Murder On The Orient Express Lines- Helen Hubbard

We won’t be late, I promise, now stop fussing and come on, let’s hurry.

Yoohoo! Excuse me, waiter. You did a very nice job and i’m leaving you something extra because of it.

(At this moment, we notice Hector McQueen sitting at one of the tables. He is a nervous young American in his thirties with a strained, rather beleaguered face.)

Excuse me , young man. Are you american?

Y-yes I am.

I thought so. I can see from your passport. Us Americans have to stick together, you know. Especially in a place like this. I can’t even pronounce half the things on the menu. Can you believe it? And what’s a falafafafafafel? I keep seeing them on the street and they look like you could play hockey with ‘em.

I believe they’re made of fried chickpeas.

Well there ya go. Who knew? Some people will fry anything. By the way, I don’t mean to snoop but I see your train ticket sitting there on the table and I wonder - do you know if they’re providing a bus to the station?

I don’t think so. I-I believe the hotel has a private car.

Well don’t you worry, I’ll ask and find out. As the Bible says, “If Moses doesn’t know the answer, ask the concierge.” Now I better go. I think I’m annoying that odd little man with the silly moustache. (Sotto voce.) And I don’t think it’s real.

I will not discount this possibility.

Is that this Orient Express I keep hearing about? It’s doesn’t look that impressive, as least not from here.

You are Mrs. Hubbard?

Mrs. Helen Caroline Peabody-Wolfson-Van Pelt-Hubbard, if you please, from the beautiful garden state of Minnesota. Mr. Peabody, my first husband, was a very good soul but the poor man had no talent for longevity, and I shouldn’t say poor because he did very nicely for himself, thank you very much. My second husband was a Mr. Wolfson who I loved rather dearly, but he loved a lot of women and so I traded up and got a Van Pelt, but I caught him in bed with that redhead from the Waldorf who did his nails. Then at last I found Mr. Hubbard and I call him my little white knight for saving me from a life of bridge games and watery cocktails at the Minneapolis Country Club.

And is Mr. Hubbard joining you?

No, Mr. Hubbard is not joining me. Mr. Hubbard and I traveled together once and he said it raised his blood pressure. I don’t know why. So now I do it for the both of us. (To Michel.) Do you like to travel?

I travel every day.

Then you and I should exchange notes sometime.

Compartment three.

Is that yours or mine?

Yours, Madame.

I hope it’s comfy.

I have never had a complaint, Madame.

I’m sure you haven’t. (she exits)

(A number of passengers come through with their luggage.)

Well ain’t this the bee’s knees. Maybe I’ll just move in for good.

This way, please, and watch your step.

Holy cow. Is it snowing out there?

We get a lot of it this time of year, I’m afraid. Last year we got stuck in the snow for seven days.

Seven days! Was there liquor on board?

There is always plenty.

Well, now I can breathe again. Don’t get me wrong, I also eat solid food as long as it’s cooked in bourbon. As they say in the movies, lead on, MacDuff! (I exit)

(Ratchett, on the contrary, is annoyed with everything, growls unhappily, and takes a large, unhappy swig from a glass of wine.)

(I call Michel, Bzzzz! Bzzzz!) Hello?! Hello?!

Oui, Madame?

(Opening her door) Michel, could you bring me a bourbon, please. And put it on the rocks. The tap water’s terrible.

Right away, Madame.

And how about some nibbles?

Nibbles, Madame?

Munchies. Yummies. Things to snack on while I drink my bourbon.

Ah, you mean like crisps, Madame.

Yeah, like crisps. We call ‘em nibbles in the Midwest. Have you ever nibbles on anything, Michel?

I have not had that pleasure, Madame.

Well, you bring me those crisps and I’ll give you a lesson. Over and out.

(She hangs up, then looks in the mirror.)

You’re not doing so bad there, kid. You’re looking younger there all the time. Ha!

Come on and hear, Come on and hear Alexander’s ragtime band.

Come on and hear, come on and hear ‘bout the best band in the land.

They can play a bugle call that you never heard before

So natural that you wanna go to war

That’s just the bestest band what am, Oh honey lamb

Come on along-

Would you keep it down!

Shut up! Who asked you?!

Would you tell that ridiculous woman in there to keep it down, its time for bed!

(Calling into Ratchett’s room) Ridiculous women? I heard that!

It is twelve o’clock at night!

Now listen, you just mind your own business.

Stay out of here! This is my compartment!

If I want to enjoy myself, I’m gonna do it, so just pipe down.

