DER BELGIER ( 37 ) ÄGYPTEN #krimihörspiel #retro SASCHA DRAEGER KLAUS HÖHNE

The days are getting shorter. Outside it's getting uncomfortable. Time for a head cinema. Welcome to Hör mal zu! And thank you for your like. Bonjour, dear friends from the little Belgium here on Hör mal zu, the channel for real, listening games and retro friends. Today my egg-shaped head is in Egypt. There is a case to solve there. Come with me. Let's start. The story begins in Chiltern Hills, South England, in a modern country house. Just to be clear, darling, I'm engaged. So that's it, and with whom? His name is Simon Doyle, and he's big and young and so wonderfully uncomplicated. He worked in the city and now, well, yes, he was fired and he doesn't have a job anymore. Linette, I'll die if I can't marry him. I'll just die. But that was hard for you. I think you need a real estate agent for this house. And then I thought of Simon, oh darling, he would be ideal for it. He loves the country and knows a lot about big countries. And if he doesn't meet your expectations, you can throw him out at any time. Say yes, Linette, please. I knew you wouldn't disappoint me. We want to travel to Egypt in the coming weeks. And I will go with the man I love along the Swingen Alley. Is there anything more romantic? Bring him here, then I'll take a look at him. To be honest, he's already here. What? In case you say yes, you will idolize him. A few weeks later, the wedding was celebrated. The wedding of Linette and Simon Doyle. A few weeks later. The newly founded travel agency Thomas Cook Limited invites all travelers to the upcoming Nile cruise Karnak together with a small soiree. Our little Belgian is also on board, because he urgently needs air change. But here, too, Poirot is recognized and addressed. Monsieur Poirot? I didn't want to scare you. No, no, no, no. But I absolutely have to talk to you. To your services, madame. You know who I am? Oh yes, I know exactly who you are. I want to get straight to the point. I am the victim of an unbearable harassment. Harassment? Maybe you can explain that a little more precisely. I'll keep it short. Before I met my husband, he was engaged to a friend of mine, Jacqueline de Belfort. They didn't get along at all and he broke up with her. She, I'm afraid I have to say, didn't hurt him. And now she's following us, out of sheer malice. As I heard, you are here in the Flitterwochen. That's right. First she showed up in Venice, then in Brindisi and then in Cairo, and now here, too. It's impossible to allow her to continue behaving like this. But this is her right. She shouldn't have run away like she just did. No, but she didn't threaten him or do anything to him. She is clearly very offended, Madame. The little Belgian promises to talk to Jacqueline de Belfort. Did you have the opportunity to talk to Jacqueline? With Miss de Belfort? Yes. And could you reason with her? No. No, unfortunately not. Women with decency would never do something like that. She makes a fool of herself with it and really steals Lynette's last nerves. You too, Monsieur? Oh, I could twist her neck. Trust me, Monsieur, I have a plan. I will tell Lynette and I to spend the next few days here. But I have booked us for the cruise on the Nile, which starts tomorrow morning. Under a false name, of course. Of course. It will look like we are going on an excursion. The maid will take care of the luggage. We will board at the last moment. And luck is on our side. Until Jacqueline realizes that we are not coming back, it's already too late. So, what do you say? A good trick? She is not stupid, Monsieur. You will see. I will also go on this cruise. Really? Yes. Oh, but not because of us, I hope. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. I always plan my plans in advance. That's the only way to get something done, isn't it? Yes, probably. Who is this gentleman? Andrew Pennington, Lynette's faithful servant. We met him by chance in Cairo. He almost beat him when he found out she was married. Would you like to join us? No, no, no, no, no, no, no. But still, thank you very much. Oh, it's heavenly, darling. Darling! I thought you were staying at the hotel. It's a shrine. I'm sure we'll have some royal fun. Some time later, at the cocktail bar. Ah, Monsieur Poirot. Madame, Monsieur Ellerton. Ah, Monsieur Poirot. Maybe you can put some names on the passenger list. Dr. Bessner, for example. Over there, madame. Ah, yes. The fat one with the bald head and the bismuth beard. A German, without a doubt. Austrian, I think. A Bosch, in any case. In the exit procedure, the young gentleman, who looks rather sad, must be Mr. Ferguson. Oui, a progressive thinker, I've heard. Probably a great Bolshevik. Oh, that's someone I could get excited about. Mother! A strong-willed child. And incredibly rich, like most of them here. The next day, the travellers go to the Valley of the Kings. Simon Doyle and his newly-married wife visit the Sphinxes. I never