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- Ready? You have your instructions.|- Oui, monsieur.
Everything all right, Mrs Ho?
Dinner will be ready at 7.30.
- Good evening.|- I don't know if...
You are expected, Colonel.|May I take your coat?
- It is Colonel Mustard?|- No, that's not my name...
Tonight, you may well feel obliged|to my employer for the use of an alias.
- And who are you?|- Wadsworth, sir. The butler.
Yvette, give the Colonel|anything he requires.
Within reason, that is.
Wadsworth, I was...
Come in, madam. You are expected.
- You know who I am?|- You are to be known as Mrs White.
Yes, it said so in the letter. But why?
May I introduce you?|Mrs White, this is Yvette, the maid.
I see you know each other.
- Hello.|- Hello.
- Want a lift?|- Yes, please!
- Thanks. I'm late for a dinner date.|- Me too. Where are you going?
Let's see... Hill House, off Route 41.
Wait, let me look. That's where I'm going.|I got a letter like this.
- And this is Mrs Peacock.|- How do you do?
Yvette, check dinner will be ready|as soon as all the guests have arrived.
- Is this the address for Mr Boddy?|- You must be Mr Green.
No... Not you, sir.
It should be just off there.
That must be it.
- Why has the car stopped?|- It's frightened.
What a God-forsaken place!
Professor Plum! Miss Scarlet!
- I didn't know you were acquainted.|- We weren't.
May I present Professor Plum|and Miss Scarlet?
You've each been addressed|by a pseudonym.
Nobody here is being addressed|by their real name.
Ah, dinner.
I'm sorry. I'm a little accident-prone.
You'll find your names|beside your places. Please be seated.
- Is this place yours?|- No, sir. I'm a butler.
- What exactly do you do?|- I buttle, sir.
The butler is head of the kitchen|and dining-room. I keep things tidy.
What's all this about, this dinner party?
Ours not to reason why,|ours but to do and die.
- Die?|- Merely quoting Tennyson, sir.
I prefer Kipling. "The female of the|species is more deadly than the male."
- You like Kipling?|- I'll eat anything.
- For our host?|- For the seventh guest, Mr Boddy.
- I thought Mr Boddy was our host.|- So did I.
So, who is our host, Mr Wadsworth?
- I want to start.|- Wait for the other guest.
- I'll keep something warm for him.|- What did you have in mind?
Well, someone's got to break the ice,|so why not me?
I'm often a hostess,|for my husband's work.
It's always hard, when new friends|meet for the first time, to get acquainted,
so I'm prepared|to start the ball rolling.
I have no idea why we're here,|why I'm here, what this place is about,
but I am determined to enjoy myself.|I'm very intrigued,
and this soup's delicious, isn't it?
You are often a hostess|for your husband?
Yes, it's an integral part of your life|when you are the wife of a...
I forgot, we mustn't say who we are,|though I don't know why.
- Don't you?|- I know who you are.
- Will you tell?|- How do you know?
I work in Washington, too.
- So you're a politician's wife?|- Yes, I am.
Come on, then. Who's your husband?
- So what does your husband do?|- Nothing.
- He lies around on his back all day.|- Sounds like hard work to me.
I'm sorry!
- I'm a little accident-prone.|- Watch it.
- This is one of my favourite recipes.|- I know, madam.
What do you do in Washington DC,|Mr Green?
Come on! How can we get acquainted|if we say nothing about ourselves?
Perhaps he doesn't want to.
I don't know,|but if I wasn't making conversation
we'd be sitting here|in an embarrassed silence.
- Are you afraid of silence?|- Yes... No... Why?
You seem to suffer from what we call|"pressure of speech".
Who's "we"? Are you a shrink?
I do know a little|about psychological medicine, yes.
- A doctor?|- But I don't practise.
Practice makes perfect. Most men|need a little practice, don't you think?
- So what do you do?|- I work for the United Nations.
Another politician!
I work for a branch of the UNO,|WHO, the World Health Organisation.
- What is your area of concern?|- Family planning.
- Are you a real colonel?|- I am, sir.
You're not going to mention|you also live in Washington DC?
How did you know that?|Have we met before?
I've seen you before.|You may not have seen me.
- Do you live in Washington, too?|- I sure do.
- Does anyone not live in Washington?|- I don't.
But you work for the United Nations,|a government job.
Anyone not earn their living|from the government?
Where's our host|and why have we been brought here?
Good evening.|You are eagerly awaited.
- Locking me in? I'll take the key.|- Over my dead body, sir.
- May I take your bag?|- No.
- It contains evidence?|- Surprises, that's what it contains.
Ladies and gentlemen,|may I present Mr Boddy?
- What are they doing here?|- Eating dinner.
- Do sit down, Mr Boddy.|- Thanks.
No, you can take that away, honey.
I demand to know what's going on.|Why have we been dragged here?
Well, I believe we all received a letter.
My letter says, "It will be|to your advantage to be present,
"because a Mr Boddy will end a certain|long-standing, painful, financial liability."
- Signed, "A friend."|- I got a similar letter.
- So did we, didn't we?|- I also received a letter.
- No, Yvette. I just ate.|- You know her?
We know each other, don't we, dear?
Forgive me,|but was your letter the same?
- No.|- I see.
Can I interest any of you in fruit,|or dessert?
