All language subtitles for Foyles War - S07E03 - The Hide

(MAN SHOUTS IN GERMAN)

Look at them.

Couldn't march their way
out of a paper bag.

Strange, isn't it?

Hitler said there'd be
1,000 of us one day,

and in the end,
he couldn't even manage 30.

Not the most glorious episode
in military history, I'd say.

Do you think we'll be hanged or shot?

Mind you, in Carrington's case,
it might be neither.

He might get lucky
and die of the clap first.

Are you talking to me today'?
Which would you choose'?

Hanging or shooting?

I'm all for hanging.
It's quieter.

Strange, isn't it, the two of us
ending up here.

We could start a reunion club.
Hang together.

(PEOPLE SING
GERMAN DRINKING SONG)

Hey, what did I tell you?

One of the most beautiful
cities in Europe.

And some of
the most beautiful women.

Life isn't too bad.

(SIREN BLARES)

It's a raid.
Huh'?

No.

They're on their way
somewhere else.

James. Let's eat.

(BOMBS EXPLODE)

(MAN SCREAMS)

(PEOPLE SCREAM IN HORROR)

(SEAGULLS CRY

(BICYCLE BELL RINGS)

MAN: DS McDonald.
MAN 2: Good morning.

DI Jones.
How do you do? Good to see you again.

Sergeant Bower.
How do you do? Good to meet you.

Mr Foyle?
Yes.

I'm DOS Clarkson.
I know exactly who you are.

How do you do?
Pleased to meet you. Do come in.

I'm here to replace you.
Well, so I understand.

What kept you?
(LAUGHS)

You'll be very pleased to hear
everything's in order.

It's all in my report.
Good.

I'll just leave that there for you.

What that doesn't mention
is that anything related

to current investigations,

you'll find in this office here.

All prewar and wartime records
are kept next door.

Just ask the desk sergeant.
He'll be happy to help.

And I think that's about it.

Um, congratulations on the post.

Or commiserations,
whichever you think is appropriate.

And, uh, jolly good luck.
Oh, yeah.

Pleasure to meet you.
Goodbye.

Good luck, sir.

MAN: I've now had the opportunity to
examine your accounts, Mr Wainwright.

Here we have your outgoings,
general expenses, salaries, supplies, etc.

And here we have payments in.

It would seem this is not
a felicitous time

for the catering
and hotel business in Hastings.

Things are bound to pick up
eventually, Mr Harmworth.

That may be the case,

but here you are, asking us
to extend your overdraft limit.

Just for a few months.

But you've already overstepped
that limit on three occasions.

And I see no evidence here
that your situation is going to improve

at any time in the near future.

Well, it can't get any worse.

I wish I shared your confidence,
Miss Stewart.

I'm sorry.

Not only can the bank
not help you,

but I must ask you to take immediate
steps to clear your existing overdraft,

taking whatever actions
are necessary.

Thank you.

Good day.

I'm sorry, Sam.

Don't be.

No, you don't understand.

I won't be able to pay you
this month.

Well, that's OK.

You didn't pay me last month,
so it's not as if I'll notice.

You are a sport.

We'll make a go of it somehow.
I know we will.

(HORNS HONK)

What shall we do now'?
Cup of tea at Lyons?

No, we ought to get back.

Sometimes I wish the whole
bloody guesthouse would just,

I don't know, disappear.

You ought never
to have taken it on.

I had this romantic view
it'd sort of run itself.

Instead, it's been
an absolute nightmare.

The only good thing
to come out of it is, well...

...meeting you.

Oh, sod it.
Let's go to Lyons.

Can we afford it?

Well, we can go halves
on a currant bun.

Here you are,
Christopher.

I had the devil of a job
getting them.

I managed to square the visa
with the Americans,

but as for the 'Queen Mary',

she's been requisitioned
for military and naval use only.

I could have tried
sending you as a GI bride,

but I don't think
that would have worked.

Wonder why.
So, what has happened?

I had a word with the Mol.

You're departing Southampton
on the 17th.

And if anyone asks,

you're on a sponsored
lecture tour, alright?

Right.

Remember,
it's my neck on the line.

I will.

I'm grateful.
Thank you.

You know, there are times
when I really don't understand you.

Why's that'?

The war is finally, completely over.
The Japanese surrender.

This new bomb
they're talking about.

Makes me feel like
we're entering a new world.

I'd agree.
But you refuse to let go of the old one.

Unfinished business?
I thought you'd retired.

Oh, not quite the case. Resigned.
Well, take care.

America may not
take too kindly

to an ex-detective chief superintendent
from Hastings

sniffing around,
asking awkward questions.