thought about it. Maybe they were the pendant to our garden gnomes. A nice try, Simon, but you missed the target by a long way. A Sphinx was, to be precise, a monster from Greek mythology. With the head of a woman, you see, and the body of a lioness. And she asked, Aren't you interested at all? She posed a riddle to the travellers. A few hours later, Lynette turns to her business. And this is the rental contract for the apartment on Fifth Avenue. Good. Yes, just sign below. It's all right. Sure, but I always like to read everything. My goodness. I've never read a legal document. That was very lenient of you. It's really uncomplicated, my dear. It's all legal jargon. I just sign. But that could be quite risky. Don't you think? Darling, if you go on like this, we'll sit here all day. Shall we do that later? That's a very good idea. It's getting terribly hot up here. Where have you been hiding for so long? I'm sorry, Cousin Mary, but I couldn't find it. Oh, you're hopeless. In some respects, that's true. Of course. You forgot your magazine. What sense does such a person make? And this rich thing. It writes a few documents and then has to rest because it's so terribly hot. What makes you different from the others, Mr. Ferguson? I'm just more critical. And above all, I don't get upset like a fowl. Why exactly are you here, Mr. Poirot? I'm on vacation. And you? Oh, my God, I have a fan on board. Miss Otterborn. A terrible person. Writer for erotic art. My God, my God. That's because of that schlingel. I don't seem to be able to see this constant up and down. I think it would be best if you... Where is this noise coming from? ...if you went back in, Madam. I'm suffering here, hour after hour. I hope we don't go down, Mr. Poirot. Just the thought of shellfish swarming around... It's a little too dangerous for you out here. Yes, yes. You could be washed overboard. And my life would end in Neptune's arms. Overseas with Carfunkel like an old wreck. You must have been pleasantly surprised to meet Lynette Doyle and find out that she's married. Yes, I was. To be precise, she had written to me about it. But I had already left New York. On the Carmenic. Ah, the Carmenic. Yes, yes. Then it was a good thing that you had all your documents with you. That doesn't concern you at all. But that being said, I sent them to you after the meeting. Shortly before leaving the Carnac, an English gentleman enters the boat. Colonel Reyes. How are you, how are you? Colonel Reyes, I can't believe my eyes. How are you? What a surprise to see you here. I've solved a few problems here. Restless locals, occasional attacks. Something like that. You look really confused. Merci. You urgently have to tell me the name of your tailor. Oui. Where is the journey going? Up the river, just like you. Like me? But you are certainly sailing with a steam ship. Under normal circumstances, yes. But when I found out that my old friend Poirot was nearby, I thought it would be more enjoyable. Because then something exciting always happens. I think it has already begun, madame. It's gorgeous. Ah, Miss Robson. Where have you been? You're out of breath. And those spots there. Oh dear, I'm sorry, Cousin Mary. I was just out for a moment. What did you do to my Stola? Maybe she's in the cabin. What? She can't possibly be in the cabin. I still had her for dinner and she hasn't touched me since. Isn't that right, Dr. Bessner? Yes, Miss von Scheuder. She was lying there on the chair and now she's gone. I thought you took her with you. I'm sorry, no. She was a gift. From Count von Mecklenburg. Cornelia, come, sit down with me. Oh. Well, did you want to celebrate something? No, no. I just didn't want to go to bed yet. It's such a beautiful evening. Yes, really wonderful. And how did you do for the flutter weeks? Oh, two big g's. Oh no, not for me. He doesn't do anything. Our score, Simon? Excuse me. 120... He doesn't look bad. What do you mean? Oh, I don't know. Attention, we have a man-killing creature in the room. I'm sorry, I'm suddenly very tired. And the sound is getting too unusual for me. Yes, time to go to bed. Are you coming, Simon? I... I just want to have a drink. Good night. Well, then... But honey, you haven't drunk your slumber drink yet. No. We women have to stick together. I was just about to throw up. Thank you. To marriage, love and all that stuff. Tell me everything about yourself. Oh dear. There's not much to tell. I still live at home, in Connecticut, in a small town called Belfield. And this is my first ship trip. And I... I look forward to every minute of it. Go on. I live with my mother. Unfortunately, she's not in very good health right now. She sleeps very badly and... She only eats sporadically. On some days, just a piece of fruit. On other days, she only stirs gooseberry. I'm listening. Yes, yes, we're all ears. I really have to go now. Not yet. I want to hear more. There's nothing left. Oh, please. I love art. And, um... I teach courses