Murder Ahoy

Synopsis: Miss Marple investigates the murder of one of her fellow trustees of a fund which rehabilitates young criminals. To investigate she goes aboard the ship used to train the juveniles, much to the distress of the Captain. She soon stumbles onto more murders, and a ring of thieves.
Genre: Comedy, Crime, Drama
Director(s): George Pollock
Production: Warner Home Video
 
IMDB:
7.1
UNRATED
Year:
1964
93 min
Website
282 Views


Miss Jane Marple, gentlemen.

- Oh, my dear Miss Marple.

- How do you do, Bishop?

- Now this is your chair.

- Thank you. I am indeed honored.

Cecil Ffolly Hardwicke.

Sir Geoffrey Bucknose.

- How do you do?

- Lord Rudkin.

Now, my fellow trustees.

Our annual meeting tonight

is at once

a sad and a joyous occasion.

Sad because of the recent demise

of Rear Admiral, Sir Hubert Marple.

Joyous because in his stead

we welcome his niece,

the granddaughter of our founder,

admiral of the fleet,

Sir Bertram Marple.

- Hear, hear. Now, Bishop...

- Please allow me a moment.

In Sir Bertram's own words,

the objective of this trust is

to put backbone into young jellyfish.

Hence his purchase of that famous old

wooden wall of England,

the Battledore, which has since

served as a training ship

for young hooligans who might

otherwise have gone to the devil.

Bishop, we all know this,

but I have something

of importance to say.

So have I.

Madam, on this night your heart

must be overflowing with pride

at the achievements of your family.

I can only say and

from the bottom of my heart, welcome.

- Oh, Bishop.

- Amen. Now...

Please, please, please.

Bishop, my fellow trustees.

I'm moved

with the warmth of your welcome.

My heart is indeed filled with pride.

Forgive me,

smoke does so get in one's eyes.

That's better.

Bishop, fellow trustees,

I am honored to be one of you.

Would you take your finger

out of my snuff box!

I beg your pardon.

How dreadful of me.

As I was about to say,

with our steady hands at the helm,

I'm confident

that the good ship Battledore

will continue to buffet

her way through storm and tempest,

providing a safe haven for those

who are in peril on the sea of life.

Thank you.

Gentlemen and lady,

to the first item on our agenda...

Hang the first item,

I insist on speaking.

Look here, Ffolly, why can't you

raise it under any other business?

There won't be any other business

unless what I have to say

is heard now and acted upon.

Well, it's most irregular,

but very well.

Ffolly! Ffolly!

Was he exciting himself

about something?

Well, yes, Dr. Crump.

He did seem to be a little...

Yes, I thought so.

The spirit was willing

but the heart was not.

I'll deal with the police routine,

they're just across the road.

Good night.

- Brisk young fellow.

- Poor Ffolly.

I wonder what he was going to say.

He'd just paid

a surprise visit to the Battledore.

He got back this very day

as a matter of fact.

I wonder if he was going

to fuss over the reception he got?

The captain, you know,

does not encourage visitors.

What a beautiful way

to be taken - unawares.

- Miss Pringle!

- Oh, I say, not her too.

She has merely fainted.

I have some smelling salts in my bag.

Miss Marple, quickly, if you please.

Thank you very much.

Curious.

Empty.

Well, that's it, Inspector.

I'll give you

the death certificate in the morning.

Thank you. Sorry about the old boy.

No need to be. A long life,

money, four wives, a quick death...

What more can you want?

I must go, I've got a baby waiting.

Good night.

Brisk sort of chap isn't he?

What? Bacon!

Is it absolutely necessary for you to

creep about like this?

It's because I saw you creeping about

that I am creeping about.

You don't know

what occurred up there.

I do. What I don't know is

why you're climbing out of windows?

Yes, well, that was because

the poor man's snuff has been stolen.

Snuff?

Not the snuff box, though that

is quite valuable, just the snuff.

Snuff... stolen?

- Quite, by an intruder.

- Miss Marple, what on earth...?

Someone was lurking

outside that window.

You mean a burglar?

What interest could

our proceedings have for a burglar?

