sir?

Hercule Poirot:
It is the subject matter, George. It is distasteful. Poirot, he has seen much evil in this world. It should not be the subject of such mockery.

Judith Butler:
You sure you're going about this the right way, Monsieur? Shouldn't you be looking for Joyce's killer in the here and now?

Hercule Poirot:
Old sins cast long shadows, Madame.

Mrs Goodbody:
I's always been on the outside, me, looking in. That ways you get to see things... different. I sees things all the time. Sometimes with me eyes, sometimes in the leaves.

Hercule Poirot:
Comment? The leaves?

Mrs Goodbody:
Tea leaves, me duck. You can see a lot in 'em: past, future, sometimes just tea. Maybe as our little Joyce might have seen things too.

Hercule Poirot:
Quite so.

Hercule Poirot:
Ch?re Madame, you should not work, you should rest.

Ariadne Oliver:
I have deadlines, Poirot. In sickness and in health. My child of an editor is pressing me for another draft of "I'll Huff And I'll Puff".

Hercule Poirot:
Comment?

Ariadne Oliver:
Sven Hjerson solves a murder in a hot air balloon over Abyssinia.

Michael Garfield:
[Referring to Olga Seminoff] Very like her to aim high.

Hercule Poirot:
Ah. So you knew her?

Michael Garfield:
Oh, yes. Ever so popular with the young men of Woodley Common.

Hercule Poirot:
You are suggesting she was possessed of the loose morals?

Michael Garfield:
Well, that is one way of putting it.

Michael Garfield:
[Referring to Rowena Drake] Do take care, old boy. You will only survive if you look at her reflection in a polished shield.

Frances Drake:
I mean, fancy saddling your daughter with a name like Frances Drake.

Rowena Drake:
I've told you a thousand times it's only ignorant people who make a joke.

Frances Drake:
Yes, but it's me who has to live with it. I've heard them all. Armada this, game of bowls, that. I've even been begged to throw down my raincoat over a puddle for some queen or other.

Rowena Drake:
You! Get away from this house! You are not welcome here.

Michael Garfield:
I beg your pardon?

Rowena Drake:
I've made it perfectly clear to you, Mr. Garfield, on numerous occasions, that I do not approve of you hanging around in this fashion.

Michael Garfield:
Oh, I'm afraid I can't help it. Such a lovely view.

[winks at Frances Drake]

Hercule Poirot:
The victim. One must always return to the victim. For their personality, their nature, it, it is the key. What has everybody told to Poirot about Madamoiselle Joyce Reynolds? Huh? She is a liar, a teller of the tall tales, a boaster, a little liar. So when she claims to have witnessed the murder, nobody believes her. And yet, she is... dead.

Miranda Butler:
I have to die, so that others might live? So that beauty can live?

Hercule Poirot:
This garden! With which Michael Garfield is never satisfied! His masterpiece!

Judith Butler:
His nature. Even his passion for beauty and creation; there was a sort of madness to it.

[last lines]

Hercule Poirot:
Halloween is not a time for the telling of the stories macabre, but to light the candles for the dead. Come, mes amis, let us do so.

Hercule Poirot:
And, of course, the garden so cherished. It is your paradise. But it's soil is drenched in the blood of the innocent, huh? And it's fruit? Ugh... is black and bitter.

[first lines]

Judith Butler:
It doesn't have to be a masterpiece, Ariadne.

Ariadne Oliver:
No, no. Better take my time. Last one looked like it had had its throat cut.

Michael Garfield:
[to Poirot] It is an awful shame, do you not think, Monsieur, that we all must wither and die?

Inspector Raglan:
You know what kids are like... always exaggerating. They'd tell you black was white at that age. Why? You reckon there's something in it?

Hercule Poirot:
I do not know. A young girl boasts to have seen a murder, and some hours later that girl, she is dead. It could be cause and effect, but if so, somebody lost no time.

Simeon Lee:
My family hate me, you know.

Hercule Poirot:
It is not hard to see why.

Superintendent Sugden:
[referring to the missing diamonds] They definitely only were missing, but only two people could have done it, and one of them might have done it as a joke.

Hercule Poirot:
I have yet to meet anybody in this household that has even the most rudimentary sense of humor.

Hercule Poirot:
Chief Inspector, you have been thinking again. I have warned you of this before.

Simeon Lee:
You don't look very tough.

Hercule Poirot:
Hercule Poirot is a detective not a bodyguard, monsieur.

Simeon Lee:
[Telephone rings] Hercule Poirot?

Hercule Poirot:
Yes, it is I Hercule Poirot who speaks.

Japp:
Ah, good morning. Mr Harry Lee, I presume?

Harry:
And who are you?

Japp:
Chief Inspector Japp, Scotland Yard.

Harry:
Brought in the big guns, have they?

Simeon Lee:
It's a terrible thing to get old, Lydia.

Chief Inspector Japp:
These psychologists, most of them are barmy themselves.

Mrs. Hubbard:
I think she might have been a secret drinker.

Chief Inspector Japp:
After all the bottles we found in her room, there's no secret about it.

Chief Inspector Japp:
What's that thing in the bathroom, Poirot?

Hercule Poirot:
Comment?

Chief Inspector Japp:
Like a umm... foot bath.

Hercule Poirot:
Ah, the bidet.

Chief Inspector Japp:
Oh, bidet. It's got a sort of fountain thing in the middle; what's that for?

Hercule Poirot:
Uhh... it is of no significance.

Chief Inspector Japp:
Nearly got a squirt in the eye when I turned it on.

Miss Lemon:
Kumpf! [snorting with stifled laughter]

Chief Inspector Japp:
[to his men] D'you hear that? If there wasn't a lady present, your ears would be burning so much they'd boil what's left of your brains.

[last lines]

Hercule Poirot:
That is enough! The office of Poirot is closed for business. Miss Lemon, cover up your typewriter. Good day to you, Chief Inspector Japp.

[Hastings sneezes]

Hercule Poirot:
And, Hastings. will you please go home and nurse your unfortunate affliction.

[first lines]

Nicholai:
Spasibo.

Chief Inspector Japp:
Well, at least she came quietly. There's a nice, tidy end to the whole business.

Hercule Poirot:
I do not think so, Chief Inspector. Come, Miss Lemon.

Chief Inspector Japp:
Oh, no.

Chief Inspector Japp:
We're doing our own little test right now. Down at the mortuary. Perhaps you'd rather wait in the taxi, Miss Lemon.

Miss Lemon:
No, thank you. I did help in the hospital morgue during the war.

Hercule Poirot:
More filing, Miss Lemon?

Miss Lemon:
Mister Poirot!

Hercule Poirot:
No no no, Hastings! It is no use! Not to take this case is for Poirot more hard work than to take it!

[Poirot unable to resist a mystery]

[first lines]

Ed Opalsen:
Ladies and gentlemen. When the Russian actress and dancer Natalya Dolzhenko made Salom? in 1908, she wore a necklace made of magnificent pearls given to her by the czar. Last week, at an auction in Paris, I paid three hundred thousand francs for that same pearl necklace. My wife is going to show it to you now.

[Margaret Opalsen steps up onto the stage and removes her stole, revealing the necklace]

Margaret Opalsen:
Ladies and gentlemen, dear friends, our new play premi?res here, at your beautiful theatre, next week, prior to a six month tour of America.

Ed Opalsen:
Yes, Margaret is taking the leading part. And she will be wearing the czar's pearls at each and every performance.

Guest:
Mr Opalsen! Don't the pearls get stolen in the course of the play.

Ed Opalsen:
Yes they do, but that's in the play. They'll be under guard twenty-four hours a day. I think I can promise you that they're not going anywhere.

Margaret Opalsen:
I bet you'd guessed who'd stolen the pearls by the second interval, Monsieur Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
Not at all, Madame, it was a question that ceased to occupy my mind long before the first.

[last lines]

Hercule Poirot:
You are Lucky Len of the Daily Echo, and I claim my ten guineas.

Lucky Len:
You're right. I was Lucky Len, but I'm sorry, I got fired this morning.

Hercule Poirot:
Fired! Why?

Lucky Len:
Too many people were recognizing me. The paper's decided it must be my face. It's too common.

Hercule Poirot:
Common?

Lucky Len:
That's what they say. Bit of a cheek, if you ask me, but there you are.

Hercule Poirot:
They are wrong, mon ami. You have a face that is most distinguished. You have no need to work for this newspaper. You have a face of a great man.

Lucky Len:
You think so?

Hercule Poirot:
Oh, yes; I know it.

Poirot:
Do not be anxious, madam. All will be arranged. You have my word.

Hastings:
We're still as much in love as the day we met.

Poirot:
When, if I remember correctly, you thought her to be guilty of murder, n'est-ce pas?

Hastings:
Yes, well, since then I think I've learned what makes women tick.

Poirot:
Ah, yes. The ticking of the women. It has always been a mystery to Poirot.

Hastings:
Don't tell me you're falling for her?

Poirot:
No no no, Hastings. Poirot, he does not fall. He observes merely.

[first lines]

District Judge:
James Gordon Bentley, you have been tried for murder. Abigail McGinty was found by the baker on the floor of the sitting-room with extensive wounds to the head. The house in Broadhinny evinced no sign of forced entry. All the police surgeon was able to ascertain was that she'd been hit with a sharp, heavy implement, probably some time the night before. You, Bentley, were suspected from the very beginning. You knew where she kept her money; you had recently lost your employment, and then the investigating officer, Superintendent Spence, found sixty pounds in legal tender under a stone by the garden path. So you had the motive, and you had the opportunity.

Spence:
Does anyone really commit murder for the reasons we've been considering?

Hercule Poirot:
Ah. The passion for respectability it is very strong, Superintendent. These are not artists or bohemians. No, very nice people live in Broadhinny. They tell to me so themselves.

Hercule Poirot:
Superintendent? I have some very good news for you. No no no no no, no, no. It is that someone has attempted to kill me.

[last lines]

Hercule Poirot:
Whitehaven Mansions, if you please.

Hercule Poirot:
[to James Bentley] Come now. Is it a crime to like a pretty girl?

Hercule Poirot:
Well, I too suffer. The cooking of Madame Summerhayes; it is beyond description. Well, it is not cooking at all. The currents of the cold air. The long hairs of the dogs. The chairs. The terrible, terrible beds in which I try to sleep! And the coffee: words cannot describe to you the fluid they serve to you as coffee.

Hercule Poirot:
In other words, you say to me that you are only a damn foreigner.

Hercule Poirot:
But I am afraid, Madame, that your female intuition; it has taken the day off.

Hercule Poirot:
That is your great mistake, Madame... to think only in terms of money.

Hercule Poirot:
[to Spence] Do you know what is the biggest problem of my life...? An abundance of leisure.

Eve Carpenter:
[to Poirot] If you know the answer to everything, I don't see why you bother to ask questions.

Bill Coleman:
[after going over a bump while driving his jeep at high speed through the desert] Whoops!

Hercule Poirot:
[groaning with discomfort] Unh!

Bill Coleman:
That was a good one!

Hastings:
[with annoyance] We don't have to get there in five minutes, you know!

Bill Coleman:
That's half the fun. You're growing old, Ucle Arthur.

Hercule Poirot:
Mr. Coleman, I myself have aged ten years since entering this auto mobile.

Hercule Poirot:
...the people most important that you deal with are those that are dead.

Dr. Leidner:
But you don't have as much paper work. [laughs]

Hercule Poirot:
[amused] For the world it is drowning in paper.

Anne Johnson:
[excavating the body of a child] Poor little beggar! He's about... six years old I'd say. Sent into the next world with nothing but a little pot and a couple of bead necklaces.

Hercule Poirot:
Perhaps that is all any of us need, Mademoiselle Johnson.

Hastings:
But why would she write threatening letters to herself?

Hercule Poirot:
O, I think that would be an assumption too great to make, Hastings, on the grounds of the similarity of the handwritings. But if it were so, it would not be an occurence unheard-of.

Hastings:
Pretty ruddy silly if you ask me.

Hercule Poirot:
Ah, well, if only people would ask you, Hastings, they would refrain from the ruddy silliness.

[last lines]

Hercule Poirot:
When she opened the cupboard, she tried to focus our attention on the wrong object, so she used the briefcase as a... what is it? A bloater? Kipper?

Captain Hastings:
Red herring.

Hercule Poirot:
Absolutely. And now, my friends, it is time for me to take you to lunch.

[first lines]

Hercule Poirot:
Hastings, my friend, tell me: to blow up the English Parliament, was it a sin or a noble deed?

Captain Hastings:
Oh, it's no good asking me, old son. I was never much of a one for politics. Where's Mrs Japp tonight, then?

Chief Inspector Japp:
She can't abide fireworks.

Hercule Poirot:
Ah, the noise disturbs the delicate sensibilities of many ladies.

Chief Inspector Japp:
Maybe, maybe. I think it's more that she doesn't like to see people enjoying themselves.

Miss Lemon:
The trouble is, Mr Poirot, they just don't understand the letters.

Hercule Poirot:
Why not?

Miss Lemon:
They're Chinese, Mr. Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
The Bulldog Breed laundry is Chinese?

Miss Lemon:
Yes, Mr Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
What is the world coming to Miss Lemon?

Miss Lemon:
I'm sure I couldn't say, Sir, but when the boy brings your laundry back, he brings the letters back too for me to explain to him.

Hercule Poirot:
And you do.

Miss Lemon:
No?

Hercule Poirot:
Why not?

Miss Lemon:
I don't speak Chinese.

Hercule Poirot:
So what do you say to him?

Miss Lemon:
Well, I... I say "Him collar no vely good starchy." I show him the collars and say it.

Hercule Poirot:
Hastings my friend, you spent some years in China, did you not?

Captain Hastings:
Oh absolutely. Fine fellows, fine fellows.

Hercule Poirot:
Did you ever have any trouble with your laundry.

Captain Hastings:
Yes I did as a matter of fact.

Hercule Poirot:
And what did you say to them?

Captain Hastings:
Well, I said "Him collar no vely good starchy."

Miss Lemon:
That's where I got it from, Sir. I asked the Captain, knowing he'd been in the East.

Hercule Poirot:
But Hastings, my collars they do not get any better.

Captain Hastings:
No. Mine didn't either, now I come to think about it.

Hercule Poirot:
[dictating a letter to Miss Lemon] To the Bulldog Breed Laundry. Dear Sirs: Once again, I am obliged to communicate to you, the dissatisfaction I have for the starching of my collars. I refer to my instructions of the second of March, 1935, and subsequent letters...

