Clue (1985) Script


Is everything ready? Oui, Monsieur.

You have your instructions?

Is everything all right, Mrs. Ho?

Dinner will be ready at 7:30.

Good evening.

Good evening. I don't know if...

Yes indeed, sir, you are expected, Colonel.

May I take your coat? It is Colonel Mustard, isn't it?

No, that's not my name. My name's... Forgive me, sir.

Tonight, you may well feel obliged to my employer for the use of an alias.

And who are you, sir?

I'm Wadsworth, sir.

The butler.

Yvette, could you attend to the colonel and give him anything he requires.

Within reason, that is.

Wadsworth, I was...

Do come in, madam. You are expected.

Do you know who I am?

Only that you are to be known as Mrs. White.

Yes. It said so in the letter. But why?

May I introduce you?

Mrs. White, this is Yvette, the maid.

I see you know each other.

Hello. Hello.

Want a lift?

Yes, please.

Thanks. I'm late for a dinner date.

Me, too. Where are you going?

Let's see.

Hill House, off Route 41.

Wait a minute. Let me look at that.

That's where I'm going. I got a letter like this.

And this is Mrs. Peacock.

How do you do. Hello.

Yvette, will you go and check that dinner will be ready as soon as all the guests have arrived.

Is this the right address to meet Mr. Boddy?

You must be Mr. Green.

Yes. Sit!

No. Not you, sir.

It should be just off there.

That must be it.

Why has the car stopped?

It's frightened.

What a godforsaken place.

Professor Plum and Miss Scarlet. I didn't realize you were acquainted.

We weren't.

May I present Professor Plum and Miss Scarlet.

Of course, since you've each been addressed by a pseudonym, you'll have realized that nobody here is being addressed by their real name.

Ah, dinner.

I'm sorry.

I'm a little accident-prone.

You'll find your names beside your places.

Please be seated.

Is this place for you?

Indeed, no, sir. I'm merely a humble butler.

What exactly do you do?

I buttle, sir. Which means what?

The butler is head of the kitchen and dining room.

I keep everything tidy. That's all.

Well, what's all this about, butler, this dinner party?

"Ours not to reason why, ours but to do and die."


Merely quoting, sir, from Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

I prefer Kipling myself.

"The female of the species is more deadly than the male."

You like Kipling, Miss Scarlet?

Sure. I'll eat anything.

Shark's fin soup, madam.

So, is this for our host?

No, sir. For the seventh guest, Mr. Boddy.

I thought Mr. Boddy was our host.

So did I.

So, who is our host, Mr. Wadsworth?

Well, I'm gonna start while it's still hot.

Now, shouldn't we wait for the other guest?

I'll keep something warm for him.

What'd you have in mind, dear?

Well, someone's got to break the ice and it might as well be me.

I mean, I'm used to being a hostess. It's part of my husband's work.

And It's always difficult when a group of new friends meet together for the first time to get acquainted.

So, I'm perfectly prepared to start the ball rolling.

I mean, I have absolutely no idea what we're doing here or what I'm doing here or what this place is about, but I am determined to enjoy myself.

I'm very intrigued.

And, my, this soup's delicious, isn't it?

You say you are used to being a hostess as part of your husband's work?

Yes, it's an integral part of your life when you're the wife of a...

But then I forgot, we're not supposed to say who we really are, though heavens to Betsy I don't know why.

Don't you?

I know who you are.

Aren't you gonna tell us?

How do you know who I am?

I work in Washington, too.

Washington? So, you're a politician's wife?

Yes, I am.

Well, come on then. Who's your husband?

So, what does your husband do? Nothing.


Well, he just lies around on his back all day.

Sounds like hard work to me.

I'm sorry.

I'm afraid I'm a little bit accident-prone.

Watch it.


My, oh.

Mmm. This is one of my favourite recipes.

I know, madam.

So, what do you do in Washington D.C., Mr. Green?

Come on. What do you do?

I mean, how are we to get acquainted if we don't say anything about ourselves?

Perhaps he doesn't want to get acquainted with you.

Well, I'm sure I don't know.

But if I wasn't trying to keep the conversation going, then we would just be sitting here in an embarrassed silence.

Are you afraid of silence, Mrs. Peacock?

Yes... What? No, why?

Just seems to me that you are. You seem to suffer from what we call "pressure of speech".

"We"? Who's "we"? Are you a shrink?

I do know a little bit about psychological medicine, yes.

You're a doctor?

I am, but I don't practice.

Practice makes perfect.

I think most men need a little practice, don't you, Mrs. Peacock?

So what do you do, Professor?

I work for UNO, the United Nations Organization.

Another politician. Jesus!

No, I work for a branch of UNO. WHO, the World Health Organization.

Well, what's your area of special concern?

Family planning.

What about you, Colonel, are you a real colonel?

I am, sir.

You're not gonna mention the coincidence that you also live in Washington, D.C.?

How did you know that?

Have we met before?

I've certainly seen you before, although you may not have seen me.

So, Miss Scarlet, does this mean that you live in Washington, too?

Sure do.

Does anyone here not live in Washington D.C.?

I don't.

Yes, but you work for the United Nations. That's a government job.

And the rest of us all live in a government town.

Anyone here not earn their living from the government, one way or another?

Wadsworth, where is our host, and why we've been brought here?

Ah Good evening. You're eagerly awaited.

Are you locking me in? I'll take the key.

Over my dead body, sir.

May I take your bag?

No. I'll leave it here 'till I need it.

It contains evidence, I presume?

Surprises, my friend. That's what it contains, surprises.

Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Mr. Boddy.

What are they all doing here?

Eating dinner.

Do sit down, Mr. Boddy.


No, you can take that away, honey.

Look! I demand to know what's going on.

Now, why have we all been dragged out here to this horrible place?

Well, I believe we all received a letter.

My letter says, "it will be to your advantage to be present on this date.

"Because a Mr. Boddy will bring to an end a certain long-standing, confidential, "and painful financial liability."

It is signed, "A friend."

I received a similar letter.

So did we. Didn't we?

I also received a letter.

No, thanks, Yvette. I just ate.

Now how did you know her name?

We know each other.

Don't we, dear?

Forgive my curiosity, Mr. Boddy, but did your letter say the same thing?

No. I see.