I'll take the chance.

Well, then, good luck.
Thank you.

MAN: Late edition!
Read all about it!

Devereaux stands trial for treason.

(PHONES RING)

Mr Foyle, sir.
How do you do?

How do you do?

Please sit down, Mr Foyle.
Thank you.

Have you been offered tea?
I won't, thank you very much.

Let's get straight
to the point, then.

You want to talk to me
about my client James Devereaux.

Well, not so much about him
as the unit he belonged to in Germany.

The British Free Corps?
That's right.

How much do you know
about them?

Well, not as much
as we'd like to,

which is why a meeting with your client
could prove enormously helpful.

How much do you know
about them?

It was just a propaganda
exercise, really, wasn't it?

One of Hitler's crazier ideas.

Get a bunch of misfits and ne'er-do-wells
out of the POW camps,

dress them up in German uniforms
with Union Jacks,

send them off to
fight against the Russians.

My client was picked up in Dresden,
what was left of it.

For a couple of months,
he was missing, believed dead,

and then the Russians
handed him over.

I may as well tell you now,

it's almost certain he'll hang.

We're talking about traitors, Mr Foyle.
William Joyce, Lord Haw-Haw.

John Amery.

Son of the Secretary of State
for India.

The whole lot of them.

Well, they're only getting
what they deserve.

I think you'd agree.

Well, there are those who think
that a series of trials, treason trials,

could be counterproductive
at the moment.

And you've been asked
to look into it?

Well, I suppose I could
try to arrange a meeting,

but I should warn you now,
it may be a complete waste of time.

He refuses to talk to me -
not a word.

Perhaps he feels
you've given up on him.

He's given up on himself.

It's almost as if
he wants to die.

Well, far be it from me
to stand in the way of the police

or the intelligence services.

I'll see what I can do.

Thank you.

He did join the Nazis, Mr Foyle.

He's admitted to it.

And for what it's worth...

...I'd try to defend him
if he'd let me.

But he won't.

There's really
nothing more I can do.

Right.

(PEN SCRATCH ES)

(GAS PS)

She's upstairs, sir.

Sir.

She's been strangled, sir,
with a nylon stocking.

I bet you she'd been saving it up
for after the war.

MILNER:
Does she have a name?

PERKINS: Agnes Lyttleton.

She rents the room from a Mrs Ramsay.
She's downstairs.

Who found her?

She did, Mrs Ramsay.

So, what do you think, sir?

Boyfriend comes home,

finds her canoodling
with some Yank?

Wouldn't be the first time.

I can't believe such a thing
could happen in my home.

I just can't believe it.

When did you know
something was wrong'?

This morning.

She didn't come down for breakfast,
and... Well, I thought she'd overslept.

Were you here last night?

No, I was playing bridge
with some friends.

I didn't arrive home
until about 10 o'clock.

MRS RAMSAY: I was here,
in the house, last night,

and all the time, she was...

PERKINS:
You want some more tea?

No.

No, thank you.

MRS RAMSAY: Thank you.

Um, did she have a job?

Did she work here in Brighton?

Just outside.

White Friars.

Well, I'm sure you know it.
It's the family estate of the Devereauxs.

And did she have any friends?

Um, or any visitors?

She did have a friend. Um...

Sylvie, I think her name was.
A stablegirl.

And there was a young man,

but he was a prisoner of war
in Germany.

He wrote to her
regularly, though.

Oh.

Most of the prisoners of the German
camps have returned home now.

He hasn't been here?

No. Miss Lyttleton would have
asked me first.

She was that sort of girl,
very considerate.

Mrs Ramsay...

...what can you tell me
about this?

Isn't that the frame from her...
her bedroom?

It is, yes.

But the photograph is missing.

Do you know who the photograph
was of? Did you ever see it?

It wasn't my habit to enter her room,
but I did glimpse it.

A young man in uniform.
I can't tell you very much more than that.

Where do you think it's gone?

(HORSE SNORTS)

(HANDBRAKE CLICKS)

Cor. Quite a place, sir.

It certainly is.

To live somewhere like this, you
wouldn't even know there's been a war.

It's a dreadful thing to have happened,
and I'm very sorry to hear it.

Agnes was a very pleasant girl. I can't
imagine anyone would want to hurt her.

But I'm afraid I can't help you,
Detective Inspector.

I engaged Miss Lyttleton
nine months ago

to help me with a project
I'm working on.

And what is that, sir?
A history of the Devereaux family.

It required
a considerable amount of research.

Been here long,
have you, sir?

We were given this land
by William the Conqueror.

Miss Lyttleton worked here
for six hours a day.

She had excellent shorthand
and she was very diligent.

