The detectives began their investigation by shutting Lewis and Hastings in a cupboard and locking the door. "Let's face it," said Morse to Poirot, "that's basically what we do with them during normal investigations".
"Alas yes mon ami" answered Poirot, who began brushing imaginary specks of dust from his suit.
"Ah," said Frost. "A bloody little frog I see."
"I am not a bloody little frog!" said the diminutive detective, "I'm a bloody little Belgian!", and with that, Poirot attacked Frost and the two fell to the ground and rolled around. Meanwhile, at the mention of blood, Monk had fainted and joined the other two detectives on the floor.
"Oh dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Fletcher. She knelt down on the floor next to Monk and attempted to revive him. She pinched him, slapped his face and shouted into his ear but nothing seemed to get through to him.
"Hang on a sec Mrs. Fletcher," said Sharona. Sharona moved to stand over Monk and said, "Adrian, the floor looks pretty dusty to me." Monk immediately sprang up from the floor, brushing his clothes frantically. Sharona sighed, "It's all right Adrian, just go upstairs and change into one of the other suits you brought." Adrian looked at Sharona in horror. "But, but…those suits are sorted by day of the week. If I go change into tomorrow's suit, I'll have to wear my Tuesday suit on Wednesday." Monk shuddered at the very thought of it.
Meanwhile…Poiroit and Frost had fought and rolled their way into the room where the murder suspects were assembled. Poirot stood up and brushed dust off his jacket. Upon seeing that Frost was not making any attempt to rise from the floor, and in fact that he was not moving at all, nor breathing, Richard tentatively inquired, "Excuse me Mr. Poirot, but your fellow detective appears to be dead." Poirot looked at him, and then cast his gaze out to all those assembled. "There is only one thing you need to know my friends," said Poirot. "I am from Belgium. Anyone wishing to challenge zis statement may join our friend Mr. Frost." "Now," began Poiroit, "you all know why you are here?" "Yeah," responded Onslow, "you want to know which one of us killed our Hyacinth. Well I'll tell you right now, we ALL had a hand in it." Those assembled nodded in agreement. "Yes," said Poiroit, "zis I know. But, we are not here to find out who participated in the murder of Hyacinth Bucket, but rather…who attempted to prevent it."
Those assembled cast wary glances at one another and edged away from each other. "Yes," said Poirot, "One of us here is not zee normal average Briton with murder in his blood and a body in the backyard..no mes amis. One of us here is a person so cold blooded and calm that zey can tolerate and even defend the person most intolerable, Madame Bucket."
Elizabeth couldn't help it, she let out a small shriek and Emmit went over to comfort her.
"Um, Mr.Poirot," ventured Richard, "the name is actually pronounced Bucket, as in the thing you carry water in."
"Yes I know zis," answered Poirot, "But, being from Belgium, zat is a word most difficult for me to pronounce."
"Ah, well alright then Mr. Poirot. It's just that she did used to annoy me so much, insisting that it be pronounced like a bunch of flowers."
Just then Mrs. Fletcher entered the room and the vicar's wife dropped to the floor, dead as a doornail.
Those assembled stared at Mrs. Fletcher with disapproving looks on their faces.
"I am sorry," apologized Mrs. Fletcher, "I just seem to have that effect on people."
The vicar sprang up from his seat and went to Mrs. Fletcher, grabbing her hands in his and shaking them. "My dear woman don't apologize please! Now that my wife is out of the picture I can finally be with the love of my life, Rose! He ran over to where Rose was sitting and grabbed her, pulling her out of her chair and onto the floor in front of everyone and onto a very nice Indian rug where they engaged in passionate lovemaking.
"Uh," ventured Richard, "d'you think we should move to another room?"
Poirot agreed and all those who were still alive and not engaged in passionate lovemaking proceeded into the drawing room across the hall.