I suggest we adjourn|for coffee and brandy,
when I believe our unknown host|will reveal his intentions.
- There's no one here.|- Please help yourselves and be seated.
Mind if I smoke?
I'm instructed to explain to you|what you all have in common,
unless you would care to do the honours,|Mr Boddy?
- Why? They know who I am?|- I don't think so.
- It's a hoax. I suggest we all leave.|- You cannot leave this house!
- No? Who's gonna stop me?|- There's no way out.
The windows and doors are locked.
- Outrageous! You can't imprison us!|- Ladies and gentlemen!
Please return to the study.|Everything will be explained.
You too, Mr Boddy.
The other way!
- You can't go that way.|- It's only glass.
You all have one thing in common.|You're all being blackmailed.
You have all been paying money to|someone who threatens to expose you.
And none of you know|who's blackmailing you.
Please! That's ridiculous.|Nobody could blackmail me.
My life is an open book.|I've never done anything wrong.
Anybody else wish to deny it?
As everyone's in the same boat,|there's no harm in revealing details.
And my instructions are to do so.|Thank you, Yvette.
- Can't you spare us this humiliation?|- I'm sorry.
Professor Plum.|You were a psychiatry professor,
helping paranoid, homicidal lunatics|with delusions of grandeur.
- Now I work for the UN.|- The same job.
You don't practise medicine.
- His licence has been lifted.|- Why? What did he do?
You know what doctors mustn't do|with patients? He did.
- How disgusting!|- Are you making moral judgements?
Can you justify taking bribes, for handing|your husband's vote to lobbyists?
- Nothing wrong with paid consultancy.|- Not if it's publicly declared.
But what if it's used greenbacks slipped|under the door of the men's room?
- It stinks.|- Were you in the men's room?
- It's true?|- It's a vicious lie.
I'm sure we're glad to hear that.
But you've paid blackmail for over a year|to keep it out of the papers.
I'm being blackmailed|for something I didn't do.
Me too.
- Not me.|- No?
I'm being blackmailed,|but I did what I'm being blackmailed for.
What did you do?
I run a service providing gentlemen|with the company of a young lady.
Oh, yeah?
What's the phone number?
You knew the Colonel works|in Washington. Is he a client?
- No!|- I asked Miss Scarlet.
- Say it's not true.|- It's not.
- True?|- No.
- It is true!|- A double negative!
- You have photos?|- Sounds like a confession.
The double negative|has led to proof positive.
Trying to make me look stupid?
- You don't need any help from me.|- Right!
What's so terrible about the Colonel|visiting a house of ill fame?
- Most soldiers do.|- Please!
He holds a sensitive post|in the Pentagon.
You drive a very expensive car|for a colonel.
I came into money during the war|when I lost my parents.
Mrs White, you've been paying
since your husband died|under mysterious circumstances.
- Why is that funny?|- That's why he's on his back. In a coffin.
- I didn't kill him.|- So why pay the blackmailer?
I don't want a scandal. We'd had|a very humiliating confrontation.
He was deranged. He was lunatic.
He didn't like me.|He threatened to kill me in public.
- Why kill you in public?|- He threatened, in public, to kill her.
- Was that his final word?|- Being killed is pretty final.
- Yet he was the one who died, not you.|- What did he do for a living?
A scientist. Nuclear physics.
What was he like?
A stupidly optimistic man.|It came as a shock to him when he died.
He was found at home,|his head had been cut off and his...
You know...
- I'd been at the movies.|- Miss him?
It's life after death.|Now he's dead, I have a life.
- Your first husband also disappeared.|- That was his job. An illusionist.
- But he never reappeared.|- He wasn't a very good illusionist.
I have something to say.
I'm not going to wait|for Wadsworth to unmask me.
I work for the State Department.|And I'm a homosexual.
I feel no personal shame|or guilt about this.
But I must keep it a secret|or I'll lose my job on security grounds.
Thank you.
- That just leaves Mr Boddy.|- What's your little secret?
His secret? Hadn't you guessed?|He's your blackmailer.
- You bastard!|- Colonel!
Put 'em up!
- Gentlemen!|- If you can't fight fairly, don't fight.
He called me a bastard!
- Was that necessary, Mrs White?|- Wait! The police are coming.
- Oh, no!|- My career is very sensitive...
Listen! Blackmail depends on secrecy.
You admit he's blackmailing you.
Tell the police, convict him,|and it will be over.
It's not so easy.|You'll never tell the police.
I shall. I have evidence,|and this conversation is being recorded.
- Recordings aren't admissible evidence.|- Ladies and gentlemen!
The police will be here|in about 45 minutes.
Tell them the truth|and Mr Boddy will be behind bars.
- Where are you going?|- I can help them decide.
I'll get my bag.
- Who can guess what's in here?|- The evidence against us, no doubt.
- Did you know you'd see us tonight?|- Yes.
- What were you told?|- That you'd be discussing our little deal.
And if I didn't appear,|Wadsworth would tell the police about it.
Naturally, I could hardly resist|putting in an appearance.
Excuse me.
- Open 'em.|- Why not?
I enjoy getting presents|from strange men.
A candlestick? What's this for?
In your hands,|you each have a lethal weapon.
If you denounce me to the police,|you will also be exposed and humiliated.
