DER BELGIER (36) LANGFINGER #krimihörspiel #retro

Hello, here I am again, your little Belgian, here on Örnmalzu, the channel for real horror games and retro friends. You remember, in my egg-shaped head are many little gray cells and they want out. And what I experience today in this special case is incredible. And I hope that you solve the case with me. Have a good time and if you want, give this video a like. It's very easy and costs nothing. And now it starts with Örnmalzu. Örnmalzu presents the Belgian. A little man with a big combination fork. Whitehaven Mansions 231 is the address of our little Belgian. There he lives and works. No, no, no, no, no, no. But it's impossible. Miss Lemon! Concerned, Miss Lemon looks in Poirot's red face. Something is wrong with our little Belgian. Miss Lemon, this letter contains three mistakes. Three mistakes in one letter? This has never happened before. Oh, Mr. Poirot. This has never happened before. And now you have three typos on one page. Mr. Poirot, I'm heartbroken. Are you in good health? That's not the point. Yes, maybe I'm missing something. I'm completely confused, Mr. Poirot. Because of my sister Florence. One moment, please, Miss Lemon. You have a sister? Yes. She lives in Singnapur, but since her husband died, she's been running a student home. It's located in the Hickory Road. And your sister has a lot of problems? Yes. All the time, some things disappear. Strange things, in the most inexplicable way. She's worried, Mr. Poirot. I suppose that's why I'm worried, too. I understand. How would it be, Miss Lemon, if we were to drink tea with your sister today? That would be wonderful. If that were possible. You make an appointment with Miss Lemon's sister in Macney's Hot Pot at 5 p.m. for a cup of tea. A stethoscope, a lighter, a box of borax powder, electric light bulbs, a pair of shoes. Only one shoe? Yes. Go on, Miss Abbott. A silk scarf, a backpack. We found it cut open in the heating room, outside, in the backyard. And one of the girls, Patricia, lost a diamond ring. But we got it back. And how did you get it back? That was very strange. One day, it was in the soup. That's made-up nonsense, Mr. Poirot. Indeed, very unusual. Merci. I have to congratulate you, Miss Abbott. Pardon? I think your problem is unique and especially wonderful. Oh. Miss Abbott, can you describe this shoe to me? Of course. It was very unusual. Unusual? And what are you going to do about it, Mr. Poirot? The case doesn't sound very exciting for our little Belgian, but it does get him out of his lethargy a bit. Who is this man, Mr. Kool Poirot? Mr. Poirot, Mrs. Nicolettis. The famous private detective. A private detective? Here? In my home? The students find that interesting. You have nothing against it, do you? No. Why should I have anything against it? Against Mr. Poirot? You're coming too, aren't you, Patricia? Oh, yes. I'm coming too. No, no, no. You don't understand, Celia. Look, I could murder someone if I wanted to, but only if I didn't have a motive. How can I understand that if you don't even explain it to me, Colin? But I've already explained it to you. Have you heard of the great detective who's coming to us soon? Yes, well, I just met Mahabat. That's why Colin's in such a hurry, I'm afraid. I just want to say that murderers are caught because they have a motive. Leave the motive out and they become invisible. That's a terrible thought. Do we still have milk or was it stolen from us too? I drank it all. Well, since the round of introductions is over, serve the soup. I'm hungry. Will you tell us something about crimes, Mr. Poirot? After dinner, yes. That is indeed my intention. So Colin thinks he might be a good detective. Or a criminal. Why not? If you could understand as much of the psychology of a crime as I do and you could hide it, then the police would never catch you. You get scared. Yes, indeed. But that's wrong. Why? Because these little gray cells perceive everything. The errors committed by the perpetrator are the key. They open the door to psychology and also to the solution. I think Colin is right. Enjoy your meal, Mr. Poirot. We'll have enough time for conversations later. The strict lady doesn't say a word. What is your real motive for visiting us, sir? Really, Len. I beg you. You organized this meal with Mr. Poirot and all the other inhabitants. You visited us because you wanted to investigate, didn't you? Nobody was murdered here. No. He's here