Captain Hastings:
Why don't you get yourself some turned-down collars, Poirot? They're much more the thing, you know.

Hercule Poirot:
The thing, Hastings? You think Poirot concerns himself with mere thingness?

Captain Hastings:
Aah, no.

Hercule Poirot:
Hmm.

Captain Hastings:
No, I, I, I see that, Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
The turned-down collar is the first symptom of decay of the grey cells!

Captain Hastings:
What a good night for a murder, eh? I mean, if somebody wanted to kill anybody, nobody would know if it was a gunshot or a firework.

Hercule Poirot:
But not so good, my friend, if your chosen method is strangulation.

Captain Hastings:
No. That's true, no.

Chief Inspector Japp:
Or poisoning, come to that.

Chief Inspector Japp:
Not murder made to look like suicide... suicide disguised as murder.

Hercule Poirot:
The name of Poirot is feared on golf courses all over the continent.

Golfer:
You don't happen to have a handicap certificate on you, do you, sir?

Hercule Poirot:
No, no, I'm fine.

Chief Inspector Japp:
That's something in your line, Poirot. You like chasing about after the kind of triviality that leads nowhere.

Jane Plenderleith:
It was justice, and you call it murder?

Hercule Poirot:
Because it IS murder! The man you wished to entrap is already in prison! Do you wish to destroy him as well? Do you wish to do as he did, to take the life of another human being? [pause]

Jane Plenderleith:
No. I wish that, but I can't.

Giraud:
Monsieur Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
Monsieur Giraud.

Giraud:
[Hand over his pipe for losing to Poirot] This is yours, I think.

Hercule Poirot:
No monsieur. You may keep your pipe but from this moment each time you light it you'll think of HeRcule Poirot?

Giraud:
Yes, I will.

Hastings:
A lot of golfers are very gastronomic, you know, Poirot. Nothing like eighteen holes to build up an appetite. You really ought to try it, you know; you might find you actually enjoy it.

Hercule Poirot:
To hit a little ball into the little hole, in the middle of a large open field - I think it is not to the taste of Poirot.

Pierre Michel:
Monsieur Poirot, how would you like your eggs?

Hercule Poirot:
Two, boiled, and *exactly* the same size, s'il vous pla?t.

Hercule Poirot:
[furious] You people! With your kangaroo jury, your kangaroo justice! You had no right to take the law into your own hands!

Hildegarde Schmidt:
M-m-monsieur Poirot, she was *five years old*!

Caroline Hubbard:
We were good civilized people, and then evil got over the wall, and we looked to the law for justice, and the law let us down.

Hercule Poirot:
No! No, you behave like this and we become just... savages in the street! The 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 of society, all civilized people will have nothing to shelter them if it is destroyed!

Greta Ohlsson:
There is a higher justice than the rule of law, monsieur!

Hercule Poirot:
Then you let *God* administer it... not *you*!

Greta Ohlsson:
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."

Hercule Poirot:
Oui!

Greta Ohlsson:
Well, we were without sin, monsieur! *I* was without sin!

Mary Debenham:
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.

Hercule Poirot:
[harshly] And so do you!

Mary Debenham:
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.

Hercule Poirot:
[coldly] And are you?

Mary Debenham:
[long pause, then] But I did what was right.

Lieutenant Blanchflower:
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.

Hercule Poirot:
[turns to face him] Unjust?

Lieutenant Blanchflower:
He made an error of judgement. He was a good man.

Hercule Poirot:
It did not have to end in suicide.

Lieutenant Blanchflower:
I think he believed he had no choice.

Hercule Poirot:
A man like your friend, Lieutenant, always has choice, and it was his choice to lie that brought him into difficulty with the law.

[He turns away]

Hercule Poirot:
[to Ratchett] I do not play poker with you, monsieur.

Hercule Poirot:
[to Mary Debenham, who has refused to ansswer his question claiming she is "not at liberty" to do so] At 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!

Xavier Bouc:
Steady on, Poirot!

Mary Debenham:
I am not at liberty to tell you! [she starts to get up and leave]

Hercule Poirot:
Mademoiselle, do not cross me!

John Arbuthnot:
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!

Hercule Poirot:
I see. Twelve good men and true?

John Arbuthnot:
The civilized way.

Mary Debenham:
You know nothing, monsieur! You don't touch her!

Hercule Poirot:
[softly] Shall I tell you what I know? Huh, Mademoiselle Debenham, shall I?

Hector MacQueen:
[talking about his father] Casseti's connections threatened to kill me - his son - if he didn't do what they asked! Wha... what was he supposed to do?

Hercule Poirot:
He was supposed to have ensured that justice was done in an open court, monsieur.

Hercule Poirot:
Then the whole business with this train... the berth bought for a "Mr. Harris"... so no outsider boarded... the red kimono... the watch... All but a farce, was it not, Linda Arden, to make a mockery of Poirot?

Caroline Hubbard:
You were our first piece of of bad luck.

Hercule Poirot:
[Concerning Ratchett] Was he, in your opinion, a gentleman?

Edward Masterman:
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.

Caroline Hubbard:
What is it with these men who go around falling in love with the staff?

Greta Ohlsson:
Some crimes God does not forgive!

Samuel Ratchett:
I'm a rich man, Mr. Poirot; I have enemies.

Xavier Bouc:
[to Poirot] Porot, we are in Yugoslavia. Hmmnn? This is not a good place to have a problem! This is the backside of Europe! This is the Wild West!

[first lines]

Hercule Poirot:
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 one 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 the lieutenant lied about his whereabouts, first out of panic and then, by sticking to this *lie*, but reinforcing it with *lie* after *lie* for weeks and weeks of deception, he has heaped suspicion and a 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.

Hector MacQueen:
I met Mr Ratchett when I was on my uppers in, um... 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.

Hercule Poirot:
And he could not speak the languages?

Hector MacQueen:
Not a word. A little pidgin Italian, which even Italian pigeons would have found hard to understand.

Julia Olivera:
I've never heard of a dentist committing suicide before. Wouldn't happen in the States, you can be sure of that; they're too damn rich to kill themselves!

Blunt:
You're an odd man, Monsieur Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
Oh, yes, I am. Very odd. That is to say, I am methodical, orderly, and logical, and I do not like to distort facts to support a theory.

Hercule Poirot:
Mr. Blunt, you talk of the continued peace of this nation, hein. Oh, yes, that is right, but Poirot is not concerned with nations. Poirot is concerned with private individuals, who have the right not to have taken from them their lives.

[last lines]

Chief Inspector James Japp:
It's the little chaps that keep things on an even keel - chaps like you and me.

Hercule Poirot:
Ah, but there are no "little chaps", Chief Inspector. Particularly not Poirot.

Julia Olivera:
The truth is often wicked.

Hercule Poirot:
[after an Australian emigre has cornered Poirot into looking ay 500 pictures of his homeland] The man who invented the camera has a lot to answer for!

Hercule Poirot:
I am the dog who stays on a scent, Commander, and does not leave it.

Hercule Poirot:
May I be impertinent, Madame?

Frederica Rice:
Is there such a thing these days?

Hercule Poirot:
[he smiles] You care for Monsieur Lazarus?

Frederica Rice:
He's rich.

Hercule Poirot:
Oo-la-la! That is an ugly thing to say.

Frederica Rice:
[smiling] Better to say it myself than have you say it for me.

Hercule Poirot:
You are very intelligent, madame.

Frederica Rice:
You'll be giving me a diploma next!

Hercule Poirot:
I cannot eat these eggs. They are of totally different sizes.

[first lines]

Captain Hastings:
Looks just like a patchwork quilt, doesn't it?

Hercule Poirot:
[eyes closed tight, clutching armrest] No!

Captain Hastings:
Well, it does to me. Does to everybody else.

Hercule Poirot:
Not to Poirot!

Captain Hastings:
Oh, I suppose you don't think that looks like a great mass of cotton wool.

Hercule Poirot:
No!

Captain Hastings:
I don't think you've got *any* imagination at all, Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
[opens his eyes] That is true, mon ami. But fortunately you have enough for both of us; it is extremely valuable to me.

[last lines]

Hercule Poirot:
It is satisfying, is it not, Chief Inspector, in a case, when at last one knows everything.

Chief Inspector Japp:
I thought you knew everything anyway, Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
Well...

[Miss Lemon and Hastings arrive carrying ice cream cones]

Hercule Poirot:
Ah.

Miss Lemon:
There's one for you, Chief Inspector.

Chief Inspector Japp:
Ah, thank you.

Miss Lemon:
None for Mister Poirot because I read an article on the train how ice cream was extremely bad for the little grey cells.

Captain Hastings:
And two for me because mine are dead already.

[Japp laughs]

Hercule Poirot:
They are very amusing, are they not, Chief Inspector? The sea air obviously agrees with them. I think perhaps, when I return to London, I shall leave them here.

[Japp laughs, and Hastings hands one of his cones to Poirot]

Hercule Poirot:
Thank you. Sant?!

Hercule Poirot:
Ah, c'est magnifique. Just the place for a restful vacation. The food will be inedible.

Hercule Poirot:
You do know who I am?

Nick Buckley:
No. I don't.

Hercule Poirot:
I forget; you are but a child. Alors, my friend here, Captain Hastings, he will tell it to you.

Captain Hastings:
Well, um, Monsieur Poirot is a detective.

Nick Buckley:
Oh.

Captain Hastings:
[Poirot just looks at Hastings] Um, uh, a great detective.

Hercule Poirot:
My friend, is that all you can find to say? Mais dis donc, say then to Mademoiselle that I am the detective unique, unsurpassed, the greatest that ever lived.

Captain Hastings:
Well, doesn't seem much point now; you've told her yourself.

Hercule Poirot:
Ah yes, but it is more agreeable to preserve the modesty.

[first lines]

Captain Hastings:
The whole art of clay pigeon shooting lies in the timing. Trick is, when I say "Pull"...

[Pamela pulls the release]

Captain Hastings:
No. [He shoots twice] Sorry. My fault, should have warned you there.

Pamela Cregan:
Weren't you ready?

Captain Hastings:
No no, it's all right.

[last lines]

Ellie Henderson:
It was a cruel, dirty trick you played, Monsieur Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
I do not approve of murder. Mademoiselle.

Captain Fowler:
Well, what do you say, Mister Poirot?

Hercule Poirot:
One cannot hurry the little grey cells, Captain.

Hercule Poirot:
Your vitality is formidable, dear lady.

Mrs Clapperton:
"You're so alive, Adeline," they say to me. But really, Monsieur Poirot, what would one be if one wasn't alive?

Hercule Poirot:
Dead, Madame.

Mrs Clapperton:
What was your name again?

Mrs Tolliver:
Tolliver. Uh, Mrs Tolliver.

Mr Tolliver:
And I'm her husband. Mr Tolliver.

Mrs Clapperton:
What a clever arrangement.

Hercule Poirot:
Mesdames, Messieurs. What I am about to do may surprise you a little. It may occur to you that I am eccentric - perhaps mad. Ah! You may say, the little Belgian detective is taking leave of his rocker, hein. But I can assure you, behind my madness is, as you English say... method.

Mrs Clapperton:
[while shuffling the cards; to Mr. and Mrs. Tolliver] Did you ever got down on your knees and thanked God you didn't have children?

Mr Tolliver:
[happily putting an arm around his wife] Actually, we did.

Mrs Tolliver:
[smiling] two of them. A little boy and a little girl.

Mrs Clapperton:
[extremely unimpressed] Oh, for Heaven's sake! Get ON and *DEAL*!

Hercule Poirot:
Monsieurs, Madames. What I am about to do might surprise you a little. You'll probably think of me as eccentric-perhaps mad. You might say, "the little Belgian is taking leave from his rocker", huh? But I must assure you, that behind my madness is, what you English say... method.

[Poirot lifts the cover of the hidden object on the table; revealing a small, simple, leather suitcase]

Hercule Poirot:
[sotto voce] Voila! A suitcase!

[slightly sarcastic]

Hercule Poirot:
How interesting!

[normal]

Hercule Poirot:
Of course, nothing's interesting about suitcases. [chuckles] But you may know that suitcases... have contents.

[Poirot opens the suitcase very slowly but full of anticipation; the audience of the passengers watch in expectation. Poirot opens the lid, gasps slightly and slowly lifts up the object in the suitcase... which is revealed to be a cute, porcelain doll]

Mrs Tolliver:
[smiling; recognizing] Why... It's a doll!

Hercule Poirot:
Ah! Yes, a doll. Now, this doll... is an important witness to the truth of the death of Madame Clapperton. [pause] But how does it know? It is a doll. But THIS is a doll...

[sotto voce]

Hercule Poirot:
...That can speak!

[Poirot makes the doll turn towards him, so that their faces are parallel from one another and their noses are two inches apart; the passengers look at him as if he had lost his mind, slightly disturbed]

Hercule Poirot:
[he senses the passengers disbelief and quickly turns to them; rapid fire speech] You never seen dolls that could speak?

[normal voice]

Hercule Poirot:
Of course, you have!

Hercule Poirot:
[as he slowly and gently puts the doll back in the suitcase] All we need to do is to put the doll back into the suitcase, where she cannot be seen... She doesn't want to be seen; this little lady.

[to the concealed doll in the suitcase]

Hercule Poirot:
Can you hear me, mon poup?e?

Ismene:
[as the doll's voice] Aye!

Hercule Poirot:
[speaking loudly yet slowly] Now, Can you tell us... about the death... of Madame Clapperton?

Ismene:
[imitating Madame Clapperton] What is it, John? The Door's locked... I don't want to be disturbed by the stewards.

Colonel John Clapperton:
[he begins to twitch his eyes and hyperventilate; he glares at Poirot, who glares at him back sternly; revealing the Col. Clapperton is the murderer] You! [He bolts forward]

Captain Hastings:
[as he and Bates stop the enraged Col. Clapperton from reaching Poirot] Stop him!

Colonel John Clapperton:
[after being restrained; he glares at the stern Poirot; finally caught; snarling with hatred] YES.

Ismene:
[after Poirot captured the murderer; she comes out of her hiding place; revealing that she is the doll's "voice"] Did I do everything right, Mr. Poirot?

Hercule Poirot:
[satified] Oh, yes...

[Poirot opens the suitcase; brings out the doll and hands it back to it's rightful owner; Ismene]

Hercule Poirot:
Mon poup?e

[Ismene smiles at Hercule Poirot as she hugs her doll]

[repeated line]

1st Hawker:
[in a thick Arabian accent] Miss? Miss? Miss?