and... and... Sounds very exciting. Call the waiter, Simon. It's after midnight. I want a drink. You've had enough. So what? Tension is in the air. I need some fresh air. Yes, it's about time. No! Don't go, Cornelia. Look, Simon is afraid. He's afraid I could tell him my life story. Go to bed, Jackie. Are you afraid of a scene? What do you expect after you've treated me like this? Do you think you'll get away with it unpunished? You're drunk. The threat to kill you, am I serious? Mr. Balfour! I look down on you like a dog. Like the nasty dog you are. Suddenly, Jacqueline has a gun in her hand. She pulls the trigger. The bullet hits Simon Doyle's leg. In great pain and tension, he begs the lady to take Jacqueline to her office and notify the doctor. Let me see. Yes. It doesn't look good. A bone injury. And you've lost a lot of blood. Mr. Ferguson, we have to take him to my office. Now, I'll inject you something so you can sleep. Is Mrs. Doyle informed yet? No. That's until tomorrow. You can't blame Jacqueline. It's my fault. I was in shock. She didn't know what to do. Yes, yes. Maybe she's up to something. You shouldn't leave her alone. It's all right. Ms. Robson is with her. Good. The gun. She can't stay there. Otherwise, she'll find Stuart. I'll get it. She's gone. Are you sure? Yes. She dropped it and fell under a chair. I saw it, but she's not there. Who could have taken it? The next morning. It's pitch black and the mosquitos are buzzing in his office. One of them even sat on his nose. Audrey! My dear Colonel, what a charming morning! Nespa? Unfortunately, someone was shot. Who? Lynette Doyle. A bullet in the head. Last night. The Colonel and Poirot hurry to Lynette Doyle's office. An open shot. Look here. Where the skin is sunk. There was no fight. She was shot in her sleep. Time of death? She's been dead for six hours. But probably no longer than eight. Between twelve and two. May I ask you, Colonel, what gives you the right to make these investigations? The travel agent asked me to take care of this matter until we land in the harbor. I have a certain official reputation, you know. We all keep ourselves available, Colonel. Yes, good. What does that mean? That she... That should be pretty clear, I think. It seems that after her death she had bloodstains on her fingers and the initials of the murderer written on the wall. Jacqueline de Belfort. A young lady who told me a week ago that she would rather have her gun placed on her forehead and gently pushed off. Your wife is probably next door. He is currently in my cabin and is sleeping. He spent the night there, Dr. Bessner? Yes. Oh, you haven't heard yet. What? Is there anything else we should know? That's all. Then she went to Lynette Doyle's cabin and shot her. No, no, no, no. That's impossible. She was pretty hysterical and Doyle said that she could hurt herself. So Miss Robson stayed overnight. Who discovered the crime? Apparently your maid, Miss Bourget. Colonel, my office is at your disposal. Thank you very much. And please be as discreet as possible. We're used to that, old boy. Yes, of course, sir. Well, we have to talk to Doyle. You say he's sleeping? I gave him a very strong opiate. I would suggest that I see him after breakfast to see if I can wake him up. Thank you, doctor. You're welcome. So, at midnight, Mrs. Doyle was still awake. Yes, I accompanied her to her cabin. Who else stayed in the salon? Doyle, Mr. Balfour, Miss Robson and myself. And what did you do there? Mr. Ferguson was in a magazine and I had a stitch work to do. And Mr. Balfour was... You drank? Yes. Like a fish. Once in a while I wanted to withdraw. She wouldn't let me go. It was very uncomfortable for me. Just like Mr. Ferguson, who went out to deck. It was pretty stuffy in there. Then Mr. Balfour pulled out a gun and shot Mr. Doyle in the leg. And I called Mr. Ferguson. Mr. Doyle asked us not to make a scene and when one of the stewards came, Mr. Ferguson told him it was all a game and Mr. Balfour... Yes, she burst into tears and we took her to her cabin. I stayed there while Mr. Ferguson got Dr. Bessner. What time was that? I don't know. Around 8.30 p.m. It was midnight when I finally got to bed. And you're sure Mr. Balfour didn't leave the cabin? Absolutely. Then Mrs. Doyle can't have shot before, let's say, 8.30 p.m. How long were you with her, Mrs. Robson? Oh, all night. She didn't even wake up once. That was probably because of the alcohol. Yes, so far your alibi is perfect. And Mr. Doyle, you said, did he threaten not to leave you alone? Yes, he was worried that she might commit a stupidity. She even said herself she wanted to kill herself. And the gun? What happened with it? She dropped it. And fell under a chair. But when I tried to get her, she disappeared. Disappeared? We're getting closer to the point. Are you sure that Mademoiselle de Belfort didn't take it back before she left the cabin? Yes. Absolutely. And she didn't have a chance to return to get