because of the theft. Am I right? Oui. That is indeed the reason for my appearance, mademoiselle. Well, I knew it. Either Mr. Poirot or the police. We had to do something. Yes, but what can they do? Drag us into the shadows? Non, non, non, non, non. But I'll start by returning a lost item. S'il vous plaît, Miss Lemmon. Miss Lemmon is not bad. That's my shoe. My lost shoe. How did you do that? Do you have my lighter and my stethoscope? Where did you find it, Mr. Poirot? Ah, mademoiselle Patricia. You were the one who lost this diamond ring. Yes, but I found it again. In my soup. And the soup was served in the same way as this evening? Yes. To hell with the ring. What about the shoe? Miss Lemmon. I was following Mr. Poirot's instructions. I picked him up this afternoon at the London Transport Office. How did you know he was there? It was very easy for him, mademoiselle. A shoe. You can't wear it and you can't sell it. The easiest way to get rid of it is... To leave it in the bus or in the train. Oui, c'est ça. I took it and I was in the right place. The shoe was found again in bus number 42. And this bus goes, as far as I know, directly to... This bus goes to the hospital. Ah, that makes sense. I study medicine. I take the bus every day. Come on, Len. You're not the only one. I take this bus, too. I work in the hospital pharmacy. We all take this bus. It doesn't prove anything. In your opinion, Mr. Chapman, you all could have done it. Again, everyone is suspicious. Our little Belgian will find the bad guy at the end of the case, as always. No more diamonds. This is going to take a long time. This man, Poirot... He's dangerous. He can't do anything to us. We're going to continue as usual. Ice-cold calculation, paired with uncertainty. That's how it should be. A little later, in the tea room. Mr. Poirot, I'm the thief. I stole the things. No, you're not a thief, Celia. That's not true. I'm terribly sorry. She can't do anything about it. It's a disease. No way for the police. Ah, you think you have a mental disorder called kleptomania. Yes, yes. I never wanted to steal anything, but somehow I couldn't help it. Celia will return all the things. All except the bracelet and the lighter. Unfortunately, I threw these things away. But I will replace them. And what about the stethoscope, mademoiselle? Where did you get that? No, I don't have a stethoscope. I would never steal something so expensive, sir. But you stole the diamond ring from mademoiselle Patricia. Yes. But it was an accident. I gave it back when I realized its worth. Celia told me everything after you left. I think that was very brave of her. Mademoiselle. For which of these thefts were you not responsible? Be honest, please. I didn't steal Lennon's backpack and I didn't cut it open. I'm sure it was someone else. Not the light bulb, or the borax powder. Very well. I hope you are satisfied, Mr. Poirot. I will write to Mrs. Hubbard and apologize to her and everyone else. Don't worry. From now on, I will take care of you. Mademoiselle. What you did was very good. So no word to the police. As far as you are concerned, mademoiselle, non. I thank you, Mr. Poirot. After talking to you, I feel better. Mademoiselle Austin, Monsieur McNabb, au revoir. Listen to this. Thank you for your like. So you were with the famous Monsieur Poirot today. Yes. He was very nice to me. You were all so nice. I didn't forget that. I beg you, Celia. Colin explained it to you. It's not your fault and you didn't do anything to anyone. And what about my backpack? It wasn't cheap. But I wasn't, Len. And I don't have a stethoscope. I told you... Who stole it? I can't tell you that. But I know who it was and I talked to them and they promised to admit it. Here, Celia. Thank you. You're welcome. Would you like a coffee? No, thank you, Colin. Office, Inspector Jeb. Jeb here. Please come to the station immediately, sir. They're waiting for you. Good, I'm on my way. On the spot, Jeb meets Poirot and wonders... Chief Inspector, I left as soon as I found out. Are you okay, Chief Inspector Jeb? What? Yes, I'm fine, thank you. Let's go in. Please, Miss Lemont. When did the police get here? The police! In my respectable home! A scandal! Please, Mrs. Nicolettis. I'm afraid this is a case for the police, Mrs. Nicolettis. Poirot! You! It's all your fault! You just come here, scare my students with your accusations and now you see the result! Come, Mrs. Nicolettis. I'll take you upstairs. Let