Murder On The Orient Express Page #3

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Thank you very much.

Well, Mr. Poirot.

- Poirot.

- How's that?

- Poirot.

- Oh, Poirot. Right.

I just wanted to say that in my country

we also come quickly to the point.

I want you to take a job on for me.

It means big money.

Very big money.

What is the case, or, as you put it, the

job which you wish me to undertake?

Mr. Poirot, I'm a rich man.

Naturally, men in my

position have enemies.

Only one.

Now, what the hell

do you mean by that?

Merely that when a man is in a position

to have, as you say, enemies,

it does not usually resolve

itself into one enemy only.

Oh. Oh, sure. Sure. I appreciate that.

What is your profession?

I'm retired.

- From what?

- Business.

What sort of business?

Baby food.

But what does that matter?

What matters is my safety.

You are in danger?

My life has been threatened,

Mr. Poirot.

My secretary can show

you two letters on file.

And I... can show you this.

I sleep on it.

Mr. Poirot...

...5,000 dollars.

No?

Ten thousand?

Fifteen thousand.

Mr. Ratchett, I have

made enough money

to satisfy both my needs

and my caprices.

I take only such cases now

as interest me,

and to be frank, my interest

in your case is... dwindling.

Belgrade Station.

The Orient Express will

depart in five minutes.

Monsieur Poirot.

I am transferring Signor Bianchi's

luggage to the Pullman.

He's giving you

his own compartment.

But you cannot sit up all night.

My dear friend,

do not concern yourself.

Since you are going to England,

it is better for you

to stay on the through coach

to Calais.

Now, Pierre has made me

very comfortable.

There is no one in the Pullman

but one Greek doctor. Ecco.

- Such generosity deserves my thanks.

- Buon riposa.

- Monsieur Poirot.

- Pierre,

- could I have some clean towels and...

- Yes, monsieur.

Who are my new neighbors?

To the left, monsieur,

the Swedish lady, Miss Ohlsson,

shares seven and eight with

the English lady, Miss Debenham.

And to the right, in number ten,

is Mr. Ratchett.

And where is the loquacious

Mrs. Hubbard?

I should like to get some

sleep tonight.

Beyond Mr. Ratchett,

in the number 11.

She is still too near.

Good night, Mr. Beddoes.

Pardon.

Who is it?

It's me, sir, Beddoes,

with your sedative.

Come in.

Thank you, Pierre. Good night.

Good night, monsieur,

and pleasant dreams in number nine.

- How many drops?

- Of the valerian?

- Two, sir, as you said.

- OK.

No, no. Put it on the table.

And tell Mr. McQueen I want

to see the text of the telegram

he sent from Belgrade.

Very well, sir.

He wants you.

Come in.

La belle Comtesse.

Ce n'est rien.

C'?ait un cauchemar.

Bien, Mr. Ratchett.

May you now have pleasant dreams.

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