Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Bad luck, Pamela.
[ Sighs ]
I'm sorry the old one couldn't tell you the truth...
What did you expect him to do?
To the apartment. Matches mine exactly.
Mrs. Lampert, listen to me. You're not safe as long as you have these stamps.
Well, I can't very well leave without a pair of water wings, can I?
Take me a while to get used to your new name. What is it?
Upsy-daisy.
Acro-nylon. Fibrous resistant.
That all he needs is a codebook, a cyanide pill and he's in business.
- Ηurry up and change. I'm starved. - Let me know what you want to eat...
Reggie. Reggie.
- Yes, sir. Go right in. - Thank you.
What was it?
217. Thank you, marine.
That means killing Gideon didn't get it for him.
I don't know, Herman. Maybe you do.
[ Horn Honking ]
- Uh - - Oh!
I'll give you a chance, Dyle, which is more than you'd give me.
- I believe what he said. - No, no. It’s just a lot of words.
If you think you're getting credit for this, you're crazy.
Then prove it to me.
It sailed for Venezuela this morning at 7:00.
Oh, naturally. Just like I'd tell you if I had it.
[ Laughing ]
Don't you know it's impolite to leave someone holding... the phone?
Adam, that money doesn't belong to us.
I can't understand you at all.
All right, turn around.
What about that key?
In the lobby?
Well, Herman. You have something to hide?
- I guess they just can't help it. - Ηmm?
If it's not here, why bother him?
waiting for the rest of us to give up and go home.
We all know Carson Dyle is dead, Mrs. Lampert.
I'm trying to prove it. They think I'm working with them, but I'm not, Reggie.
- [ Groaning ] - Oh, Peter. Are you hurt?
But I don't understand. Why do you want a divorce?
qui ici au Black Sheep Club, I'attraction, c'est vous!
So it's good-bye, Alexander Dyle, welcome home, Peter Joshua.
I'm sorry, uh - I was just, uh -
What are you trying to say, that I might have killed Charles and Scobie?
[ Burps ] and my apartment.
- But what? - I don't know. I don't know.
You could have the stamps. I'll get you some here, okay?
- Shakespeare never said that. - Ηow do you know?
Tell us if you recogni - Oh.
- I've tried to make it work, really I have, but - - But what?
Looks like it.
- But I had nothing to do with it. - You've got the money now. It belongs to me.
Yes, Mr. Dyle. I remember.
- That's right. Now go and eat your dinner. - Oh, I could eat a horse.
[ Horn Honks ]
Ohh.
There was no trace of him.
causes no more than a slight tickling sensation...
I can't think of a reason in the world why you should.
Mr. Hamilton Bartholomew.
- Rub your own blinking foot. - The truth now. Was it my hide, or those stamps?
It is only a guess, of course.
Crooked? I should think you'd be glad to find out I'm not crooked.
mais sans servir les mains.
Yes.
You want the envelope?
- Ηe was American, your husband? - Swiss.
He's just tryin' to throw us off. They got it, I tell ya.
All right, where's the letter?
[ Water Running ]
5:00, Thursday, the gardens.
Thank you.
Meaning what?
[ Laughing ] Everyone.
But sneakin' up thataway by yourself.
only Charles couldn't wait quite as long as the others.
Nothing, I guess. What happened then?
You took the words right out of my mouth.
"Megève can be so lovely at this time of year.
[ Woman On P.A. ] Mr. Dyle, pIease. You're wanted on the telephone.
Did you ever hear of anyone taking a shower with their shoes on?
- [ Door Opens ] - [ Screams ]
Come in. I've got something that stings like crazy.
- Ηowdy. - What do you want?
Come on, Jean-Louis. We'll have a treasure hunt.
- Yes, but we're divorced. - "But we're divorced."
Your husband possessed a ticket of passage on the Maranguape.
- Can I have one of those? - One of what?
Listen, I-I only came in for an estimate.
Mr. Dyle, or Mr. Joshua - Which is it?
Oh.
Is that why you dragged me all the way up here? To ask me that?
Mr. Dyle. Cabin four, pIease.
- Where did he go? - Out the window, I guess.
You mean... he might have?
- Are you sure? - Yes, I'm sure.
- I think it only said where. - Come on, Reggie, think.
Wallet
[ Dog Barking ]
- Lampert's the name on the marriage license. - I'm terribly sorry.
Peter, help me. You're the only one I can trust.
But we're divorced.
Then who does?
All right, I'll take Tex's room here and Gideon's.
How could I with the three Marx Brothers breathing down my neck?