me go! Come, please, Mrs. Nicolettis. What does this detective want with my house? Shut up! This paper is normally used for a drug. This is not. Morphine? That's right. So, Lecilia Austin under kleptomania. She gave it to him, and that. Yes. Was it perhaps suicide? The drug was exchanged with the poison and there is no farewell letter. No, I don't think so, Chief Inspector. But who would want to kill her? And why? Poirot! Look at this. You have a fire ladder. You can get to the room next door by the ladder. And he lives there? I think this American student lives there, Mademoiselle Sally Finch. Mademoiselle Celia had, so to speak, a room with a view. I don't think Mademoiselle Celia was kleptomaniac. What was she then? That's my personal opinion, but behind her kleptomania, there was a purpose. What purpose? Let's assume Mademoiselle Celia had feelings, strong feelings for a man whose passion was psychology, but this man ignored her. Ah, you're playing on what you said was his name, Colin McNabb? Yes. Let's see what he has to say to us. I see. You mean to say that Celia only did it to impress me? Unfortunately, she was not intelligent enough to come up with such an idea. But she felt drawn to her, didn't she, Colin? She was a fascinating case. Was it suicide? No, Mr. McNabb. We assume she was poisoned. Poisoned? With morphine. Morphine? But that's not possible. Why not? I mean, no one would have a reason to kill her, not Celia. You're talking about a murder without a motive. Well, I don't know. Mr. Colin, were you at Mademoiselle Celia's on the eve of her death? Yes. Do you remember the events of her funeral? She said something strange. It had to do with the the thefts. She said she knew who stole Len's backpack. But she didn't tell you who it was. No. She said she had spoken to someone, but... I beg you, for God's sake. Colin, this can't be true. I just heard it. Who are you? Nigel Chapman. I live here. You're a student? Yes. How did this happen? You say she was poisoned, Nigel. With morphine. Poisoned? I didn't think so. It's just as you suspected. Do you know who could have killed Miss Austin? No. It wasn't a suicide, was it? Mr. Nigel, who was in this apartment yesterday? All of us. Except Patricia. She came later. Someone was in her room, and put the poison in her sleeping drink. And indeed, something is missing. I don't understand. Yes, we're missing a bottle of morphine. When was the morphine stolen? I can't say. We don't use the substance very often. It could have been used at any time since the inventory... But access to the pharmacy is limited. Of course. Cilia, two women who work here, and of course me, have access. And the doctors? Yes, some doctors use the pharmacy as a passage. But I know them. Could Cilia Austin have stolen the poison herself? That may be, yes. But Cilia was extremely reliable. I don't think so. Did she have friends? Was she ever visited by anyone? Yes, a young man did come here often. But I know him. He's a medical student and works here. And what's his name? Bateson. You must have heard. He was just delivered. You know Sir Arthur? No, but I study politics. Sir Arthur was always like a hero to me. He changed British politics. Why do you ask? Just asking. Mademoiselle, you know that Cilia Austin is dead. Yes, I was just at the Hickory Road. Mrs. Hubbard told me. It's terrible. Tell me, Mademoiselle, you didn't go into the apartment last night? No, I was out. I came very late. You didn't notice anything that could help us? Oh, I should mention one thing. I don't know if it's important. When I came back, someone just came out of the window and onto the fire escape. Onto the fire escape? I don't want to put anyone in trouble. Miss Lane. Jab, Mrs. Finch hears. In a low voice. I don't know who said that, but it's complete nonsense. I was in the room all night. But your room has access to the fire escape. So what? I wasn't anywhere. Mademoiselle... Shh! Mademoiselle Sally, are you close friends with other students? With a few. I was on vacation with Len Bates. One week in Amsterdam. But that was before the backpack was stolen. That happened on the day we arrived. Then the police came. The police? That's right. They checked the apartments because of a murder case. That's routine when we suspect a young foreigner. But that's strange, don't you think? While the police were there, the backpack was stolen. And the light bulbs. That was on the same day. Ah. Mademoiselle