Can I interest any of you in fruit or dessert?

In that case, may I suggest we adjourn to the study for coffee and brandy, at which point I believe our unknown host will reveal his intentions.

Well there's no one here.

Please help yourself to brandy and be seated.

Mind if I smoke?

Ladies and gentlemen, I'm instructed to explain to you what you all have in common with each other.

Unless you would care to do the honours, Mr. Boddy?

Why me? Do they know who I am?

I don't think so. You've never identified yourself to them, I believe.

It's a hoax. I suggest we all leave.

I'm sorry, sir. You cannot leave this house!

No? Who's gonna stop me?

There's no way out. All the windows have bars.

All the doors are locked.

This is an outrage. You can't hold us prisoner!

He's right!

Ladies and gentlemen, please. Please return to the study.

Everything will be explained.

You, too, Mr. Boddy.

Other way!

You can't get out that way.

Why not? It's only glass.

Ladies and gentlemen, you all have one thing in common.

You're all being blackmailed.

For some considerable time, all of you have been paying what you can afford, and in some cases more than you can afford, to someone who threatens to expose you, and none of you know who's blackmailing you. Do you?

Please! I've never heard anything so ridiculous!

Nobody could blackmail me.

My life is an open book. I've never done anything wrong.

Anybody else wish to deny it?

Very well.

As everyone here is in the same boat, there's no harm in my revealing some details.

And my instructions are to do so.

Thank you, Yvette.

Don't you think you might spare us this humiliation.

I'm sorry.

Professor Plum, you were once a professor of psychiatry, specializing in helping paranoid and homicidal lunatics suffering from delusions of grandeur.

Yes, but now I work for the United Nations.

No, your work has not changed. But you don't practice medicine at the UN.

His license to practice has been lifted. Correct?

Why? What did he do?

You know what doctors aren't allowed to do with their lady patients?

Yeah. Well, he did.

How disgusting!

Are you making moral judgements, Mrs. Peacock?

How then do you justify taking bribes in return for delivering your husband.

Senator Peacock's vote to certain lobbyists?

My husband's a paid consultant. There's nothing wrong with that.

Not if it's publicly declared, perhaps.

But if the payment is delivered by slipping used greenbacks in plain envelopes under the door of the men's room, how would you describe that transaction?

I'd say it stinks.

How would you know? When were you in that men's room?

So it's true?

No. It's a vicious lie!

I'm sure we're all glad to hear that.

But you've been paying blackmail for over a year now to keep that story out of the papers.

Well, I am willing to believe you.

I, too, am being blackmailed for something I didn't do.

Me, too. And me.

Not me. You're not being blackmailed?

I'm being blackmailed all right. But I did what I'm being blackmailed for.

What did you do?

Well, to be perfectly frank, I run a specialized hotel and a telephone service which provides gentlemen with the company of a young lady for a short while.


What's the phone number?

So how did you know Colonel Mustard works in Washington?

Is he one of your clients?

Certainly not. I was asking Miss Scarlet.

Well, you tell them it's not true.

It's not true.

Is that true? No, it's not true.

Aha! So it is true! A double negative.

A double negative? Do you mean you have photographs?

That sounds like a confession to me. In fact, the double negative has led to proof positive. I'm afraid you gave yourself away.

Are you trying to make me look stupid in front of the other guests?

You don't need any help from me, sir.

That's right!

Seriously, I don't see what's so terrible about Colonel Mustard visiting a house of ill fame. Most soldiers do, don't they?


But he holds a sensitive security post in the Pentagon.

And, Colonel, you drive a very expensive car for someone who lives on a colonel's pay.

I don't. I came into money during the war when I lost my mommy and daddy.

Mrs. White, you've been paying our friend the blackmailer ever since your husband died under, shall we say, mysterious circumstances.

Why is that funny?

I see. That's why he was lying on his back. In his coffin.

I didn't kill him.

Then why are you paying the blackmailer?

I don't want a scandal, do I?

We had had a very humiliating public confrontation.

He was deranged. He was a lunatic.

He didn't actually seem to like me very much.

He threatened to kill me in public.

Why would he want to kill you in public?

I think she meant he threatened in public to kill her.

Was that his final word on the matter?

Being killed is pretty final, wouldn't you say?

And yet, he was the one who died. Not you, Mrs. White. Not you.

What did he do for a living?

He was a scientist. Nuclear physics.

What was he like?

He was always a rather stupidly optimistic man.

I mean, I'm afraid It came as a great shock to him when he died.

But he was found dead at home. His head had been cut off.

And so had his...

You know.

I had been out all evening at the movies.

Do you miss him?

Well, it's a matter of life after death. Now that he's dead, I have a life.

But he was your second husband.

Your first husband also disappeared.

But that was his job. He was an illusionist.

But he never reappeared.

He wasn't a very good illusionist.

I have something to say.

I'm not gonna wait for Wadsworth here to unmask me.

I work for the State Department, and I'm a homosexual.

I feel no personal shame or guilt about this, but I must keep it a secret or I will lose my job on security grounds.

Thank you.


that just leaves Mr. Boddy.

What's your little secret?

His secret? Haven't you guessed?

He's the one who's blackmailing you.

You bastard!

Put 'em up, pal! Put 'em up!


Pipe that down!

If you can't fight fairly, don't fight at all.

Nobody calls me a bastard!

Was that necessary, Mrs. White?

Wait, wait!

The police are coming.

No, no! No!


Blackmail depends on secrecy.

You've all admitted how he's been able to blackmail you.

All you have to do is tell the police, he'll be convicted and your troubles will be over.

It's not so easy.

You'll never tell the police.

Then I shall. I have evidence in my possession.

And this conversation is being tape recorded.

Point of order. Tape recordings aren't admissible evidence.

Ladies and gentlemen, the police will be here in about 45 minutes.

Tell them the truth, and Mr. Boddy will be behind bars.

Where are you going this time?

I think I can help them make up their minds.

Can I just get my little bag from the hall?

Who can guess what's in here?

The evidence against us, no doubt.

We didn't know we were meeting you tonight.

Did you know you were meeting us?


What were you told, precisely?

Merely, that you were all meeting to discuss our little financial arrangements.

And if I did not appear, Wadsworth would be informing the police about it all.

