Agatha Christie's Poirot Muder on the Orient Express 2010 Chapter 6

Uploaded by Adr1an1985 on 14.07.2010

This Cassetti trial...
It must have brought the press, the FBI,
down heavily on the Mafia,
hurt their interests... which they hate...
so they put one of them on the train,
give him a knife, and... and get payback.
Signor Foscarelli.
How unfortunate, then, that the English valet has the toothache
and knows that Signor Foscarelli
did not leave his compartment all night.
On the night of the murder, monsieur,
my maid read to me until 11:00.
And you slept through till the morning?
At 20 to 1:00 I rang for the conductor
to call Fräulein Schmidt, as I had not settled,
and I requested a massage.
Ah, oui.
I left her asleep at half past 2:00.
I gave my lady a massage and read more Goethe.
And you did not hear anything untoward in the carriage?
That is correct.
Princess Dragomiroff, were you acquainted
with the family of Daisy Armstrong?
- Yes. - My lady.
Hildegarde, please. Leave.
I stayed many times at the Armstrong house on Long Island,
as I was privileged to be the godmother
of Daisy's mother, Sonia.
Sonia was the daughter
of the great tragic actress Linda Arden,
of whom I had been an admirer for many decades.
Yeah, if my memory is correct,
Linda Arden, it was a stage name, oui?
Taken from the Shakespeare.
So, what was her actual name?
The name was Waterstone.
Ah, yes, I am remembering now.
Linda Arden, she had two daughters...
Sonia Armstrong, oui, and also a younger daughter.
You are correct.
Do you know what happened to this younger daughter?
Mm, she married someone, somewhere.
I do not know what happened to her.
You know it is Lanfranco Cassetti
who has been murdered?
Monsieur, if I had recognized that man,
do you know what I should have liked to have done?
I should have liked to have called my servants,
flogged this man to death,
and throw him on the rubbish heap.
That is what was done with such a man
when I was young, monsieur.
Make no mistake.
I would have stabbed him as he slept and been proud to confess.
FOSCARELLl: Monsieur?
Poirot. Poirot. Do you think she did it?
No, that woman was frail.
She would not have the strength...
- Monsieur? - Signor Foscarelli.
I hear talk of the Mafia being responsible.
Yes. Yes, that's true.
I was talking to the gentleman.
Monsieur, not all Italian-Americans are Mafia.
Most of us spit on them.
Now, I'm in the motor trade. I'm a good salesman.
But it's hard to be trusted when you're Italian.
Men like Cassetti, they make people hate us.
Monsieur, if these gangsters are involved,
do not mess with them.
Understand me?
For they are ruthless to anyone,
anyone who crosses them, and you are no exception!
- You understand that? - Hey, is that a threat?
It is advice, monsieur.
Come in.
How dare you threaten M. Poirot?
The water.
The water is not working.
- I wasn't threatening anybody. What is happening?
Fräulein Schmidt, does this belong to your lady?
- She's Natalia. - Ah.
It's her style but not her initial.
And tell to me if you please...
Were you also the frequent visitor
to the Armstrong house in Long Island?
Yes. No.
I knew the Long Island home,
but I've worked at an adjacent property, another family.
That was how I met my lady.
And you are a good cook, eh?
Yes. All my ladies have said that.
N- No.
I'm a maid.
Ah, forgive me, but you appear to be more expert in the food.
...which is made with parsley
and no more cooked than 30 seconds.
No. I'm a lady's maid.
The reason... The reason I'm so nervous, monsieur,
and get things wrong is that I saw the murderer.
I saw him with my eyes when I finished my lady's massage.
And can you describe him?
He was small, round, and dark.
And when I heard his voice as he said "pardon,"
it was a woman's voice... weak like a woman.
There is no power, no power at all.
And it will be minus-10 degrees tonight.
And they cannot get here with the plow until the morning.
What are you doing?
How will they cook food? Hey.
How will we stay warm? - All his buttons are here.
And sewn with old thread,
so this button must have come from a second uniform, Poirot.
Last night, Count Andrenyi,
I saw you and your wife trying to disembark at Belgrade.
My wife can be claustrophobic.
It is difficult for her on the train.
No. Last night she took a draft of Trional.
My word of honor.
I did not question your honor.
I am afraid, Poirot, neither of us
can be of use to you in this sad investigation.
Non, monsieur.
COUNT ANDRENYl: I spent two years in Washington
at a posting to the embassy.
You were there five years ago, I see.
I remember the Armstrong murder in the papers,
if that's what you're... alluding to.
So this spot of grease is the result
of an official who was careless, eh?
Why does she have to write her name?
S'il vous plait, as it appears in the passport.