Sally, you're here because you got a scholarship. Yes, that's right. And, um... you're learning, I see. Jean Kietz. That's right. That's my speciality. Ah, I'll try it. And like a dead lady, so thin and pale, she wanders ahead, covered in fabric, silk-soft. Ah, you know Jean Kietz? A little later, Jeb and our little bellboy get into a fight. She's interesting, this Mademoiselle Sally. What about the fireman was a lie. And not just that. She pretends to be a specialist for Jean Kietz. But what I quoted... Was from Percy Shelley. Ah. Miss L'Humore Gard. Ah, a picture-pretty dress. Did you cut it yourself? Yes. What an unusual pattern. Yes. The good Madame Jabb hasn't returned yet? No. I thought so. Yes, me too. Well, I have a good idea. Would you like to have dinner with me tonight, Chief Inspector? Well, I could have a good meal again. If I may remind you, the drive back to Eiselworth is quite a long way, Mr. Poirot. Quite right. The easiest way would be that the Chief Inspector lives with me until his wife is back. In the evening, Poirot invites us to dinner. He cooked himself an old Belgian dish. This is my assiette de saveur. That was a specialty of my mother when I was still a young student. S'il vous plait, Miss L'Humore. That's very nice of you, Mr. Poirot. Chief Inspector. What kind of thing is that in the bathroom, Poirot? What? It's like a... footbath. The bidet? Ah, a bidet. It has a spring in the middle. What's that for? Ah, it doesn't mean anything. The beam almost went into my eye. It would be best not to touch it, Chief Inspector. It's broken. I'll get the food. I have to say, I'm looking forward to it, Miss L'Humore. You look like a man who urgently needs something to eat. This thing in the bathroom, Miss L'Humore. Please don't bother, Miss L'Humore, with the inconsistencies of our sanitary facilities. And now, my assiette de saveur. Voila! The wonderful meal is interrupted by a telephone call from Scotland Yard. A murder, a corpse. Inspector Chapp and Poirot are needed. The stab went right into the heart. You want to say with medical precision, Chief Inspector? Let me guess. Pitson studies medicine, doesn't he? Yes, indeed. What's going on, Poirot? First, this Celia Austin steals completely useless things. Celia Austin didn't steal the backpack or the light bulbs. No, but someone murdered her. And then this Mrs. Nicolettis, the owner of the apartment, who didn't want anything to do with it. I never thought it would come to this. First Celia, and now... as if the world were going crazy, Mr. Poirot. Calm down, Florence. Mr. Poirot will sort it out. You'll see. What can you tell us about your employer? Not much. I think she was a lonely person. And I also think... it's a bit mean to say something like that, but she drank secretly. With the many bottles she has in her apartment, it's no secret. Didn't she say she had other businesses? Yes, one or two student clubs and a business around the corner. What kind of business? She sells travel bags. Many of our students buy backpacks. Backpacks? Oh, yes, of course. The backpack of Mr. Leonard Betzen. The one that was cut open. Yes. On that day, the police station in the École des Roses was also red. Sir? Excuse me. Yes? Good. Two students want to talk to you. Yes. I feel like a traitor, sir. We all wanted... S'il vous plaît, Monsieur Leonard. Please go on. It was like this. About six weeks ago, we were discussing crimes and murder. We? Excuse me. We all. Len, Pat, Celia, me. The whole apartment. Colin suddenly had the idea how the perfect murder would take place. And now this is happening. Yes, he told me that too. And you remember? Yes, at first we were fooling around. But then someone asked him how he would commit the murder. Colin said, with poison. With poison? Yes. I said, you don't get poison that easily. But Colin was of a different opinion. Then we made a bet. What kind of bet? Colin said he could get enough poison within a week to kill someone with it. You mean he stole the poison? It was morphine tartrate. He got it a week later. We didn't believe him at first. It was white powder. I checked. It was actually poison. And this poison. What happened to it after your bet? Colin kept it for a few days. We were all nervous. But then he flushed the toilet. Did you see him while he was doing it? Yes. He did it in front of our eyes. Do I understand this correctly? Colin McNabb stole a dose of morphine tartrate just because he wanted to