Naturally, I could hardly resist putting in an appearance.

Excuse me.

Open them.

Why not?

I enjoy getting presents from strange men.

A candlestick?

What's this for?

In your hands, you each have a lethal weapon.

If you denounce me to the police, you will also be exposed and humiliated.

I'll see to that in court.

But if one of you kills Wadsworth now, no one but the seven of us will ever know.

He has the key to the front door, which he said would only be opened over his dead body.

I suggest we take him up on that offer.

The only way to avoid finding yourselves on the front pages, is for one of you to kill Wadsworth now.

It's not Wadsworth! Is he alive?

Mr. Boddy.

Stand back! Give him air!

Let me see.

He's dead!

Who had the gun? I did.

Then you shot him! I didn't!

Well, you had the gun. If you didn't shoot him, who did?

Nobody! Look. There's no gunshot wound.

Somebody tried to grab the gun from me in the dark and the gun went off.

Look! The bullet broke that vase on the mantle.

Sorry. Excuse me. Excuse me. Sorry.

He's absolutely right. Look, there's a bullet hole here in the wall. See that?

How did he die? I don't know!

I'm not a forensic expert!

Well, one of us must have killed him.

I didn't do it.

I need a drink.

Maybe he was poisoned.

Mrs. Peacock, it's all right.

We don't know anything.

Sit down. Sit down.

I had to stop her from screaming.

Was the brandy poisoned?

I don't know.

Looks like we'll never know.


Unless she dies, too.

It's locked.

Open up...

It must be the murderer! Why would he scream?

He must have a victim in there.

Oh my God! Yvette! Oh my God!

You're alive.

No thanks to you. What do you mean?

You locked me up with a murderer, you idiot!

So the murderer is in this room?

Mais oui! But where?

Where? Here.

We're all looking at him or her!

It's what Mrs. White said in the study, one of you is the killer!

How did you know we said that?

I was listening.

Why were you screaming in here all by yourself?

Because I am frightened. Me, too.

I also drink the cognac. Mon Dieu!

I can't stay here by myself.

Come back to the study with us.

With the murderer?

There's safety in numbers, my dear.

Is there no indication of how he died?

No. This is terrible.

This is absolutely terrible.

It's not what I'd intended.

Oh my God!

Not what you intended?

So, you're not the butler?

I'm not the butler, but I am a butler. In fact, I was his butler.

If he told you to invite us all to his house, why did he arrive late?

I invited you. In fact, I wrote the letters.

It was all my idea.

Wait a minute. I don't understand.

Why did you invite us here to meet your late employer?

Were you assisting him to blackmail us?

Certainly not!

I think you had better explain.

Please sit down, everyone.

When I said that I was Mr. Boddy's butler, this was both true and misleading.

I was once his butler, but it was not his untimely death this evening that brought my employment with him to an end.

When did it come to an end?

When my wife decided to end her life.

She, too, was being blackmailed by this odious man who now lies dead before us.

He hated my wife for the same reason that he hated all of you.

He believed that you were all thoroughly un-American.

I'm sorry.

For some reason he felt that it was inappropriate for a senator to have a corrupt wife, for a doctor to take advantage of his patients, for a wife to emasculate her husband, and so forth.

But this is ridiculous.

If he was such a patriotic American, why didn't he just report us to the authorities?

He decided to put his information to good use and make a little money out of it.

What could be more American than that?

What was your role in all this?

I was a victim, too.

At least, my wife was.

She had friends who were socialists.

Oh my God.

Well, we all make mistakes.

But Mr. Boddy threatened to give my wife's name to the House Un-American Activities Committee unless she named them.

She refused, and so he blackmailed her.

We had no money. And the price of his silence was that we work for him for nothing. We were slaves.

Well, to make a long story short...

Too late.

The suicide of my wife preyed on my mind and created a sense of injustice in me.

I resolved to put Mr. Boddy behind bars.

It seemed to me the best way to do it and to free all of you from the same burden of blackmail was to get everyone face to face, confront Mr. Boddy with his crimes, and then turn him over to the police.

So, everything is explained.

Nothing's explained. We still don't know who killed him.

The point is we've got to find out in the next 39 minutes before the police arrive.

My God. We can't have them come here now.

But how can we possibly find out which of you did it?

What do you mean, "which of you did it"?

Well, I didn't do it!

Well, one of us did. We all had the opportunity. We all had a motive.

Great! We'll all go to the chair.

Maybe it wasn't one of us! Who else could it have been?

Who else is in the house?

Only the cook! Only the cook!

The cook! The cook!

Well, she's not here.

I didn't do it!

Somebody help me, please.

Somebody hep me, please!

Don't touch it.

That's evidence.

Not for us. We have to find out who did this.

We can't take fingerprints.

I think you'd better explain yourself, Wadsworth.

Me? Why me?

Who would want to kill the cook?

Dinner wasn't that bad.

How can you make jokes at a time like this?

It's my defence mechanism.

Some defence. If I was the killer, I would kill you next.

I said "if". If.

Hey, come on. There's only one admitted killer here.

And it is certainly not me. It is her.

I've admitted nothing.

Well, you paid the blackmail. How many husbands have you had?

Mine or other women's?

Yours. Five.

Five? Yes. Just the five.

Husbands should be like Kleenex, soft, strong, and disposable.

You lure men to their deaths like a spider with flies.

Flies are where men are most vulnerable.


Well, if it wasn't you, then who was it?

Who had the dagger, anyway?

It was you, Mrs. Peacock, wasn't it?

Yes. But I put it down.

Where? In the study.

When? I don't know.

Before I fainted, or after I fainted...

I don't know! But any of you could have picked it up.

Look. I suggest we take the cook's body into the study.


I'm the butler. I like to keep the kitchen tidy.

Look! What?

The body's gone!

What are you all staring at?


Well, who's there? Nobody.

What do you mean? Nobody.

No body, that's what we mean. Mr. Boddy's body, it's gone.

Maybe he wasn't dead. He was!

We should've made sure.

How? By cutting his head off, I suppose?

That was uncalled for. Where is he?

We'd better look for him.

Well... he couldn't have been dead.

He was. At least, I thought he was.

What difference does it make now?

Makes quite a difference to him.

Maybe there is life after death.

