Murder by Death Page #6

Mr. Twain.

You appear to be wrong.

Nobody here murdered.

Please to come in.

Is he dead?

With that in him,

in the long run he's better off.

- Touch nothing!

- Stop that.

We're experienced

criminologists.

I find it insulting and redundant

to say "touch nothing."

- Quiet, woman.

- Up yours, fella.

Most amusing. Bickering detectives

like making giant lamb stew:

- Everything go to pot.

- Be quiet!

Shut up, all of youse!

Nobody move!

- Stay where you are!

- What is it?

I have to go to the can again.

I don't wanna miss nothing.

I'm going too, Sam.

I'd rather do this alone, Tess.

Thanks anyway.

The cook.

What, darling?

It's obvious.

The cook murdered him.

The butler's dead.

All of us were in this room.

No one could get in.

That leaves the cook. Right?

Wrong.

What makes you certain of this?

To drive a knife that far up a man's

back, you need a strong arm.

And this arm don't look

that strong to me.

- Is that her arm?

- It ain't the pussycat's tail.

Don't be alarmed, miss.

It ain't real.

For that matter,

neither is the cook.

I found this

before I got to the can.

Got a little surprise

for you folks.

- Look!

- A mannequin!

A dummy,

perfect in every detail...

...with the exception of not being

able to make her speak.

Hats off to the man

with the shiv in his back.

Except that he's dead,

he's no dope.

Nice going, Sam.

I hope you realize that

someone in this room is a murderer.

For sake of ladies present...

...may we return to drawing room?

My son will cover up Mr. Twain.

- Why do I do the work?

- Your mother not here to do it.

Come, please.

Excuse me.

I'm getting a headache. Isn't there

a way to turn off that machine?

Maybe some gadget

outside the window.

It's raining this time.

Let's get to business

and sort the facts.

It is now 12:
30 Sunday morning.

The doors and windows

will open at dawn.

One of us will be

a million dollars richer...

...and one will go

to the gas chamber to hang.

One, Monsieur Perrier? Why not two?

We all have associates.

Why not six or eight?

I don't trust any of youse.

Maybe I'm a patsy set up for a fall,

but I'm not falling for youse.

Not even me?

Why don't you fall in love with

the Jap kid and get off my back?

Can we get back to case, please?

Time is late and my eyes

are getting tired.

- Thought they always looked like that.

- Knock it off!

Sorry. This case is getting

on my nerves. I'm sorry, slanty.

Thank you. Now then, facts,

please, facts.

Mr. Twain predicts murder. Predicts

victim to be at table, correct?

Correct.

This is official.

Correct.

Predicts murder to take place at

midnight and number of stab wounds.

How, if he not in collaboration

with murderer?

- What if Twain did it himself?

- Murdered himself?

For what possible reason?

And how?

The motive is simple: ego.

If we weren't to solve this,

he'd be the world's best detective.

With an ego like his, that he died

for it is a small price to pay.

Any man who can create

this chamber of electronic marvels...

...would be able to devise a machine

to stab him in the back 12 times.

That was wonderful.

I'm so proud.

- Let's go to bed, quickly.

- One moment.

Very interesting theory...

...but you overlook

one very important point.

- And that is?

- It's stupid.

It's most stupid theory

I ever heard!

- Do you have a better one?

- Yeah, much better one.

You see, I have been

doing my homework.

For example,

I have information...

...that your wife's

portfolio of stocks...

...was seriously depleted

in financial crisis.

In short, you are flat broke.

You've been borrowing for two years...

...at 17% interest

from Mr. Lionel Twain.

Broke? Is this true?

I was saving it for your birthday.

One million dollars would buy...

...great many tight suits,

would it not?

- See here, Wang-

- Dead broke?

Almost, darling.

I have $1.17 and some stamps.

But I didn't murder Twain.

You do believe that?

- We'll talk. We'll see.

- It could have been any one of you.

Each one of us was out

of that room at one time...

...giving ample opportunity

to commit the crime.

As for motives,

there's more than ego and cash.

For example, revenge.

Meaning what, Mr. Charleston?

I'm not the only one who's had

a past experience with Twain.

He was quite a ladies' man in his day.

Are you suggesting

someone here-

Was once in love

with Lionel Twain.

He was engaged to and jilted...

...Miss Jessica Marbles.

Jesus H. Christ!

Jilted 54 years ago at the altar.

Left her there

in that same tweed outfit.

- Is this true, Jessie?

- I was not jilted.

I walked out on him.

He wanted to fool around

before the wedding.

And being the lady you are,

you refused.

Not completely. But it got out of hand.

He was horrid, but I didn't kill him.

That's good enough for me.

What about you?

I'm not a Frenchy!

I'm a Belgy!

And as for other motives,

how about patricide?

The killing of one's own parent?

You mean that Lionel Twain was

the father of someone in this room?

He wasn't my father.

He was my uncle.

He was very good to me.

He would take me to the circus

and give me candy.

We stopped going

when I was about 26.

I'm sorry, Sam.

Twenty-six?

What kind of a circus was it?

Forgive me, but I was talking about

patricide, not uncle-cide.

Twain may have been your uncle...

...but he was the

illegitimate father of...

...Monsieur Sidney Wang!

It not true.

I was adopted.

I have my papers.

That is why I have adopted

all my children.

I was wondering.

He loved me very much...

...but he was not very observant.

One day when I was 19,

he called me to his study...

...noticed for first time I was

Oriental, and kicked me out.

- I could have-

- Killed him, Wang?

As easily as you,

Monsieur Perrier.

Lionel Twain killed

the only thing you ever loved:

Marie-Louise Cartier.

Your sweetheart?

My poodle.

He was a most cruel man.

Monsieur would come to France

every season...

...to hunt poodles.

The day they brought...

...her bloodied collar to me,

I vowed I would-

- Knock him off?

- Yes, gladly, if I had the chance.

But I did not.

Someone here beat me to it.

There's more than one reason

that we was invited here.

Not only was Twain testing

us as detectives...

...but we all have motives

for doing him in.

Have not yet heard

your motive, Mr. Diamond.

My motive is unimportant.

Let's say that I hated him enough

to kill him.

You are closed man, Mr. Diamond.

You hide many things.

Could it be that Mr. Twain

discover your secret?

I don't know what

you're talking about.

We know different,

do we not, Miss Skeffington?

Twain picked up Sam in a gay bar.

I was working on a case. Working.

Every night for six months?

I got 50 bucks a day and expenses.

I hate them queeries.

Twain...

...had Polaroid pictures

of Sam in drag.

I was in disguise.

Lots of dames go in those joints.

I never kissed nobody.

I never did nothing to a man

that I wouldn't do to a woman.

And I didn't kill Twain.

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