Murder at the Gallop
- APPROVED
- Year:
- 1963
- 81 min
- 349 Views
I don't think we'll be very | welcome here, Miss Marple.
I know Mr Enderby's rich, | but he's eccentric to say the least.
He may close his door | on the world, Mr Stringer,
but he must expect | to be knocked on sometimes.
He never gives anything away, | not even to charity.
Perhaps he's never had the chance.
I must be getting back | to the library, Miss Marple.
It's a worthy cause, no doubt, | but my employers...
- You must be entitled to your tea? | - Yes, but I haven't had it.
Oh, but you shall.
This is our last call. Then | you must come back to my cottage.
I've prepared a very special tea | to reward us for our labour.
Perhaps I'd better leave him to you, | Miss Marple.
Pull yourself together. | He can't eat us, can he?
No, I suppose not.
He must be out.
You know he never goes anywhere.
Mr Enderby?
Mr Enderby?
Don't be alarmed, Mr Enderby, | we've just...
My goodness! | What could have happened?
How is he?
Dead, I'm afraid.
- What is it? | - It's a piece of mud
from some recent visitor | apparently...
But...
...who still seems to be here.
Stay with him.
Miss Marple, you mustn't... | Please be carefuI.
What was it?
A cat.
He did. He was frightened | to death of them.
Frightened to death!
Miss Marple! | This is an unexpected pleasure.
Good morning, Inspector.
Could I have | a few words with you privately?
Yes, of course. Do come in please.
Do sit down, Miss Marple, please.
Now, you're not here to tell me I've | overlooked another crime, are you?
Well, as a matter of fact, I am.
A very grave crime, one of murder.
Oh, no, not again.
This time | there is no mistake, Inspector.
Well, let's get it over with. | Who murdered who this time?
As to the murderer, that will | naturally require an investigation.
The victim is old Mr Enderby.
Enderby? He died of heart failure.
Ah, but what caused | his heart to fail so unexpectedly?
I read the doctor's report, | Miss Marple, it was not unexpected.
He had a severe heart condition.
Exactly. A very wealthy man | with a chronic heart condition.
Yes, the circumstances | are precisely the same.
I don't know what they're the same | as, but they don't add up to murder.
Surely you have read Agatha | Christie's novel, The Ninth Life?
I haven't had the pleasure.
That's why you failed | to make the connection.
Agatha Christie should be compulsory | reading for the police force.
Doom came to her victim | in the shape of a cat.
Look, Miss Marple, enough is enough.
A wealthy old gentleman | with a weak heart
had a pathological horror of cats.
What easier than for some interested | party to slip a cat into the house?
A cat that the old man | will find unexpectedly.
Yes, old Enderby | was frightened to death.
A very ingenious theory,
but my advice to you, Miss Marple, | is to read fewer thrillers.
A love story | would be much more soothing.
Am I to assume that you | won't do anything about this?
Nothing at all. I'm a policeman, | so I'm only interested in facts.
Well, there is only | one course open to me.
- Wait a minute, Miss Marple. | - No, Inspector. I know my duty.
I shall have to investigate myself.
Good day.
You will hear from me again | when my case is completed.
My pastry.
They look good.
- Oh, dear. | - Not one of my failures.
Deliberate, I assure you.
I cooked the piece of mud we found in | old Enderby's house
and then filled | the hole with plaster.
Lo and behold, | preserved in plaster forever.
I see. Ingenious, Miss Marple.
It is rather, isn't it?
Although it went against the grain to | overcook my pastry.
A perfect match... | but what do you make of this?
The mark of a stirrup iron.
- Then it was mud from a riding boot. | - Yes.
From a boot with | a very distinctive scar on it.
That piece of fresh mud was stuck | between the sole and heel
of someone's riding boot...
...someone who visited Mr Enderby | just before he died.
The murderer?
We can't call him that, since it | hasn't been decided he was murdered.
True, but when Inspector Craddock has | considered your theory...
Inspector Craddock has assured me
that that is exactly | what he is not going to do.
No, Jim,
you and I must pursue | this trail entirely on our own.
We must find out who benefits | by the death.
We'll have to wait until the will | is published in the newspapers.
Not necessarily.
- That's the lot, Fred. | - Tea's up. I'll see you inside.
Right.
Fortune favours the brave.
I beg your pardon?
That dray under the very window.
This calls for a certain amount of | ingenuity. We have to get up there.
What if anyone sees us?
We're screened from | the high street by the archway.
We're taking a grave risk | of seeming inquisitive.
A calculated one, Mr Stringer. | On we go.
I trust something pithy | will be said after all this.
Oh dear... Here we are...
"...and though it is with some regret
that I finally satisfy | the greed of my relatives,
I nevertheless do devise and bequeath | that my entire estate
be divided equally between: | My fourth cousin, George Crossfield,
in order that he no longer need | borrow from his clients' funds.
My niece, Rosamund Shane, in order | that she may support her husband
in the style to which | he would like to be accustomed.
To my nephew, Hector Enderby, | in order that he may be able
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"Murder at the Gallop" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 4 May 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/murder_at_the_gallop_14238>.
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