it? After you and Dr. Bessner, Mrs. Doyle, left the cabin, how long did it take for you to return to look for the gun? Five minutes. Five minutes! And at that time, someone took the gun away and that someone wasn't Jacqueline de Belfort. So we can assume that the person involved overheard the events. How do you know that? You said, the gun wasn't to be seen. So hardly anyone could have found it by chance. I didn't see anyone else on deck before the shot. Which side were you on, monsieur? On starboard, I think. If someone had been on backboard, you wouldn't have been able to see him. No, probably not. Apart from Stuart, did anyone else hear the shot? I doubt that. It sounded like the bang of a cork anyway. Did you hear anything else after you went to rest? I think I heard a bang shortly before the shot. What time was that? What does cross interrogation mean in French? Just answer the question. One o'clock, five minutes before, five minutes after. No idea. Is that all? Yes. Thank you, monsieur, for your help. By the way, who exactly are you? Unanswered question. Don't you feel the heat? No. But thank you for your concern. A terribly unruly young man. Oh, one more thing, mademoiselle. Have you met Madame Doyle before this trip? No. Jacqueline de Belfort is allowed to apologize to Simon Doyle for the incident with the gun and his broken knee. You may go in now. Is he all right? Of course he's not all right. They shot him. We now know that it was not Jacqueline de Belfort who shot your wife. And maybe you can remember who it could have been, in your opinion. Did she have any enemies? Was there anyone who did something to her? You see, monsieur Doyle, on the first day of this cruise I had a little meeting with your wife. She was excited. She said she was hated by everyone and that she was surrounded by enemies. She must have exaggerated. But she meant more than just one person. There was a name on the passenger list. And what name was that? She didn't tell me. Your father speculated on the stock market. For some people it was the ruin. First they sold themselves for money and the next day they were in the gutter. There is someone on board whose father was one of those who looked down on Lynette's old man. Oh, she said it was so terrible to be hated by people. Was there anyone who did something to your mistress? No, monsieur. She was popular with everyone. Tell me, monsieur Doyle, did your wife have valuable jewelry with her during this cruise? Her pearls. Do you know anything about these pearls, mademoiselle? She put them on yesterday. Did you see her when she went to bed? Yes, monsieur. Where did she put them? On her bedside table. And were they still there this morning? I didn't pay attention to that. When I came into her cabin, I suddenly noticed madame dead. I looked around. And this morning there were no pearls on her bedside table. Merci. I thought I heard a splash. And someone ran away. Or something else? Do you know what time it was? An hour after I went to bed. Or later. I don't remember. Had you met madame Doyle before? No. But I had heard a lot about her. About one of our relatives, Joanna Southwood. And about Tim, of course. He knew her well. One more question, madame. Did your family have financial trouble because of madame Doyle's father's actions? Oh, no. Our family never had financial trouble. They just fainted. Our poverty was never melodramatic. Numerous voices woke me up. Then someone ran to the ceiling. Then a splash. And you're sure that what you heard wasn't a splash? It could be. I heard the crack of a cork. Maybe it was a splash and the splash was an impression. You know, an association of thoughts. A cracking cork, splashing liquid. And then? Deep sleep. Our little Belgian is investigating the murder weapon again. Was she murdered with it? Oui, mademoiselle. And you think I committed the crime? Mademoiselle von Scheuler is ready to swear that she recognized her there. But I wasn't. I slept like a dead person. Like poor madame Doyle, if you will. A crime of passion, isn't it, monsieur Poirot? This little Jacqueline has southern blood, sneaks over the deck, the gun in the hand. Or Mr. Doyle, confused by the desire, the willless pumping through his veins. Or maybe Miss Robson, the oppressed young woman, just too tragically, simply, driven mad by the near passion of the Flitterböchner. Tell me, monsieur Pennington, do you know of anyone who wished for madame Doyle's death? Well, there would be this madame, this Mr. Belfort. If only they could kill Blick. Thank you very much, monsieur. As you surely know, madame Doyle almost died in front of the Temple of Hathor. Yes, I have heard of it, but was at the time inside the temple. Mr. Doyle mentioned there was someone on board who was after his wife's family. Do you know who that could be? Unfortunately, no. No business transactions of your father that led to the ruin of a competitor? Not that I know of, no. Are you aware that monsieur Pennington