[Kitty Mooney is lying prostrate on her bed, crying. Pamela is trying to comfort her friend, but to now avail]

Pamela Cregan:
[patting Kitty's shoulder soothingly] It's all right, Kitty.

[a knock on the door]

Pamela Cregan:
Who is it?

Hercule Poirot:
It is I, Hercule Poirot

[Kitty makes a small burst of crying]

Pamela Cregan:
It's all right, Kitty...

[Pamela walks toward the door and opens it]

Hercule Poirot:
Hello, Mademoiselle Cregan. May I come in, please? I have a question to ask you.

Pamela Cregan:
Oh yes, do come in but... you see...

Hercule Poirot:
I just have one question.

Pamela Cregan:
I know, but... it's just that Kitty is making such a blessed racket.

Hercule Poirot:
Oh dear, dear...

Pamela Cregan:
[as Kitty sniffles and cries softy in the background] Well, she blames herself, you see... and me?

Hercule Poirot:
[genuinely surprised] But how could she blame herself?

Pamela Cregan:
Well, we did say terrible things about her.

Hercule Poirot:
Mademoiselle, if anyone didn't say such things about Madame Clapperton, this boat would be dangerous for shipping.

Pamela Cregan:
[smiles; pats Kitty genty] There... It's all right, Kitty. see?

Kitty Mooney:
[Kitty lets out a prolonged sob]

Hercule Poirot:
[genuinely compassionate] Oh...

Captain Hastings:
[upon seeing Skinner selling Mrs. Clipperton's jewelry to several Arabs at a red-light market place] Oh no, you don't!

[Hastings rushes over and tackles Skinner; he then forces Skinner to let go of whatever he is holding]

Captain Hastings:
I would like to ask you a few questions, if I'm very much mistaken.

[the object Skinner is holding falls out of his palm, revealing to be Mrs. Clapperton's headband]

Hercule Poirot:
I am, as you say, bored to the tears.

Nurse Hopkins:
As I said before, Mr. Poirot, let the dead rest in peace.

Hercule Poirot:
Not when one has to consider the living.

Hercule Poirot:
Mademoiselle Carlisle, wanting a death is not a crime.

Hercule Poirot:
If God should withhold His mercy from anyone on Earth, Monsieur, it surely will be you.

Hercule Poirot:
Do you know that the priest, when he is buried, he is always facing his parishoners? Oui. Because when the Day of Judgment, it comes, and the dead, they all arise, he can greet them, and lead them through the Gates of Paradise. Tis a beautiful idea.

Rosaleen:
He shan't be leading me.

Hercule Poirot:
You must not say that, ma chere. Despair is a sin.

Rosaleen:
I'm cut off from the mercy of God.

Hercule Poirot:
No. No one is cut off from the mercy of God... ever.

Adela Marchmont:
What marvelous square furniture, Monsieur!

Hercule Poirot:
Not a curve in the place, Madame.

Rosaleen:
I'm just a simple farm girl; I never wanted any of this. Holy Mother and all the saints, sir, but I'm a wicked b*tch!

Hercule Poirot:
This woman in the scarf, Madame: she was up the stairs or down?

Mrs. Leadbetter:
She was scuttling down, having leeched the vital juices from your customer in number three.

Hercule Poirot:
Poirot, he sees things, Madame. It is a habit he cannot change.

Hercule Poirot:
Two deaths. But neither of them were acts of murder. But today, Mes Amis, Poirot shall produce a murderer of whose viciousness he stands in awe.

Hercule Poirot:
There was no accident of gas in Munn Street. No no no. A letter received today from Scotland Yard contained the expert forensic evidence confirming my suspicions. There was only the premeditated explosion of a bomb! A device built and operated by you, David Hunter! Engineer and road builder! How depraved! God, how evil does a man have to be to cause the slaughter of so many innocent people? For the concealment of a single murder? If God should withhold his mercy from anyone on earth, Monsieur, it surely will be you.

Hercule Poirot:
But the lady presently watching you from over there, she is not your sister.

Dr Lionel Cloade:
Good heavens!

Hercule Poirot:
No. Her name is Eileen Corrigan, a simple farm girl, as she defined herself to me at the church. And, whatever the papers may say, she did not die in Mayfair two years ago. No. But the real Rosaleen Cloade; she did. WHY? Because you murdered her! More than any Cloade, you hated Rosaleen. For in her happy marriage to Gordon Cloade, she had excluded you; your first love; your little sister had surrendered herself to another man. But you had already made your own arrangements to deal with her, for you had drawn under your spell a parlour maid, who was young, Irish, and in the service of your sister. Her name? Eileen Corrigan. You had seduced her. Had deliberately impregnated her. And had had the baby disposed of.

David Hunter:
Not true.

Hercule Poirot:
True! Outside of the church, Eileen Corrigan told me that she had been cut off from the mercy of God!

David Hunter:
She miscarried...

Hercule Poirot:
No, Monsieur! She endured abortion! As it was always your intention that she should. You wanted to crush the very soul of this simple Catholic girl. To make her so terrified by the state of her own life that she would deliver it to you. Maintained by morphine, ruled by terror; Eileen Corrigan would do whatever you told her to do. Why? WHY? Because you, Monsieur, offered her salvation if she did. And... the fires of hell if she did not.

Lynn Marchmont:
"You're very lucky," my family says. And I say to them, "Goodbye."

[last lines]

Lynn Marchmont:
Write to me, M. Poirot. I like your letters.

Captain Hastings:
So how have you been these last six months? Busy?

Hercule Poirot:
No, the little grey cells, I fear, they grow the rust.

Donald Fraser:
Look at this room, Poirot - all that's left of a life -a couple of broken china ornaments, a photograph, a new pair of stockings...

Hercule Poirot:
Hastings, let us not become sentimental.

Chief Inspector Japp:
Does a madman have any motive?

Hercule Poirot:
Ah, Hastings, you are full of the charitable feelings for the young ladies who are beautiful, hmmm? As for me, I am always full of the charitable feelings to the old ladies that have the maladies.

Donald Fraser:
Who are you anyway? You don't belong to the police.

Hercule Poirot:
No, Monsieur, I am better than the police.

Hercule Poirot:
Crime is revealing.

Hercule Poirot:
Remember, Monsieur Fraser, our weapon is our knowledge, but it may be a knowledge we do not know we possess.

[first lines]

Announcer:
Train now boarding.

Chief Inspector Japp:
I don't suppose it means anything but an old woman who kept a tobacco and newspaper shop in Andover was battered to death last night.

Hercule Poirot:
Which of us one time or another have not felt aggrieved by a shopkeeper.

Captain Hastings:
Good Lord! Yes.

Captain Hastings:
Good Lord!

Hercule Poirot:
What is it?

Captain Hastings:
It's another one. Another ABC Murder letter.

[repeated line]

Captain Hastings:
Good Lord!

Donald Fraser:
Mr. Poirot, do you know anything about dreams?

Hercule Poirot:
I do. You have been dreaming?

Donald Fraser:
I keep dreaming the same dream.

Thora Grey:
What a fool I was! I let you all down. I never really looked at him.

Captain Hastings:
You mean it wasn't true?

Hercule Poirot:
Not in the least, mon ami.

Captain Hastings:
Good Lord!

[last lines]

Captain Hastings:
[to Mr. Cust] Just down below the rapids was a native canoe, obviously in some kind of trouble. And I suddenly realised that they were being pursued by something rather horrid.

Mrs. Marbury:
Terrible the news nowadays, isn't it? Nothing but this murder business. It gives me the creeps, I don't read it.

Alexander Bonaparte Cust:
When I undertake to do a thing, I follow it through.

Mrs. Marbury:
Oh well, if you say so Mr. Cust.

Man in Library:
Nasty business, ey?

Alexander Bonaparte Cust:
Yes, very.

Man in Library:
You never know with lunatics, do you? They never look balmy. Sometimes they can look just like you and me.

Alexander Bonaparte Cust:
Yes, I suppose they can.

Usher:
It's an ABC.

Miss Lemon:
It's nearly complete, you see. My system.

Hercule Poirot:
Ah.

Miss Lemon:
Every one of your cases classified and cross-referenced five different ways.

Hercule Poirot:
Five?

Miss Lemon:
Oh, yes. In this cabinet, names of witnesses; in this, name of perpetrator, if known. Victim's trade or profession. Type of case: abduction, addiction, adultery - see also under marriage, bigamy - see also under marriage, bombs.

Hercule Poirot:
See also under marriage?

Chief Inspector Japp:
As you so rightly point out, you are paying me to exercise my judgement and discretion as to what is a serious threat to public order and what is not, and this is not.

Marcus Waverly:
Your superior shall hear of this.

Chief Inspector Japp:
I hope he enjoys it as much as I have.

[last lines]

Hercule Poirot:
I shall see you in London.

Captain Hastings:
Why won't you let me drive you?

Hercule Poirot:
Hastings, the train has one advantage over the car. It does not often run out of coal.

[first lines]

Jessie Withers:
Come on, you have a go.

Hercule Poirot:
Prevention of crime is not what policemen are best at. They will need to have one constable for every citizen and go everywhere with him. But fortunately for the human race, most of us have our own little policeman up here. [taps his head]

[getting into Hastings' car]

Hercule Poirot:
Not too fast, mind.

Captain Hastings:
Don't worry, I won't go over 80.

Hercule Poirot:
Kilometers?

Captain Hastings:
Miles.

Marcus Waverly:
[seeing Poirot is leaving] But you haven't found my son yet!

Hercule Poirot:
I will give you the address of where he is being held. [hands Mr Waverly a piece of paper]

Marcus Waverly:
[looks at the paper] It's blank! [Poirot turns and looks at Mr Waverly]

Hercule Poirot:
That is because I am waiting for you to write the address on it. You will take Captain Hastings and me to the boy, now. If you do not, Madame Waverly will be informed of the series of events that made up this dastardly crime.

Hercule Poirot:
I am sure you will find a way to explain this whole affair. Otherwise, I would not be so willing to give you a second chance.

Marcus Waverly:
Yes. I'll do anything to avoid a scandal.

Hercule Poirot:
Precisely. Honor is everything, eh?

Hercule Poirot:
Some cases are simple and some are tr?s compliqu? but all are of interest because all, you understand, rest solely on the character of the participant.

Chief Inspector Japp:
If there was to be any rough stuff, I don't know as Mr. Poirot'd be the first person I'd think of. Brainwork, yes. Rough stuff, dubious.

[Hastings is teaching Poirot a song while driving back to the Waverly Estate]

Captain Hastings:
[singing] Two men went to mow/ went to mow a meadow!

Hercule Poirot:
[following along; singing] Two men went to mow/ went to mow a meadow!

Captain Hastings:
Two men, one man and his dog went to mow/ went to mow a meadow!

Hercule Poirot:
Two men, one man and his dog went to mow/ went to mow a meadow!

[Hastings' car has broke down in the middle of the countryside; Hastings is on his hands and knees, trying to fix the car and figure out what was going on; all the while, Poirot is getting impatient and frustrated]

Hercule Poirot:
This is not what I want to hear, Hastings.

Captain Hastings:
Eh?

Hercule Poirot:
[curtly] I want to hear *WHAT is WAS*, NOT what is was NOT!

[pause; Poirot glares at Hastings]

Hercule Poirot:
[indignant] And Better Still, I Want To Hear The MOTOR!

[Hastings is teaching Poirot a song while driving back to the Waverly Estate]

Captain Hastings:
[singing] Two men went to mow/ went to mow a meadow!

Hercule Poirot:
[following along; singing] Two men went to mow/ went to mow a meadow!

Captain Hastings:
Two men, one man and his dog went to mow/ went to mow a meadow!

Hercule Poirot:
Two men, one man and his dog went to mow/ went to mow a meadow!

Captain Hastings:
[speaking; laughing] Good!

Captain Hastings, Hercule Poirot:
[singing together] Three men, two men, one man and his dog went to mow/ went to mow a meadow!

Miss Felicity Lemon:
Anyone who claims to have been stag-hunting in the Bois de Boulogne, Mister Poirot, has been seriously misinformed about life on the Continent!

Chief Inspector Japp:
May I introduce Hercule Poirot, the private detective, and his associate Captain Hastings.

Hercule Poirot:
The American crime buster, hm?

FBI Agent Burt:
Japp, I hope you're not so short of manpower you're hiring a shamus. What are they good for... chasing lost dogs. This is a matter of international security we're dealing with here.

Chief Inspector Japp:
I have no intention of hiring anyone, Burt. And if you must know Mr. Poirot here has an outstanding reputation.

FBI Agent Burt:
Oh... a gumshoe... of distinction. And I suppose Al Capone's running for president.

Hercule Poirot:
[Referring to suspect Carla Romero whose flat the FBI and Scotland Yard have staked out] Monsieur Burt, I understand that she has had some dealings with the Mafia.

FBI Agent Burt:
When will you guys understand, there is no such thing as the "Mafia" or the "Black Hand" or the "Cosa Nostra." Sure there's some immigrant families of mainly Southern European extraction who push each other around, but organized crime, *no sir*!

Hercule Poirot:
You see, Agent Burt. Sometimes a lost dog can be found in a place so conspicuous it is the last to be considered.

Hercule Poirot:
[questioning Carla Romero] And there could never be a position for a woman of your ingenuity in the Ma...

[Poirot stops short of saying "Mafia," realizing that Agent Burt is present]

Hercule Poirot:
Pardon. In the Brotherhood.

FBI Agent Burt:
"Brotherhood." Look, the FBI is unequivocal in this matter. There is no such thing as the goddamn Brotherhood!

[first lines]

Captain Hastings:
It's all over, Poirot. You can open your eyes now.

Hercule Poirot:
[opening his eyes] Hastings, this is the last time.

[Mr. and Mrs. Robinson commiserate with Poirot, Hastings and Japp over the break-in to their flat, unaware that Hastings and Poirot were the culprits, who broke in to protect them from an assassin]

Captain Hastings:
I say!

[Hastings picks up a burglary tool left behind]

Captain Hastings:
Look at this! Now there's a real professional's tool if ever I saw one.

Chief Inspector Japp:
[taking tool from Hastings and examining it closely] Hm, and very careless to leave it behind, if you ask me. Perhaps I should have it checked for fingerprints.

Hercule Poirot:
[takes tool from Japp] You will find nothing, Chief Inspector. For the real professional...

Hercule Poirot:
[smiling, holds up tool with gloved hand]... he wears the gloves.

[last lines]

Hercule Poirot:
"Pay to Hercule Poirot the sum of one guinea only. Ernest Todd." It is to me, Hastings, a little reminder never to despise the trivial, hein, but the undignified. A disappearing domestic at one end, a cold-blooded murder at the other.