Apart from that,
I know nothing about her at all.

What about
her family or friends?

Mr Milner, she was my secretary,
not my confidante.

And apart from that, I have
absolutely nothing more to say. Jane?

Please excuse me, gentlemen.

(DOOR CLOSES)

Detective Inspector?

I'm very sorry, the way my husband
spoke to you just now.

He didn't mean to be rude,
but you've come at a very difficult time.

He has a son who's in
a great deal of trouble.

Please don't ask me to explain,

but you have no idea
how ill it's made him.

And if he spoke off-handedly,
then I can only apologise on his behalf.

He has a son?

I take it that he's not your son,
Mrs Devereaux?

No, I'm Charles's second wife.

He lost his first wife, Caroline,
almost 20 years ago.

And Agnes Lyttleton?

I'm afraid I can't tell you
very much about her.

We hardly spoke.

She was living with
our housekeeper, Mrs Ramsay.

Mrs Ramsay works here?

She used to. She's retired.

Miss Lyttleton had always lived in
Brighton, at least for the last few years.

But her house was bombed.

She needed somewhere to live, so
we recommended her to Mrs Ramsay.

Thank you.

Gentleman to see
prisoner 484.

(KEYS JANGLE)

(DOOR CLOSES)

Hello.

The name's Foyle.
They tell you who I am?

I understand you were
reluctant to see me.

Thank you for agreeing anyway.

Anything to get out of my cell.

FOYLE: Ah, I see.

They tell you why I'm here?

They said
you were a policeman

and you want to know about
the British Free Corps.

That's about the strength of it, yes.

Do you mind if I sit down'?

What can you tell me?

I understand why you
wouldn't want to talk about it.

It's not a very pleasant subject.

But you have agreed to see me.

I have nothing to read.
The people in here aren't exactly chatty.

I don't get many visitors.

Right.

No family?

I don't want to see my family.

Why would that be'?

Listen.

There's an understanding
that there are various reasons

why people are, or have become,
Nazi sympathisers.

And in the case of the members
of the British Free Corps,

it seems important to establish
to what extent that sympathy is genuine

or to what extent
coercion has been involved.

Why did you join'?

Are you sorry the Germans lost,
that Hitler's dead?

Did you want them to win'?

I don't care who won.

Is that really the case?

Thousands of people dead,
everywhere burnt out.

Theatres, museums - all rubble.

What difference does it make?

Is this Dresden you're talking about?
I understand you were there.

I was in a lot of places.

Dunkirk as well, I gather,

and served with distinction,
according to your men.

So it's very difficult
for someone like me to understand

why you'd find yourself
in this position

and why you'd choose to die
in such a useless way.

What makes you think
it's useless?

I was told you wanted to ask me
about the British Free Corps.

All you've done
is ask questions about me.

I don't know you.
I don't need to talk to you.

Please just go away.

(KEYS JANGLE)

(BIRDS CHIRP)

I see you! I see you!

I see you!

OK, you got me,
you got me, you got me!

(CLOSING DOOR ECHOES)

(DOOR LOCKS

(BOMBS EXPLODE)

(PEOPLE SCREAM)

So...

...did you get
the information you wanted?

Any idea what happened to him
in Dresden?

No.

Did you ask?

I shouldn't have thought
that was any of my business.

Or yours.

Wait here.

Mr Deakin.
Forgive me for asking.

Are these war injuries?
Uh, yes, they are.

Then I'd understand your difficulty

representing somebody
on these sort of charges.

He did speak to me -
not a great deal, but enough -

and I can tell you
that whatever else he might be,

he's not a Nazi sympathiser,
nor is he guilty of treason,

and I'd hope to persuade you
not to assume his guilt

or, indeed,
to abandon him to hang.

There are a couple of things
I could do to help.

If you'd accept the offer,
I'd be pleased to...

MAN: Right, you're
gonna have to raise it.

MAN 2: Alright. How's that'?

MAN 1: Yeah, keep coming.
Bit more.

Good'?

Hello. What's going on here?

And who are you, darling?

I'm Sam Stewart.

I don't suppose you live in
one of these big houses, do you?

I do, as a matter of fact.
That one over there.

Then this is your lucky day.

We want to knock it down.

(LAUGHS)

Good evening, Miss Stewart.

(WATER FALLS)

Adam?

ADAM: I'm up here!

What do you mean,
knock us down'?

Yes.
Why'?

For the access road.
Access to what?

All the shops and houses
they're going to be building on the green.

Well, Hastings may need shops
and houses, but why build on the green?

I thought you'd be pleased.

I am, I think.

I should be delighted,
I suppose.