In any case, what kind

of a burglar is it who steals snuff?

You must have had

rather a severe shock tonight.

Now come with me, and Sergeant Bacon

here will see you home in my car.

A good night's sleep

and you'll be your old self.

Are you implying that I am unhinged?

- No, of course not.

- Then what are you implying pray?

Well, just that

you're temporarily not yourself.

Chief Inspector,

I am always myself.

- Did you get it?

- Yes.

The chemist

did question sulphuric acid,

but when he knew it was for you...

Yes, yes, thank you.

Now I think we can proceed.

I must confess, I'm at a loss

to know what this is all about.

The doctor

said he died of a heart attack.

- He did.

- Then...

Patience, Jim. Patience!

- What is that?

- Ffolly Hardwicke's snuff.

I thought it was all stolen.

Due to a slight contretemps earlier

in the evening, I spilled some.

Fortunately, our thief overlooked it.

I see.

Now handkerchief to mouth

for my first experiment, Mr. Stringer.

- All clear, not cyanide.

- Cyanide?

First a little of the solution,

then we add the catalyst,

a few drops only.

Now we wait a moment.

- Not African boxwood.

- Eh?

Gonioma kamassi.

The sawdust contains

an alkaloid that resembles curare.

Pity. I had hopes of that.

Nil desperandum as

my old science mistress used to say,

we try and try again.

Now if this changes color...

- So that's what it was.

- Er, what?

- Strychnine.

- In his...

He was done away with

through his nose.

- Good heavens!

- Very original.

Very ingenious...

...or perhaps not so.

Propel me please, Jim.

Here we are. The Doom Box

by J. Plantaganet Corby.

Here it is. Now listen.

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David Pursall

David spent his early life in Erdington (England), the son of an accountant; he was always interested in writing and had two murder mystery novels published by the time he was sixteen. So, on leaving school, he took an apprenticeship as a journalist and became a reporter working on a local Birmingham newspaper. His ambition was to move to London to work on a national newspaper but with the threat of war looming, he joined the Royal Service Voluntary Reserve of the Fleet Air Arm as a trainee pilot before taking an officer's course at The Greenwich Naval College. During the Second World War he spent the first three years flying, winning a DSC for bravery and then transferred to the Admiralty Press Division. It was whilst he was stationed in Sydney that he met Captain Anthony Kimmins, the well-known broadcaster on naval affairs, who inspired him to work in the film industry. In 1947, settling in London, he eventually landed a post as Publicity Director for The Rank Organization and, in collaboration with the iconic portrait photographer Cornel Lucas, handled the press relations for Rank film stars, some of those he mentioned include : Jean Simmons, Petula Clark, Diana Dors, Joan Collins, Jill Ireland and Brigitte Bardot. In 1956, he joined forces with long term writing partner Jack Seddon, basing full time at Pinewood Studios, initially writing a script from his own idea Tomorrow Never Comes (1978). However, the plot was considered too provocative at that time and it was whilst trying to interest producers in this, that David and Jack were commissioned to write the script for Count Five and Die (1957); and it took twenty-one years' before Tomorrow Never Comes (1978), was made. Continuing later as a freelance film and TV scriptwriter, David worked mainly on war and murder mystery themes; his last movie made for TV was Black Arrow in 1985, a 15th century historical war drama. He worked constantly, and together with the titles listed, there were many more commissioned scripts, treatments, and original stories developed which never reached the sound stage. He also tried his hand at writing for the theatre, worked for a short time in Bollywood, took his tape recorder to the front line in Israel for a documentary on the Six Day War, and later became a Film and TV adviser; he also continued to write newspaper articles. David lived the good life; a popular, charismatic conversationalist, an idea's man, who enjoyed travelling the world circumnavigating twice, partying, theatergoing, watching night shooting at Pinewood Studios, finishing The Daily Telegraph cryptic crossword daily and driving fast cars; as well as helping the aspiring young achieve success in their careers in film and the media. Aged 69, he announced from his hospital bed, that as he'd written everything there was to write, it was his time to go. He left behind a devoted wife and a daughter. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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