lied to us? Did he? He said he was inside the temple when the accident happened. He wasn't. I myself came from there. Mademoiselle, may I speak to you for a moment? I don't want to talk for long, but your mother is drinking, Nespa. You don't have to say anything. When we first met, I immediately realized that you were protecting her against something, and soon I discovered what it was. The secret drinker, with the list of drinkers, with their secret, well-hidden supplies. I believe you discovered your supplies yesterday, and then, when your mother was sleeping, you threw the bottles overboard. I'm right, aren't I? It all started when I stopped selling her books. She became a complete nuisance. It was terrible. I had to keep an eye on her all the time, and she, she started to hate me. Poor Petit. Don't pity me, dear God. People think I'm arrogant. That poor child. She looks terribly unhappy. You shouldn't just shoot people like that. Who does she think she is, Annie Oakley? The French have blood on their hands. We have blood on our hands. And at some point, we'll all pay dearly for it. Shut up and eat. You could have waited for me. I just had something to do. I remember Lady Hooper's diamonds. Yes, well, as usual, mother told it all completely wrong. I wasn't there when they were stolen. Only when it was discovered that the old witch was naked around her big neck. She herself was supposed to have been buried. Joanna, no doubt. Joanna wasn't loaded, mother. May I ask for your attention? Unfortunately, the precious pearl necklace of the deceased Mrs. Doyle has been lost. What? Therefore, we will search the cabins, and I would be grateful to you if you would stay here until we are finished. In addition, I ask for your understanding to allow you to undergo a physical examination. Mon Dieu, for the time, a scandal. A physical examination. Strangely enough, the pearls were back after that. Did you turn her away? No, not me. Cousin Mary. Mademoiselle von Schreuler? She can't do anything about it. It's her little... her own way. That's why I'm here, to keep an eye on her. Where did you find her? She was in her cabins this morning. That's her usual hiding place. Of course, I knew who she belonged to. I wanted to bring her back, but a steward stood guard and told me about the murder. Since then, I'm the most nervous person. You know, the von Schreulers are very sly. The papers must not know about it. You won't, will you? That depends, Miss Robson. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. We will do our best for you, Mademoiselle. Thank you very much. You're welcome. Thank you, monsieur. A fraud, my friend. Let's start the search for the real pearls. As soon as there is peace on the ship, the next corpse will be found. The Zof... As soon as there is peace on the ship, the next corpse will be found. The Zofa of Linnet Doyle will be found stabbed. The death occurred immediately and an hour ago. A stab wound to the heart. With what? Something like that. None of your knives are missing. Do you dare to accuse me of murder of a poor femme de chambre? No, no, I was just thinking aloud. My knives are in full stock. Good, good. And if you would excuse me now. She held this in her hand, the corner of a thousand francs note. What did she say when we took it? It would not be possible for me to hear anything, unless I could not sleep and would have come back up. And then I might have seen how the murderer entered my mistress's cabin or left it. That's exactly how it happened. She returned to the deck. She saw someone who entered the cabin. Precisely, repression. Talk about the scandal, Mademoiselle. We compared lipsticks. What's going on, Monsieur Poirot? The maid of Madame Doyle was murdered. Louise? She saw something she should not have seen. What? A person who entered the cabin of Madame Doyle or left it. Did she say who it was? Mademoiselle Jacqueline, if you would excuse us. Oh, oh, of course. Why didn't you tell me the truth? I did. No. You didn't tell me what you saw last night and you kept silent that you had a revolver in your handbag. That's not true. Madame Otterborn called out to Monsieur Poirot. Monsieur Poirot! Ah, Monsieur Poirot! I have to talk to you. I have important information. I know who murdered Linette Doyle. What? I have evidence to prove it. Please, Madame. You see, my theories about the origins of man have been fully confirmed. In your opinion, the murderer of Louise also killed Linette Doyle, didn't he? I saw this person with my own eyes. You saw the murderer of my wife? It was shortly after lunch. I had an arrangement with a crew member. We met in the attic. When I went in, the door opened and this Louise... Budgett? Budgett was sticking her head out. She seemed to be waiting for someone, but when she saw me, she withdrew. I didn't think anything of it, went on, picked him up from this man and went back. When I did that, I saw someone knock on the door of the maid and go