be right? Yes. It's not as bad as it looks, Inspector. I think you're mistaken. I just wanted to prove my thesis. Nothing more. Tell me about Mr. Colin. Where did you get the poison? Isn't that obvious? From the pharmacy in the hospital. Celia Austin gave it to you. No. I stole it myself. Then it wasn't Miss Celia Austin's doing. No. As Celia says. What happened to the stethoscope? I hid it there. I'll get him a new one. What's in there? I didn't break anything. That was theft. And thus a crime. I got rid of the poison. Ask Nigel or Len. They were both there. But you kept it for at least a week, didn't you? Yes. And everyone in the apartment knew you had the poison? Yes, but... One moment. You think someone stole it and exchanged it for something else? Oui. With the borax powder, which is completely harmless. Because this was also stolen from the pharmacy. A sleepless night lies behind our little Belgian After he's done his morning toilet and had a little breakfast, he goes out on the street. Good morning, sir. Bonjour. If you don't mind, I'd like to buy a backpack. A backpack, sir? Oui. Would you like the backpack for yourself? Oh, no, no, no, no. It's for my nephews. That would be the luxury model. The Imperial, sir. It's very robust, but light. C'est vrai. And this model is very popular, monsieur? No, sir. Our best-selling model would be this one here. It's relatively light and can hold a lot. And it costs half of the Imperial. Eh bien. Then I'll buy it for you. My assistant will pack it for you. Bonjour, Chief Inspector. How did you sleep last night? Not at all. After Mr. Colin McNabb's arrest, you must have had a wonderful night's sleep. I couldn't sleep because of your heating. But it was completely turned on, Monami. That's what it was about. Do you see these headlines? The Jarrow March, yes. It says Sir Arthur Stanley is too ill to meet. You once said that you had met him. Yes. Was that because of a police case? Yes. Sir Arthur Stanley may be a hero to people. The King of the Unemployed. Ten years ago, he murdered his wife. What? Yes. And the process was astonishingly similar to the case here. What could be the motive for Sir Arthur's murder? A lot of money. Lady Stanley was already quite wealthy. And he got everything. Of course, Andy Cott knew that. And what did you do? I couldn't do anything. I wasn't allowed to go there. I couldn't prove what I heard. I was fired. Hmm. You know they can throw me out for that. Len, that's important to me. Yes, of course. You and Sir Arthur Stanley. People will think you're related or something. I've read all his books. I know his whole life story. I have to meet him. Just once. I'll give you exactly five minutes, Pat. Then it's over. Thank you, Len. You've done so much for this country. The labor movement. Your resistance against Mussolini. You're helping the Gero to march. Bauduin won't welcome you. Certainly not. He's too afraid. You are their voice, Sir. You are called. They need you. I can't. You'll get well again. They need you. Yes, yes. Mr. Poirot? Mr. Poirot! Pardon, Miss Lemont. Good day. Is everything all right, Mr. Poirot? Yes, thank you, Miss Lemont. I just found out that for a cut in a backpack you need a lot of strength. Et voilà. What is it? The stitch pattern, Miss Lemont. You cut right through it. Mm-hm. And what do you see between the inner seam and the outer fabric? I see nothing at all. Aha. Precisely. That's exactly the point. Merci. I would prepare dinner for you and the chief inspector if that's what you want, Mr. Poirot. Merci beaucoup. The chief inspector has a very healthy appetite, Miss Lemont. I think so too, Mr. Poirot. Merci. Half past seven, as you're used to. I'll be back in an hour. And if Poirot says an hour, he'll be back in an hour. My name is John Kerstemann. Forgive the inconvenient transport. You mean the attack on Open Street? You would have disturbed an almost six-month investigation. And on top of that, you put the life of my agent at risk. Mademoiselle Sally. Who? You were never in danger. I was aware that Mademoiselle Sally had lied to me. Why? You didn't tell me much about Kietz. Kietz? Tell me, Mr. Kerstemann, your investigation is aimed at smugglers, isn't it? Exactly. Diamonds. From Amsterdam and Paris. We know who takes them here, but we don't know who brings them here. And that's our top priority. And that's why you work in the e-curie shop in red. Yes. To spy on the students who want to go on a trip. We