Life after death's as improbable as sex after marriage.

Maybe Mr. Boddy killed the cook!

Yes! Yes!


I don't know.

Well, if you'll excuse me. I have to... ls there a little girl's room in the hall? Oui, oui. Madame.

No, I just want to powder my nose. Thank you.

What's this, Wadsworth?

I'm afraid those are the negatives to which Colonel Mustard earlier referred.

Oh my God.

Were you planning to blackmail him, Wadsworth?

Certainly not. I'd obtained them for the colonel and I was going to give them back as soon as Mr. Boddy was unmasked.

Very pretty. Would you like to see these, Yvette? They might shock you.

No, merci. I am a lady.

How do you know what kind of pictures they are if you're such a lady?

What sort of pictures are they?

They are my pictures and I'd like them back please.

No. I'm afraid there's something in them that concerns me, too.

Let me see.

Oh my. Nobody can get into that position.

Sure they can.

Let me show you.

Get off me.

It's Mr. Boddy!

He's attacking her.


No. No, he's dead.

Mr. Boddy. Dead again!

Oh my God.

She's going to faint.

Somebody catch her!

I'll catch her. Fall into my arms.


You've got blood on your hands.

I didn't do it!

He's got new injuries. Well, he's certainly dead now.

Why would anyone want to kill him twice?

Seems so unnecessary.

That's what we call overkill.

What we call psychotic.

Unless he wasn't dead before.

What's the difference?

That's what we're trying to find out! We're trying to find out who killed him, and where, and with what!

There's no need to shout!

I'm not shouting!

All right, I am!

I'm shouting! I'm shouting! I'm shou...

Okay, put the corpses on the sofa.

Ladies first.

Careful. Don't get blood on the sofa.

How do we do this? The dagger will go further into her back.

Tip her forward over the arm.

Now Mr. Boddy.


A little higher.

There we go.

Now. Who...

Who had access to the candlestick?

All of us. It was given to you.

Yeah, but I dropped it on the table.

Anyone could've picked it up. You, him.

Look. We still have these weapons, the gun, the rope, the wrench, the lead pipe.

Let's put them all in this cupboard and lock it.

There's a homicidal maniac about.

I think that's wise. Good idea.

What are you doing with the key? Putting it in my pocket.

Why? To keep it safe, obviously.

That means that you can open it whenever you want.

But it also means that you can't. What if you're the murderer?

I'm not.

But what if you are?

Well, it's got to be put somewhere. If I've got it, I know I'm safe.

We don't know that we are.

I've an idea. We'll throw it away.

Good idea! Good idea!

Wonderful! Right away! Brilliant.

That'll do it.



Can we help?

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb the whole household, but my car broke down out here and I was wondering if I could use your phone.

Just a moment please.

Very well, sir.

Would you care to come in?

Well, where is it?

What, the body?

The phone. What body?

There's no body. Nobody. There's nobody in the study.

No! No!

But I think there's a phone in the lounge.

Thank you.

When you've finished your call, perhaps you'd be good enough to wait here.


Where's the key?

In my pocket.

Not that key. The key to the cupboard.

With the weapons. Do you still wish me to throw it away?

Yes! Yes!

Well, what now?

Wadsworth, let me out.

No. Why not?

We've got to know who did it. We're all in this together now.

If you leave, I'll say that you killed them both.

Me, too. Me, too.

Wadsworth, I'll make you sorry you ever started this.

One day, when we're alone together...

Mrs. White, no man in his right mind would be alone together with you.

Well, I could use a drink.

So could I.

Just checking. Everything all right?

Yep. Two corpses. Everything's fine.

Anybody else want a whiskey?


All right, look.

Pay attention, everybody.

Wadsworth, am I right in thinking there is nobody else in this house?


Then there is someone else in this house?

No, sorry. I said "no" meaning yes. "No" meaning yes?

Look. I want a straight answer.

Is there someone else or isn't there, yes or no?


No, there is, or no there isn't?



Don't you think we should get that man out of the house before he finds out what's been going on here?


How can we throw him outside in this weather?

If we let him stay in the house, he may get suspicious.

If we throw him out, he may get even more suspicious.

If I were him, I'd be suspicious already.

Oh, who cares? That guy doesn't matter.

Let him stay locked up for another half an hour.

The police will be here by then, and there are two dead bodies in the study!

Well, there's still some confusion as to whether or not there's anybody else in this house.

I told you there isn't.

There isn't any confusion or there isn't anybody else?

Either. Or both. Just give me a clear answer.

Certainly. What was the question? Is there anybody else in the house?

No! No!

That's what he says, but does he know?

I suggest we handle this in proper military fashion.

We split up and search the house.

Split up?

Yes. We have very little time left, so we'll split up into pairs.

Pairs? Yes.

Wait a minute. Suppose that one of us is the murderer.

If we split up into pairs, whichever one of us is left with the killer might get killed.

Then we would've discovered who the murderer is.

But the other half of the pair would be dead!

This is war, Peacock. Casualties are inevitable.

You cannot make an omelet without breaking eggs.

Every cook will tell you that.

But look what happened to the cook.

Colonel, are you willing to take that chance?

What choice have we?


I suppose you're right.

Bon, d'accord. But it is dark upstairs.

And I'm frightened of the dark.

Will anyone go with me?

I will. I will.

No, thank you.

I suggest we all draw lots for partners.

Ready? The two shortest together, the next two shortest together. Agreed?

And I suggest that the two shortest search the cellar, and so on, up.

It's you and me, honeybunch.


The cellar.

Well, we know what's in the study.

We've just come from the library and the stranger's locked up in the lounge.

Let's go look in the billiard room again.

Do you want to go up in front of me?

Absolutely non.

I'm sure there's no one up there.

Then you go in front.

All right.

Well, ladies first.

No, no, you can go first.

No, no, no, no, I insist. No, I insist.

Well, what are you afraid of? A fate worse than death?

No. Just death. Isn't that enough?

Are you going in there? Yes. Are you?


Right. Right.

I don't see any light switches in there.

No, neither do I. But there must be switches somewhere.

Shall I come in with you? No!

I mean, no, thank you.

Ladies first.

No, thanks.

Go on. I'll be right behind you.

That's why I'm nervous.

Then we go together.

Stay there.