I'll see to that in court.
But... if one of you kills Wadsworth now,
no one but the seven of us|will ever know.
He has the key to the front door...
...which he said would only be opened|over his dead body.
I suggest we take him up on that offer.
The only way to stay off the front pages|is for one of you to kill Wadsworth...
- It's not Wadsworth!|- Is he alive?
Stand back! Give him air. Let me see...
He's dead.
- Who had the gun?|- Me, but I didn't shoot.
You had the gun.|If you didn't, who did?
Nobody! No gunshot wound! Somebody|grabbed the gun and it went off.
Look, the bullet broke that vase|on the mantle.
- Sorry.|- Excuse me.
He's right.|There's a bullet hole in the wall.
- How did he die?|- I don't know. I'm not a forensic expert.
- One of us must have killed him.|- I didn't.
I need a drink!
Maybe he was poisoned!
Mrs Peacock, please. It's all right.
We don't know anything.|Sit down. Sit down, Mrs...
I... had to stop her from screaming.
- But was the brandy poisoned?|- I don't...
- Looks like we'll never know.|- Unless... Unless she dies too.
- It's locked.|- Open up!
- The murderer!|- Screaming?
- It must be Yvette.|- Oh, my God!
- You're alive!|- No thanks to you.
- You locked me up with a murderer!|- The murderer is in this room?
- Where?|- Where? Here!
We are looking at him, or her. As|Mrs White said, one of you is the killer.
- How do you know?|- I was listening.
- But why were you screaming in here?|- I am frightened.
I also drink the cogna. Mon Dieu,|I can't stay in here by myself.
- Come with us.|- With the murderer?
There is safety in numbers, my dear.
- No clue how he died?|- No.
This is absolutely terrible.|It's not what I intended. Oh, my God!
- Not what you intended?|- You're not the butler?
Not the butler, but a butler.|In fact, I was his butler.
If he invited us, why was he late?
I invited you. I wrote the letters.|It was all my idea.
Wait a minute. I don't understand.
Why invite us?|Were you helping him blackmail us?
- Certainly not!|- You had better explain.
Please sit down, everyone.
When I said I was Mr Boddy's butler,|it was true but misleading.
I was once his butler. But it was not|his death that ended my employment.
- When did it end?|- When my wife decided to end her life.
She too was being blackmailed|by this odious man who lies dead.
He hated my wife|for the same reason he hated you.
He believed you were all|thoroughly un-American.
- Sorry.|- He felt it was inappropriate
for a senator to have a corrupt wife,|a doctor to take advantage of patients,
for a wife to emasculate|her husband and... so forth...
It's ridiculous. Why didn't he|report us to the authorities?
He decided to use his information|to make some money - very American!
- What was your role?|- I was a victim, too.
At least, my wife was.|She had friends who were...
- Socialists!|- Oh, my God!
Well, we all make mistakes.
He threatened to report her|unless she named her friends.
She refused, so he blackmailed her.|We had no money.
The price of his silence|was that we work for nothing, like slaves.
- To make a long story short...|- Too late!
The suicide of my wife|created a sense of injustice in me.
I resolved to put Mr Boddy in jail.
It seemed the best way to do it,|and free you from blackmail too,
was to get everyone face to face,|confront Mr Boddy with his crimes,
and turn him over to the police.
- So, everything is explained.|- We still don't know who killed him.
We have to find out|before the police arrive.
- We can't have the police now!|- How can we know which of you did it?
- Why "which of you"?|- I didn't.
All of us had the opportunity|and a motive.
- Great!|- Maybe it wasn't one of us.
- Who else?|- Who else is here?
- The cook...|- The cook!
Well, she's not here.
I didn't do it!
Would somebody help me, please?|Help me, please!
- Don't touch it, it's evidence.|- We have to find out who did this.
- You'd better explain yourself.|- Me? Why?
- Why kill the cook?|- Dinner was OK.
- How can you make jokes?|- It's my defence mechanism.
Some defence!|If I was the killer, I'd kill you next.
I said "if"...!
- The only admitted killer here is her.|- I've admitted nothing.
- How many husbands have you had?|- Mine?
- Yours.|- Five, just five.
Husbands are like Kleenex,|soft, strong, disposable.
You lure them like a spider with flies.
- Flies are where men are vulnerable.|- Right.
If it wasn't you, who was it?|Who had the dagger? Mrs Peacock!
- I put it down, in the study.|- When?
I don't know...|Before I fainted, after I fainted.
But any of you could have picked it up.
I suggest we take the cook's body|into the study.
- Why?|- I'm the butler. I keep the kitchen tidy.
Look! The body's gone!
- What are you staring at? Who's there?|- Nobody.
- What do you mean?|- No body. Mr Boddy's body has gone.
Maybe he wasn't dead.|We should have made sure.
- By cutting his head off?|- Really!
- Where is he?|- We'd better look for him.
- He couldn't have been dead.|- He was! At least, I thought he was.
- What's the difference?|- Quite a difference to him.
- Maybe there is life after death.|- As improbable as sex after marriage.
- Maybe Mr Boddy killed the cook!|- Yes!
If you'll excuse me...|Is there a little girl's room?
- Oui, oui, madame.|- No, I just want to powder my nose.
What's this?
- The negatives the Colonel referred to.|- My God!