It's exactly what you wanted.

And, of course,
they'll pay you compensation.

There's a meeting at the Town Hall
tomorrow evening.

That's not much notice.

Well, provided they give you a good
offer, how much notice do you need?

Oh, dear. More problems?
I'm afraid so.

(SIGHS)

In answer to your question,
I was with Monty in the Eighth Army.

Tunisia, May 1943.
Place called Medjerda.

I'm sorry to hear it.
I'm not asking for sympathy.

A lot of my friends were killed.

I was invalided home and went back to
the bar. Wasn't much else I could do.

(BIRD CAWS)

(HANDBRAKE CLICKS)

(DOOR CLOSES)

James won't speak to me.
He won't speak to any of us.

But you've seen him?
FOYLE: I have.

And?

Is there anything
that can give us any hope?

DEVEREAUX: Deakin says
you believe he may be innocent.

That's right.

Well, do you really think
you can find a way through this?

I'm not at all sure.
I've just seen him the once.

But it's certainly
worth the attempt.

DEVEREAUX:
What did he tell you?

Very little, but it does seem to me
that there's more to the situation

than he's allowing
anyone to know.

Jane, I'll talk to Mr Foyle alone,
if you don't mind.

Why don't you show Deakin
round the garden?

Yes, of course, dear.
Whatever you say.

Shall we'?

James was never the same
after his mother died.

He was only eight.

Maybe that's what
this is all about.

She was the only one
he confided in.

I loved Caroline more than
anyone in the world.

She was everything to me.

But James was
more her son than mine,

and after she died,
he drifted away.

Ever any mention of or sympathy with
right-wing causes...

No.

He was a model student
at Eton and at Sandhurst.

A credit to his regiment.

When he was taken prisoner
at Dunkirk, I thought I'd lost him.

Now I almost wish I had.

We're one of
the oldest families in England,

and we have a long history
of service to our country.

My father was at
the Colonial Office.

My grandfather served
in Salisbury's administration.

I, myself, was an MP
for 30 years.

This unit, the British Free Corps...
They're disgusting.

Nothing.

What do you think
drove James to join it?

He was a prisoner of war.
He had been for three years.

He was starving, and they offered him an
alternative to a life behind barbed wire.

He didn't know
what he was doing.

Well, I'd have thought
that would have been his defence.

Of course it's his defence.
But he's not using it.

He's ashamed of himself.

Doesn't appear
to be the case.

He's destroying me.

This...

...house, this land.

My name.

All that I've ever stood for.
He's going to bring it all crashing down.

Mr Foyle, you told Deakin
you could help us,

but all you've done so far
is ask a lot of questions.

Why exactly are you here?

Caroline Devereaux.

Sometimes I think
she never left this house.

It's as if she never died.

So, uh...

...how did it happen exactly?

Oh, it was
a horrible accident.

She was walking over there.

It was late summer.

Deer can be very dangerous
at that time of year.

Nobody knows why
she got so close to them,

but they gored her
with their antlers.

Hello. Alright?

I think so.

Do come with us.

I was going to show Mr Deakin the hide.
I'd love to.

Come on!
I'm coming.

Slowcoach.

It's got a black beak and...

...white patches on its wings.

And what do you think it is?

A nightingale?

Hm. Let me see.

CAROLINE:
No, it's a pied flycatcher.

It's come all the way from Africa
to be here.

She had it built
specially for James.

Does anyone
use it anymore'?

Well, he wouldn't go near it
after she died.

Hope you don't
mind me asking. Um...

How well do you
get on with him?

Well, he was 14
when I married Charles.

He was already at Eton.

But I did what I could,
tried to be close.

And any sign of any interest in politics,
that sort of thing, at that time?

Not that I know of.

I think he did want
to become a policeman.

Really?

He was very young.
I don't think he was serious.

So, what other interests
might he have had?

He used to play the piano.
Ah.

He was actually
very good.

But there was this business
with his piano teacher -

man called Rothman
or Rothstein or something.

Anyway, um...

...he left
under a bit of a cloud.

Mm-hm.
And, uh...

James lost interest after that
and stopped.

Who else might I talk to
who, um, knew him as a boy?

There was our old housekeeper,
Mrs Ramsay.

Mm-hm.

But there's been
this terrible business.

What's that'?

A young woman was found
murdered in her house.

Murdered?

Oh, I'm sorry.

I thought you'd know
all about it.

The police
were only here yesterday.

My husband's secretary.

She was found
strangled.

(DOOR OPENS)

Dinner, Mr Devereaux.

You still not talkative?

Well, let's see
what we've got for you.

Corned beef hash, beans...