If there's anybody in here, just look out!

Are you hiding?

I'm coming.

What room is this?

Search me.

All right.

Get your mitts off me.

Nobody here.

He's behind one of those curtains.

You look. I'll search the kitchen.

I'm a little nervous.

I'm in this big house, and I've been locked into the lounge.


The funny thing is, there's a whole group of people here having some sort of party, and one of them is my old boss from...


Looks like a secret passage.

Should we see where it leads?

What the hell.

I'll go first. I've had a good life.

Aah! Oh, God! It's all right.

Oh my God!

Come on!

Please! Help us!

Help! Help!

Down here!

Down here! Get us out of here! Please!

Where's it coming from?

Where are we going?

Where are they? The lounge!

The door is locked!

I know. Then unlock it.

Where's the key?

The key's gone!

Never mind about the key. Unlock the door!

I can't unlock the door without the key!

Let us in! Let us in!

Let us out! Let us out!

It's no good. Stand back.

There's no alternative. I'm just going to have to break it down.

I know! I have it!


Will you shut up? We're doing our best.


They're shooting at us.

I've been shot.

I've been shot. Come out. The door is open.

Why are you shooting that thing at us?

To get you out.

You know you could've killed us.

I could've been killed!

I can't take any more scares.

But, look!

Which one of you did it?

We found him together.

How did you get in? The door was locked.

It's a great trick.

There's a secret passageway from the conservatory.

Is that the same gun? From the cupboard?

But it was locked!

No. It was unlocked. Unlocked?

But yes. See for yourself.

How did you know it was unlocked?

How did you know that you could get at the gun?

I didn't.

I think I would break it open, but it was open already.

A likely story.

Maybe they'll just go away.

I'm going to open it. Why?

I have nothing to hide.

I didn't do it.

The key.

Thank you.

Good evening, sir.


I found an abandoned car down near the gates of this house.

Did the driver come in here for any help by any chance?

No, no. No.

Well, actually, yes. No.

There seems to be some kind of disagreement.

No. No.


Can I come in and use your phone?

Of course you may, sir.

You may use the one in the...

No. You could use the one in the st...


Would you be kind enough to wait in the...

In the library.


Don't I know you from someplace?

You all seem to be very anxious about something.

It's the chandelier, fell down and almost killed us.

Would you like to come this way please, sir?

Frightfully drafty, these old houses.

Please help yourself to a drink, if you'd like.

Not the cognac, just in case.

Just in case of what?

What now?

We should've told him.

All very well for you to say that now. I said it then.

Shut up!

Let's clean this up.


Maybe the cop answered it.

And who shall I say is calling?

Would you hold on, please?

Let me out of here! Let me out of here! You have no right to shut me in.

I'll book you for false arrest and wrongful imprisonment and obstructing an officer in the course of his duty, and murder!

What do you mean, murder?

I just said it so you would open the door. What's going on around here?

And why would you lock me in?

And why are you receiving phone calls from J. Edgar Hoover?

J. Edgar Hoover? That's right.

The head of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

Why is J. Edgar Hoover on your phone?

I don't know. He's on everybody else's. Why shouldn't he be on mine?

Excuse me.

What's going on here?

We're having a party.

Mind if I look around? Sure.

You can show him around, Mr. Green.


Yes. You can show him the dining room, the kitchen, the ballroom.



Officer, come with me. I'll show you the dining room or the kitchen or the ballroom.

Make it look convincing.

So, this is the dining room.

No kidding?

Come on!

What's going on in those two rooms?

Which two rooms?

Those two rooms.

Oh, those two rooms.


Officer, I don't think you should go in there.

Why not?

Because it's all too shocking.

It's not all that shocking.

These folks are just having a good time.

Oh my God.

Excuse me.

This man's drunk.

Dead drunk.

Dead right.

You're not gonna drive home, are you?

He won't be driving home, Officer. I promise you that.


Somebody will give him a lift, huh?

Oh, we'll get him a car.

A long black car.

A limousine.

Officer. You're too late. I've seen it all.

You have? I can explain everything.

You don't have to. I don't?

Don't worry. There's nothing illegal about any of this.

Are you sure?

Of course. This is America.

I see. It's a free country. Don't you know that?

I didn't know it was that free.

May I use your phone now?


Why did you lock him in again?

We haven't finished searching the house yet.

We're running out of time. Only 15 minutes before the police come.

The police already came!

Shut up! Shut up!

Let's get on with it. Monsieur.


I can't believe it.

I wonder where this one goes. Well, let's find out.


Let's try the ballroom again.

Don't you touch me!

Hello? Hello?

Shut the door.

Did anyone recognize you?

They must have, and not just my face.

They know every inch of my body, and they're not the only ones.

It's you!

There's something funny going on around here.

I don't know what it is.

No, I'm not on duty, but I have a feeling that I'm in danger.

You know that big ugly house on top...

Hello? Hello?

Are you there?

♪ Da da da da da da ♪

♪ I am your singing telegram ♪

I'm coming! I'm coming!

Help me! I'm just trying to find the door.

Help me!

Help me!


What's this?

Another door?

Two murders.

Neither of them shot.

I thought I heard a gun. So did I.

I thought I heard the front door slam. Oh God.

The murderer must've run out.

Three murders?

Six, all together.

This is getting serious.

No gun. Yvette dropped it here.

Very well, I know who did it.

You do?

And furthermore, I'm gonna tell you how it was all done.

Follow me.

In order to help you understand what happened, I shall need to take you through the events of the evening step-by-step.

At the start of the evening, Yvette was here by herself, waiting to offer you all a glass of champagne.

I was in the hall.

I know because I was there.

Then I hurried across to the kitchen.

And the cook was in here, alive, sharpening knives, preparing for dinner.

And then... the doorbell rang.

And it was you. Yes.

I asked you for your coat, and I recognized you as Colonel Mustard.

And I prevented you from telling me your real name because I didn't want any of you to use any name other than your pseudonym.

And I introduced myself to you as a butler, and I made across the hall to the library.

And then Yvette met you and smiled and poured you a drink.

And the doorbell rang.

And it was Mrs. White looking pale and tragic.

And I took her coat and hung it up.

And I introduced Mrs. White to Colonel Mustard.

"Hello." "Hello."