in. Yes? Yes! Yes? Yes! But who was it? Didn't I tell you? It was... Me. Out of nowhere, a shot in the forehead. Madame Otterborn is dead. A witness is dead. The weapon you find later is that of Linette's uncle. Poirot looks for him. Tell me, Mr. Pennington, Linette Doyle was not yet one year old when you married her. She would have turned 21 by next July. And only then would she have had control over her wealth. According to her father's will, Linette should receive the money by the 21st year of her life or marry. And were you consternated by this sudden marriage? Why is that? Because your affairs may not have been quite right yet. What do you mean by that? What you would have noticed as soon as, after your return to England, you would have arranged your financial affairs yourself. Frightened of this prospect, you hurried here and arranged a meeting in Cairo. I didn't! Your letter arrived after I had been on the road with Carmen. Then why does your luggage only contain the labels of Normandy, which expired two days later? No, Mr. Pennington, it is the easiest thing in the world to check the passenger list. I think you came here to find a way out of your mess and you tried unsuccessfully to make Madame Doyle sign certain documents. As you walked along the roof of the temple of the Hathor, you loosened the head of a statue, which then stood very close to its destination. That's crazy! A similar occasion occurred on your way home, when Madame's death was almost certainly attributed to someone else. Don't forget that it was undeniably your weapon with which a woman was shot, who was about to give the identity of the murderer a price. Three murders, Mr. Pennington! You can be sure that the authorities will make a thorough investigation to investigate Madame Doyle's wealth. All right! I hoped I could fix everything before she regulated her own financial situation. And the head of the statue offered itself as a tempting opportunity. That was an accident! I stumbled over my golf club! He reports to Poirot that for years he had betrayed the money of Lynette, that he was playful and that he had lost a lot of money on the stock exchange. Foreign money, the money of Lynette. A tattered gown, a parasitic maid, and an old, rotten box. Who cares if they're dead or not? What kind of unbridled person are you? The future is what's important, not the past. Have you ever thought about the fact that someone could mourn about the poor maid or how desperate Rosalie is? And as far as Lynette Doyle is concerned, she was just too beautiful Unbelievable, isn't it? Did you know that Cornelia's father was practically driven into ruin by Lynette's old man and she mourns her beauty? Unbelievable! Didn't you just say that the future was more important than the past? Touché. Do you want to marry me? What? That goes against all my principles, but I think you should do it. What do you think? The idea alone is disgusting. What do you mean, no? You are insatiable and ungrateful and unkempt and uncomfortable and incredibly, incredibly annoying. But apart from that... Look! I'd say she's definitely in love. I think I'll talk to the old witch. A real happy day for you, isn't it? People die like flies. Good day. To get straight to the point, I'd like to marry your cousin. I've already asked her. Unfortunately, she declined. But don't worry, I'll keep her until she says yes. I can assure you, sir, that I'll take appropriate measures to prevent such harassment. What exactly do you have against me? I'm not that terrible. Anatomically speaking, everything is in place. Everything works. I'm smart, too. Where's the problem? In your social status, Mr. Ferguson. Oh, I see. Cornelia, come here. Have you behaved disgustingly towards this young man? No! Of course not. I'm not good enough for your cousin. In her natural order, I'd be the pendant of a quack. Do you see me as such? That's not it. It's... Yes. Aren't you wonderful? Quite eccentric, I'm afraid, like most of his family. You could have used his title as collateral. He thinks very progressively. Title? Yes. Lord Dalish. Didn't you know that? Oh, he... What do you call it? He's swimming in money, of course, but he became a communist in Oxford. Lord Dalish? I saw him on a photograph in the newspaper. Then I discovered his seal ring with the Dalish weapon. There's no doubt, I assure you. Oh, I owe you a great debt of gratitude, Monsieur Poirot. Ah! Monsieur Ellerton! I'd like to speak to you for a moment. What can I do for you? There's only one thing you can do for me, monsieur. Sit down and listen to me. All right. I'm very good at that. And that I say O-A at the right place. For three years, Scotland Yard has been dealing with a series of jewelry thefts. And every time, the course of action was the same. Yes, the exchange of the original through a forgery. The attention soon turned to Mademoiselle Southwood, because every single victim was either friends with her or at least known to her. And it also