assume that the students bring the diamonds. The problem is, we don't know who. I would say that the young people themselves don't know. I don't understand that. With the backpacks that arrive in the e-curie shop in red, something is wrong. First of all, they are far too cheap. For this reason, I bought a backpack and found something. What? Under the lining, there is a hidden compartment that is specially sewn. You can hide any amount of diamonds in it without the owner noticing. You mean the diamonds are smuggled in by innocent people without their knowledge? Exactly. Leonard Bateson also had a backpack like this, Mr. Poirot. It was stolen and cut open. Yes. And I believe that this incident led to the two catastrophes. To the death of Celia Austin and Mrs. Nicolettis. Yes. Mr. Poirot, there is something you should know about Mrs. Nicolettis. Ah, you believe that Mrs. Nicolettis organized the smuggling? We don't believe it. We know exactly. It's your cousin, Yorgos Nicolettis, who buys the goods. C'est parfait. Madame Nicolettis runs a backpack shop. And through the clubs and the student housing, she had contact with many young people. But why was she killed? Because she knew the identity of the murderer of Mlle. Celia Austin. And murder was not part of her plan. And she panicked and said she would go to the police. Mm-hm. Is Mr. Colin McNabb still in custody? He stole the poison and kept it. And he had this fixed idea of ​​a murder without a motive. So you believe that Mr. McNabb murdered Celia Austin as part of an experiment? Oh, the psychologists. They don't have all the cups in the closet themselves. To your health, Chief Inspector. Don't you have a nice cold beer, Poirot? No, no, no, no. Besides, the syrup from the banana is better for the appetite. To your health. Cheers. Well, are you hungry, Chief Inspector? You can say that out loud, Miss Lemmon. All day long I've been looking forward to a healthy meal. Then I'll take you up on that. What's that? Sea-tongue fillet, stewed in milk, with steamed vegetables. To be honest, you can't cook much healthier. Sea-tongue, Miss Lemmon? Lemon-sea-tongue. Who's going to want anything from us at this time? Would you please open, Miss Lemmon? As you wish, Chief Inspector. Well, it's very nice of you to take me in, Poirot. But I thought... You're welcome, Chief Inspector. The pleasure is mine. And I insist that you stay with me... ...until the good Madame Jabb finally returns. Oh, I'm starving. Mr. Poirot. Chief Inspector. Monsieur Najet. I'm sorry for the late interruption, but I have to tell you something. No problem. Miss Lemmon. Please sit down, Monsieur Najet. Mr. Poirot, you've locked up the wrong man. Ah. I didn't lock up Monsieur Collin, Monsieur Najet. Why are you saying that, Mr. Chapman? I'm not saying that. I was just at Pat's. Patricia Lane. She knows who deposited the poison at Collin's. She says it was deposited there? Yes, and she knows who it was. Or was it? She's not telling me. She thinks I wouldn't believe her. Why isn't she coming here herself? She's afraid. Extremely afraid. Why didn't she just come along? I told her she's in danger if she finds out. It's my fault. I should have just persuaded her. Please don't blame yourself, Mr. Chapman. You didn't tell Nigel Chapman what you knew. But maybe someone else did. Sir! Oh, mon dieu. The corpse looks horrible. Who else was in the house, Mr. Bateson? No idea. Mar Hubbard was upstairs, and I think Valerie was somewhere, too. Tell me, Monsieur Leonard, when was the last time you saw Mademoiselle Patricia? Strangely, it was this morning. She was in the hospital. And do you know why? Of course. She wanted to see Sir Arthur Stanley. Stanley? Could you help her? Yes. I sent her in for five minutes. She admired this man so much. She wanted to meet him once. Chief Inspector. Without a doubt, she got the photograph of Sir Arthur Stanley. Wait a minute, Poirot. You're not saying this has anything to do with Arthur Stanley, are you? But you said it yourself. There are certain similarities between the death of Lady Stanley and the murder of Celia Austin. Then tell me, is he on your list of suspects? Sir Arthur Stanley? That can't be. The next morning. A wonderful sunny day, like not many in England. Bonjour, Chief Inspector. Vous avez bien dormi? Oh, pardon. Did you sleep well? Not for a minute, if you really want to know. At some point, I cooled off in this children's bathtub. In the bidet? May