And I noticed that Mrs. White and Yvette flinched.

Then there was a rumble of thunder and a crash of lightning.

And to make a long story short... Too late!

One by one you all arrived.

And then the gong was struck by the cook.

And we went into the dining room.

And Mrs. Peacock sat here. And Professor Plum sat here.

And Mrs. White sat here.

Mr. Green, Miss Scarlet, Colonel Mustard.

This chair was vacant.

Anyway, we all revealed we'd all received a letter.

You had had a letter, and you had had a letter, and you had a letter.

Get on with it!

The point is... Blackmail!

All this came out after dinner in the study.

You're right!

Mr. Green stood here.

And Mrs. Peacock here.

And Miss Scarlet here. Professor Plum here.

And Colonel Mustard and Mrs. White.

Get on with it! I'm getting there, I'm getting there.

And Mr. Boddy went to get the surprise packages from the hall.

And you all opened your presents.

Mr. Boddy switched off the lights.


Mr. Boddy lay on the floor apparently dead.

He was dead! I examined him.

Then why was he bashed on the head a few minutes later with a candlestick if he was dead already?

All right, I made a mistake.

Right, but if so, why was Mr. Boddy pretending to be dead?

It could only be 'cause he realized his scheme had misfired, and the gunshot was intended to kill him, not me.

Look. The bullet grazed his ear.

Clearly his best hope of escaping death was to pretend to be dead already.

So whoever tried to grab the gun from me in the dark was trying to kill him.

But remember what happened next.

Mrs. Peacock took a drink.

You said, "Maybe it's poisoned."

She screams. "Aah!"

We took her to the sofa.

Mr. Green...

"Well, I had to stop her screaming."

Then, more screaming.

Yvette! The billiard room!

We all rushed out.

But one of us wasn't here. No.

No? No.

Maybe one of us was murdering the cook.

Who wasn't here with us?

Do you know? I do.

While we stood here, trying to stop Yvette from panicking, one of us could have stayed in the study, picked up the dagger, run down the hall, and stabbed the cook!

How could he risk it? We might've seen him running back.

Not if they used this secret passage.

And the murderer ran back down the secret passage to the study.

That's where it comes out?

Yes! Look!

What? How did you know?

This house belongs to a friend of mine. I've known all along.

So you could be the murderer.

Don't be ridiculous. If I was the murderer, would I reveal to you how I did it?

Well, who else knew about the secret passage?

We found it, Colonel Mustard and me.

You found it. You could've known about it all the time.

But I didn't.

Well, why should we believe you?

Because she was with us all in the billiard room doorway while Yvette was screaming, don't you remember?

But what I don't understand is why was the cook murdered? She had nothing to do with Mr. Boddy.

Of course she did.

I gathered you all here together because you were all implicated in Mr. Boddy's dastardly blackmail.

Did none of you deduce the others were involved, too?

What others? The cook and Yvette.


That's how he got all his information.

Before he could blackmail anyone, Mr. Boddy had to discover their guilty secret.

The cook and Yvette were his accomplices.

I see.

So whoever knew that the cook was involved killed her?


I know, because I was Mr. Boddy's butler, that the cook had worked for one of you.


You recognized Yvette, didn't you?

Don't deny it.

What do you mean don't deny it?

I'm not denying anything.

Another denial.

All right, it's true, I knew Yvette.

My husband had an affair with her, but I didn't care, I wasn't jealous.

You knew Yvette, too, didn't you?

Yes. She worked for me.

And you also knew her, sir.

We've already established that you were one of Miss Scarlet's clients.

That's why you were so desperate to get your hands on those negatives, photographs of you and Yvette in flagrante delicto, remember?

Mr. Boddy threatened to send those pictures to my dear old mother, the shock would've killed her.

That would've been quite an achievement, since you told us that she's dead already.

So, he had the motive.

You all had a motive.

But where and when was Mr. Boddy killed?

Don't you see? Look.

We came back to the study with Yvette.

Mr. Boddy was on the floor, pretending to be dead, but one of us knows he's alive.

So I explained that I was Mr. Boddy's butler and I'd invited you here.

And we realized there was only one other person in the house.

The cook!

Well, where is he?

By now she was dead.

We laid her down with our backs to the freezer.

One of us slipped through the same secret passage.


Of course. Back to the study.

The murderer was in the secret passage.

Meanwhile, Mr. Boddy had been on the floor.

He jumped up.

The murderer came out of the secret panel, picked up the candlestick.

Mr. Boddy followed us out of the study and into the hall looking for an escape.

The murderer crept up behind him and killed him!

Will you stop that?


Then he threw him into the toilet and nonchalantly rejoined us besides the cook's body in the kitchen.

It took less than half a minute.

So who wasn't there the entire time in the kitchen?

Whoever it was is the murderer.

And we put the weapons in the cupboard locked it, and ran to the front door to throw away the key.

The motorist!

I didn't throw the key away. I put it in my pocket.

And someone could've taken it out of my pocket and substituted another.

We were all in a huddle.

Anyone of us could've done that. Precisely.

Wait a minute.

Colonel Mustard has a top-secret Pentagon job.

Mrs. White's husband was a nuclear physicist, and...

Yvette is a link between them.

What's your top-secret job, Colonel?

I can tell you. He's working on the secret of the next fusion bomb.

How did you know that?

Can you keep a secret? Yes.

So can I.

Is this a plot between them, Wadsworth, or did Colonel Mustard do it alone?

We shall see. Let's look at the other murders.

Yes. Bad luck that motorist arrived at that moment.

It wasn't luck. I invited him.

You did? Of course, it's obvious.

Everyone here tonight was either Mr. Boddy's victim or accomplice.

Everyone who's died gave him vital information about one of you.

I got them here so they'd give evidence against him and force him to confess.

Yeah? What about that motorist?

What kind of information did he have?

He was my driver during the war.

And what was he holding over you?

He knew that I was a war profiteer.

I stole essential air force radio parts, and I sold them on the black market.

That is how I made all my money.

But that doesn't make me a murderer.

Well, a lot of our airmen died because their radios didn't work.

Was the policeman working for Mr. Boddy, too?

The cop was from Washington.

He was on my payroll.

I bribed him once a week so I could carry on with business.

Mr. Boddy found out somehow.