- Planning to blackmail him?|- Certainly not!
I was going to give them to the Colonel|once Mr Boddy was unmasked.
Very pretty! Want to see?|They might shock you.
- No, I am a lady.|- So how d'you know what they're like?
- What are they like?|- I'd like them back.
- Something in them concerns me, too.|- Let me see.
- My! Nobody can get into that position.|- Sure they can. Let me show you.
Get off!
Mr Boddy! He's attacking her.
- No, he's dead.|- Mr Boddy, dead? Again?!
- Oh, my God!|- She's fainting.
- Catch her!|- I'll catch her. Fall into my arms.
- Sorry.|- You've got blood on your hands.
I didn't do it!
He's got new injuries.
He's dead now.|Why kill him twice?
- Unnecessary.|- What we call "overkill".
- Psychotic.|- Unless he wasn't dead.
- So what?|- That's what we want to find out!
- Who killed him, where, and with what.|- No need to shout.
I'm not shouting!
All right, I am.|I'm shouting, I'm shouting...
OK, put the corpses on the sofa.
Ladies first.
- Don't get blood on the sofa.|- The dagger will go further into her back.
Tip her forward, over the arm.
Now Mr Boddy.
- A little higher.|- There you go.
Now... Who...
- Who had the candlestick?|- It was given to you.
I dropped it.|Anyone could've picked it up.
We have all these weapons, the gun,|the rope, the wrench, the lead pipe.
Let's lock them all in this cupboard.|There's a homicidal maniac about.
- That's wise.|- Good idea.
- Why are you pocketing the key?|- To keep it safe.
That means you can open it.|What if you're the murderer?
- I'm not.|- What if you are?
It has to go somewhere.|I know I'm safe.
We don't!
- I have an idea. We'll throw it away.|- Good idea.
- Brilliant.|- That'll do it.
Sorry... Can we help?
I didn't mean to disturb|the whole household.
My car broke down and I was wondering|if I could use your phone.
Just a moment.
Very well, sir.|Would you care to come in?
- Well, where is it?|- The body?
- The phone. What body?|- No body. Nobody in the study.
- No!|- But there's a phone in the lounge.
Thank you.
- When you've finished, please wait here.|- Certainly.
- Where's the key?|- The key to the weapons cupboard.
- You still wish me to throw it away?|- Yes!
Well... What now?
- Wadsworth, let me out.|- No, we've got to know who did it.
- If you go, I'll say you killed them both.|- Me too.
I'll make you sorry you started this,|one day when we're alone.
No sane man|would be alone with you.
- I could use a drink.|- So could I.
Just checking...|Two corpses, everything's fine.
- Anybody else want a whisky?|- Yeah.
All right, look. Pay attention, everybody.
Am I right that there is nobody else here?
- No.|- There is someone else.
- No, I said no meaning yes.|- No meaning yes?
I want a straight answer.|Is there someone else? Yes or no?
- No.|- No, there is, or no, there isn't?
- Yes.|- Please!
Shouldn't we get rid of that man|before he finds out what's going on?
- We can't throw him out.|- If he stays, he'll get suspicious.
- If he goes, he'll be suspicious.|- I'd be suspicious.
Who cares? Let him stay locked up|for another half an hour.
The police will be here by then, and|there are two dead bodies in the study!
There's confusion as to whether|there's anyone else here.
- There isn't.|- Confusion or anybody else?
- Either. Or both.|- Gimme a clear answer.
- Certainly. The question?|- Is anybody else here?
- No!|- So he says. But does he know?
I suggest we do this in military fashion.|We split up and search the house.
- Split up?!|- Yes.
We have very little time,|so we'll split into pairs.
What if one of us is the murderer?
Whoever is left with the killer|might get killed.
- Then we'll discover the murderer.|- But one of the pair will be dead!
This is war, Peacock!|Casualties are inevitable.
Making omelettes means breaking eggs,|every cook knows.
Look what happened to the cook!
- Will you take that chance?|- What choice have we?
- None.|- You're right.
Bon, d'accord. But it is dark upstairs.|Will anyone go with me?
- I will.|- No, thank you.
I suggest we all draw lots, for partners.
Ready? The two shortest together,|the next two shortest together. Agreed?
I suggest the two shortest|search the cellar and so on, up.
It's you and me, honey-bunch.
The cellar.
We know what's in the study|and the library.
- The stranger's in the lounge.|- Let's go with the billiard-room.
- Want to go in front?|- Absolutely no.
- I'm sure there's no one there.|- Then you go.
All right.
- Well, ladies first.|- No, you can go first.
- I insist.|- I insist.
- Afraid of a fate worse than death?|- Just death.
- Are you going in there?|- Yes.
- Right.|- Right.
- I see no light switches.|- Nor do I. There must be some.
- Shall I come with you?|- No!
I mean... No, thank you.
- Ladies first.|- No, thanks.
- Go on, I'll be right behind you.|- That's why I'm nervous.
Then we go together.
Stay there!
If there's anybody in here, just look out!
Are you hiding? I'm coming!
- What room's this?|- Search me.
- All right.|- Get your mitts off me.
- Nobody here.|- He's behind one of those curtains.
You look. I'll search the kitchen.
I'm a little nervous.
I'm in this big house,|and I've been locked into the lounge.
