Miss Marple Classic

P.A. system: Station announcement.

The train standing at platform 2

for Ealing Broadway, Hanwell, Hayes,

West Drayton, Langley, Toughlow, Milchester,

and Brackhampton.

Tickets, please.

A woman has been strangled. I saw it.

I beg your pardon?

A man strangled a woman in a train.

I saw it out there.

Strangled?

Yes, strangled!

You must do something about it at once.

Me? Well...

Madam, don't you think perhaps

you had a little nap

and maybe had a bad dream?

Young man, I was not dreaming.

I saw it.

What are you going to do about it?

Well, uh... Look,

we'll... we'll be in Brackhampton

in about 5 minutes.

I'll report it soon as we get there.

Thank you.

Could I... could I have your name

and address, madam?

Yes, of course. Miss Jane Marple.

M-Marple.

Marple. Old pasture Lane...

Pasture Lane...

Milchester.

Milchester. I see. Very well, miss Marple.

I'll report this to the stationmaster

soon as we get there.

Yes, please do.

Thank you.

A bad dream, indeed!

All right, Lucy. I'll answer that.

Morning, madam. I...

not today, thank you.

Inspector Craddock, County C.I.D., madam.

Oh, I am so sorry.

Do come in, inspector.

I've just been going through

all the papers again for the last 2 days.

There's still not a word about the murder.

I suppose the police asked the press

to say nothing for the moment.

Do sit down, won't you?

Lull the murderer

into a false sense of security,

then pounce, eh?

Oh!

What's that?

Oh, how stupid of me.

Here, sir. I'm so sorry.

Lucy!

You will have some tea, won't you?

Oh, uh...

Some tea for the inspector,

dear, please.

Yes, ma'am.

Well, now, have you got him?

Well, I, uh...

That is, we have come to the conclusion

that what you saw on the train

was, uh... Well...

A man and a woman...

Yes, as I said.

I mean, uh...

Perhaps they were honeymooners.

Inspector, I may be what is termed a spinster,

but I do know the difference

between horseplay and murder.

Of course, madam... uh, miss Marple.

But the fact remains

that there's been a thorough search of every train,

and no hospital has treated any woman

such as you described.

She was blonde and had on a coat

with a pale fur collar.

And no such woman has been seen

getting on or off a train

either alone or with anybody else.

Well, of course not! She was dead.

Further, a complete search has been made

of every inch of the tracks

for the whole length of the line. Negative.

Oh. So you don't believe me.

I didn't mean to imply that.

You certainly did.

Not at all. I, uh...

what, then?

I... ahh.

I assure you, miss Marple,

that a woman cannot be murdered on a busy train

a few minutes before a station

without our finding out about it.

I'm quite sure you mean well,

inspector, but if you imagine

that I am going to sit back

and let everybody regard me

as a dotty old maid,

you are very much mistaken.

Good day.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Stainton.

The Hatrack hanging, falcon-Smith's latest...

I'm afraid we haven't received our copy yet.

Plain inefficiency.

Anyway, I want to know the moment it comes in.

Of course. Of course, Mrs. Stainton.

Oh, good morning, miss Marple.

Good morning, Mr. Stringer.

Good morning, Hilda.

one moment.

The Hatrack Hanging.

I've been keeping it for you.

Mr. Stringer, would you say I was an unstable woman?

Oh, certainly not.

In full possession of my faculties?

Absolutely.

And not given to hallucinations?

My, no.

Thank you, Mr. Stringer.

The police think I'm dotty.

What?

Apparently what I saw was a young man and woman

in the throes of connubial bliss.

I see. Well, if I were you, miss Marple,

I would certainly write to the chief constable.

Mr. Stringer, how many detective novels

would you say we have read over the years?

Impossible to say. Certainly many hundred.

Yes. Which gives us, wouldn't you agree,

a certain knowledge of the criminal mind?

Oh, most assuredly.

Well, this is where we put that knowledge to the test.

We?

Yes... we.

So it has come in!

Oh, has it?

Well? I think I have first call.

I don't think you'll like it, Hilda. Too obvious.

The mother did it, of course.

How can you possibly know that?

The book has only just come in.

It always is with falcon-Smith...

a deprived child, you know.

Hot buttered crumpets for tea, Mr. Stringer,

if you care to join me.

Indeed I would, miss Marple.

Ah, yes. Here we are.

Express

to Brackhampton

overtook my train somewhere about there.

But how can you be sure?

Well, I remember the ticket collector saying

5 minutes to Brackhampton.

Couldn't have been more than a minute

after the murder he came in,

so that makes it 6 minutes before Brackhampton

at, say, 30 miles an hour.

So...

About there.

But the body, miss Marple.

Well, it seems clear that was thrown from the train

between here and Brackhampton.

The police found nothing.

Of course not.

The murderer returned before the search

and disposed of the body.

By Jove! The police will certainly want

to investigate now.

Well, according to them,

there is nothing to investigate.

Oh, surely,

in the light of our theory,

a fresh search...

definitely. But this time, we will conduct our own.

Eh?

Yes, Mr. Stringer.

I recommend a hearty breakfast tomorrow.

You and I are going to take an early-morning walk.

There must be something somewhere.

You can't throw a body

out of a fast-moving train

without leaving some kind of trace.

Miss Marple, if we linger here much longer,

I feel certain we shall be apprehended.

Oh, nonsense.

No one will give a couple of track layers

a second glance.

I'm not altogether convinced our disguises are adequate.

A shoe, a bit of cloth. Something!

I concede our timetable may have been out-of-date,

is still running.

Very possibly.

But it could be most dangerous up here!

Undoubtedly.