You’re insane, you’re just… Get out!

What are you, a thug? Are you in the mafia? Michel I think he’s dangerous.

(Seeing Ratchett’s gun on his night stand)

Oh my God, he’s got a gun! Michel, it’s a gun!

Get out this instant!

You must be crazy!

I said get out!

(I go back to my room and to annoy him I sing the Charleston)

Charleston, Charleston,

Made in Carolina!

Hey Mr. Whosits! I hope you don’t have any trouble with this one. It would be Un-American!

Some dance, some prance

I’ll say there’s nothing finer

Than the

Charleston, Charleston…

Why did you send him off like that?

Help! Someone come quickly! Help!

Mrs. Hubbard. What? What is it?

There was a man in my room! He ran off! I’m sure of it!

Which way did he go?!

That way! Just this second!

But Madame, that is where I am coming from and I saw no one.

Well… Well maybe he ducked into one of the compartments or something! I don’t know. I tell you I was lying there in my bed, dead to the world, and I open my eyes, and I see this man going out the door. And he’s wearing a uniform.

But where did he come from?

I don’t know. He just suddenly appeared.

And he looked like…?

I don’t know! I could barely see him! One second he was there and then he was gone. He was like a phantom!

But how is this possible?

HOW SHOULD I KNOW!

Perhaps you were dreaming?

I wasn't dreaming. I know when i’m dreaming. My mouth gets dry. Does my mouth look dry to you?

And your door was locked?

Of course it was locked, but people have keys, don’t they? I’ll bet you have keys. Don’t you own the company?

No, Madame, I run the company. And I will look into it.

Well, all the right then. But hurry up about it. I don’t feel safe!

I am sorry, my friend. But I promise, you will be completely comfortable for as long as it takes.

Bouc! Have you tracked him down yet?!

Not yet, madame.

Well keep trying!

Goodnight my friend. I hope you get a good sleep tonight, because that will make one of us.

And hurry up about it!

Who is it?!

(At the door) Knock, Knock. Excuse me but I need to talk to you.

If you could please wait your turn-

No, I cannot wait my turn because you owe me an apology.

I do?

You thought I was crazy.

Pardon, Madame, I do not know to what you are referring-

To what I am referring is the man in my room last night! You didn’t believe me, but guess what, I have a surprise for you. There was a man and I can prove it! He left a button! Look!

It says “Orient Express.”

It sure as heck does, and it’s just like the ones that Michel wears on his uniform.

And you found it…?

On the floor this morning, bright as you please - next to my big toe after I put these tootsies down on the floor when I woke up.

And you waited until now to tell us?

I just woke up! It’s called a vacation! And I just heard about Ratchett’s murder and I thought that maybe this button guy did it. Ya see it all adds up. He goes into Ratchett’s room, kills him, comes out through my room, I wake up at, like, 1:15 and see him - well, not see him exactly, I sort of feel his presence - and do you realize he could have strangled me in my bed, or shot me or something!

The dead man’s name was not Ratchett, Madame, it was Bruno Cassetii. Does that mean anything to you?

No.

Have you ever heard of the Armstrong case?

You mean that poor kid who got murdered? It was national news. The whole world knew about it. So what?

May I ask where you were last night between midnight and two o’clock?

Oh, great, so now I’m a suspect? You know you should read some detective stories and get some tips.

Twelve to two, Madame.

I just told you! I was alone in bed around one o’clock and then a few minutes later some man walks into my room and scares the living bejesus out of me.

Mrs. Hubbard, would you please write your signature on the is paper, please?

I beg your pardon?

Your signature, so I can see your handwriting.

(Writing) I always thought the French were screwy.

He is from Belgium.

Exactly.

I couldn’t tell!

What’s going on?!

I need my medical bag.

I’ll get it!

There is a great deal of blood. I do not like blood.

Nobody likes blood. Here’s the kit.

Iodine.*

Iodine.

I’m sorry.

That’s quite all right.

A knife!

In my bag?

I left it where it was. I felt so frightened.

Holy cow. I'll go get it-!

STOP! you will not “go get it,” I will retrieve it, when I am ready. Now Miss Debenham, continue.

Well, let me just say that this does prove there was a man in my room last night, like I was-

Mrs. Hubbard!

Sorry.

You talk too much.

I beg your pardon.

He must have been hiding in this room behind the door, waiting to escape.

So if I’d come in here first, then whammo! No more show tunes in the shower.

Mrs. Hubbard, can you tell me where you keep you makeup bag?