The funny thing is, there's a group|of people here having a sort of party.
And one of them is my old boss from...
Looks like a secret passage.
- Shall we see where it leads?|- What the hell?
I'll go first. I've had a good life.
- Oh, God!|- It's all right.
Oh, my God!
Come on! We're locked in here!
Down here! Get us out of here!
- Where's it coming from?|- Where are we going?
- Where are they?|- The lounge.
We're in here!
- The door's locked!|- I know!
- Where's the key?|- It's gone!
- Never mind, unlock the door!|- I can't unlock it without the key!
- Let us in!|- Let us out!
It's no good. Stand back.
There's no alternative.|I'll just have to break it down.
- I know, I have it!|- Help!
Will you shut up? We're doing our best!
They're shooting at us.
- I've been shot!|- Come out! The door is open!
- Why are you shooting at us?|- To get you out.
You could have killed us.|I could've been killed.
I can't take any more scares.
- Which one of you did it?|- We found him, together.
- How did you get in?|- There's a secret passage.
Is that the same gun?|The cupboard was locked!
- Unlocked.|- Unlocked?
See for yourself.
How did you know|you could get at the gun?
I didn't. I think I break it open,|but it was open already.
A likely story.
Maybe they'll just go away.
- I'm going to open it.|- Why?
I have nothing to hide, I didn't do it!|The key.
Thank you.
Good evening, sir.
- Yes?|- I found an abandoned car at the gate.
- Did the driver come in here for help?|- No.
- Well, actually, yes.|- No!
- Seems to be some disagreement.|- No!
- Can I come in and use your phone?|- Of course, sir.
You may use the one in the... No...
You could use the one in the st... No...
Would you be kind enough|to wait in... in the library?
Don't I know you from someplace?
You all seem very anxious.
The chandelier fell and almost killed us.|Would you come this way?
Frightfully draughty, these old houses.
Please help yourself to a drink,|if you'd like.
- Not the cognac, just in case.|- In case of what?
What now?
- We should've told.|- You say that now.
- I said it then.|- Oh, shut up!
Let's clean this up.
- Maybe the cop answered it.|- And who shall I say is calling?
Would you hold on, please?
Let me outta here!|You have no right to shut me in.
I'll book you for false arrest,|wrongful imprisonment,
and obstructing an officer|in the course of his duty and murder.
What do you mean, "murder"?
I just said it so you'd open the door.|What's going on?
Why lock me in? Why are you|getting calls from J Edgar Hoover?
- J Edgar Hoover?|- That's right. The head of the FBI!
- Why is he on your phone?|- He's on everyone's. Why not mine?
Excuse me.
- What's going on here?|- We're having a party.
- Mind if I look around?|- Sure!
- You can show him around, Mr Green.|- Me?
Yes, you can show him the dining-room,|the kitchen, the ballroom...
Fine. Officer, come with me.
I'll show you the dining-room|or the kitchen or the ballroom...
Make it look convincing.
- So, this is the dining-room.|- No kidding!
Come on!
- What's going on in those two rooms?|- Which two rooms?
- Those two rooms.|- Oh, those two rooms!
- Officer, you shouldn't go in there.|- Why not?
Because it's all too shocking.
It's not all that shocking.|These folks are just having a good time.
My God!
Excuse me.
- This man's drunk. Dead drunk.|- Dead right!
- You're not going to drive home?|- He won't drive, I promise you.
- He'll get a lift?|- We'll get him a car.
- A long black car.|- A limousine.
- Officer!|- I've seen it all.
- I can explain everything.|- You don't have to.
- Don't worry, it's nothing illegal.|- Are you sure?
- This is America.|- I see.
- It's a free country.|- I didn't know it was that free.
- May I use your phone now?|- Certainly.
Why lock him in?
We haven't finished|searching the house yet!
- Only 15 minutes till the police come.|- They already came!
- Shut up!|- Let's get on with it.
Look! I can't believe it.|I wonder where this one goes?
Let's find out.
Let's try the ballroom again.
Don't you touch me!
Shut the door.|Did anyone recognise you?
They must have. And not just my face.|They know every inch of my body.
And they're not the only ones.
It's you!
There's something funny going on|around here, I don't know what it is.
No, I'm not on duty.|But I have a feeling that I'm in danger.
You know that big, ugly house...
Are you there?
I am|Your singing telegram!
I'm coming!|I'm just trying to find the door.
- Help me, please!|- Coming.
What's this? Another door?
Two murders.
- Neither was shot. I heard a gun.|- So did I.
- I heard the front door slam.|- The murderer must have run out.
- Three murders.|- Six altogether.
This is getting serious.
No gun. Yvette dropped it here.
- Very well. I know who did it.|- You do?
Furthermore, I'm going to tell you|how it was done.
Follow me.
To help you understand, I shall take|you through the events step by step.
At the start, Yvette was here by herself,|waiting to offer you champagne.
I was in the hall.
I know, I was there.|Then I hurried across to the kitchen.
The cook was in here, alive,|sharpening knives.
And then...
The doorbell rang...
It was you. I asked for your coat|and stopped you from saying your name
as I wanted you to use pseudonyms.|I introduced myself as the butler,
and I ran across the hall to the library.
Then Yvette met you, and smiled,|and poured you a drink.