I sit down? I'm starving. Non, non, non. You are hungry for the truth, Chief Inspector. But don't strain yourself. The little gray cells didn't sleep either. And this case is now solved. Oui. Please leave the room at once. He can't be the murderer of Patricia Lane. He was in prison. And what about Nigel Chapman? He was with us. Oh. Excuse me, Chief Inspector, but... There is a grease stain on your tie. But that's my only one. I'll give you one of Mr. Poirot's ties. No, no, thank you. I'll take care of it. Wait, do you also have eggs with bacon? Non. Already so early in the morning? Non. We don't have time for eggs with bacon. Ah, our little Belgian knows the solution. And as always, he makes it very, very exciting. It's no secret who stole the most things in the Ikoriro 26. And why that happened. Mademoiselle Celia Austin was, according to her own statement, with Monsieur Colin McNabb. She claimed to be a kleptomaniac, but she only wanted to get the attention of Monsieur Colin McNabb with this affair. I still think it's nonsense. Me too. Celia would never have thought of it alone, sir. Non. I think someone brought her up. Someone else? Who? The same person who caused the reappearance of the diamond ring by Mademoiselle Patricia Lane. But that could have been anyone. He was on the soup plate. Non, non, non, non, non. I report what I observed that evening. Madame Abbott prepared a soup for us and served it in the bowl. I found that only two people could have deposited the diamond ring in the soup of Mademoiselle Valerie. Madame Abbott and Mademoiselle Valerie herself. And what if it was me? Then Celia Austin gave you the diamond ring in advance. You're right. What? Oh, Colin. Celia followed you like your own shadow, but you didn't appreciate her at all. So I told her, become his patient. A case he can study. I'm sure you'll have more luck. And that worked. Oui. Listen to me, Bisto. Thank you for your like. It was only the disposal of worthless items planned. Yes, but then she stole the ring from Patricia's room. I immediately recognized the value of the ring and wanted to call the police. Then Mademoiselle Celia gave you the ring to get it back from the owner. Exactly. The trick with the soup was my idea, though. That's all fine and good, Mr. Poirot. But we still don't know the murderer of Celia and Mrs. Nicolettis. Be patient, Monsieur Chapman. Je vous en prie. On your visit to me, Mademoiselle Celia Osteen took responsibility for some of the thefts. In the I.C.O.R.I.R.O.D. 26. S'il vous plait, Miss Lemont. She gave the theft of the shoe, the armband, the silk scarf, the lighter, the cookbook and the ring. We can also exclude the stethoscope. Because it was taken from Monsieur Colin. What? Len, I'll explain later. And I'll pay you for the damage. He stole it brilliantly to get the poison out of the pharmacy. That means there are only three left. Oui. The last three. And at this point I would like to introduce you to Monsieur Casterman, who has been investigating your home for several months. He's investigating us? But why? I was entrusted with the task of investigating a smuggler gang. And I had the strong suspicion that Mrs. Nicoletti was involved. Mrs. Nick? Ah, there must be a mistake. That's certainly not a mistake. It's true. Sally? I work for Mr. Casterman. Sally. I'm sorry, Nigel. Mademoiselle Sally left the home above the fire stairs. She wanted to share her observations with Monsieur Casterman. And what was smuggled? Diamonds. For the smuggling operation, a certain kind of backpack was needed. This backpack had a sewn-off, hidden compartment, which not even the owner knew existed. And this backpack triggered a chain reaction that led to the tragic death of Mademoiselle Cilia Ostip. Cilia assumed that the perpetrator she observed was also responsible for the other thieves. You're right. When she died that night, she said that the truth would come to light. Now we come to the borax powder. It was harmless borax powder that was thrown away. Because the morphine had already been exchanged before. By someone who knew that he would use it soon. But you found the poison in Colin's room. Yes, but after the death of Mademoiselle Cilia Ostip. The morphine tortoise was hidden in his room because Monsieur Colin wanted to close the case. I'm sorry, Mr. Poirot, but I can't stand this. Who did this? We have two crimes against you. The smuggling and the murder. He turns to Miss Valerie. Your work