...and mashed potato.

I am sorry.

That was very clumsy of me.

(MAN LAUGHS)

Nazi scum.

Eat it off the floor.

And you'd better get this cell cleaned up
or I'll have you up before the governor.

(SEAGULLS CRY

(PEOPLE CHATTER)

Not many people here.

Well, they only
called the meeting yesterday.

Don't you think that's a bit strange?
No. Why?

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.
Please, take your seats.

Let me introduce myself.

I'm Michael Harrison,

working with Harry Clifton here
for the Hastings Planning Committee.

MAN: Never heard of it.
What good's it ever done?

Ladies and gentlemen,
these are the facts.

In the last five years,
more than 3 million houses

have been damaged or destroyed.

As a country, we now need
to build 750,000 new homes,

7,000 of them here in Hastings.

But it may well be that the Luftwaffe
has done us a favour.

(COMMOTION)

HARRISON:
We can look on this

not as a challenge
but as an opportunity.

Highcliffe Green.

It's an empty space.

Even though it's only minutes away
from the centre of Hastings.

And here it is again...

...the hub of a new development zone,
with purpose-built housing,

improved traffic flow,

the sense and simplicity
of concentric rings.

What's he talking about?
HARRISON: A new, modern Hastings...

...with a bustling new heart.

MAN: But what happens to us'?

MAN 2: And what about
the existing bomb damage?

One at a time, please.
May I ask where you live, sir?

Gladwell Avenue.

Well, then, I congratulate you
on your good fortune.

Every resident of Highcliffe Street,
Quay Street and Gladwell Avenue

is going to be required to move...

(COMMOTION)

...but...but...

...will be generously compensated.

MAN: I like the sound of that.

What I'm here to talk to you about,
ladies and gentlemen, is a new start.

I've looked at these old houses.

Many of them are in a state of disrepair,
with outmoded plumbing and electrics.

They're too big
and they're expensive to run.

What I want to say to you is...

...welcome to the future.

(APPLAUSE)

Adam Wainwright.

I own the guesthouse, Hill House,
on Highcliffe Street.

So you're proposing to buy it,
knock it down and do what exactly?

Yeah, well, Hill House stands on
what will be the main thoroughfare

to the new shopping centre,
Mr Wainwright.

And this shopping centre,
you're gonna build that on the green?

HARRISON:
That's right.

The green's always been there.

There is no historical significance
to the green. It's just an empty space.

But it's...it's...it's common land.
Exactly. Isn't it common land?

Well, yes, it is,

but I don't think there'd be
any great objections to a brilliant plan...

ADAM: Isn't it protected, though?

I think you're rather
overstating its importance.

People have been grazing their animals
there for centuries.

MAN: Sit down!
Let him speak.

He's got a point.

MAN: How much you gonna pay us'?
(LAUGHTER)

Now, that's the question
I'd have asked.

We'll be making valuations
in the weeks to come.

Hang on!

Are we sure about this?

Why do we need
a new development?

Why can't we just improve
the Hastings we've already got?

MAN: Sit down!

You've had your turn.

There will, of course, be a full and proper
consultation before any works begin.

(COMMOTION)

Adam, are you alright?

You haven't said anything
this past half-hour.

I'm sorry, Sam.
I'm miles away.

We should be celebrating,
shouldn't we'?

You get the money.

You get shot of Hill House.
You can start again.

I wasn't thinking
about Hill House.

I really like Hastings.

I know I haven't
been here long, but...

It's just... (swans)

It's the arrogance of it all
that gets me, Sam.

I mean, look at this green.

It's been here forever.

When William the Conqueror landed...

...he probably stood
right here.

Isn't this what we've been fighting for
for the past six years?

England's
green and pleasant land.

Exactly.

I think we've earned the right
to run our own lives,

not be pushed around
by some Nazi in a pinstriped suit.

I mean, this is part of the England
we've been defending.

Jerry couldn't invade us.
They couldn't destroy us.

So why should we let someone
like Harrison achieve what they didn't'?

Are you going to start
a resistance movement?

Yes.

That's exactly
what I'm gonna do.

Well, then, count me in.

I'll wave the flag
or the machine gun or whatever.

Perfect.

Oh.

(KEYS JANGLE)

Back again?

With some books.

JAMES: 'Decline and Fall'.

Seems appropriate.
FOYLE: Mmm.

I like Evelyn Waugh.

So do I.

And it's not too long.

I don't think I should be
starting long books.

Thank you.
It's very kind of you.

Not at all.

A couple of things have happened
since we last met

which may be of interest to you.

I went to White Friars.

I met your father.

Why did you do that'?

What's White Friars got to do
with the British Free Corps?

