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The Mirror Crack'd
- PG
- Year:
- 1980
- 105 min
- 1,084 Views
4
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.
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.
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 b*tches are demanding,
those tea-guzzling limey sons of b*tches
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
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.
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,
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!
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"The Mirror Crack'd" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 6 Sep. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_mirror_crack'd_20865>.
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