became clear that she didn't take the exchange herself. No, no, no. She had a jewelry made a copy of. The exchange then led to another. But the identity of this person remains a mystery. O-A Oui. But in the last few days, certain facts became known that were extremely helpful. Her presence at a party where such a theft took place, her mood about my presence here, and the discovery that the pearls that belonged to Lynette Doyle had disappeared. And what did I discover? The pearls that were stolen and returned were forgeries with which the real chain had been replaced. For Mademoiselle Southwood, it would have been easy to find an opportunity to check the pearls of her friend and have a copy made. Then all that was left was to wait for the right moment until she could take the exchange. Ah bien, and you learn about Lynette Doyle's fleeting weeks in Egypt? Oh, parfait, huh? Mademoiselle Southwood sends you the forgery. Hidden, I guess, in a book package. Our little Belgian puts the pearls back around the neck of the dead. Then he will close one eye. Our big mistake was to assume, how could I assume, that the crime had been committed spontaneously. Not at all. No, it was prepared meticulously, to the last detail. Even the bottle of wine of the Acul Poirot was replaced with a sleeping drug. I was put into a deep sleep so that I could not take part in the events of the evening. Nothing is easier than putting the narcotic into my bottle of wine which is on the table in the dining room. And my sleepiness? Ah bien, it was a hot day. The sleeping drug had to be put into the bottle before dinner at 7.30, but even at this time a pre-conception would not have come to my mind. Our preconceived opinion received the first blow when the revolver was found in the Nile. If we had been right, this revolver would never have been thrown into the Nile. In addition, the pistol which was wrapped around the revolver had been shot through it. But the wound showed the signs of infection and that means that the weapon had been used directly. We knew that the pistol had not been used during the shot on Miss Doyle because there are witnesses who could prove it. Therefore, a third shot had to have been fired from which we knew nothing. One bottle had a cardinal red color, a deep dark red color. The other bottle contained the color rosé, a pinkish color, but the few remaining drops in it were bright red. And instead of the usual smell, the content of this bottle smelled like ink. With this, we had a connection to the handkerchief which had a bright red spot and was wrapped around the revolver. Then something happened that aroused every doubt. When Louise Bourget, the maid, asked her if she had seen anything, she answered But why did she tell us about it? If she knew who the murderer was, she would have told us. Or rather, she wanted to give the murderer a wink. And that means he would have been against it. Why would you have killed her, Dr. Bessner, and you, Miss Doyle? There are witnesses who swear they wouldn't have left the salon before the fight broke out. They also had an injured leg which made it impossible for them. So no, Dr. Bessner must be guilty. She could have talked to him at any time. So no, there was a person and only one person who needed this help. Yes, my dear. Simon Doyle. I see. Did you do all of this on your own? Nonsense! At first I thought the crime was a result of an impulse. But no, that was not the case. It was no coincidence that you had the red ink in your bag. It was no coincidence that the revolver was thrown under the chair. Jacqueline? Yes. What alibi can prove to Mr. Doyle that Jacqueline shot him? And what alibi does Jacqueline have? That she, Mademoiselle Robson, was with her all night long on her urges. The components of the murder with its necessary features. The cool, inventive plan of Jacqueline and the man who did it who executed him. They were once a loving couple. As soon as we realized that they are still together everything made sense. But then her plan went wrong. Didn't it, Mr. Doyle? Because Louise, the maid, sees her and tells her that she wants money for her silence. She manages to convince Jacqueline to tell her where the doctor kept his scalpel. My God, so much blood. She killed the maid. I'm right, aren't I, Mr. Doyle? And the remains of the first bullet that was fired? What is it, Mr. Doyle? Did she swear to you? She was hit in the sofa. They removed her and threw her out the window. With the spare bullet it should look like this. Jacqueline and Simon killed Lynette for low-level reasons. But there won't be a happy ending for both of them. Jacqueline pulls the gun, shoots Simon and then kills herself. Four days later the Nile Crusade ended and our little Belgian made his way back to London. Another holiday that actually wasn't a holiday. The Belgian exclusively on Hör mal zu the channel for real listening games and retro fans. 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