Oh, it'd help to know
why you joined.

And do you think
my father can tell you?

He had an opinion.
I bet he did.

Mmm.

I also learned that you were
very close to your mother.

I wondered what she'd
have made of all this.

I mean, correct me if I'm wrong,
but, um,

goosestepping your way around Dresden
in an SS uniform

isn't something that I'd imagine
would have endeared you to her.

I've had enough of this.

I'd like to go back
to my cell, please!

Sylvie Johnstone?

Yeah, that's me.

I'm Detective Inspector Milner,
and this is Detective Constable...Perkins.

I believe you know
Agnes Lyttleton.

SYLVIE:
Yes, I know Agnes.

Why are you asking?

I'm afraid you're gonna have to
prepare yourself for some bad news.

Agnes is dead.

No.

Perkins. Would you...

Dead?

I'm sorry.

What happened?

She was found at home.
She was living with a Mrs Ramsay.

I know. I went there once.

Agnes was very happy there.

It seems that someone came to
the house when she was on her own

and attacked her.

She was killed
in the bedroom.

Oh, Lord.

We have to ask you some questions,
but we can come back, if you prefer.

I hadn't known her that long.

We met in a pub,
got chatting about horses.

She liked 'em too.

I'd moved down from London.

I didn't know anyone,
and the two of us became friends.

Is she really dead?

I'm afraid so.

I wonder if Jack knows.

Jack?

Who's Jack?

Her young man.
She never told me his surname.

Jack.

She was crazy about him.

Photo by the bed,
all that sort of thing.

Did you ever see
the photograph?

No.

Look, uh, shall I go
and tie this up?

(HORSE SNORTS)

Um...

What else can you tell me
about Jack?

Not very much.

She was very secretive about him
'cause he was...

You know, he was doing
something hush-hush overseas.

Do you know where? Was it France?
No, in Germany.

She shouldn't even have told me that,
but she mentioned it once.

I couldn't believe it.

Jack had a friend.
He was coming to see her.

What friend?
She didn't say.

She just said she'd heard from someone
who had news about Jack.

Of course, she was sick with worry
about him, but he had news for her,

and he was coming down to Brighton
and he'd see her.

Well, that was
about a week ago.

And she didn't give you
the name of this friend?

She never said, no.

PERKINS:
So, what's she called, then?

SYLVIE: Who'?
The horse.

It's not a mare.

It's a stallion.

SYLVIE: Can't you tell'?

(HORSE NEIGHS)

ADAM: We fought them
on the beaches.

We fought them on the fields
and on the hills.

We fought them
on the streets.

But what was the point if we were
gonna sell those beaches,

those hills and those fields,
and those streets?

WOMAN: Yes.

For human interest,
give a sense of perspective.

ADAM: We fought them
on the streets.

But what was the point if we were
gonna sell those beaches, those hills

and those fields and those streets

for the sake of flats and shops
we don't even need?

I can't talk about the family,
Mr Foyle.

I was with them
for many years,

and anything
I might have seen, well...

...you know, it wasn't my place
to see anything.

I do understand your discretion,
of course.

But we must remember that tomorrow
this boy could be sentenced to hang.

It's a terrible thing, him going over
to the Germans like that.

Was it a surprise?

Of course it was.

He was never like that.

Well, obviously, he was never the same
after the death of his mother.

He adored her.
We all did.

A happy family,
would you say'?

They were a family
like any other, Mr Foyle.

They had
their ups and downs.

What could you tell me
about the piano teacher?

Oh, yes, that was
a bad business too.

His name was Rothstein,
Simon Rothstein.

He was a Hebrew.

He was a good man,
that's what I thought.

He stole some of
Lady Devereaux's jewellery

and went to prison.

That was just a few weeks
before her own accident.

You see what I'm saying?

James lost the two people
who were closest to him, and...

Well, maybe that was
what turned his head.

Thank you.

Sir Charles's secretary
was staying here. Isn't that right?

Agnes Lyttleton. You heard about that.
Mm-hm.

I'm not sure I can live here now.
The house isn't the same anymore.

I'd understand that.

You don't...suppose...

It couldn't have had anything to do
with Master James, could it?

Well, of course, it's possible.

Because I have something
that might help you.

I, uh...l found it when I was
going through her laundry

and it fell out of her pocket.

Now, that is from
her young man.

He was a prisoner of war, in Germany,
and he wrote regularly.

And this is addressed
to a hotel in London.

And that's her handwriting
on the envelope.

So she might have been
forwarding it, perhaps?

So it would seem.

She ever mention
this Mr Armstrong'?

No.