in fashion allows you to travel regularly, Nespa. You have an amazing knowledge of diamonds, Mademoiselle. For example, you could say exactly how much the diamond ring of Mademoiselle Patricia is worth. No, you're wrong. You're wrong. Leave Valerie alone. But I'm not a murderer. No, not you alone. No. You are not a murderer for me and you did not act alone, Mademoiselle. You had an accomplice? Oh, yes, Chief Inspector. Madame Nicolettis headed the smuggling ring, as Monsieur Casterman suspected. But she didn't hire just one young man for it. Who else was there? Through the third murder, we got a little clue. The hair under the fingernail of the deceased. What color did it have? It was red. You think I know? I wasn't even close to her. That doesn't matter. Patricia Lane was beaten from behind. So it was impossible for her to reach the attacker's hair. And who was it now? I already told you, Monsieur Collin. Often it's just small errors of a criminal that become the key to his thoughts. And even in the present case, that's how it works. The Czar in the Hand of the Dead was the work of a clever, daring murderer. And this murderer has a secret with him all his life that he wants to hide at all costs. For this reason, his actions become more and more daring and dangerous. And he does nothing wrong. Not even a murder. But who, Poirot? Who are you talking about? I'm talking about the young man in this photograph. Which photograph? I found this photograph yesterday at the dead Patricia Lane. She was the reason why she had to die. Now he's fixing Monsieur Chapham in the way you fix a murderer. Do you deny that you were Nigel Stanley? Oh, I beg you, Mr. Poirot. It's not a crime to mention his name. No, Monsieur Stanley, it wasn't a crime. Are you out of your mind, or have you forgotten? No. When you were with me, Patricia Lane was already dead in her apartment. I never wanted to go as far as he did. Nobody was supposed to die. That was his plan. Shut up, you stupid cow. I'm sorry, but I just can't be jealous anymore. He has nothing in his hand, he's just talking. He can't prove it. Yes, he can. I'll tell you everything, Mr. Poirot. With one sentence, the young man jumps through the window into the street and disappears. After about an hour, the people of Scotland Yard can arrest him. A week later, in the cemetery hall of Whitechapel, London. We have come together to bury a man whose tragic death has ended his life. A life that had promised them much that they believed in him. But in their long search for justice, Sir Arthur will live on. Monsieur Endicott. Mr. Poirot. Have you thought about my proposal? I have. I have nothing to say against it. I give you this, Chief Inspector. What is this? It's a confession, isn't it? Exactly. The confession of this man, Nigel Stanley, who murdered his mother, Lady Stanley. He poisoned her. Merci, Monsieur. He murdered her? Don't be so shocked, Ma. But why? I stole her money. Quite often. It wasn't just once. She said she would go to the police if she caught me again. I wanted to avoid that. She would have really locked me up. And your father knew that you did it? He had me write a confession. If my name should ever reappear in the context of a crime, whatever it is, he would hand over my confession to the police. And that's why you never wanted to reveal your true identity. And now we are back where the story began. Whitehaven Mansions. After I was allowed to live with you for a week, Poirot, this is an invitation to a meal, at least. So that you can have something decent again. I mean, you get a decent meal here. And the good Madame Jabb is coming back today? Yes, around three o'clock. Here you go. That's what I call a decent meal. This is mashed potatoes. These are peas. We call it pea mousse. You like that. And this is something delicious. Ox tail bullet. Tail? Ox tail. I also have a really thick sausage for you. Sausage? Yes, because I was so hungry, I... That's tragic, Chief Inspector. No, it's fine. Unfortunately, I can't eat this wonderful meal. What? Why? Because I'm allergic to the ox tail. You have an allergy? Yes. I don't know what it's called in English, but in Belgium it's known as the phobia of the ox tail. I've never heard of it. I'm sorry, Chief Inspector. I should have warned you. For those who can enjoy it, it's a dream. Whatever. There's still something left of my sausage. Listen up, presents... The Belgian. A little man with a big combination fork.