[first lines]

Captain Hastings:
Husband put head in gas oven; home life happy.

Hercule Poirot:
No.

Captain Hastings:
Belgravia and Overseas Bank clerk absconds with fortune.

Hercule Poirot:
How much is this fortune?

Captain Hastings:
Uh... ninety thousand pounds.

Hercule Poirot:
No.

Captain Hastings:
That's a king's ransom, Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
When it is used to ransom a king, it becomes interesting to Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
Look at it, Hastings. Not a building in sight. Not a restaurant, not a theatre, not an art gallery. A wasteland.

Captain Hastings:
I thought you liked the country.

Hercule Poirot:
But this is not the country, my friend. The country is full of trees, and flowers... and public houses. This is a desert.

Captain Hastings:
Look at that, Poirot. Look at that view!

Hercule Poirot:
Yes, well, views are very nice, Hastings. But they should be painted for us, so that we may study them in the warmth and comfort of our own home. That is why we pay the artist, for exposing himself to these conditions on our behalf.

Captain Hastings:
What do you mean, conditions? It's a wonderful day. [takes a deep breath] Just fill your lungs with that air.

Hercule Poirot:
No, my poor friend, this sort of air is intended for birds and little furry things. The lungs of Hercule Poirot demand something more substantial: the good air of the town!

Hercule Poirot:
[On the train, looking out at the beautiful landscape] Look at it, Hastings. Not a building in sight. Not a restaurant, not a theatre, not an art gallery. A wasteland!

Captain Hastings:
I thought you liked the country?

Hercule Poirot:
But this is not the country, my friend. The country is full of trees. And flowers! And public houses! This is a desert!

Captain Hastings:
[On the moor, walking in puddles besides the sheep] Look at that, Poirot! Look at that view!

Hercule Poirot:
Yes, views are very nice, Hastings. But they should be painted for us, so that we may study them in the warmth and comfort of our own homes. That is why we pay the artist, for exposing himself to these conditions on our behalf.

Captain Hastings:
What do you mean, conditions? It's a wonderful day! Just fill your lungs with that air!

Hercule Poirot:
No, my poor friend. This sort of air is intended for birds and little furry things! The lungs of Hercule Poirot demands something more substantial! The good air of the town!

Police Constable:
Who are you?

Hercule Poirot:
I am Hercule Poirot. Who are you?

Police Constable:
[Calling over his shoulder] Sarge? There's some French gent at the door.

Hercule Poirot:
No no no, I am not some French gent, I am some *Belgian* gent.

Police Sergeant:
Well well well, if it isn't Mr Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
It is. Is the lady of the house in?

Police Sergeant:
The chief inspector's here.

Mrs. Ernestine Todd:
[from the window] Mr Poirot!

Hercule Poirot:
Ah! Mrs Todd, good morn...

Mrs. Ernestine Todd:
I don't know how you have the impertance to show your face here again.

Hercule Poirot:
But Mrs Todd...

Mrs. Ernestine Todd:
You were paid off, Mr Poirot, you were paid off handsomely.

Hercule Poirot:
Well...

Mrs. Ernestine Todd:
And now, look at this, you've got policemen crawling all over the house!

Chief Inspector Japp:
You're not too popular in Clapham this morning, Poirot. Bit of a wild goose chase, this. As far as we can ascertain, this Mr Simpson of yours is a perfectly respectable young bank employee, who happens to have gone home to his family. We have the Shropshire Constabulary checking that at the moment.

Hercule Poirot:
I only wanted to ask...

Mrs. Ernestine Todd:
No!

Hercule Poirot:
Well, perhaps you'd be interested to know...

Mrs. Ernestine Todd:
No, I wouldn't! Good day, Mr Poirot! [Shuts the window. Poirot starts to say something]

Chief Inspector Japp:
Poirot. [Shuts the door in Poirot's face]

Hercule Poirot:
[after reading an outrageous letter from Mr. Todd, stating that Mrs. Todd will not let Poirot gather more information about the disappearance of Eliza Dunn; enraged] WHAT? WHAT? HOW DARE SHE?

[Hercule Poirot has read an outrageous letter from the Todds, and is extremely furious]

Hercule Poirot:
[shouts] *WHAT?*

[pause]

Hercule Poirot:
WHAT? HOW DOES SHE DARE?

[He slams the letter on his desk, much to the concern of Miss. Lemon and Hastings]

Captain Hastings:
What is it?

Hercule Poirot:
[seething] As a favor... As a great favor, I agreed to investigate this two-penny, HALF-PENNY AFFAIR!

Captain Hastings:
What is it, old chap?

Hercule Poirot:
[pointing furiously at the letter on his desk] READ IT! Read it!

[Hastings picks up the letter, Miss. Lemon looking over his shoulder. Point, meanwhile stands a distance from them, still fuming over the contents of the letter]

Captain Hastings:
[reading the letter] "Mr. Todd regrets that, after all, his wife will not avail herself of Mr. Poirot's services...

Hercule Poirot:
[high-pitched and curt] Ahm!

Captain Hastings:
"... After talking the matter over with me, she sees that it is foolish to call in a detective about a purely domestic affair..."

Hercule Poirot:
[high-pitched, angry agreement grunt] Yep!

Captain Hastings:
"... Mr. Todd encloses one guinea for consultation."

Hercule Poirot:
Is this to be believed? huh? Do they think they can get rid of Hercule Poirot like that? HUH?

[shouts]

Hercule Poirot:
*NO.*

[rapid fire speech]

Hercule Poirot:
No, no, no, no, no... No, no,no, no, no... Thirty six times...

[shouts]

Hercule Poirot:
NO! They send me *ONE* guinea, huh? *NO!* I will spend *My OWN* guineas! 3,600 of them, if need be! But *I* will get to the bottom of his matter!

Hercule Poirot:
[Upon hearing about the life of the late Rupert Bleibner] Playing the good golf is no reason not to commit suicide, Hastings.

Captain Hastings:
You just don't understand golf, Poirot.

[first lines]

Newsreader:
[voiceover] The pyramids of Egypt, the last surviving of the seven wonders of the world. The latest expedition by famous archaeologist Sir John Willard may soon reveal more of this ancient world's mysteries with the discovery of the tomb of Egyptian king Men-Her-Ra. No doubt there will be rivalry between Doctor Fosswell of the British Museum and Doctor Schneider of the Metropolitan Museum of New York, but keep it friendly, eh, chaps. The local workers' fear of a death curse laid down on the tomb about three thousand years ago hasn't scared off expedition financier Felix Bleibner. He's been joined for the opening by his nephew Rupert and secretary Nigel Harper, photographing the occasion. Smile, Men-Her-Ra!

[last lines]

Hercule Poirot:
Miss Lemon, in addition to solving this case that has been most difficult, Hastings and I, we have brought you back a little gift from the very tomb of King Men-Her-Ra.

Miss Lemon:
From the tomb?

Hercule Poirot:
Oui. [pulls aside curtain to show cat statuette] Voila. It is the very likeness of the favourite cat of King Men-Her-Ra. Buried with him in his tomb to keep him company on his long journey.

Miss Lemon:
Oh, he's beautiful.

Hercule Poirot:
Go to bed this evening with him in your hand, and Catherine the Great will visit you during the night.

Miss Lemon:
Oh, Mr Poirot, thank you!

[Miss Lemon leaves with the statuette]

Captain Hastings:
I don't know how you can tell her such *guff*, Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
No no no no no, Hastings, it is not a guff. It is as I said at the beginning of this case to Lady Willard: the power of superstition, it is a power that is very great indeed.

Chief Inspector Japp:
Well, well, well. I managed to get here before you this time, Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
No, no, not at all, Chief Inspector, I've just been upstairs interviewing the chef.

Chief Inspector Japp:
[disgusted] Cor blimey!

[last lines]

Hercule Poirot:
Miss Lemon, Edwin has been arrested.

Miss Lemon:
Edwin?

Hercule Poirot:
Yes, M-Monsieur Graves.

Miss Lemon:
Good. It's about time!

Hercule Poirot:
Miss Lemon...

Miss Lemon:
Do you know what he was going to do?

Hercule Poirot:
Non.

Miss Lemon:
He was going to have to move out of Count Foscatini's flat, so he was going to have the Count's cat destroyed. Couldn't be bothered to find a home for it.

[the cat enters, meowing loudly at Poirot]

[first lines]

Chief Inspector Japp:
Anything?

[last lines]

Hercule Poirot:
Now, close your little book and eat your dinner.

Hercule Poirot:
Marie Marvelle is the greatest film star Belgium has ever produced.

Captain Hastings:
I should think she's the *only* film star Belgium's ever produced.

Mrs Mallaby:
I was beginning to suspect Miss Courtnay was having a clandestine affair with Henry Hall. *And* his orchestra.

Hercule Poirot:
[finding powder] Such *foolishness*! Young people must realize that life is not to be *gambled* with like the roulette wheel! This is nothing less than poison.

Chief Inspector Japp:
[tastes] Cocaine.

Hercule Poirot:
And still you protect him. Even though you later discovered that he was implicating you, his own wife, in the crime!

James Ackerley:
That's the joy of radio. The visual appearance is all in the mind. It's amazing what we get away with sometimes.

James Ackerley:
Are you sure I can't persuade you to recount some of your juicier cases on the radio?

Hercule Poirot:
Alas, no. You see murder, a real murder, is not an entertainment. Look at this place: people dance, they laugh. But anywhere there may be evil beneath the mask.

Receptionist:
[reading card] "Hercu-lees Pwoy-rot." I'm afraid the variety auditions are on Tuesdays.

Hercule Poirot:
That is fortunate. I am here on the matter of murder, Madame.

Receptionist:
You're the detective from the newspapers!

Hercule Poirot:
Correct.

Receptionist:
Don't suppose you'll want to miss a second one.

Hercule Poirot:
Because the devil himself dances among us, but we do not see him.

[first lines]

Hercule Poirot:
[voiceover] The Harlequinade, ancestor of the English pantomime. Six characters. Garish, grotesque. First brought to life three centuries ago by the clowns and the actors of the Italian fairgrounds. Today, mere costumed characters at a masked ball. Where now their mystery, their magic, their comedy, their tragedy?

Captain Hastings:
[dressed as the Scarlet Pimpernel] I still don't think they'll let you in; I thought I made it clear the Victory Ball is a costume do.

Hercule Poirot:
Hercule Poirot does not wear costumes.

Captain Hastings:
Everybody does. The whole idea is to go as someone famous.

Hercule Poirot:
Precisely.

Captain Hastings:
Oh. I see.

Mrs Mallaby:
Couldn't they run to a doorman in this place?

Coco Courtney:
We're backward in England, Mrs Mallaby. We still have doorhandles.

Mrs Mallaby:
Oooh, well, pardon me for living.

Chris Davidson:
Look, why don't we all just sit down for a moment and cool off?

Coco Courtney:
Cool off! He's already as cold as an iceberg. With me as the Titanic.

[last lines]

James Ackerley:
I'm honoured that you took up my invitation. I'm sure it was a most enlightening experience for our listeners.

Hercule Poirot:
Thank you.

Receptionist:
Mr Ackerley! They've been trying to find you. The switchboard's been flooded with callers,

Hercule Poirot:
Ah.

Receptionist:
Complaining about the dreadful accent. Lowering the standard of spoken English; all that sort of thing.

James Ackerley:
Oh.

Receptionist:
Sir John Reith's waiting to see you in his office.

James Ackerley:
So sorry. Messieurs.

Chief Inspector Japp:
Don't take it too hard, Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
Indeed no. I am not at all surprised.

Captain Hastings:
You're not?

Hercule Poirot:
No. Chief Inspector, you really ought to look to your elocution.

Chief Inspector Japp:
Swelp me, there's nothing wrong with my lingo.

Hercule Poirot:
You see, that is exactly the kind of expression like "'alf a mo" that brings the language into disrepute. Come, Hastings. I shall lend to the Chief Inspector my personal copy of 'The English as She Should be Spoken'. [exits the building] Taxi!

Captain Arthur Hastings:
[walking in the funeral procession] The man had a lot of friends, Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
What good are many friends, mon ami, when you have one bad enemy?

[first lines]

Paul Deroulard:
Can't you understand! It's our future and Belgium's future that I'm thinking of! The Catholic church has narrowed your mind, Marianne, just as it has my mother's.

Marianne Deroulard:
But don't you see, Paul? You keep asking me to choose between *you* and my *faith*.

Paul Deroulard:
I can't believe what you're saying, Marianne. You mean fresh ideas have no place in your mind? My God, we're into a new century, but you are *stuck* in the last! Just like your damned clergy.

Marianne Deroulard:
Attacking the church won't help Belgium, Paul. It'll turn the people against you!

Paul Deroulard:
I don't attack it! I want it to open its eyes. As my wife, the wife of a government minister, you should support me in that!

Marianne Deroulard:
I married you for *love*, Paul, not to advance your political career! [she runs out]

Paul Deroulard:
Marianne, come back here! Marianne!

Hercule Poirot:
I remember that it was not I who made the mistakes in that case; it was everyone else.

Claude Chantalier:
The old modesty lives on.

Henri:
The young lady I spoke to you about...

Hercule Poirot:
Oui?

Henri:
She's at table five.

Hercule Poirot:
Ah. Merci.

Henri:
She asked for you. Specially.

Hercule Poirot:
By name?

Henri:
By moustache.

[last lines]

Jean-Louis Ferraud:
I would like you to meet my two sons.

Hercule Poirot:
Your two son...

Jean-Louis Ferraud:
This is Henri.

Hercule Poirot:
Henri.

Jean-Louis Ferraud:
And this brave fellow is Hercule.

Hercule Poirot:
Hercule! You are indeed fortunate to have such fine sons. Henri, he has a look of someone, yes? No, perhaps I am wrong. Non, I am right; Hercule also, there is a definite resemblance to someone I know.

Jean-Louis Ferraud:
My wife, perhaps.

Hercule Poirot:
Virginie!

Virginie Mesnard:
Hello, Hercule.

Hercule Poirot:
Bonsoir, Madame Ferraud. I was just saying to Jean-Louis that he was always the most fortunate of men.

[first lines]

Fiona Hanbury:
Good night, Annie.

Annabel Larkin:
Good night, Fee.

Fiona Hanbury:
Oh, Annie, are you going down the Bluebell tonight?

Annabel Larkin:
No, not tonight. Tired.

Fiona Hanbury:
Early night.

Annabel Larkin:
Ah, I wish it was early. See you tomorrow.