And as far as I know, she never visited
London, not while she was with me.

I was going to pass it on
to the detective who was here.

Well, I could do that for you.
What's his name?

My name's Jack Stanford.

Thank you for
agreeing to see me.

You're a friend of James Devereaux?
Yes.

Yes. You're representing him.
ls that right?

I would do if he'd let me.

Thank you.

Um... James and I
were POWs together.

Where?

Oflag 79. In Brunswick.

That would have been
before '43.

I knew him later as well.

The British Free Corps?

I'm afraid you're going
to have to forgive me.

I can't fully explain myself.

Indeed, I must ask you not to mention
to anyone that you've met me.

It's a matter of national security.

How can I help you?
Has he said anything?

I mean, he's on trial for his life.
Has he...put forward any defence?

Not at all.
He refuses to speak.

Why?

Well, maybe you could tell me.

I knew James very well for a time.

But I never completely
understood him.

Actually,
I thought he was dead.

I couldn't believe it
when he turned up after Dresden.

Maybe in a way it would have
been better if he had died.

Maybe it would.

Um, when does the trial begin?

Tomorrow.

The trial's a formality.
He's pleading guilty.

Oh, well, then,
there's nothing I can do.

This is from Jack.

Do you know who that is?

Jack was Agnes Lyttleton's
young man,

and I presume the man
in the photograph

that had been taken
from her room.

He was a prisoner of war.

It was written in February.

It took almost six months
to arrive.

Well, not surprising,
given the state of things in Europe.

Doesn't give much away,

which, I suppose, is what you'd expect
with German censorship.

He wonders
when the war will end.

I imagine there were thousands of letters
like this written every day.

FOYLE: This thing about the weather -
“It's raining dogs and cats."

Do we normally say it like that'?

No, it should be cats and dogs.
He's got it the wrong way round.

Unless he's trying
to tell her something.

And the date.
ls that unusual?

FOYLE: Or am I imagining it?
We'd normally write it...

MILNER: The other way around.

10 February 1945.

Sir, I appreciate you
bringing this to my attention.

I thought I'd take a look
at the hotel this is addressed to.

Mind if I hang onto this a little longer?
Course not.

Thank you.

And if there's anything else
I can do to help...

There is.

Simon Rothstein,
piano teacher to the Devereauxs.

Arrested for theft long, long ago,
but anything you can turn up would help.

I'll check the files.

So, what did he want?
You searched the house, and the room.

Agnes's room.
Yes.

So why didn't you find the letter?
Which letter?

The letter from Jack,
Agnes's young man.

I never saw any letter.

Exactly, Constable.

But if you'd been doing your job properly,
you would have found it.

So, has he got it?

If you're referring to DOS Foyle,
yes, he's got it.

And he's going to keep it
a while longer.

Mr Foyle is helping us
with our inquiries.

I thought he'd left the police.

Constable.

If you and I are
going to work together,

do you think you could try showing
just a modicum of respect?

Of course, sir.

For you or for him?

(STARTS ENGINE E)

We got the mains drainage coming down
this right flank to about that point

and then cutting it
where it would be terraced, right?

HARRISON: And that will service all...
You're a bit premature, aren't you?

I'm sorry?
Do you remember me?

No. Have we met?
I was at the Town Hall the other evening.

But because I opposed
your sordid little scheme,

I don't suppose you took
a blind bit of notice.

Alright, keep your hair on.
Yeah, I remember you. You're, um...

Adam Wainwright.
Gladwell Avenue.

Hill House. Highcliffe Street.

Well, I'm sorry, Mr Wainwright,
but the meeting's over, and I'm busy.

Do you know what I despise
about you, Mr Harrison?

It's not that you're changing Hastings.

It's not that you have
a vision for the future.

No, what I detest about you
is your high-handed attitude,

this unshakable belief
that you really know what's best.

We are consulting with...

You don't care about
this area, do you?

If this piece of land has history or what
it means to the people who live here.

It's all just money to you.

Eric, will you ask this gentleman
to move on?

No, I will not move on.
I live here.

Why don't you move on, hm?
Take your equipment with you.

I'll have the law onto you!
That's council property!

Is this council property?

Get off!
Someone call a policeman!

Get off!
That's enough! Stop that!

Get off!

Just get off me!

What have you done?

(KEYS JANGLE)

Mr Foyle!
What are you doing here?

Sam told me what happened.

Am I in a lot of trouble?

The man, is he...

Oh, he's alright, as it turns out,

but assaulting
Planning Committee members,

perhaps not the wisest thing
to be doing.

Are they gonna press charges?
No.

I've persuaded Mr Harrison that a court
case might not be in his best interest.

