Murder Most Foul Page #2

Synopsis: Although the evidence appears to be overwhelming in the strangulation murder of a blackmailer, Miss Marple's sole 'not guilty' vote hangs the jury 11-1. She becomes convinced that the real murderer is a member of a local theatrical troupe, so she joins them in order to gather information. The clues lead back many years to a single disastrously unsuccessful 1951 performance of a dreadful play written by the group's hammy director, H. Driffold Cosgood. Although at that time, several of the current cast members were only children, more murders follow before Miss Marple ultimately exposes the killer.
 
IMDB:
7.2
UNRATED
Year:
1964
90 min
385 Views


- It makes a new woman of me.

- I'll bear that in mind. Thank you.

That'll be

the insurance man paying out...

They don't like it

when the unforeseen does occur.

Persistence, Mr Stringer.

Persistence. Foot in door.

- I hope you've brought it in cash.

- Brought what?

I don't want the same trouble

as when my John passed away.

- I don't understand.

- Aren't you from the insurance?

Oh, no, madam. I was hoping to

interest you in improving your mind.

I was wondering if you'd allow me

to show you the new Wonder book.

Do.

Come in, Mr... come in.

Murder She Said,

Murder She Said, Murder She Said.

This section on our feathered friends

is most comprehensive.

Everything

from an albatross to a shrike.

- A what?

- A shrike.

So named for its incessant chatter

and predatory instincts.

It has a habit of impaling its prey.

How interesting.

I've got a woman upstairs. I'll get

rid of her and we'll have some tea.

Please don't do that.

I can't trespass on your generosity.

Oh, dear, poor Mr Stringer.

Fancy me mistaking you for the

insurance man. You're much too nice.

- Oh, really?

- Well, of course you are.

You don't really

look like a salesman, do you?

- Don't I?

- No.

- So you're a bachelor, Mr Stringer?

- Er, yes.

Oh, I can always tell

and I'm a widow.

I'd never have believed it.

How do you do?

- I see you got what you wanted.

- Yes.

Perhaps the gentlemen

would care to help me with these?

- Indeed.

- Thank you.

I'll leave you the book, Mrs Thomas.

Brood on it, will you?

- What about the tea?

- Good day, Mrs Thomas.

So, you're a bachelor, Mr Stringer.

- Not staying to tea?

- Oh, no, Miss Marple.

Dear me,

the lady will be disappointed. Up!

Miss Marple, I assure you,

I gave that woman no encouragement.

It is of small importance,

Mr Stringer.

Good heavens, I've got it! Jim!

Look, there's the page

of the Milchester Gazette

I took from Mrs McGinty's room.

Here's the identical page

I got from the newspaper offices.

I've snipped out the same words

and letters and produced this.

A rose. A rose?

Milchester 862, please.

Is that Lady Cynthia Waterhouse?

Lady who?

No, this is Mrs Gladys Thomas.

I'm so sorry,

I have the wrong number.

As I thought. 862 is the telephone

number of Mrs McGinty's cottage.

I'm at a loss.

This type of message is typical

of a certain kind of criminal -

the blackmailer.

Yes, I think Mrs McGinty

may have been one.

- Dear me.

- Well, consider...

The Cosgood Players gave six

performances of Murder She Said

here in Milchester

in the week of May 12th to 19th;

The same week, incidentally,

as this issue of the Gazette.

Here we have six programmes.

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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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