Lt. Colin Race:
I know she isn't involved. I know she's a good person who needs our help.

Hercule Poirot:
The world is full of *good* people who do *bad* things, mon ami.

Hercule Poirot:
I do not think it is important *who* he is, but who he *is*.

Lt. Colin Race:
This murder gets more complicated by the minute.

Hercule Poirot:
Mais oui. Which can only mean one thing, mon ami. The solution, it must be very simple.

[last lines]

Lt. Colin Race:
I've only known you a few days, and already it's like we've fallen in love, married, had seven children, divorced, met again under peculiar circumstances, married, had a few more children, divorced.

Sheila Webb:
She must of hated me so much.

Lt. Colin Race:
Shall we start again, Sheila?

Sheila Webb:
Yes, please.

Lt. Colin Race:
Let's start again.

Inspector Hardcastle:
[to Poirot] Any ideas, Mr. Poirot, just pop 'em into the pot.

Hercule Poirot:
[Interrupting] Inspector, may I ask a question?

Inspector Hardcastle:
Of course. Will you be answering it as well?

Inspector Hardcastle:
[Annoyed about the type of questions Poirot is using to interrogate witnesses] What on earth have these got to do with the investigation?

Hercule Poirot:
Probably nothing.

Inspector Hardcastle:
So why ask them?

Hercule Poirot:
To gather information.

Inspector Hardcastle:
What information? Police work is facts, alibis, evidence... not gossip. How did any case get solved in Belgium while you were in charge?

Hercule Poirot:
Through listening... through observation... and every case was solved, I can assure you.

[first lines]

Hercule Poirot:
Are you feeling better, Hastings?

Captain Hastings:
Yes. Yes, I am, as a matter of fact. Takes the pressure off the pancreas, you see.

Hercule Poirot:
Hein, the pancreas is nothing. Of the digestive organs, the liver is the key. Look after the liver and life will take care of itself.

Miss Lemon:
Your tisane, Monsieur Poirot

Hercule Poirot:
Thank you, Miss Lemon. This is what you need, Hastings.

Captain Hastings:
No fear; I've tasted it.

Hercule Poirot:
A doctor who lacks doubt is not a doctor. He's an executioner.

Captain Hastings:
There's Japp. I don't know what you're going to tell him.

Hercule Poirot:
Nothing at all, Hastings. I hate to be the bearer of bad news. He will learn soon enough that his open-and-shut case has the broken hinges.

[last lines]

Chief Inspector Japp:
Confessed?

Policeman:
To the murder. He confessed to that French gent. In writing.

Chief Inspector Japp:
Poirot!

Chief Inspector Japp:
Everyone knows Pengelley did it.

Hercule Poirot:
Everyone does not use the grey cells, I think.

Hercule Poirot:
And please, do not fraternize with that creature. I am still training him.

Captain Hastings:
It's only a parrot.

Hercule Poirot:
I was talking to the parrot.

[first lines]

Maid:
Mr. Davenheim is back, Madam.

Captain Hastings:
I know it's a rather odd question, but a rather odd person would like to know.

[last lines]

Parrot:
Hello.

Hercule Poirot:
Ah well, at least it was worth a try.

Parrot:
Worth a try. Worth a try.

Delivery Man:
Morning, Sir, I've got a parrot for Mr "Poy-rot".

Hercule Poirot:
No no no! Poirot. It is pronounced "Pwa-roe".

Delivery Man:
I beg your pardon, Governor. I've got a "pwa-roe" for Mr "Poy-rot".

Captain Hastings:
It's the only explanation that fits.

Hercule Poirot:
Like the round hole into the square peg.

Countess Vera Rossakoff:
And what of the perfect crime?

Hercule Poirot:
It is an illusion, Countess.

Countess Vera Rossakoff:
So, you are saying the police cannot solve it because they're too English.

Hercule Poirot:
Or because the culprit, he is not English enough.

Hercule Poirot:
One can always tell when the summer, it is arrived.

Captain Hastings:
It's in the air, eh?

Hercule Poirot:
No, Hastings, it is in the speed of your driving!

Captain Hastings:
[referring to marriage] You ever thought about it?

Hercule Poirot:
In my experience, I have known of five cases of women murdered by their devoted husbands.

Captain Hastings:
Yes?

Hercule Poirot:
And twenty-two husbands murdered by their devoted wives. So thank you, non. The marriage, it is not for me.

[first lines]

Receptionist:
Good evening, Countess. It's an honour to have you with us again. Your usual suite is ready.

Hercule Poirot:
When was this last robbery?

Captain Hastings:
Three days ago.

Hercule Poirot:
Three days! But it is too late. It is better to strike while the metal is warm, yes?

Chief Inspector Japp:
So what do you think, Poirot?

Hercule Poirot:
I think that it is strange. The glove and the cigarette case, it is as you might say the double clue.

Captain Hastings:
Twice as much for us to work on.

Hercule Poirot:
It is too much, Hastings, too much.

[last lines]

Hercule Poirot:
You will keep it, I hope. Something to remember me by.

Countess Vera Rossakoff:
Oh... I won't forget you. [kisses his head] Hercule.

Hercule Poirot:
Nor I you... Countess.

Countess Vera Rossakoff:
[as the train pulls away] Au revoir.

Captain Hastings:
Oh, I hadn't thought of that.

Hercule Poirot:
If you are to be Hercule Poirot, you must think of everything.

Hercule Poirot:
I am an imbecile. I see only half of the picture.

Miss Lemon:
I don't even see that.

[first lines]

Newsreel Voice:
British pies are famous the world over, and last year Farley's Foods produced five million of 'em. Everything from steak and kidney to Cornish pasty. But that's not enough for old man Farley; he wants to double the score. Work's been pushing ahead on the new extension to his factory, and this week the great day dawns.

Captain Hastings:
Miss Lemon says he makes pies.

Hercule Poirot:
Makes pies! Hastings, to say that Benedict Farley makes pies is like saying that... Wagner wrote semi-quavers.

Captain Hastings:
Oh, they're good pies, are they?

Hercule Poirot:
No, horrible. But there are a great many of them.

[last lines]

Hercule Poirot:
Hastings, there are two reasons why I should never become the millionaire.

Captain Hastings:
What are they, Poirot?

Hercule Poirot:
The first: that I should never make the detestable pork pies, hein? And the second: I am too understanding towards my employees.

Captain Hastings:
Quite.

Henrietta Savernake:
What happens if you meet a criminal who is cleverer than you are yourself?

Hercule Poirot:
This is not the highest probability, mademoiselle.

Gerda Christow:
I believed in him, as though he were God. I worshipped him. And it was all a lie.

Veronica Cray:
Are you saying you don't love me?

John Christow:
You are a very, very alluring woman, Veronica, but I don't "love you," no.

Veronica Cray:
I came all this way to find you; waiting in this ghastly hovel for the weekend you'd appear. You see, I knew if we could be just once more together... just one more...

John Christow:
You? You planned it?

Veronica Cray:
Oh, you belong to me, John. You're mine.

John Christow:
When I was a young man, I WANTED you to share my life and you wouldn't do it!

Veronica Cray:
Because MY career was so much more important than yours. I mean, anyone can be a "doctor"!

John Christow:
You're a nasty piece of work...

[begins to walk away]

Veronica Cray:
You leave me again and I really will make you sorry!

John Christow:
So be it.

[long pause]

John Christow:
Goodbye.

[walks out]

Veronica Cray:
I hate you more than I thought I could hate anyone!

[throws whisky glass after him]

Henrietta Savernake:
I wish I wasn't so dreadfully fond of you, Edward. It makes it so much harder to go on saying no.

Edward Angkatell:
What you really mean is that you won't marry me becasue of John Christow. Why doesn't the fellow get a divorce?

Henrietta Savernake:
Because!

Edward Angkatell:
That's it, isn't it? If there were no John Christow in the world, you'd marry me...

John Christow:
Would you give it all up, if I asked you to, and come and live with me?

Henrietta Savernake:
No.

John Christow:
No?

Henrietta Savernake:
That's not really what you want.

John Christow:
Couldn't you lie to me just once?

Henrietta Savernake:
Why?

John Christow:
Because I love you, Henrietta, but you're so... you're so detached. Your art, your cars, your friends... I want you to think only of me.

Henrietta Savernake:
Isn't that what Gerda does?

John Christow:
Don't tell me you care a damn about Gerda!

Henrietta Savernake:
Why not? I like Gerda.

John Christow:
[last words before dying] Henrietta...

Henrietta Savernake:
I'm not, Mr. Poirot, terribly truthful.

Hercule Poirot:
No, but I think you have integrity.

Lady Angkatell:
I just don't know what to do about lunch. It seems so heartless to be sitting around a table stuffing oneself as if nothing had happened.

Edward Angkatell:
Don't worry on my account, Lucy.

Lady Angkatell:
[laughs] Bless you, dear Edward. Say what you will, murder is a very awkward thing. It upsets the servants so, puts the whole routine out, and, worst of all, it was duck for lunch, my very very favorite.

Inspector Grange:
You were an eyewitness. You saw everything.

Hercule Poirot:
Mais, I saw... but... the eyes of eyewitnesses are so unreliable. Sometimes the eyes they see what they are meant to see.

Hercule Poirot:
It's a hard thing to kill the one you love, n'est pas?

Gerda Christow:
A very hard thing, I should imagine. I couldn't DO it.

Hercule Poirot:
Go, my child. Your place is with the living. I will remain here with the dead.

[first lines]

Sir George Carrington:
Mayfield.

Tommy Mayfield:
Sir George.

Sir George Carrington:
Show me.

[last lines]

Chief Inspector Japp:
Must be depressing for you when that sort of thing happens, eh, Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
What sort of thing?

Chief Inspector Japp:
Why, everything working out for the best: some married couple ready for a second honeymoon, orphan children reunited with their parents.

Hercule Poirot:
Yes, it is hard, hm. But we must put on it the brave face, huh. And not allow cheerfulness to keep breaking through.

Hercule Poirot:
[laughing] Drive on, Hastings.

Hercule Poirot:
I will take a promenade in the garden before turning in. It will clear my brain.

Lady Carrington:
You might have done that before we played cards.

Sir George Carrington:
Froggy thinks she didn't do it.

Hercule Poirot:
[entering] Froggy *knows* she didn't do it.

Miss Lemon:
This lady keeps telephoning, Mr. Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
Sacr?. What a terrible circumstance.

Miss Lemon:
There's no need to be sarcastic, Mr. Poirot. I was going on to say that I didn't put her through to you, because she wouldn't give her name.

Hercule Poirot:
Ah.

Miss Lemon:
I told her you don't take anonymous phone-calls.

Hercule Poirot:
But I do, Miss Lemon. Sometimes I think anonymous telephone calls are the only ones worth taking.

Miss Lemon:
But how will I know where to file her if I haven't got a name?

Hercule Poirot:
Life first, Ms. Lemon, filing second.

Miss Lemon:
Very well then. [Hastings huffs in amusement] Next time she calls, I'll let her talk to you. And on your own head be it.

Captain Hastings:
You shouldn't tease her, Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
She makes it irresistible.

Hercule Poirot:
Non, non, non! There should not be between the husband and the wife, the sleepy dogs!

[first lines]

Chief Inspector Japp:
No sign of him yet.

[last lines]

Hercule Poirot:
You know, Hastings, the worst kind of fanatic is the quiet, unobtrusive fanatic.

Fingler:
And the worst kind of customer is the customer who can't keep still.

Hercule Poirot:
Monsieur Fingler, this jacket it is too tight.

Fingler:
Oh, it is too tight, is it?

Hercule Poirot:
Yes, I shall scarcely be able to button it up.

Fingler:
Do you know why it is too tight?

Hercule Poirot:
Because you made it too small.

Fingler:
No no no no. Because you have grown too big. This jacket has been made by *last* year's measurements. Now are we having a fitting or what!

Hercule Poirot:
A fitting by all means, Monsieur Fingler.

Hercule Poirot:
Good night, Sir Bernard.

Sir Bernard Dodge:
Where are you going?

Hercule Poirot:
To bed.

Sir Bernard Dodge:
You don't seem to realize, Poirot, this is a national emergency. I do not intend to sleep until the Prime Minister is found!

Hercule Poirot:
I am sure it will make you feel very virtuous, Sir Bernard, but it will not help the Prime Minister! For myself, I need to restore the little grey cells.

[first lines]

Valerie Saintclair:
I'm not sure we should expect to see each other again.

Young Man:
I couldn't bear that. I have to see you again.

Valerie Saintclair:
Please.

Young Man:
God! You're so beautiful.

Valerie Saintclair:
Ahmed... I'm married.

Henry Reedburn:
No! No! No!

Bunny Saunders:
Alright, everybody, cut! Cut!

[last lines]

Hercule Poirot:
My friend, you are barking up the wrong bush. The case of Monsieur Reedburn will remain, I fear, one of that great body of unsolved cases.

Hercule Poirot:
Films are very boring, Hastings, but the actors who are paid to deceive us, now, they are interesting, hein.

Chief Inspector Japp:
Little grey cells are all very nice, Poirot, but it's dogged as does it.

Katrina:
And what are your "requirements", monsieur?

Hercule Poirot:
*Time*, mademoiselle. Time is all that is required by Poirot.

Dr. Lutz:
May I ask you something? Why do you insist on referring to yourself in the third person? It is intensely irritating!

Hercule Poirot:
Because, Doctor Lutz, it helps Poirot achieve a healthy distance from his genius.

Dr. Burton:
What you need, my dear fellow, is another case. Preferably one that puts your life in danger.

Hercule Poirot:
That is your advice most considered, is it?

Dr. Burton:
It's cost you ten guineas, so I suggest you act on it.

Dr. Lutz:
Ha, you French! You make me scream with laughter.

Hercule Poirot:
I am glad, but also Belgian.

[first lines]

Captain Hastings:
Community Chest. You've won second prize in a beauty contest. Collect ten pounds.

Hercule Poirot:
Thank you very much, Hastings. It would appear that skill plays but a little part in this game, hein?

Captain Hastings:
It's all about skill. What to buy and when. Where to put your property.

Hercule Poirot:
The Americans always put the month before the day, Hastings.

Captain Hastings:
Ah!

Hercule Poirot:
Yes, they're very backward people.

[last lines]

Hercule Poirot:
You know, mon ami, about this game you were right all the time. It is the skill that counts in the end.

Hercule Poirot:
Mais non, c'est impossible! How can I be fifty pounds overdrawn? It is a point of principle that I always keep my balance at four hundred and forty-four pounds, four shillings and four pence. A point of principle!