The doorbell rang. It was Mrs White.|I took her coat and hung it up.
I introduced Mrs White|to Colonel Mustard,
and I noticed that Mrs White|and Yvette flinched.
There was a rumble of thunder|and a crash of lightning.
- In short...|- Too late!
You all arrived.
Then the gong was struck by the cook|and we went into the dining-room.
Mrs Peacock sat here,|Professor Plum here.
Mrs White, Mr Green,|Miss Scarlet, Colonel Mustard.
This chair was vacant. Anyway,|we all revealed we'd had a letter...
- Get on with it!|- The point is, blackmail.
- All this came out in the study.|- You're right.
Mr Green stood here, Mrs Peacock here,|Miss Scarlet, Professor Plum, Colonel...
- Get on with it!|- I'm getting there!
Mr Boddy got packages from the hall,|you opened your presents,
Mr Boddy switched out the lights...
- Oh, my God.|- Grand!
- Mr Boddy lay apparently dead.|- He was dead!
So why was he bashed|with a candlestick?
- OK, I made a mistake!|- Right.
But why did Mr Boddy|pretend he was dead?
Because he realised|his scheme had misfired.
The gunshot was intended to kill him,|not me.
The bullet grazed him. He escaped death|by pretending to be dead already.
Whoever grabbed the gun|was trying to kill him!
What happened next?|Mrs Peacock took a drink.
You said, "Maybe it's poisoned."|She screams.
We took her to the sofa...
Mr Green...
Well, I had to stop her screaming...
Then more screaming. Yvette!|We all rushed to the billiard-room.
- But one of us wasn't here. No.|- No?
No. Maybe one of us|was murdering the cook.
- Who wasn't here with us?|- Do you know?
I do. While we stood here,|trying to stop Yvette from panicking,
one of us|could have taken the dagger,
run down the hall,
and stabbed the cook.
- We'd have seen them run back.|- Not if they used this secret passage.
And the murderer ran|down the passage to the study.
- Is that where it comes out?|- Yes, look.
- How did you know?|- This house belongs to a friend.
- You could be the murderer.|- Ridiculous!
If I was the murderer,|why would I tell you how I did it?
- Who else knew of the passage?|- Me and the Colonel found it.
- You could've known all along.|- Why should we believe you?
She was with us while Yvette|was screaming, remember?
Why was the cook murdered?|She had nothing to do with Mr Boddy.
She did! I gathered you here because|you were all implicated in his blackmail.
Did none of you deduce|that the others were involved, too?
- Who?|- The cook and Yvette.
- No!|- That's how he got his information.
Before blackmailing anyone,|he had to discover their secret.
The cook and Yvette were accomplices.
I see. So, whoever knew|that the cook was involved...
...killed her?|- Yes.
I know, as Mr Boddy's butler,|that the cook worked for one of you.
- Who?|- You recognised Yvette. Don't deny it.
- What do you mean? I deny nothing.|- Another denial.
OK, I knew Yvette. My husband|had an affair with her. I didn't care.
- You knew Yvette.|- She worked for me.
You also knew her.|You were one of Miss Scarlet's clients.
That's why you wanted those photos.|You and Yvette in flagrante delicto.
Mr Boddy threatened to send them|to my mother. It would've killed her.
Amazing, since you told us she's|dead already. So, he had the motive.
- You all did.|- Where and when was Mr Boddy killed?
Don't you see? We came back from|the study. Mr Boddy was on the floor,
pretending to be dead.|One of us knows he's alive.
I said I'd invited you and we realised|there was only one other person here.
The cook!
Where is he?
She was dead. We laid her down,|our backs to the freezer.
- One of us went through the passage...|- Again?
...back to the study.
The murderer was in the passage.|Mr Boddy had been on the floor.
He jumped up...
The murderer came out,|picked up the candlestick...
Mr Boddy followed us into the hall,|the murderer crept up behind him...
- And killed him!|- Will you stop that?
Then he threw him into the toilet.
And joined us in the kitchen.|It took half a minute.
- So who wasn't in the kitchen?|- That is the murderer.
We put the weapons in here,|locked it, and ran to the door
to throw away the key.
The motorist!
I put the key in my pocket. Someone|could have swapped it for another.
- It could have been any one of us.|- Precisely.
Wait a minute...
Colonel Mustard has a top secret job,
Mrs White's husband|was a nuclear physicist, and...
Yvette is a link between them.
- What is your job, Colonel?|- I can tell you.
He's working on the next fusion bomb.
- How did you know?|- Keep a secret? Me too.
Was this a plot?|Or did Colonel Mustard do it alone?
We'll see.|Let's look at the other murders.
- Bad luck the motorist arrived.|- No luck. I invited him.
- You did?|- It's obvious.
Everyone was Mr Boddy's|victim or accomplice.
Everyone who died gave him|information about one of you.
I got them here to force him to confess.
What about that motorist?|What information did he have?
- He was my driver during the war.|- What was he holding over you?
He knew that I was a war profiteer.
I stole essential Air Force radio parts|and sold them on the black market.
That's how I made my money.|It doesn't make me a murderer.
A lot of our airmen died|because their radios didn't work.
Was the policeman|working for Mr Boddy, too?
The cop was from Washington,|on my payroll.
I bribed him so I could carry on|with business. Mr Boddy found out.
