Murder by Death Page #4

Ten people for dinner,

and I'm serving them hot nothing!

You can't get good help today.

You're fired, you understand?

Fired!

I want you out,

do you hear? Out!

And stay out.

Something just occurred to me.

- The seating's all wrong.

- How so?

- I'm sitting next to Dora.

- So what?

- She's your wife.

- Exactly.

The husband's never seated

next to the wife.

I should be on the opposite side.

Will you trade?

- Now, Mr. Charleston?

- Now, Mr. Wang.

Another test that could

have cost us our lives.

Saved only by the fact

that I am well-bred.

Lucky it wasn't me.

I'd have been chopped liver.

Silence, please. Do not panic.

No person move from place.

Someone just came in.

I hear footsteps.

Wait! Quiet, everyone!

- I smell something.

- What is it?

Good God! Franks and beans!

I'm afraid that's all we have,

sir.

You know how I get

when you touch me there.

My hands are in my pockets.

- They're my pockets.

- Sorry.

Dickie, behave yourself.

Good evening,

ladies and gentlemen.

I'm your host, Lionel Twain.

Good God, what an entrance!

A bit theatrical, Miss Marbles,

but I do so love illusion.

Please forgive my hat.

I'm losing my hair.

I thought Twain was

an older man, say 72, 73.

Seventy-six to be exact,

Mr. Diamond.

How do I look so young?

Quite simple.

A complete vegetable diet,

12 hours' sleep a night...

...and lots and lots of makeup.

- I trust you're all comfortable.

- Comfortable, Mr. Twain?

Is that what you call poisoned wine

and near decapitation?

No. I call it inspiration.

You haven't explained the mechanical

and culinary attempts on our lives.

Merely games, Monsieur Perrier.

Pitting wits with you,

so to speak.

Pit your wits with me

and you won't have wits to pit with.

You're spitting on the nurse.

Sorry, old lady.

Crazy broad should be in bed.

We have been here four hours...

...and there hasn't been

a hot dinner or a corpse.

- I must therefore bid you adieu.

- I bid one adieu as well.

No one is leaving this house.

What meaning of this, Mr. Twain?

I will tell you, Mr. Wang,

if you can tell me...

...why one of the most brilliant

minds of the century...

...can't say prepositions

or articles.

"The," Mr. Wang.

"What is the meaning of this?"

That what I said.

What meaning of this?

The meaning of this is...

...that I have decided to prove,

beyond any doubt...

...that the greatest criminologist in

the world is sitting at this table...

...and you are all looking at him.

No, don't look at each other!

Look at me! I'm the greatest!

I'm number one!

To me you look like number two.

Know what I mean?

- What does he mean?

- I'll tell you later. It's disgusting.

In all your adventures,

monsieurs and madames...

...none of you has ever had

an unsolved murder.

Your reputations exist

on this single fact.

But what would the world say

if the five greatest detectives...

...found themselves trapped

in a house, shut off from the world...

...only to discover

a dead body...

...stabbed 12 times in the back

with a knife...

...and not one of you able

to solve the crime?

- You mean murder?

- We're talking shop.

Yes, murder, Mrs. Charleston!

On the stroke of midnight...

...someone in this house

will be murdered.

Left out one small detail,

Mr. Twain.

Who victim?

"Is the." "Is the."

"Who is the victim?"

That drives me crazy!

- Sounds like a short ride to me.

- Does it?

Well, we shall see who is sane

and who is crazy around here.

Mr. Wang...

...the victim is here at this table

at this very moment...

...and so too, ladies and gentlemen,

is the murderer.

- Murder-poo?

- Yes, dear.

We're going to have

a lovely murder-poo.

Push her wheelchair down the driveway.

We got business.

- You know who's gonna get it?

- Intimately.

- And how it'll be committed?

- Definitely.

And what time

murder take place?

"The" murder. Precisely.

It's not my business, but doesn't

that mean you're the murderer?

No wives. I refuse to

discuss this with wives.

All fingers do point to you.

Not much of a challenge.

Shall I make it more interesting?

One million dollars

to the one who solves the crime.

Wagered against your reputations.

One million dollars, tax-free.

In addition, the paperback rights

and the film sale.

It's 11:
00, amigos...

...just one hour before death

strikes someone in this room.

See you at midnight.

See here, Mr. Twain!

- He's gone!

- No, he's not. He's down there.

Fast little bunny, ain't you?

I've never moved, Mr. Diamond.

I'm still down there.

A stunt with mirrors.

Is that so?

Willing to risk seven years' bad luck?

Try it, Mr. Diamond.

It's your funeral, butterball.

Wait. Sometimes it doesn't work.

You've won this round,

Mr. Diamond.

My turn comes at midnight.

I hope he knows

how to stop that thing.

Anybody offering a million bucks to

solve a crime that ain't happened...

...has lost more upstairs than hair.

What do we do?

Sit and wait to be butchered?

And what has happened

to the butler?

Why has he not returned?

With our dinner?

- Go look for him.

- No!

- No one to leave this room.

- Why not?

Twain say victim at this table.

If we stay together, crime

cannot be committed without witnesses.

He's right.

You're one smart Chinaman.

Let's join hands. The chain's stronger

if the links are unbroken. Join hands.

Stop that.

- Stop it, I said.

- What is it, Diamond?

She's giving my palm the finger,

the dirty broad.

Naughty, naughty, Miss Withers.

- Good God!

- What?

Look!

- What's she doing?

- She's screaming.

- What's happened?

- Something wrong in kitchen.

- With our dinner!

- Patience.

- Is someone there?

- Someone with dinner?

Cook cannot speak or hear.

I think butler is dead.

My name is Yetta.

I don't work Thursdays.

Ask her if she sleeps in.

We'll investigate.

Someone must go.

Not alone. Mr. Charleston,

Mr. Diamond, stay.

Miss Marble, Mr. Perrier and Wang,

we'll investigate.

That's right,

just let it all out.

Here. Oh, dear.

Careful, Wang!

Fingerprints.

- Where?

- Yours.

Here, take my handkerchief.

- Is he-?

- He look like-

Seems like.

Touch nothing!

Fingerprints.

Quite so.

Pencil.

No pulse.

No heartbeat.

If condition does not change,

this man is dead.

No signs of foul play.

Hold on!

What's this?

What do you make of this, Perrier?

Poison, "n'est-ce pas?"

Not "n'est-ce pas." Cocoa.

So at last we have our murder.

Not quite. Twain say murder victim

sitting at our table.

Butler not at our table.

Butler only killed to divert us

from real murder still to come.

Look!

One of the knives is missing.

The butcher's knife, I'll wager.

- The others are in danger.

- What's exact time?

31 and 56 seconds.

Fifty-seven, fifty-eight-

Tell me when to stop. 59, 60-

28 minutes to main murder.

Back to dining room.

Must all be together at midnight.

One moment!

Handkerchief.

- What is it?

- A bill.

Everything here has been rented:

The butler, the food, the chairs.

- You mean-?

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