The Mirror Crack'd

They're waiting for you in the drawing room, sir.

Thank you, Barnsby.

Oh, Barnsby?

I'd rather like you to join us, if you don't mind.

Have you found Lady Ridgeley's jewels?

Yes, Inspector, have you found my cabochon ruby?

No, Your Ladyship, but I have found something else.

The identity of Lord Fenley's murderer.

Inspector, you're not trying to imply

that one of us could have actually performed such a loathsome deed?

It's quite ridiculous. I simply don't believe it.

Not only do I believe it, Mr Montrose, but I have the evidence to prove it.

All of you had sufficient motive.

It could have been... any one of you.

You, Sir Derek, have been falsifying the accounts of Finwick Industries

with the help of your son-in-law Mr Foxwell.

And you were also aware

that Lady Ridgeley was having an affair with Lord Fenley

which ended abruptly when he resumed his dalliance

with Lady Foxcroft.

You see, she had stumbled upon the knowledge that Barnsby was in truth

Lord Fenley's half brother

and the illegitimate father of Mr Peter Montrose,

who was planning to gain control of Fenley Industries

with the help of Mr Da Silva,

who risked bankruptcy if the plot failed.

Yes, you all had motives.

Any one of you could have done it.

But only one of you did.

A person sitting in this room? At this very moment?

Yes, Miss Kate, in this very room.

This ridiculous cat-and-mouse game has gone on long enough!

Very well, then.

Lord Fenley's murderer...

Oh dear, oh dear.

Lights, Mr Paycock, please.

I'll have it fixed in no time, no time at all.

I'd say that's highly unlikely.

Oh, dear. Now we'll never know who did it.

It does seem rather obvious who the murderer was.

Who, Miss Marple? Do tell us. Was it Sir Derek?

I hardly think so, Miss Giles.

It's unlikely he would have murdered his business partner,

not while he only had 49% of the business,

and the controlling interest

would have reverted to Lord Fenley's sister, a bitter enemy of Sir Derek's.

I'll bet it was that young blaggard Lord Peter.

Impossible, Major. Excuse me, dear.

The only tracks leading to Lord Fenley's estate that evening were bicycle tracks.

But he hated Lord Fenley.

Yes, but you forget,

young Peter had a birth defect which caused a malfunction to the inner ear.

This loss of equilibrium in his system would have made it impossible

for him to maintain his balance on a bicycle.

Good night, Major.

Excuse me, Mrs Morley-Smith. Good night, Dolly.

Good night, Jane.

I still say it was that awful butler.

It was Barnsby, don't you think, Miss Marple?

- I most certainly do not. - But the revolver in his drawer?

Barnsby had never been to Lord Fenley's estate'

The footprints on the night of the murder

led directly to the smaller bedroom off the left wing

where Lord Fenley frequently sought privacy.

Whoever killed him knew how to go directly to that room.

Well, then who did do it, Miss Marple? Who murdered Lord Fenley?

Why, young Miss Kate, of course.

Why do you say Miss Kate?

Because when the body of Lord Fenley was discovered,

the knife was firmly implanted in the chest to the left.

A right-handed person would have clearly been unable

to strike such a thrust in that direction.

If you'd looked closely, you would have noticed

Miss Kate was twirling her pearls in her left hand.

Good night, Vicar. I'm sure you'll have this contraption running in no time'

Good night, all.

She could be wrong, you know.

She's not. I've seen the picture.

I never would have guessed that ending. That girl, she looked so nice.

Human nature, Cherry dear

The world of the cinema, the village, it's all quite the same, really.

Listen to me, Marty.

I don't care what those tea-guzzling limey sons of bitches are demanding,

those tea-guzzling limey sons of bitches are gonna make this picture a hit.

So stop playing around and give them what they want!

Look, I don't want to argue with you. I'm the director

and if I want three dozen poker-playing kangaroos with PhDs,

then you'd better damn well go out and find them.

- Do I make myself clear? - Absolutely.

- How's Marina? - Marina?

She's just fine, Marty.

- Thank you, Bates. - Thank you, Bates.

Mrs Bantry, I really must apologise.

Marina's had to go for a costume fitting up to town.

Miss Gregg was particularly anxious that I should tell you how sorry she is

to have missed you today.

Of course, I quite understand.

By the way, what picture are you over here to make?

- It's called Mary Queen of Scots. - Really? How very interesting.