- Oh, my God!|- Oh, please!
And the singing telegram girl?
She was my patient once.|I had an affair with her.
That's how I lost my licence.|Mr Boddy found that out, too.
Let's put her in the study|with the others.
So, now you all know why they died.
Whoever killed Mr Boddy|wanted his accomplices dead.
How did the murderer know?
I guessed that the singer|informed on me to Mr Boddy,
but I knew nothing of you until now.
The murderer needed to get the weapons|and stole the key from my pocket.
Then Colonel Mustard suggested|we search the house.
That's right! It was his suggestion.
One of us slipped away|and hurried to the study.
On the desk was the envelope|containing photos and letters,
the evidence of Mr Boddy's informants.
- Where's the envelope now?|- Gone.
Destroyed. Perhaps in the fire,|the only possible place.
Aha...! Then the murderer|went to the cupboard,
unlocked it, took the wrench...
Then we found the passage to|the lounge and found the motorist dead.
That's right! We couldn't get in,|so we went back,
got the gun and shot the door open,|bang! And then the doorbell rang.
Whoever it is must go away|or they'll be killed.
Have you ever thought|about the Kingdom of Heaven?
- What?|- The Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.
- You ain't kiddin'.|- Armageddon is almost upon us.
- It's already here!|- Go away!
- Your souls are in danger.|- Our lives are in danger, you beatnik!
The cop came, we put him in the library.|We forgot the open cupboard, split up.
And the murderer|switched off the electricity.
- Oh, my God!|- Turn on the lights!
- Didn't mean to frighten you.|- Bit late for that... I hate that!
Then came three more murders.|None of us killed Mr Boddy or the cook.
- So who did?!|- The one person who wasn't with us.
- Yvette.|- Yvette!
She was listening to us. She heard|the shot and thought he was dead.
While we examined the bullet-hole,|she got the dagger, ran to the kitchen,
and stabbed the cook. We heard nothing|because Mrs Peacock was screaming.
Yvette returned,|screamed and we ran to her.
- When did she kill Mr Boddy?|- When I said.
We ran to see the cook. Yvette|checked that Mr Boddy was dead.
He followed into the hall, she hit him on|the head and dragged him to the toilet.
- Why?|- To create confusion.
- It worked.|- Why did she do it?
Was she obeying orders|from the person who later killed her?
- Who?|- Who?
Was it one of her clients?
Or was it a jealous wife?|Or an adulterous doctor?
- No, it was her employer, Miss Scarlet.|- That's a lie.
Is it? You used her|the way you always used her.
You killed the motorist.
- How did I know about the passage?|- Yvette told you.
When we split up again,|you switched off the electricity.
You got the lead pipe and the rope,|strangled Yvette,
ran to the library, killed the cop,|picked up the gun,
opened the door, recognised the singer|from her photo, and shot her.
- You've no proof.|- The gun is missing.
Gentlemen, turn out your pockets.|Ladies, empty your purses.
Whoever has the gun is the murderer.
Brilliant! I congratulate you.
- Me too!|- Shut up!
- One thing I don't understand.|- One thing?
Why? Half of Washington|knows your business.
You were in no danger. The whole town|would be implicated with you.
They don't know|that my real business is secrets.
And Yvette found them out for me.
The secrets of Senator Peacock's|defence committee,
Colonel Mustard's fusion bomb,|Professor Plum's UN contacts,
and the work of your husband,|the nuclear physicist.
So, it is political. You're a Communist!
No, Mr Green.|Communism is just a red herring.
Like all prostitutes, I'm a capitalist|and I'm going to sell my secrets,
your secrets, to the highest bidder.
- What if we don't cooperate?|- You will, or I'll expose you.
- We could expose you. Six murders...|- It won't help your reputation at the UN.
You're implicated not only in adultery|with a patient but in her death.
- And the deaths of five others.|- You don't know the UN, it might help.
- It's no good, I've no more money.|- Neither do I.
I know. But you can pay me|in government information, all of you.
Except you, Wadsworth.
As a butler, you have no access|to government secrets.
So, I'm afraid your moment has come.
- Not so fast! I do have a secret or two.|- Such as?
Game's up.|There are no bullets in that gun.
- I'm not falling for that trick.|- It's no trick.
One for Boddy, two for the chandelier,|two at the door and one for the singer.
- That's not six.|- One plus two plus two plus one.
One for the chandelier.|One plus two plus one plus one.
That's one plus one plus two plus one.|Not one plus two plus one plus one.
One plus two plus... Shut up!
The point is, there's one bullet,|and guess who's gonna get it?
I'm only a guest!
Where's the Chief?
Well done, Wadsworth.
I warned you. Mr Hoover|is an expert on Armageddon.
Don't hate me for trying to shoot you.
Frankly, Scarlet, I don't give a damn.|There are no bullets in this gun.
One plus two... plus one...
Plus two, plus one... is...
In the dark,|the murderer ran to the study,
got the rope and lead pipe,|ran to the billiard-room,
strangled Yvette...
Ran to the library, hit the cop.|The doorbell, it was the singing telegram.
The murderer picked up the gun, ran|to the door, recognised and shot the girl.
- Then ran back to the cellar.|- The cellar!
- Colonel Mustard wasn't in the cellar!|- No... But you were!