Chief Inspector Japp:
Charles Lester? We tried him twice this morning. He was out.

Hercule Poirot:
Well, it may be of no worth...

Chief Inspector Japp:
Look, be my guest. For the moment, I've got more important fish to fry.

Hercule Poirot:
Well, Hastings, while the Chief Inspector is frying his important fish, let us see what we can catch, eh?

Captain Hastings:
I can assure you, Poirot, you wouldn't be seasick on the Queen Mary. Steady as a rock.

Hercule Poirot:
Hastings, it is twenty years ago that I came to this country in a boat across the channel. And still I am not recovered.

Mr. McNeil:
I'd have you know that in the five years that I have been head of security here, not so much as a paperclip has gone astray.

Hercule Poirot:
Monsieur McNeil, I'm sure if such a thing were to happen, you would be the man ideal for the case.

[first lines]

Mr. Vavasour:
Morning, Mr Shaw.

Mr. Shaw:
Morning, Mr Vavasour.

Mr. Vavasour:
Terrible weather, Mr Shaw.

Mr. Shaw:
Yes, shocking.

Tom Franklin:
But what about the search, Mr Poirot. Your Mr McNeil was pretty insistent.

Hercule Poirot:
I assure you, officer, Mr McNeil does not belong to me.

[last lines]

Hercule Poirot:
You still have the hankering for the glamorous young woman, hein?

Captain Hastings:
No, no no, no, not at all, no. Quite the opposite, in fact. It's just that, well, there she was, as you say, a glamorous young woman, and with a bit of a wig and a few bits of make-up she could transform herself into that dowdy hag of a nurse.

Hercule Poirot:
Yes, it was indeed very well done, Hastings.

Captain Hastings:
But... Well, I mean... If a woman can do that one way, she can do it the other.

Hercule Poirot:
Oh, Hastings.

Captain Hastings:
Well, I mean then where are you?

Hercule Poirot:
At the beginning of wisdom, mon ami. Now, that also is something to celebrate, n'est-ce pas?

Hercule Poirot:
A man may labor and toil to attain a certain kind of leisure in retirement. And then find that, after all, he yearns for the old busy days, and the old occupations he had thought himself so glad to leave. I had already begun to miss the daily toil of my previous employment when, tout ? coup, I was flung back into the midst of the most perversely fascinating work that there is in the world: the study of human nature. A journal came into my possession, in which a murderer had taken the trouble to record for posterity, the thoughts that had accompanied a crime most dastardly. Rarely have I come across such bitterness, such envy and contempt of others, such haughtiness misplaced.

Hercule Poirot:
[reading from the murderer's journal] "Our village, Kings Abbott, is I imagine, very much like any other English village. A chilly medieval church stands at the top of a single street of stone-built cottages. At the bottom of the street, a bridge crosses a stream where the snotty-nosed offspring of the poor perfect the most advanced skill they will ever possess. Although to the casual observer, Kings Abbott is a friendly place, everything is not as it seems. Just scratch the surface, and you will find more jealousies and rivalries than ancient Rome. My little book is about the murder of Roger Ackroyd; the events leading up to it, the subsequent numbskull investigation, and the final revelation to you alone, dear reader, of the guilty party."

Hercule Poirot:
Now I give up on you. You shall torment me no longer. I will KILL you! [throws vegetable marrow from the garden, and it lands near Dr. Sheppard's feet] Sacre - ! My dear doctor, I beg of you a thousand pardons, but these vegetable marrows, they have driven me to the edges of barbarity! Ah, please to forgive me. I am ashamed; I prostrate myself.

Hercule Poirot:
When one retires, one hurls oneself into new pursuits.

Hercule Poirot:
[reading from the murderer's journal] "Our only captain of industry is the vulgarian Mr. Roger Ackroyd. The factory from which Ackroyd's ill-gotten wealth emanates, encapsulates the life we lead here: ferment and turmoil... It is here that he lines his pockets by combining unlikely chemicals to make unnecessary products while befouling the very air we breathe. He likes to think of himself as a scientist."

Caroline Sheppard:
[referring to Dorothy Ferrars' death from an overdose] I've been thinking about Dottie Ferrars.

Dr. Sheppard:
Oh?

Caroline Sheppard:
She must have taken the veronal on purpose. Remorse.

Dr. Sheppard:
[incredulous] Remorse?

Caroline Sheppard:
You never would listen to me last year when I told you how she poisoned that awful husband of hers. This proves it.

Roger Ackroyd:
There is evil in this village, Poirot. Downright evil.

Roger Ackroyd:
Look, I might as well tell you this, Poirot. I've been, well, in love with Dorothy Ferrars for years. She telephoned me yesterday, very upset, wanted to see me. She broke down completely. She told me everything: her hatred of that brute of a husband, her growing feelings for me, and the dreadful means she'd taken to - poison! Murder... cold-blooded murder!

Inspector Davis:
I don't know you, sir. What's your name?

Dr. Sheppard:
This is Hercule Poirot, Inspector. [Inspector looks at the Doctor blankly] The famous detective?

Inspector Davis:
[suspiciously] Oh yes? What are you doing here?

Hercule Poirot:
Monsieur Ackroyd was a friend of mine, Inspector. I was with him earlier this evening.

[Last lines]

Hercule Poirot:
I thought I could escape the wickedness of the city by moving to the country. The fields that are green, the singing of the birds, the faces, smiling and friendly. Huh! The fields that are green are the secret burial places of murders most hideous. The birds sing only briefly before some idiot in tweed shoots them. And the faces all smiling and friendly, what do they conceal?

Hercule Poirot:
Madame Dainty, has it ever occurred to you to organize the goods by the country of origin?

[Poirot has just pulled up in a cab outside and is waving his hands at the driver]

Mary Cavendish:
What on earth is he doing?

Lieutenant Hastings:
I think he's giving the driver a lesson.

[Poirot is building a house of cards]

Lieutenant Hastings:
Is this your first time in London, Poirot?

[Poirot does not answer]

Lieutenant Hastings:
Mrs. Inglethorpe must have been wealthy, with this beautiful house and Styles Court.

[Poirot still does not answer]

Lieutenant Hastings:
Are you going to be doing that all day?

Hercule Poirot:
I steady my nerves, that is all.

Lieutenant Hastings:
[referring to John Cavendish's mother and her marriage to an outsider twenty years her junior] It must be a difficult situation for you all.

John Cavendish:
Difficult? It's damnable.

[Hastings has accepted an invitation to spend his medical leave at his friend John Cavendish's ancestral home]

John Cavendish:
I'm afraid you'll find it very quiet down here, Hastings.

Lieutenant Hastings:
My dear fellow, after the joys of France, that's just what I want.

Hercule Poirot:
[talking to other Belgian refugees about a wildflower] Another example of the English bucolic belief - anagallis arvensis, the scarlet pimpernel. It is believed that when this flower is open, it is a sign of a proplonged spell of fine weather. It is seldom seen open in this country.

Lieutenant Hastings:
[referring to the false beard they have discovered] Who put it there?

Hercule Poirot:
Someone with a great deal of intelligence, Hastings. He chose to hide it in the one place where its presence would not be remarked. But we must be even more intelligent that he does not suspect us of being intelligent at all.

Lieutenant Hastings:
Absolutely.

Hercule Poirot:
And there you will be invaluable, mon ami.

Inspector Japp:
[after Poirot's assertion has been proved correct] My word, Poirot, you're the goods!

Hercule Poirot:
[after finding burned evidence in a fireplace] The fire warms but it also destroys.

Hercule Poirot:
Things are moving quickly, my friend - perhaps too quickly!

Cynthia Murdoch:
[to Hastings] I do hope she's found him out at last. I'm sure he's a fortune hunter.

Lieutenant Hastings:
This is green.

Hercule Poirot:
No, it is too dark.

Lieutenant Hastings:
Good Lord!

Judge:
John Cavendish, you are charged with the murder of your mother, Mrs. Emily Rose Inglethorp on Tuesday nineteenth day of June, 1917. How do you plead?

John Cavendish:
Not guilty.

Mrs. Emily Inglethorp:
I've told you before.

John Cavendish:
It's none of your business.

Mrs. Emily Inglethorp:
It is my business. Not content with carrying on this sordid affair with this woman, I now find you squandering large sums of money on her.

John Cavendish:
It's not a large sum of money. It's a loan, anyway.

Mrs. Emily Inglethorp:
No! No! My mind is made up and you need not think that any fear of scandal between husband and wife will deter me.

Hercule Poirot:
Why? When? There must have been something of great importance in that case, something that would have connected the murder with the crime.

Lieutenant Hastings:
But what?

Hercule Poirot:
That I do not know.

[repeated line]

Lieutenant Hastings:
Good Lord!

[last lines]

Lieutenant Hastings:
What a wonderful girl. I shall never understand women.

Hercule Poirot:
Thought so, yourself mon ami. Perhaps one day when this terrible war is ended, we shall work again together, and Poirot will explain it all to you.

Mary Cavendish:
It's all over now.

Hercule Poirot:
Hastings!

Lieutenant Hastings:
Good Lord! Monsieur Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
It is indeed, mon ami Hastings.

Evelyn Howard:
May I ask what's going on?

Inspector Japp:
You may ask, Madam. If you get any reply you may let me know.

Hercule Poirot:
Superintendent, I beg of you to allow me to ask of Mr. Inglethorp just one question.

Lieutenant Hastings:
So, we're back to square one then.

Hercule Poirot:
Not quite mon ami. We now know there is one person who did not buy the poison. Again, we have cleared away the clues manufactured, and now for the real ones.

Chief Inspector Japp:
[Poirot has a slight cold] How's the cold, Poirot?

Hercule Poirot:
It is *not* a cold! It is a deadly fever!

Harrington Pace:
Fellow asked me the other day, a Bolshie, you know, asked me had I ever actually made anything during my worthless life. "Certainly," I said. "I've made a lot of friends, I've made a lot of enemies, and I've made a lot of money."

Hercule Poirot:
You are leaving? One can leave?

Roger Havering:
Can we not stop this charade, Chief Inspector?

Inspector James Japp:
I don't know, sir; I've always enjoyed party games.

[last lines]

Hercule Poirot:
Is this gratitude, Hastings? Is it for this that Hercule Poirot exerts his talents on behalf of the world?

Chief Inspector Japp:
You expect gratitude? Don't make me laugh. Now you know what a real detective feels like.

Hercule Poirot:
A *real* detective! [Japp smiles and nods] Chief Inspector Japp is truly most amusing, do you not think, Hastings?

Captain Hastings:
Oh, yes, most amusing.

Hercule Poirot:
For a policeman.

[first lines]

Archie Havering:
Billy-old morning, Uncle Harry.

Harrington Pace:
They'll sort you out a loader.

Lady Tamplin:
[Lenox and Corky enter] Ah, here they are at last. Katherine, my daughter Lenox. And this infant is my husband.

Lenox Tamplin:
He's not my father, obviously.

Corky:
Oh, no!

Lenox Tamplin:
That would be the astonishment of science.

Mirelle Milesi:
[after being asked where she was at the time of the crime] I was in bed all night. If you seek corroboration, interrogate my pillow.

Count De La Roche:
You're drunk.

Derek Kettering:
My dear count, to sit gazing at you for any length of time, drunkenness is absolutely mandatory.

Rufus Van Aldin:
[Introducing himself] Mr. Poirot, Rufus Van Aldin. I'm in oil... figuratively speaking.

Inspector Caux:
Coffee! The brain doesn't work without coffee!

Count De La Roche:
[after being punched and knocked down] You could have given me a black eye!

Derek Kettering:
Match your fingernails and your heart!

Hercule Poirot:
...jealousy, as it so often does, throws open the door to murder.

Mirelle Milesi:
[asking Derek to light her cigarette] Ignite me.

Corky:
[upon realizing that Mirselle was the place where the murder had been committed; shocked] Oh God... I goofed.

Hercule Poirot:
No, No, M. Corky.

[Poirot gets into the passenger seat of the car]

Hercule Poirot:
[as he is getting in] You would have goofed... only if you have committed the murder. And I, Hercule Poirot, is not, at the moment...

[he closes to door]

Hercule Poirot:
disposed to believe.

Hercule Poirot:
[to Katharine Gray] Excuse me, Mademoiselle... May I congratulate you on your choice of the Bourgeoise.

[Poirot takes the glass, looks at the opacity of the wine. Finding it crystal clear]

Hercule Poirot:
Oh...

[He smells the wine, tastes it and hands it to the waiter]

Hercule Poirot:
Merci,

[the waiter leaves. Now alone with Katharine Gray, Poirot turns toward her]

Hercule Poirot:
Do please forgive me for this intrusion, it was presumptuous to the extreme.

Katherine:
[watching Lady Tamplin, Lennox and Corky rushing to catch the train] My, how many interesting people there are in Paris!

Hercule Poirot:
Oui, I don't believe we shall be bored.

Lenox Tamplin:
Mummie, I'm bored.

Lady Tamplin:
Of course, you are bored dear. It's your hormones.

Corky:
[snorts with laughter]

Lady Tamplin:
Corky, why don't you go and look for a little friend to play with?

Derek Kettering:
[shouting angrily] You had her alive, You will *Not* have her DEAD!

Count De La Roche:
[genuinely shocked] In what sense, 'dead"?

[Derek advances forward towards him; snarling]

Derek Kettering:
In a sense that someone has *Smashed* her *face* in, with a hammer... You crook!

Ruth Kettering:
I want a divorce!

Derek Kettering:
No, Ruthie... You don't! You DON'T!

Ruth Kettering:
I want a divorce, Derek! And you know what, it scares the hell out of you. Because it means Good bye to the Yankee milch cow, Hello to Poverty!

[dead silence]

Derek Kettering:
[sarcastically] Well, I've never thought of you as a *cow*. But as it turns out...

[He lets the divorce papers she had handed to him, fly out of his hand and onto the floor of her compartment]

Derek Kettering:
[solemnly] It's not enough

Ruth Kettering:
[advancing towards him; viciously] You are in sufferable...

[Derek grabs her by the collar of her robe, She looks at him, innocently scared]

Derek Kettering:
[solemnly] I have never lied to you, Ruthie... Not once.

[Poirot has gotten off the Blue Train in Nice, when suddenly... ]

Lady Tamplin:
[lets out a high-pitched screams of terror]

Hercule Poirot:
[seeing her stumble out of the train, looking as though she has seen a ghost] Lady Tamplin! Are you all right?

Lady Tamplin:
[sounding nauseated] No, no, no, Please! I feel like I'm going to be sick...