Gladly, Right behind the door, hanging on the handle. If these compartments were bigger, I wouldn’t have to hang my makeup bag on a door handle like some drama school kid in a Rudolf Friml operetta living out of a hold-all and hold God!

I hope you solve all this quickly, monsieur. I am not afraid of dying, but I would rather not speed up the process.

I intend to use this company on the grounds of sheer anxiety. (Everyone leaves except Poirot)

You will see in a moment!

Ah! (I was bumped into)

Pardon, Madame! We will be right back!

I thought you wanted to question me.

I do! Just stay where you are.

Well that was exciting - as if we needed any more excitement around here. Now listen, I want my passport back. What if there was another shooting and we had to make a run for it? Can you imagine me wandering through Yugoslavia without a passport? They’d shoot me on sight and ask questions later. “Who are you?!” “Well I’m Mrs. Helen Hubbard from the Minneapolis Golf and Racquet BLAM!” No more mahjong!

You have been extremely patient, Madame, and believe me, I am grateful. If there is ever anything I can do to thank you, I am at your service. (He kisses her hand)

You know you remind me of one of my husbands.

Which one?

My next one.

No. There is one missing.

And there ya go! Are we surprised at this?

Oh là là. Mon Dieu. It is a pass key for the doors on the train.

And that would explain how he got in my room.

You are right, forgive me. Now would you be so kind as to help Miss Ohlsson back to her room and take Mrs. Hubbard with you. I need to speak with the countess alone for a moment if you do not mind.

Of course we mind. Every time things get juicy, you throw us out again!

Uch. Would you please stop gossip mongering.

Me? You have your mouth open so much I can count your teeth.

What a pleasure to learn you know how to count. Bird brain.

Well, if I’m a bird brain, you’re a communist!

I am not a communist, I’m in exile!

From your husband, I’ll bet, who couldn’t wait to get rid of you!

And who’s the one with all the divorces?!

My husbands were unfaithful!

I find this ridiculous!

So where’s that little Frenchman hiding? Is he being mysterious again?

Well, he’s obviously up to something, the little weasel.

“Do you think he solved it?” “Such an odd little man.” “I wish this train would move already.” “The man is ridiculous!”

Ladies and Gentlemen. I have called you together in order to reveal to you the killer of Monsieur Samuel Ratchett, also known as Bruno Cassetti.

You’re kidding!

Stop!

Colonel!

You have been telling me lies, n´est-ces pas? Everyone in this room has been telling me lie after lie, but make no mistake. I know who killed Bruno Cassetti, and I know precisely how it was accomplished.

…We’re listening.

…he stabbed the man eight times and left through the door to Mrs. Hubbard’s compartment.

That’s what I’ve been telling you!

…He must be one of you!

You said there were two unexpected events. We just can’t wait to hear the other one.

…Consider the moment in the corridor the last night.

(Flashback) Help! Someone come quickly! Help!

Mrs. Hubbard. What? What happened?

(Flashback) There was a man in my room! He ran off! I’m sure of it!

Which way did he go?!

(Flashback) That way! Just this second!

But madame, that is where I am coming from and I saw no one. How is this possible?

HOW SHOULD I KNOW?!

…But in fact Mr. Cassetti did not die until after two o’clock when absolutely no one has an alibi!

You know I really don’t think we need to subjected to a performance like this in front of all the-

…It is not hard to see that she is an actress by profession, the great Linda Arden, who has dazzled so many audiences during her distinguished career.

(Flashback) Come on and hear, come on and hear Alexander’s ragtime band.

Is this true?

(Shrugs) I always wanted to be a director.

For my darling Daisy!

For my grandchild!!

And now my friends, what am I to do? It cannot be long until the Yugoslavian police arrive, at which time I must tell them the truth, n´est-ce pas?

You mean the truth, of course, about the second conductor.

But I cannot… I cannot just…

May a humble actress speak her peace?

Please do, my dear.

Monsieur Poirot, we are in your hands, and we acknowledge it. But would you really have preferred it if Bruno Cassetti had gotten away scot-free? Would that be the kind of injustice you are after? (Poirot turns away) Look at it this way: you have a complete solution staring you in the face. You have the button, you have the uniform, you have three reliable witnesses who saw a man in the corridor - and surely you’re not calling all of us liars. Because if you did that… (Her tone changes) There would be months of trials, lives would be damaged even more than they have been already, and a great many people would be forced to relive the most terrible moment in all of their lives - more terrible than any human being should ever have to experience. Is that what you want? Examine your heart and tell us what you want.