Oh my God!

Oh please.

And the singing telegram girl?

She was my patient once.

I had an affair with her.

That's how I lost my license.

Mr. Boddy found that out, too.

Well, let's put her in the study with the others.

So, now you all know why they died.

Whoever killed Mr. Boddy also wanted his accomplices dead.

How did the murderer know about them all?

I mean I admit that I'd guessed that this young singer informed on me to Mr. Boddy.

But I didn't know anything about any of you until this evening.

First, the murderer needed to get the weapons. Easy.

He stole the key from my pocket.

And then we all followed Colonel Mustard's suggestion that we split up and search the house.

That's right.

It was Colonel Mustard's suggestion.

And one of us got away from his or her partner and hurried to the study.

On the desk was the envelope from Mr. Boddy.

It contained photographs and letters, the evidence of Mr. Boddy's network of informants.

Where is the envelope now?



Perhaps in the fire.

The only possible place.


Then, having found out the whole story, the murderer went to the cupboard, unlocked it with the key, took out the wrench...

Then we found the secret passage from the conservatory to the lounge, where we found the motorist dead.

That's right. And we couldn't get in.

So Yvette ran to the open cupboard, got the gun, and shot the door open. Bang!

And then the doorbell rang.

Whoever it is, they've got to go away, or they'll be killed.

Good evening. Have you ever given any thought to the kingdom of heaven?


Repent. The kingdom of heaven is at hand.

You ain't just whistling Dixie.

Armageddon is almost upon us.

I got news for you. It's already here.

Go away!

But your souls are in danger.

Our lives are in danger, you beatnik!

The cop arrived next.

We locked him in the library.

We forgot the cupboard with the weapons was now unlocked.

Then we split up again, and the murderer switched off the electricity.

Oh my God!

Not again.

Turn on the lights!

Sorry. Didn't mean to frighten you.

You're a bit late for that!

I hate when he does that.

Then there were three more murders.

So which of us killed them?

None of us killed Mr. Boddy or the cook.

So who did?

The one person who wasn't with us.


Yvette? Yvette?

She was in the billiards room listening to our conversation.

She heard the gunshot. She thought he was dead.

And while we all examined the bullet hole, she crept into the study, picked up the dagger, ran to the kitchen, and stabbed the cook.

We didn't hear the cook scream because Mrs. Peacock was screaming about the poisoned brandy.

Then Yvette returned to the billiard room.

She screamed, and we all ran to her.

When did she kill Mr. Boddy?

When I said.

We all ran to the kitchen to see the cook.

Yvette hid in the study to check that Mr. Boddy was dead.

He got up and followed them down the hall.

So she hit him on the head with the candlestick, and dragged him to the toilet.


To create confusion.

It worked.

Why did she do it?

Was it because she was acting under orders from the person who later killed her?

Who? Who?


Was it one of her clients?

Or was it a jealous wife?

Or an adulterous doctor?


It was her employer, Miss Scarlet.

That's a lie!

Is it?

You used her the way you always used her.

You killed the motorist when we split up to search the house.

How could I have known about the secret passage?

Easy. Yvette told you.

So when we split up again, you switched off the electricity.

It was easy for you here on the ground floor.

Then, in the dark, you got the lead pipe, and the rope, strangled Yvette, ran to the library, killed the cop, picked up the gun where Yvette dropped it, opened the front door, recognized the singing telegram from her photograph, and shot her.

You've no proof.

The gun is missing.

Gentlemen, turn out your pockets.

Ladies, empty your purses.

Whoever has the gun is the murderer.

Brilliantly worked out, Wadsworth.

I congratulate you.

Me, too.

Shut up!

Now there's one thing I don't understand.

One thing?

Why did you do it?

Half of Washington knows what kind of business you run.

You were in no real danger.

The whole town would be implicated if you were exposed.

I don't think they know my real business.

My business is secrets.

And Yvette found them out for me.

The secrets of Senator Peacock's defence committee, of Colonel Mustard's fusion bomb, Professor Plum's UN contacts, and the work of your husband, the nuclear physicist.

So, it is political.

You're a communist!

No, Mr. Green, communism is just a red herring.

Like all members of the oldest profession, I'm a capitalist, and I'm gonna sell my secrets, your secrets, to the highest bidder.

What if we don't cooperate?

You will, or I'll expose you.

We could expose you. Six murders?

I hardly think it will enhance your reputation at the UN, Professor Plum, if it's revealed that you've been implicated not only in adultery with one of your patients but in her death and the deaths of five other people.

You don't know what kind of people they have at the UN.

I might go up in their estimation.

And it's no good blackmailing me, madam.

I have no more money.

Neither do I. Neither do I.

I know, sweetie pie.

But you can pay me in government information.

All of you.

Except you, Wadsworth.

You as a mere butler have no access to government secrets.

So, I'm afraid your moment has come.

Not so fast, Miss Scarlet.

I do have a secret or two.

Oh yeah? Such as? The game's up, Scarlet.

There are no more bullets left in that gun.

Come on. You don't think I'm gonna fall for that old trick.

It's not a trick.

There was one shot at Mr. Boddy in the study, two for the chandelier, two at the lounge door, and one for the singing telegram.

That's not six. One plus two plus two plus one.

It was only one shot that got the chandelier.

That's one plus two plus one plus one.

Even if you are right, that'll be one plus one plus two plus one.

Not one plus two plus one plus one.

Okay, fine, one plus two plus one... Shut up!

Point is there's one bullet left in this gun.

And guess who's gonna get it?

I'm only a guest.

Where's the chief?

Wadsworth, well done.

I did warn you, my dear.

Mr. Hoover is an expert on Armageddon.

Wadsworth. Don't hate me for trying to shoot you.

Frankly, Scarlet, I don't give a damn.

As I was trying to tell you, there are no bullets left in this gun, you see?

One plus two... plus one...

Plus two... plus one is...

In the dark, the murderer ran across the hall to the study, picked up the rope and the lead pipe, ran to the billiard room, strangled Yvette.

Ran to the library, hit the cop on the head with the lead pipe.

Then, coming out of the library, the doorbell rang. It was a singing telegram.

The murderer picked up the gun where Yvette dropped it, ran to the door, opened it, recognized the girl from her photograph, shot her, and then ran back to the cellar.

