Bianchi: You mean you saw the man? You can identify the murderer?
Mrs. Hubbard: I mean nothing of the kind. I mean there was a man in my compartment last night. It was pitch dark, of course, and my eyes were closed in terror...
Bianchi: Then how did you know it was a man?
Mrs. Hubbard: Because I've enjoyed *very warm* relations with both my husbands.
Bianchi: With your eyes closed?
Mrs. Hubbard: That helped.
Hercule Poirot: [Bianchi has a visibly nauseated reaction upon seeing the body, and Poirot guides him to the door before things get messy] Ohhhh, if you must go woof-woof, kindly go woof-woof not to windward, but to leeward. Help him, Pierre.
A.D.C.: Ah, here's your ticket, Monsieur Poirot. I'm afraid you've still got another hour.
Hercule Poirot: Then, please, do not wait.
A.D.C.: Not wait? Hah. After all you've done for us, Monsieur Poirot? Ha ha. Oh. Uh, my general's orders were to ensure your safe departure. He also wished to thank you again for saving the honour of the British garrison in Jordan. The Brigadier's, uh, confession was opportune. I say, how did you do it? Was it the old, uh, thumbscrew, you know, the rack, huh?... Oh. Well, uh, you'll be able to rest as soon as you get to Stamboul. The, uh, the Church of Santa Sophia is absolutely magnificent.
Hercule Poirot: You have seen it?
Countess Andrenyi: As is my custom on night trains, I took trional.
[Poirot makes a noise and looks at the doctor]
Dr. Constantine: Diethylsulphone dimethyl methane. One dilutes the white crystals with water. It is a strong hypnotic.
Countess Andrenyi: Ha, ha! He makes it sound like a poison!
Dr. Constantine: As with most sleeping drugs, if taken in sufficient quantities it IS a poison.
Count Andrenyi: [jumping up] You are not-!
Hercule Poirot: Ah, you are not *accused*... you are *ex*-cused! Thank you both for your help and cooperation.
Hercule Poirot: Bianchi, Doctor, has it occurred to you that there are too many clu-ues in this room?
Colonel Arbuthnott: Can you give me your solemn oath - as a foreigner?
Hercule Poirot: Ladies and gentlemen, you are all aware that a repulsive murderer has himself been repulsively, and, perhaps deservedly, murdered.
Hercule Poirot: Mr. Ratchett, I have made enough money to satisfy both my needs and my caprices. I take only such cases now as interest me, and to be frank, my interest in your case is, uh... dwindling.
Hercule Poirot: Only by interrogating the other passengers could I hope to see the light, but when I began to question them, the light, as Macbeth would have said, thickened.
Colonel Arbuthnott: He was interested in the future of India. A bit impractical - he thought the British ought to move out!
Hercule Poirot: If all these people are not implicated in the crime, then why have they all told me, under interrogation, stupid and often unnecessary lies? Why? Why? Why? Why?
Dr. Constantine: Doubtless, Monsieur Poirot, because they did not expect you to be on the train. They had no time to concert their cover story.
Hercule Poirot: I was hoping someone other than myself would say that.
Dr. Constantine: The murderer is with us now!
Pierre: The whistle means that help is near, madame.
Mrs. Hubbard: And high time, too.
Hercule Poirot: Time is what counts, Mrs. Hubbard, if we are to complete this inquiry before reaching Brod. I will therefore make my questions as brief as I hope you will make your answers, and the more often you can confine yourself to a simple yes or no, the better.
Mrs. Hubbard: Well, don't waste time yammering. Begin.
Hercule Poirot: Your full name is Harriet Belinda Hubbard.
Mrs. Hubbard: Yes. I was called Harriet after my -...
Colonel Arbuthnott: It's a USED peep cleaner!
[the sound of a distant train whistle]
Bianchi: I fear that help is at hand. Even if it is only a working party with picks and shovels, we must make haste to complete this inquiry before we reach Brod. If it is an engine with a snowplow, our troubles will really begin.
Dr. Constantine: Who's next?
Hercule Poirot: Mrs. Hubbard.
[Bianchi reacts as if his troubles HAVE already begun]
Bianchi: Oh, my God.
Hercule Poirot: The obvious implication is that the murderer, disguised as a conductor, boarded the train at Belgrade, made his way by means of the convenient passkey to Ratchett's compartment, stabbed him to death, planted the dagger and the uniform, and then departed, since the train was now halted in a snowdrift. Who was he? I am inclined to agree with Mr Foscarelli, who believes that he was a rival member of the Mafia, exacting private vengeance for a vendetta whose precise nature the Yugoslav police will undoubtedly identify.
Dr. Constantine: But... is that all?
Hercule Poirot: No. No, no, no, no. No, it is not. I said, here is the simple answer. There is also a more... complex one. But remember my first solution when I... when you've heard my second.
Hercule Poirot: Ah! "Godmother"! Now you have accidentally said something valuable.
Hercule Poirot: Tout de même, I must thank the pipe-smoking Colonel Arbuthnott for a remark which finally resolved all my confusions about this, uh, this extraordinary case. I prefer to set aside the fact that he denied ever having spoken to Colonel Armstrong in India, and yet he remembered in great detail the decorations which Colonel Armstrong had won years earlier in France. I prefer to remember his views on the British jury system:
Colonel Arbuthnott: [in a brief flashback] Trial by twelve good men and true... is a sound system.