You were missing|when the cook and Mr Boddy died.
The cook used to be your cook.|Remember your fatal mistake?
You told us at dinner|we were eating your favourite dish.
Monkey's brains,|though popular in Cantonese cuisine,
are not often found in Washington DC.
Is that what we ate?
- Why murder the others?|- In case Mr Boddy'd told them of you.
It was nothing to do with a nuclear|physicist and the fusion bomb?
No, Communism was a red herring.|Mrs Peacock did it all.
- There's no proof.|- The gun is missing.
Gentlemen, turn out your pockets.|Ladies, empty your purses.
Whoever has the gun is the murderer.
Very well.
What do you propose to do about it?
- Nothing.|- Nothing?
Nothing. I don't approve of murder,|but you've done the world a service
by ridding it of a blackmailer|and his informers.
- The police will be here any minute.|- Why? Nobody's called them.
- You mean...?|- That's right!
I suggest we stack the bodies|in the cellar, lock it,
leave quietly one at a time|and pretend none of this ever happened.
Great idea! I'll leave first,|if you don't mind.
Be my guest. In fact, I think|we all owe you a vote of thanks.
For she's a jolly good fellow|For she's a jolly good fellow
For she's a jolly good fellow
Which nobody can deny
Which nobody can deny|Which nobody can deny
For she's a jolly good fellow|For she's a jolly good fellow
For she's a jolly...
- I said I didn't do it!|- What if the authorities find out?
- The FBI will take care of that.|- You mean...
Mr Hoover? I work for him, of course.|How else could I know all about you?
- One thing I don't understand.|- One thing?
Who was bribing Mrs Peacock?
A foreign power.|Her husband handles defence contracts.
- Will there be a cover-up?|- Yes, what's to be gained by exposure?
Do the FBI clean up|after multiple murder?
Yes. Why do you think it's run|by a man called Hoover?
Mrs Peacock?
- How did you know my name?|- The Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.
OK, take her away.
Take your hands off me.|I'm a Senator's wife!
Wadsworth, we got her.
See? Like the Mounties,|we always get our man.
Mrs Peacock was a man?
Would anyone care for fruit, or dessert?
- Didn't mean to frighten anyone.|- Bit late for that!
- Then three more murders.|- So who did it?!
Let's consider each murder one by one.
Professor Plum,|you knew Mr Boddy was still alive.
Even psychiatrists can tell|if patients are alive or dead.
You fired the gun in the dark, missed,|and pretended he was dead.
You were able to kill him later,|unobserved.
He was missing in the kitchen|when we found the cook.
He was with us when we found Yvette,|so how did he kill the cook?
- I didn't.|- Expect us to believe that?
I expect you to believe it.|You killed the cook.
She informed on you to Mr Boddy.|You made one mistake.
Sitting here, Mrs Peacock said she was|eating one of her favourite recipes.
And monkeys' brains,|though popular in Cantonese cuisine,
are not often found in Washington DC.
Colonel, when we saw the motorist|at the door,
you took the key to the cupboard|and suggested we split up.
You left Miss Scarlet,|crossed the hall,
opened the cupboard, took the wrench,
entered the lounge,|killed the motorist with a blow.
Like that!
- This is incredible!|- Not compared to what happened next.
I went upstairs with you, Mrs White.
And, while I was in the master bedroom,
you hurried downstairs,|turned off the electricity,
got the rope, and throttled Yvette.
You were jealous of your husband|and Yvette so you killed him, too.
Yes, I did it. I killed Yvette.
I hated her so much...
it, it... flames...
flames on the side of my face...
breathing, breath, heaving breaths...
While we were in the billiard-room,|Miss Scarlet crossed to the library,
and hit the cop she'd been bribing|with a lead pipe.
- True or false?|- True. Who are you? Perry Mason?
- Mr Green must have shot the singer.|- I didn't!
- There's nobody else left.|- I didn't do it.
The gun is missing.|Whoever's got the gun shot the girl.
- I shot her.|- You?!
I was going to expose you.
- I choose to expose myself.|- Please! Ladies present.
You thought Mr Boddy was dead. Why?|None of you had met him before.
You're Mr Boddy!
- Who did I kill?|- My butler.
Oh, shucks.
He was expendable, like you.
I'm grateful to you|for disposing of my informers.
Saved me the trouble|of destroying the evidence.
This has nothing to do|with my nuclear physicist husband
or Colonel Mustard's work|with the fusion bomb?
No, Communism was just a red herring.
The police are coming.|You'll never get away with it.
Why should the police come?|Nobody's called them.
- You mean...|- Oh, my God! Of course!
Why shouldn't we escape?|Put the bodies in the cellar,
leave quietly and forget|any of this ever happened.
- And you'll go on blackmailing us.|- Of course, why not?
Well, I'll tell you why not.
Good shot, Green.
Very good.
- You a cop?|- I'm a plant.
- A plant? Men like you are called fruits.|- Very funny.
FBI. That call from J Edgar Hoover|was for me.
I told you I didn't do it.
- All right. Who done it?|- He did it.
- That gentleman...|- No!
They all did it.
But if you wanna know|who killed Mr Boddy, I did.
In the hall, with the revolver.
OK, Chief. Take 'em away.|I'm going home to sleep with my wife.
Caccia alla volpe - After The Fox
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