The cellar! Yes.

But Colonel Mustard wasn't in the cellar.

No, but you were.


You murdered them all.

You were the person who was missing when the cook and Mr. Boddy were murdered, and the cook used to be your cook.

Don't you remember your fatal mistake?

You told us at dinner that we were eating one of your favourite recipes, and monkey's brains, though popular in Cantonese cuisine, are not often to be found in Washington, D.C.

Is that what we ate?

Why would I have murdered all the others?

Obviously, in case Mr. Boddy had told them about you.

So this all had nothing to do with the disappearing nuclear physicist and Colonel Mustard's work on the new fusion bomb.

No. Communism was just a red herring.

Mrs. Peacock did it all.

There's no proof.

Well, the gun is missing.

Gentlemen, turn out your pockets.

Ladies, empty your purses.

Whoever has the gun is the murderer. Very well.

What do you propose to do about it?


Nothing? Nothing at all.

I don't approve of murder, but it seems to me you've done the world a public service by ridding it of an appalling blackmailer and his disgusting informers.

But the police will be here any minute. What happens then?

Why should the police come?

Nobody's called them.

You mean... That's right.

Now I suggest that we stack the bodies in the cellar, lock it, leave quietly one at a time, and pretend that none of this has ever happened.

Great idea.

I'll leave first, if you don't mind.

Be my guest.

In fact, I think we all owe you a vote of thanks.

♪ For she's a jolly good fellow ♪

♪ For she's a jolly good fellow ♪

♪ For she's a jolly good fellow ♪

♪ Which nobody can deny ♪

♪ Which nobody can deny ♪

♪ Which nobody can deny ♪

♪ For she's a jolly good fellow ♪

♪ For she's a jolly good fellow ♪

♪ For she's a jolly... ♪ I told you I didn't do it.

But what if the authorities find out what happened?

The FBI will take care of that.

You mean... My phonecall from Mr. Hoover.

I work for him of course.

How else could I have known everything about you all?

There's still one thing I don't understand.

One thing?

Who was Mrs. Peacock taking bribes from?

A foreign power.

Her husband, the senator, has influence over defence contracts.

Is there gonna be a cover-up?

Isn't that in the public interest? What could be gained by exposure?

But does the FBI have a habit of cleaning up after multiple murder?

Yes. Why do you think it's run by a man called Hoover?

Oh, Mrs. Peacock.

How did you know my name?

The kingdom of heaven is at hand.

Okay, take her away.

Take your hands off me!

I'm a senator's wife!

Wadsworth, we got her.

You see, it's like the Mounties.

We always get our man.

Mrs. Peacock was a man?

Would anyone care for fruit or dessert?

Sorry, didn't mean to frighten anyone.

You're a bit late for that!

Then there were three more murders.

So who did it? So who did it?

Let's consider each murder one by one.

Professor Plum. You knew that Mr. Boddy was still alive.

Even psychiatrists can tell the difference between patients who are alive or dead.

You fired the gun in the dark, and missed, so you pretended he was dead that's how you were able to kill him later, unobserved.

That's right. He was the missing person in the kitchen after we found the cook dead.

But he was with us in the billiard room when we found Yvette screaming.

If that's when the cook was killed, how did he do it?

I didn't!

You don't expect us to believe that, do you?

I expect you to believe it. You killed the cook, she used to be your cook, and she informed on you to Mr. Boddy.

You made one fatal mistake.

Sitting here at dinner, Mrs. Peacock told us she was eating one of her favourite recipes, and monkey's brains, though popular in Cantonese cuisine, are not often to be found in Washington, D.C.

Colonel Mustard, when we saw the motorist at the front door, you took the key to the weapons cupboard out of my pocket, then you suggested that we all split up.

You separated from Miss Scarlet, crossed the hall, opened the cupboard, took the wrench, ran to the conservatory, entered the lounge through the secret passage, killed the motorist with a blow on the head, like that!

This is incredible.

Not so incredible as what happened next.

After we all split up again, I went upstairs with you, yes, you, Mrs. White.

And while I was in the master bedroom, you hurried downstairs and turned off the electricity, got the rope from the open cupboard, and throttled Yvette.

Your were jealous that your husband was shtupping Yvette.

That's why you killed him, too.


Yes, I did it. I killed Yvette.

I hated her so much, it flames, flames on the side of my face, breathing, heaving breaths, heaving...

But while we were in the billiard room, Miss Scarlet seized the opportunity and under cover of darkness, crossed to the library, where she hit the cop, whom she'd been bribing, on the head with a lead pipe.

True or false?

True. Who are you, Perry Mason?

So, it must have been Mr. Green who shot the singing telegram.

I didn't do it!

Well there's nobody else left.

But I didn't do it!

The gun is missing. Whoever's got the gun, shot the girl.

I shot her.

You? You?

So, it was you.

I was going to expose you.

I know. So I choose to expose myself.

Please. There are ladies present.

You thought Mr. Boddy was dead. But why?

None of you even met him till tonight.

You're Mr. Boddy!

Wait a minute!

So who did I kill?

My butler.

Oh shucks!

He was expendable, like all of you.

I'm grateful to you all for disposing of my network of spies and informers.

Saved me a lot of trouble. Now there's no evidence against me.

This all has nothing to do with my disappearing nuclear physicist husband or Colonel Mustard's work with the new, top secret fusion bomb?


Communism was just a red herring.

But the police will be here any minute.

You'll never get away with this, any of you.

Why should the police come? Nobody's called them.

You mean...

Oh my God. Of course!

So why shouldn't we get away with it?

We'll stack the bodies in the cellar, lock it, leave quietly, one at a time, and forget that any of this ever happened.

And you'll just go on blackmailing us all.

Of course. Why not?

I'll tell you why not.

Good shot, Green.

Very good.

Are you a cop?

No. I'm a plant. A plant?

I thought men like you were usually called a fruit.

Very funny.

FBI. That phone call from J. Edgar Hoover was for me.

I told you I didn't do it.

All right, who done it?

They... She did... That lady... He...

This one... Gentlemen...

They all did it!

But if you want to know who killed Mr. Boddy, I did, in the hall, with the revolver.

Okay, Chief, take them away.

I'm gonna go home and sleep with my wife.