Dr. Constantine: [referring to Pierre] He had the means to do it. The passkey to Ratchett's room.
Hercule Poirot: And a knife borrowed from the chef.
Bianchi: With whom he was in league.
Hercule Poirot: Which he plunged, repeatedly and without motive, into the body of his suitably astonished victim.
Countess Andrenyi: [to Mrs. Hubbard] Mama.
Hercule Poirot: The bottle is more distinguished than its wine.
Ferry conductor: Welcome aboard, Colonel Arbyoo... Arbyoo...
Colonel Arbuthnott: Arbuthnott!
Ratchett: [holding out a cigar] I wonder if you could oblige me with a light.
Hercule Poirot: Ah, certainly.
[he reaches into his pocket for a box of matches and hands them to Ratchett]
Ratchett: Thank you. My name is Ratchett. Do I have the pleasure of speaking to Mr. Hercule Porrot?
Hercule Poirot: The pleasure, possibly, Mister Ratchett. The intention, certainly: you asked me for a light, I offered you one, and you have not used it. One can deduce that without acute mental exhaustion.
Greta Ohlsson: I was born backwards. That is why I work in Africa as missionary, teaching little brown babies more backwards than myself.
Hercule Poirot: Signor Bianchi, it is for you, as a director of the line, to choose the solution that we shall offer to the police at Brod. Though I confess... I am in two minds. I think the police at Brod would prefer the simplicity of the first solution.We have the uniform... to show the police.
Bianchi: If we have the uniform, there must have been a man in it. So therefore, I elect the first solution.
Mrs. Hubbard: Well, my second husband, Mr. Hubbard, would have raised hell. No place for my make-up bag, no ice in my drinking water, and the hot water burps as it comes out of the faucet!
Bianchi: Ah, for the pen of a Balzac. For three days all these people, these total strangers, meet in a single train whose engine controls their destiny.
Mrs. Hubbard: My second husband said always to ask for change in dollars or, at worst, sterling. So, for Pete's sake, what's a drachma?
Mrs. Hubbard: If you need aspirin, I always carry it on my person. I mistrust foreign drugs.
Mrs. Hubbard: So, now there's a man in my room! I woke up in the dark three minutes ago and there was a man hiding in this compartment. I sensed it. Once more, I know who he was because I absentmindedly nearly walked through his open door earlier this evening. Then he said, this Mr. Rachett, "If you'd done this twenty years ago, I'd have said come in." Twenty years ago? Ha! Why, I'd only been fifteen!
Hercule Poirot: Has it occurred to you that there are too many clues in this room? Let us proceed.
Hercule Poirot: We know the true identity of Mr. Rachett! And why he had to leave America.
Hercule Poirot: Forgive a Freudian question - do you love your mother?
McQueen: I did. She died when I was eight. An impressionable age. Why? Why do you ask?
Hercule Poirot: We shared a compartment on the first night of our journey. You cried out for mother twice in your sleep.
McQueen: Did I? I still dream about her. Go on, tell me! I'm emotionally retarded! Tell me that's why I never married.
Hercule Poirot: I am not here to tell you anything, Mr. McQueen. You are here to tell me.
Hercule Poirot: This is not an inquisition, only an inquiry.
Hercule Poirot: In the Far East?
Beddoes: Oh, no sir, in Scotland.
Hercule Poirot: Oh, Scotland! Oh, forgive me. I am only an ignorant Belgian.
Beddoes: Oh, a Belgian, sir! I always thought you were French.
Hercule Poirot: Belgian. Did you know that Mr. Rachett was of Italian extraction?
Beddoes: Aw, so that accounts for his hot temper.
Greta Ohlsson: I vas - I international group for getting money for African mission from America rich. I speak Swedish to big audiences in Swedish American Institution in Minneapolis and other big cities. In 10 veeks ve make 14,000 dollars and 27 cents.
Hercule Poirot: How long have you been interested in religion?
Greta Ohlsson: From five years. In sommer, I had been sick, as alvays, and I sat in de grass in de garden, and I saw Yesus in the sky mit many little children. But, all the children vere brown! So, it vas a sign for me to look after little brown babies.
Hercule Poirot: There would be little point then in asking whether this handkerchief is yours?
Countess Andrenyi: Since it contains neither of my initials, no point whatsoever, Monsieur.
Hercule Poirot: Even less point in asking the color of your dressing gown?
Countess Andrenyi: None. Unless, Monsieur takes a professional interests in apricot silk.
Hercule Poirot: I take a professional interest in crime, madame.
Princess Dragomiroff: Now, you wish *me* to confess to the murder of Mr. what's his name?
Princess Dragomiroff: I have no need for the nurse. That is an ordeal still to come.
Hercule Poirot: Our last interrogation will be something of a gamble. But, if it succeeds? I know.
Hardman: Ratchett asked them for an American bodyguard. They sent me. I didn't do so hot.
Hercule Poirot: Ladies and gentlemen, we now come to my own reconstruction of the night of the murder - or, the night of the red herrings.