Marina was especially keen for me to double-check with you personally

all the arrangements for the village fete.

- She's terrified no one's gonna come. -

We are rather intruders here.

My dear Miss Zielinsky,

Miss Gregg's arrival has caused considerable excitement.

It's not every day we have a real-life film star

and her director husband living here at St Mary Mead.

Oh, Jason, we were just talking about you.

- Mr Rudd, Mrs Bantry. - Mrs Bantry.

How do you do?

I cannot tell you how happy my wife and I are to be in your house.

Mr Rudd, you must get it out of your head that this is my house.

After the Colonel, my husband, died, it was much too big for me.

And I'm much more comfortable down at the lodge'

Well, I really must be on my way.

- Would you like some more tea? - No more tea, thank you.

- Very nice to have met you, Mr Rudd. - Very nice to meet you.

No, no, no, please, please. I think I can find my own way out.

Please give my regards to your wife. Goodbye, Miss Zielinsky.

Mrs Bantry.

- Where's Marina? - Upstairs, out like a light.

- Is she taking those damn pills again? - Well, you shake her, she rattles.

I want her to be happy. God knows, she's been through enough.

She'll be happy. Till she gets bored playing the lady of the manor'

Ella!

Sorry.

Don't spoil it.

OK?

OK.

Now, boys. Don't drink this too quickly.

Otherwise, you're going to have very sore tummies.

Quite a turn-out.

More like Buckingham Palace than Gossington Hall.

Mind you, it plays havoc with the lawn.

Ah, good afternoon, Mrs Bantry, Miss Giles.

- Afternoon, Major, Jane. - Darling, Miss Giles.

- Do you think she'll come down? - Who?

Marina Gregg, the film star! Really, Miss Marple.

Well, I don't know anything about film stars, Miss Giles,

but if this gathering is any indication of her local interest,

I'm sure that Miss Gregg won't disappoint her fans.

I do hope not.

I'm sure Mr Foxley, our dear postman,

will herald her arrival with suitable fanfare.

[brass band plays ”There's No Business Like Show Business '9

Steady, boys. Don't rush. Don't rush!

Miss Marple, you were right!

Can you turn this way, please? Just one more?

- Excuse me! - Thank you.

- Mrs Babcock? - Yes?

Miss Gregg would like to thank those of you that worked so hard.

Perhaps you'd like to come up to the hall.

Yes, indeed! I'd be absolutely thrilled! Thank you very much!

Isn't it exciting?

- You know, Wendy... - Yes, I know, you met her once.

Oh!

Major, ladies, we'd be honoured if you'd join us for refreshments.

- Yes, indeed. Most kind. - We'd be delighted, wouldn't we?

She's so beautiful.

But not much of a shot, is she?

Oh, thank you, my friends.

My new, dear, wonderful, sweet friends, thank you.

Marina.

Jason's screaming for you, your guests are piling up.

Oh, but I'm having such fun.

Try a little restraint.

Perhaps I could borrow some of yours.

We seem to be sharing so much these days.

Now, boys and girls, on your marks.

Ready, steady, 90!

Roy! Come here. Come here, Roy! Come here, boy. Come along.

That's a good boy. Sit. There.

Freddie Hawkins! Would you kindly take control of your dog?

You know perfectly well he should be held on his lead.

Sorry, Miss Marple.

Roy! Roy!

Oh, Miss Marple! Oh, goodness. Are you alright?

- That'll teach me to be dogmatic. -

- Can I have one? - Thank you very much.

- Can I have a spoon? - Here's a spoon.

I assure you, Dr Haydock, I'm perfectly alright.

Perhaps you'd care to join the egg-and-spoon race.

It's just about to start.

- You had a nasty fall. - Nonsense! I'm not even shaken.

In fact, I'm amazed nothing's broken. You got away with just a sprain.

I never did discover the secret of your bone structure.

Long brisk walks as a young woman, I expect.

Well, you're not walking anywhere for a few days.

I'll run you back in my car. That's it.

I'll fill you in on all the gossip you'll miss up at the hall

- when I call round to see you tomorrow. - Gossip?

I prefer to call it a healthy interest in human nature.

- Cherry. - Yes, Mr Bates.

See to that lot upstairs, will you?

They're doing their best to drink us dry.

I'm afraid, Miss Gregg,

that it would seem that our committee have always felt

that your films are a little, how shall I say,

risqué for our monthly soirée in the village hall.