[she clutches her stomach and her heart]

Hercule Poirot:
What is the matter?

Lady Tamplin:
Oh My God... It's Katharine...

Hercule Poirot:
[deeply concerned] W-Whatever has happened to Mademoiselle Gray?

Lady Tamplin:
She's... Oh God...

[groaning]

Lady Tamplin:
I should not have looked at all of that... *blood*!

[Poirot's eyes widen in shock, he rushes into the train when he is nearly run over by Lenox]

Lenox Tamplin:
[screaming in horror] Aahhh! AAAAHHH!

[Hercule Poirot looks at the door of Katharine Gray's compartment, Number 3. He pauses, summoning up the courage to open it. He opens it and finds Kathrine Gray, who is also opening the door, walking out alive and well]

Hercule Poirot, Katherine:
Oh!

Katherine:
[pleasantly surprised] Oh, M. Poirot! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to startle you!

Hercule Poirot:
[he heaves a deep sigh of relief]

Katherine:
I'm sorry I'm late and kept you waiting... I was looking for my silly comb.

[Poirot smiles, but then becomes grave as he looks down the isle of the train realizing that the person attacked is in... ]

Hercule Poirot:
Something's happened in Number Seven!

[He dashes off to investigate, Katharine looks on, gravely concerned, realizing that something had gone wrong]

Hercule Poirot:
Firstly, I am not a 'bloody little Frog!' I am a bloody little Belgian!

[last lines]

Hercule Poirot:
I am learning, Hastings. It is more English, yes, the humbleness? So, I am learning. I shall be the most humble person in the world. No one will match Hercule Poirot for his humbility.

Colonel Curtiss:
[commenting on Poirot's presence at a murder scene] I think it's a godsend. I mean, you're a detective.

Hercule Poirot:
I am THE detective, Colonel Curtiss.

Hercule Poirot:
Chief Inspector Japp, I must ask you to trust me as you have never trusted me before.

Chief Inspector Japp:
Here we go.

Chief Inspector Japp:
[to Poirot] I don't know why I bother sometimes. I may as well stay at home and do my garden. Who do you want me to arrest now?

Hercule Poirot:
You think it is wrong, Hastings, to enjoy the compliments, or the 'buttering,' as you say?

Captain Hastings:
No, but, uh, do you have to show it quite so much? Not English.

Hercule Poirot:
Perhaps it is Belgian. Hastings, why should I be the hypocrite, to blush when I am praised, and to say like you, "It is nothing." Hmph! I have the order, the method, and the psychology. There, I admit it. I am the best. I am Hercule Poirot.

Young Officer:
You're not serious. You can't be! It was a joke, that's all. I was joking!

Umpire:
Bitte Sie, klingen.

Young Officer:
We're *English* for God's sake!

Hercule Poirot:
I am not a bloody little Frog! I am a bloody little Belgian!

Lady Chatterton:
I was there when you solved the Chalfont Diamonds case. I was one of the suspects. It was so thrilling, and I have to say, Monsieur Poirot, you were magnificent!

Hercule Poirot:
Yes.

[first lines]

Jane Mason:
Yes, sir?

Rupert Carrington:
Hello, there. You're new, aren't you?

Jane Mason:
Is there someone you wanted to see, sir?

Rupert Carrington:
Well, yes, there was as a matter of fact. I'd rather like a few quick words with my wife.

[last lines]

Hercule Poirot:
From Monsieur Halliday. He says in his letter that he will return to Australia, immerse himself in his work, and try to forget. He has been most excessive in his generosity.

Miss Lemon:
Poor man.

Hercule Poirot:
Tell me, mademoiselle, was it absolutely necessary for a poor wretched woman who had never done to you one moment's harm to die? Was there no other way?

Halliday:
[letter] Dear Mr Poirot: I would like to express my gratitude for your help in this tragic business. Your logical and businesslike approach was something I could cling to in the depths of my despair. I hope, sometime in the future, to be able to find a measure of such quiet strength. Then, perhaps, I can start again. I am returning home, to a memory of happier times. Old friends may help me live with the past.

[first lines]

Prince Farouk:
One of my father's most valued possessions. From the reign of the Pharaoh Pherisees. [Waiter empties Champagne into his glass] Some more.

Waiter:
Yes, Your Highness.

Prince Farouk:
And some coffee for the woman.

Waiter:
Very good, Your Highness.

Prince Farouk:
[as Iris rises] Where're you going?

Iris Moffatt:
Just going to powder my nose; won't be a minute.

Mrs Lacey:
Horace, come and meet Mr Hercule Poirot.

Michael:
Not *the* Hercule Poirot!

Hercule Poirot:
There is but one Hercule Poirot, and I am he.

Michael:
The great detective!

Hercule Poirot:
The same.

Hercule Poirot:
But there is one thing that Poirot does not understand. This note. It was placed in my bed, and still I do not know who wrote it. I, Hercule Poirot, whose business it is to know everything.

[last lines]

Hercule Poirot:
Au revoir, Madame Lacey. Thank you, Monseiur Peverill.

Colonel Lacey, Mrs Lacey, Michael, Colin, Bridget:
Bye-bye.

Jesmond:
I must apologize for the prince, Monsieur Poirot. He is, uh...

Hercule Poirot:
Young? One is never to young to learn the manners!

Jesmond:
Indeed, indeed. Unfortunately, the prince has never seen any reason to do so.

[last lines]

Miss Lemon:
I've got your Friar's Balsam for you.

Hercule Poirot:
My what?

Miss Lemon:
Your inhalant, for your cold.

Hercule Poirot:
Poirot does not have colds, Miss Lemon. It is well known that Poirot scorns all but the gravest afflictions.

Miss Lemon:
But yesterday you were...

Hercule Poirot:
Miss Lemon, yesterday was yesterday. My tisane, if you please.

[first lines]

Removal Man:
You can pour that cup o' tea now, darling. This is the last bit.

Coffee Stall Owner:
Right you are, dear.

[Poirot is sick with the cold. He goes out to post a letter, and is startled by Hastings arriving in his car, honking the horn]

Captain Hastings:
[jovial] How is the cold, old boy?

Hercule Poirot:
And now you try to give me the heart attack? I would not be surprised if riding in that car was responsible for my present malady.

Captain Hastings:
She's much too much of a lady to give anyone a cold. She's running like a bird since I fitted those new gaskets.

Hercule Poirot:
Birds do not run, Hastings. When you were little you should've paid more attention to your lessons in biology.

Captain Hastings:
You're really in a bad way, aren't you?

Hercule Poirot:
[wistfully] Well, my friend... As one approaches the end, one begins to see life as it truly is.

[Hercule Poirot is breathing his Friars Balsam inhalant for his cold; his face covered with a towel. After sneezing three times, he takes the towel off, looking very under the weather, sweaty and exhausted]

Hercule Poirot:
[sotto voce] Ah, Mon Deu! Ah, suffit!

Miss Lemon:
[walking into the room; matter-of-fact] Nah, ah! Mr. Poirot, you only done seven minutes. You'll never cure your cold if you do not follow the instructions.

Hercule Poirot:
[congested] I can't imagine a method so undignified can cure anything, Miss Lemon. And so now I've got the back ache too... Anything in the mail, Miss Lemon?

Miss Lemon:
[setting his tea down on the table] Yes, and there's nothing for you. it's been only three weeks since your last case.

Hercule Poirot:
Three weeks? Three weeks is an eternity for a brain like mine!

[very distressed and melodramatic]

Hercule Poirot:
Without the constant stimulation, my little gray cells will starve and die! Already, you see, I am suffering the effects!

[Poirot begins dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief as he whimpers softly]

Hercule Poirot:
[after a night at the theater watching a mystery play] And the theater has made my cold even worse!

Hercule Poirot:
[Poirot is looking through a trashcan at the crime scene, and he finds something] Ah-HA! I thought so...

[he pulls out the object, revealing to be a small bottle filled with mysterious liquid]

Hercule Poirot:
Voila!

[He sniffs the cork of the bottle]

Hercule Poirot:
[turning to Mr. Donovan Bailey] Pardon, I have a cold. Would you be so kind, Monsieur Donovan?

[Donovan Bailey takes the bottle, smells the cork. Then he opens the lid and smells and passes out after one whiff of the aroma]

Hercule Poirot:
[frantically shouting] No, no,no,no, NO! Why did he take off the lid? That is stupid!

Jimmy:
[Donovan Bailey has crashed into several trash cans, damaging Hastings' car; running towards the damaged car] Oh my God! Donovan!

Hercule Poirot:
Monsieur Bailey! Monsieur Bailey!

Hercule Poirot:
[surveying the unconscious Donovan] Is he badly hurt?

Captain Hastings:
[surveying his damaged car] Oh my GOD!

Patricia Matthews, Mildred:
[singing] Life is just a bowl of cherries/ Life is too mysterious/ you work, you play, you worry so/ But you can't get your dough when you glow, glow, glow, glow...

[Hercule Poirot is getting ready for the theater; he puts on his overcoat, his muffler and his hat. He anticipates a sneeze, reaching for his handkerchief, only to find the sneeze anticipation has gone away. He heaves a sigh of relief. He walks toward the door offscreen, when... ]

Hercule Poirot:
[sneezing] AA-CHOO! [he clicks off the lights]

[Donovan is stumbling through the darkness of a dark, seemingly vacant apartment]

Donovan:
What on earth is Pat piping up to? Everything is the wrong bloody place!

[Jimmy turns on the lights; revealing that they are not in the right apartment]

Donovan:
This isn't Pat's flat.

Jimmy:
[excited whisper] Jeepers!

Donovan:
[reading a letter on the table] Mrs. Ernestine Grant...

[beat]

Donovan:
Oh, Lord! we're in *36B*, not *46B*!

Jimmy:
We better get out here before she finds us!

[someone snoring sounds]

Jimmy, Donovan:
[the two men burst into giggles]

[the two men are about to leave when Jimmy notices something shocking]

Jimmy:
Look!

[Donovan turns to see a pair of a woman's feet sticking out behind the packing cases in the flat]

Donovan:
[genuinely shocked] Good God!

[They walk over and discover Mrs. Ernestine Grant's corpse concealed behind the curtain]

Patricia Matthews, Mildred:
[singing in the background] Life is just a bowl of cherries...

[scene shifts to Hastings and Poirot watching Patricia and Mildred singing on the stairs]

Patricia Matthews, Mildred:
[singing cont] Life's too mysterious, life's too mysterious... You work, you play, you worry so/ But you can't get your dough/ while you glow, glow, glow!

Donovan:
[He and Jimmy walk out of the apartment; looking perturbed] What do we do?

Jimmy:
[pause] I don't know.

Donovan:
[to Patricia and Mildred] Pat, Mildred. Something's happened.

Patricia Matthews:
What is it?

Donovan:
There's a dead woman down here.

Mildred:
[as she and Patricia rush down the stairs; unaware that Poirot is close by; shocked] Oh my God!

Donovan:
[confessing his crime] I wanted a divorce. I begged Ernestine, but she refused. She said she'll never let me free. After I fell in love with Pat, Ernestine started hounding me. Telephone me everyday, held it over me, threatening to tell Pat everything! Drove. Me. Mad.

[pause]

Donovan:
And then, she phoned me to tell me that she moved into the flat beneath Pat's. I couldn't believe it. By then, I knew she was crazy enough to do anything.

Hercule Poirot:
Tell me, what happened yesterday evening?

Donovan:
Ernestine called me in the afternoon...

[Flashback; Donovan exists out of the elevator, looks around and walks towards the 36B flat]

Donovan:
[voiceover] She had written to Pat to arrange to see her; to tell her the truth about us. Normally, I assumed the worst. I knew I had to do something once and for all.

[Donovan rings the doorbell of the flat]

Donovan:
[voiceover cont] I called into her flat around six.

Mrs. Grant:
[opening the door] Oh, it's you! You better come in.

[She lets Donovan in, she walks over to the liquor cabinet]

Mrs. Grant:
[offering Donovan a drink of Sherry] Drink?

Donovan:
[sternly] You have no right to go around hounding Pat.

Mrs. Grant:
[chuckles; as she pours sherry into a shot glass] I'm not hounding her my darling, I just going to tell what a rotten bound you are. Promising to marry her when you're *already* married to *me*.

Donovan:
We were married in Switzerland, Ernestine. If you remember... It doesn't count under the British law.

Mrs. Grant:
[dismissively] So you keep telling me.

Mrs. Grant:
I've decided to test your little theory. I asked my solicitor a copy of our marriage certificate. He's telephoned me to say it is completely valid. And he's mailed me a letter to confirm it.

Donovan:
Show me.

Mrs. Grant:
I haven't received his letter yet, It might arrive in the evening post I expect.

Mrs. Grant:
[she giggles deviously]

Mrs. Grant:
It's going to be all a shock for poor Miss Matthews.

Donovan:
[gravely] I warning you Ernestine. If you approach Pat, so God help me, I'll kill you! I swear it!

Mrs. Grant:
[laughing; then spitefully] Oh, Donovan! Don't make me laugh. Now run along and try to *impress* somebody else will you?Poor Miss Matthews. You really have let her down, Donovan.

[She smiles haughtily and triumphantly; two gun shots ring out; Ernestine drops her shot glass that crashes and breaks on the floor as her smile is replaced with a look of slight alarm. She looks down to see two bullet wounds in her chest. She feels the spot where she has been hit, she looks at Donovan who is holding the revolver that shot her and she falls forward on the table, dead]

Donovan:
[in present] I warned her, you see... But she wouldn't listen. Afterwords, I went home and changed for the theater. I couldn't let her hurt Pat like that, could I?

Hercule Poirot:
[to Miss Patricia Matthews] Mademoiselle Patricia, I once knew a beautiful English girl who resembled you greatly. But alas, she could not cook. So, our relationship withered.

Samuel Naughton:
Was the accommodation all right?

Hercule Poirot:
No, Monsieur Naughton, the accommodation was all wrong.

Samuel Naughton:
Oh.

Hercule Poirot:
The duck feather pillows; it feels as if the ducks are still in them.

Hercule Poirot:
Ahh. But Hercule Poirot; he sees everything and he forgets nothing.

[first lines]

Danvers:
[shoots a rook] Damn pests!

[Jonathan knocks the body of the rook out of the tree, then stumbles and falls]

Susan Maltravers:
Jack!

[she runs to him]

Susan Maltravers:
I'm here, darling, I'm here.

Jonathan Maltravers:
It's all right, Susan. I just stumbled, that's all.

