Evil Under the Sun

Please, please,

you must come quick.

There's a woman lying dead

out on the moors.

It's alright, miss.

No need for you to take another look.

Ruber.

Alice. Mrs.

I'd say she's been dead

for no more than two hours.

Say four o'clock at the outside

for time of death.

Hercules Parrot, sir.

Poirot, mademoiselle.

Pucker your lips as though

about to bestow a kiss! Poi-rot.

Morning, Poirot.

I hope you have good news.

This case has been hanging fire

for four months.

No, I'm afraid

it's one of those rare cases

where an insurance company must, er...

...laugh and lump it.

Very well.

The usual 100 guineas, I take it?

By the way, Poirot...

Take a look at this.

It is the property

of Sir Horace Blatt.

He is seeking to insure it

with us for 50,000.

Well, on the face of it,

it seems to be worth every penny of...

...38 pounds, seven

shillings and sixpence.

You are of course quite right.

It is paste.

The question is why should

a millionaire industrialist

perpetrate such an obvious fraud?

Precisely. He must have known

the stone would be examined.

So you see,

there is something of a mystery.

Rest assured, with Hercule Poirot,

mysteries never last for long.

Exactly. We were wondering if you would

undertake to investigate the matter.

You know that you can count on

my discretion.

Very well, I will see Sir Horace...

this afternoon.

Hardly this afternoon, I think.

He's on his yacht, the Jolly Roger,

in the south of France.

Would a further 200 meet the case?

Guineas.

It will make my forthcoming holidays

even more attractive.

So that's your game, is it?

You come out here and as near as dammit

accuse me, Horace Blatt, of fraud?

Do you seriously think

that I'd cheat the insurance company

over one bloody jewel?

I am worth millions, Poirot.

Nevertheless, I'm afraid

it's quite worthless, monsieur.

God, I could wring her bloody neck!

If you would care to confide in me,

I should be most honoured.

Alright, I'll tell you this much.

A couple of months back,

I met a certain lady in New York.

She told me she was

so madly in love with me

that she'd leave the show she was in...

She was an actress, you know.

...and come back to England with me

on the Queen Mary and marry me.

So I bought her this stone

from Tiffany's.

Halfway across the Atlantic, she changed

her mind and ran off with another man.

I wouldn't have minded,

only she took the jewel with her.

That wasn't a fair do.

You see, I had given her it

in contemplation of marriage.

And, frankly,

$100,000 is a bit much to pay

for three days' fumbling

on the high seas.

Oh, monsieur, who can put a price on

les affaires de coeur?

I bloody can.

And this was too high.

So, three weeks ago,

I went after her and demanded it back.

Of course she tried to put me off, but

after a week or so she gave it to me

and I sent it along to be insured and...

She'd had the bloody thing copied,

hadn't she?

It would appear to be

the only explanation, monsieur.

Well, she's not gonna make

a chump out of me.

I happen to know that in three days'

time she'll be down at Daphne's place

for a little holiday.

I'll give her a little holiday!

Daphne's place?

Yes, you know, Daphne Castle.

She was a mistress of

the King of Tyrania for years,

then when he upped and married

the present queen

he gave Daphne

an old summer palace to keep her quiet.

She's turned it into one of those

exclusive la-di-da hotels

where the nobs and nancies

come to squawk at each other.

I can't stand it meself,

but she's good sort.

Anyway, you'd better come with me.

We can sail tonight.

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