Hercule Poirot:
One hundred and twenty-five miles, Hastings, we come on a wild gooseberry hunt.

Museum Attendant:
[looking at wax model of Poirot] Never quite as realistic in the flesh somehow, are they?

Samuel Naughton:
You worked it all out now, my who-done-it?

Hercule Poirot:
No, Monseiur Naughton, I do not give another thought to your who-done-it. The brain of Hercule Poirot is like a finely tuned engine of the motor-car; it does not run on the cheap, low-grade fuel.

Captain Hastings:
Ah, Poirot. Sleep well?

Hercule Poirot:
Like the top, Hastings. I am turning and spinning all of the night.

[last lines]

Chief Inspector Japp:
[in the Wax Museum] Well, I suppose we'd better be leaving. Catch our train.

Hercule Poirot:
Oh, no no no no no no no, no, Chief Inspector. It is still early, and the exhibits here are quite remarkable, n'est-ce pas? To be immortalized in such a fashion unique, ah! quelle honneur. Now I wonder what is around here. [he stands beside a model of himself]

Captain Hastings:
Oh, very impressive.

Chief Inspector Japp:
Quite incredible.

Captain Hastings:
It's a masterpiece.

Chief Inspector Japp:
A true work of art.

Captain Hastings:
That's his curly hair to a T.

Chief Inspector Japp:
Even got the little dimples on his cheeks. [they walk up to a model of Chaplin] Look.

Captain Hastings:
A real piece of craftsmanship, wouldn't you say?

[first lines]

Hans Meyer [letter]:
[voiceover] My dear Horace; We were all disappointed not to see you at our conference in Berlin. England is in danger of becoming isolated, you know. Many interesting developments were discussed, in particular Sir Reuben Astwell's new Astoprene compound. It's rumoured that Farben's over here will manufacture it under license. But then, you know what gossips scientists can be.

Captain Hastings:
I've never known you place much faith in intuition.

Hercule Poirot:
Intuition, Hastings, often describes some fact that is so deeply buried in the subconscious that the subject is not aware of its existence.

[last lines]

Miss Lemon:
[as Hastings prepares to tee off] Captain Hastings! [swinging her pendant] A hole in one, Captain Hastings, a hole in one.

Hercule Poirot:
Miss Lemon, Captain Hastings possesses far too much of the intellectual strength...

Captain Hastings:
Quite right, Poirot.

[Hastings tees off, and actually does make the hole in one]

Captain Hastings:
I say!

[first lines]

Jewellery Store Owner:
Stop, thief!

Hercule Poirot:
They fear me, Hastings. The criminals, they fear Hercule Poirot so much that they have repented of their naughty ways and have become citizens of the most upright.

Hercule Poirot:
Why did you wish to know where Monsieur Lavington lives, Hastings?

Captain Hastings:
I don't know. He was so beastly, the way he talked about Lady Millicent, I wanted to kick him down the stairs, huh.

Hercule Poirot:
You wanted to do it in the comfort of his own home, yes?

[last lines]

Chief Inspector Japp:
[watching Hasting's model boat sail] Did you ever think of going to sea, Poirot?

Hercule Poirot:
No no, my friend, this is as close as I like to get.

Chief Inspector Japp:
I used to dream about the sea.

[first lines]

Pauline Wetherby:
Barton, please!

Barton Russell:
Don't try to stop me, Pauline; I have to do it.

Pauline Wetherby:
I'm afraid.

Barton Russell:
Don't be. Two years almost to the day.

Barton Russell:
[to the grave] He will rest, Iris. I swear it.

Captain Hastings:
Is there *anything* in the English cuisine that you like, Poirot?

Hercule Poirot:
The English they do not have a cuisine, my friend, they have only the food.

Captain Hastings:
Well, that's a bit harsh, i...

Hercule Poirot:
Like the meat, overcooked, the vegetables too soft, the cheese inedible. And the day the English create their own wines is the day I return home to Belgium.

[last lines]

Captain Hastings:
[giving Poirot a chip wagon serving of fish and chips] English cuisine. There's nothing like it in the world! You must agree, Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
Eh bien, Hastings, when it is cold and dark and there is nothing else to eat, it is... [takes a small bite] passable.

Sir Roderick Horsfield:
Hell is the truth learned too late.

Nurse:
[Referring to Ariadne who's just suffered a concussion] She's delirious!

Ariadne Oliver:
No, I'm not!

Hercule Poirot:
I assure you, this is how she is.

Hercule Poirot:
Where there is murder, anything can happen.

Sir Roderick Horsfield:
Oh, ah, why, We're having a... a little house party this weekend. Perhaps you'd like to come?

Hercule Poirot:
I would be most honored.

Sir Roderick Horsfield:
Um, d-do you have a woman in tow?

Hercule Poirot:
No.

Sir Roderick Horsfield:
Well, bring her along anyway.

Hercule Poirot:
Let the game be played out.

Ariadne Oliver:
You do think of things, don't you?

Hercule Poirot:
Ah.

Ariadne Oliver:
What a calculating mind!... And tortorous! That's what I call it - tortorous!

Hercule Poirot:
Am I so calculating, Madame? Am I a solver of puzzles with a heart that is cold? Or are we looking at the greatest of mysteries that life ever throws up... the mystery that even I, Hercule Poirot, will never be able to solve - the nature of love.

Hercule Poirot:
The fact that I discovered nothing means there is a great deal being concealed.

[Cartwright has been exposed by Poirot as the killer]

Sir Charles Cartwright:
Damn you. What have you done?

[pause, then Poirot turns to him]

Hercule Poirot:
[furious] What have *I* done? It is *you* who have deceived *me*!

Sir Charles Cartwright:
You don't know what it's like. People think we're so happy, so glamorous. Girls run after you, beautiful girls. You kiss them, and then they go home. Take off their pretty costumes, and they go home, and you're alone.

[first lines]

Sir Charles Cartwright:
Ready about. Go about.

Sir Charles Cartwright:
[describing guests] Then last, and in every way least, the young squib, Oliver Manders, the villain of the piece. Let's just say he's a little bit devious. Accompanied by: the chip on his shoulder; he never goes anywhere without it.

Sir Charles Cartwright:
It's very handsome of you. Won't it take up your time?

Hercule Poirot:
What is time in the face of death?

[last lines]

Miss Wills:
I can see now I should have gone to the police. Don't judge me too harshly.

Hercule Poirot:
Ah, Mademoiselle, I investigate; I do not judge.

Miss Wills:
Just had a terrible thought.

Hercule Poirot:
Hm?

Miss Wills:
If anyone could have drunk the poison cocktail... golly, it could have been me!

Hercule Poirot:
[chuckles] And there is a possibility even more terrible, Mademoiselle... it could have been me.

Sir Charles Cartwright:
Did you ever see anyone die like that Thomelew?

Sir Bartholomew Strange:
I'm a psychologist. I don't see people die much at all.

Miss Wills:
I can see now I should have gone to the police. Don't judge me too harshly.

Hercule Poirot:
Medemoiselle, I investigate. I do not judge.

Hercule Poirot:
[to Egg] It is the approach classique. You see, the technique of elimination. We eliminate the suspects one by one. We do not scatter around like the puppies.

[first lines]

Dicker:
Oh yes, and what time do we call this, then, eh?

Postman:
Don't want to get you out of bed. Huh.

Dicker:
Here! No good leaving all this stuff for 56B; they're on holiday.

Postman:
What, all of 'em?

Dicker:
Oh, yeah. That Captain Hastings has gone off shooting things, and the secretary has gone off to visit her sister in Folkestone.

Postman:
Well, what of t' French one?

Dicker:
Somewhere foreign. Sent me a postcard with goats on it.

Postman:
Oh, yeah, I remember. Well, let's hope it keeps fine for him.

[last lines]

Pamela Lyall:
Goodbye, Monsieur Poirot. [kisses his cheeks]

Hercule Poirot:
Oh.

Pamela Lyall:
I hope we shall meet again.

Hercule Poirot:
Au revoir, mademoiselle.

Hercule Poirot:
Nature gives to the quarry of the viper a chance to identify his attacker. If every killer was as clearly marked, I would be without a job.

Hercule Poirot:
The mullet was excellent.

Major Barnes:
Oh, glad you enjoyed it.

Hercule Poirot:
Oh, yes. Where did you buy it?

Major Barnes:
What do you mean? I had to go out a long way for that!

Hercule Poirot:
No no no no, Major. Your interests are closer to the shore... The Italians, I notice, are strengthening their harbor defenses for military use?

Major Barnes:
You're very sharp-eyed, Mr. Poirot.

Hercule Poirot:
The sharp eyes are important in both our professions, Major.

Pamela Lyall:
Valentine Chantry is dead! Someone poisoned her husband's glass, and she drank it.

Hercule Poirot:
I feared such an outcome.

Pamela Lyall:
Then why didn't you do something?

Hercule Poirot:
Do what? What is there to do before the event? Tell the police someone has murder in their heart? No... I will come.

Police Inspector:
You crazy English! If you do not stop trying to kill each other, I shall put you all under arrest!

Pamela Lyall:
Don't you think that human beings tend to reproduce certain patterns, Mr. Poirot? Stereotype patterns? [draws a triangle in the sand]

Hercule Poirot:
Pr?cis?ment, mademoiselle.

Hercule Poirot:
[instructing the maid who is packing his clothes in his suitcase] No, no, no, no! With care! With CARE!

[Pamela Lyle is sprinting across the dock to find Poirot and tell him about the tragic and alarming death of Valentine Chantry... only to see his ship leaving. Pamela looks on in despair until... ]

Hercule Poirot:
[angrily yelling] I've told you again! And AGAIN! I'm on HOLIDAY! [shouts in French] I'm a Belgian Citizen! You have no right to detain me!

[Pamela runs to investigate and she sees a frustrated Poirot being questioned by several officers]

Custom's Officer:
Sir, you will not leave this island until you have explained all actions...

Hercule Poirot:
[shouts] How can I ever leave here now? My ship has gone, you idiot!

[he sighs; frustrated; then he sees Pamela Lyle; now pleasantly surprised]

Hercule Poirot:
Mademoiselle Lyle!

[Pamela Lyle rushes towards him; looking utterly distressed]

Hercule Poirot:
What is the matter? What are you doing here?

Pamela Lyall:
[frantically] Thank God! Mr. Poirot, I thought you have left! you must come quickly! Valentine Chantry is dead!

Hercule Poirot:
[calmly] Ah.

Pamela Lyall:
Someone poisoned her husband's glass... And she drank it.

Hercule Poirot:
[grimly] I have feared such an outcome.

Pamela Lyall:
Then why didn't you do something?

Hercule Poirot:
Do what? What was there to do? Before the event? Tell the police that someone has murder in their heart? No.

[pause]

Hercule Poirot:
I will come.

[Pamela Lyall is sprinting across the dock to warn Hercule Poirot about the tragic news about Mrs. Chantry's death; only to discover that his ship has already left; Pamela looks on in despair until... ]

Hercule Poirot:
[shouting angrily] I've Told You Again! And AGAIN! I AM ON THE SHIP TO LONDON! I AM A CITIZEN THAT WILL NOT BE OBTAINED!

[Pamela sneaks into the depot where the shouts are coming from; and finds Poirot arguing with the interrogating Custom's Officer]

Good Woman:
Monsieur, you're going have to explain to me everything...

Hercule Poirot:
[interrupting; shouts] no time to explain! My ship is gone, immediate!

[Poirot sighs in frustration; then he catches sight of Pamela Lyle]

Hercule Poirot:
[pleasantly surprised] Mademoiselle Lyall!

Pamela Lyall:
[gasping for breath] Mr. Poirot... [ she rushes towards him; looking genuinely distressed]

Hercule Poirot:
[concerned] What is the matter? What are you doing here?

Pamela Lyall:
[frantically] Oh Thank Goodness! Mr. Poirot I thought you have left! You must come quickly! Valentine Chantry is dead.

Hercule Poirot:
[calmly] Ah,

Pamela Lyall:
Someone had poisoned her husband's glass... and she drank it!

Hercule Poirot:
[gravely] I had feared such an outcome.

Pamela Lyall:
[distraught] why didn't you prevent it from happening before it was too late?

Hercule Poirot:
Prevent what? Prevent by doing what? By informing the police that someone has murder in their heart?

[pause]

Hercule Poirot:
I will come.

Claude Langton:
But I haven't heard anything about a murder.

Hercule Poirot:
No, you would not have heard of it. Because, as yet, it has not taken place. You see, if one can investigate a murder before it happens, then one might even, well, the little idea... prevent it?

John Harrison:
[seeing Poirot] Well, I'll be jiggered!

Molly Deane:
What is it?

John Harrison:
I'd know that egghead anywhere.

Captain Hastings:
[referring to Poirot] You know what he's like when he hasn't had a case for a few weeks. I thought a nice afternoon at a garden f?te might cheer him up a bit.

Hercule Poirot:
Taxi!

Chief Inspector Japp:
Hmmm, about the only thing that's going to cheer him up today is the discovery of a body in the Lucky Dip.

[Hastings and Japp laugh]

Hercule Poirot:
[to Japp, referring to Hastings' new camera] The new toy. I give it two, perhaps three weeks.

Hercule Poirot:
[after being stung by a wasp] The open air, it should be closed during the summer! Captain Hastings, he wonders why I have a hatred for these crawling, buzzing things. And the reason is they're always trying to kill me!

Hercule Poirot:
Certainment, this is the most difficult moment of my career. To solve the crime... that does not exist.

Hercule Poirot:
I see you have had some tea, n'est ce pas? You remember the Garden Fete? When I look into the future? You will permit if we do the same, please? Turn it around... no, no, no, no, no! No. Because this time, it is different, hein. This time we look backward, yes? Into the past. Because the past, it is clear as crystal, n'est ce pas? As clear as the crystals of cyanide poison that are in this cup. Oh, no, no, no, no, monsieur, this does not shock you. For it is you who put them there!

[first lines]

Chief Inspector Japp:
Sorry about this, Poirot. I thought as she was here visiting with her sister it would be a simple matter for her to meet us at the station. Trouble with Mrs Japp is when she gets nattering over a cup of tea she loses all track of time. Perhaps you two better run along and we'll see you there.

[last lines]

John Harrison:
And, Poirot, I'd... Thank God you came.

Hercule Poirot:
[reading a brochure for a fitness program] 'Use your vigour to keep your figure.' Absurd! There is nothing wrong with the body of Poirot. He is in the peak of condition!

Hercule Poirot:
[referring to Hastings' comment about him "making a mountain out of a molehill"] I am not making the hills out of the molemounds!