So I can go?
You can.

Thank you.

How am I gonna face Sam?
Good question.

Do you think
she'll forgive me?

I don't think you've got
too much to worry about.

(HORN HONKS)

Mr Devereaux.

You remember your KC,
Mr Carstairs.

Yes, of course.

Mr Devereaux.

Let me implore you
for one last time.

When we go upstairs,
you will be tried for high treason

under the Treachery Act
of 1940,

as opposed to offences against the
Defence Regulations of the year before.

There is one critical difference
between them.

If you are found guilty,
there can be no leeway.

The judge can show you no clemency.
Do you understand that'?

How long will it take?

If you insist on offering no defence,
if you intend to plead guilty,

then the whole thing
may be over very quickly.

The judge will sentence you
and that will be that.

No witnesses?

Not unless
you enter a defence.

Is my father there?

I believe he's in the public gallery.

Well, thanks for your time,
Mr Deakin, Mr Carstairs.

I just want it to be over with.

I think it's absolutely splendid.
I didn't know you had it in you.

Didn't you?

You're quite right to show them we're
not gonna let them get away with it.

Don't you agree, sir?

Oh, there might be
more productive routes. I must go.

The trouble is,
everybody's taking the money.

That's because
they don't care about the green.

To them, it's just a patch of grass.
Thank you, Mr West!

Which green are you talking about?
Our green.

This one?
Yes, the very same.

Well, that's not just
any old green.

ADAM: Isn't it'?
FOYLE: Well, no, it's not.

They were going to excavate that
not so very many years ago.

Some settlement site
or another.

Settlement?
How do you know about that?

School used to dig up all sorts of stuff
there - pottery, that sort of thing.

And where is it now'?
No idea. Could very well still be there.

Where?
The school, St Saviour's.

Thank you.
Not at all. 'Bye.

St Saviour's.

How appropriate.

MAN: All rise.

MAN: Detective Chief
Superintendent Foyle.

We've met in court
rather more times

than either of us
might care to remember.

Now, what is it
that brings you here today'?

Well, I'm hoping you can tell me
what you remember

about an old case
that needs a bit of clearing up.

A man called Rothstein,
piano teacher.

Piano teacher?
Simon Rothstein.

Piano teacher
to the Devereauxs.

Oh, yes. Rothstein.

I remember now.

Petty theft.

What exactly is your interest
in the case?

Well, not so much in the case
as the sentence you handed down.

Five years.
With hard labour.

Which led to his death in prison.

Yes, well, I can't comment
on past cases.

It seems the jewellery
he's supposed to have stolen

was worth
only about £50 or so.

Theft is still theft, Foyle.

I'd have thought you, of all people,
would appreciate that.

Well, of course, but even so,
five years hard labour for a first offence

seems unnecessarily harsh.

It was a grave breach of trust.

Here you have a man, a refugee,
welcomed into this country

and into the home of one of our
most ancient and distinguished families.

How many cases would you say
you'd tried over the years?

Must be thousands.

You remember them all in such detail,
or is it just this one?

I'm not quite sure
I like your tone.

No, no, simply wondering what
makes this one so memorable for you.

I've already told you.

I greatly admired Sir Charles Devereaux.
He was an outstanding MP.

Do you know him?

We may have met.

But I had absolutely no reason
not to try that case.

The evidence was indisputable.

Charles didn't even appear
as a witness.

Charles?

That would be Sir Charles?

And it would help, don't you think,
to discount the possibility

that Charles in any way influenced
this hugely disproportionate sentence.

I think you should leave now.

I'll see myself out.

JUDGE: James Devereaux.

I have read the depositions
and the exhibits in this case,

and I am satisfied
you knew what you did

and you did it
intentionally and deliberately,

in the knowledge
that by becoming a member

of the so-called British Free Corps

amounted to high treason.

MAN: But it was a lie.

It was all lies.

He stole nothing.

Wasn't there something
about a necklace'?

You think he would steal
from Lady Devereaux?

He respected her.

He would do anything for her.

And for her son also.

(PIANO PLAYS)

Rothstein, you must help me.
Run, Lady Devereaux, run.

This warrior from England shall...

Die!
(SCREAMS)

What's going on here?

JUDGE:
James Devereaux.

You come from a noble family,

one that has long given service
to the nation.

But that only casts your transgressions
in a harsher light.

You now stand a self-confessed traitor
to your king and country,

and you have forfeited
your right to live.

MAN: But that was the mistake
he made, you see.

He got too close to her.

MAN: My son knew
too many secrets, Mr Foyle.

That is why he had to be
got out of there.

That is why
he had to be locked away.

The sentence of this court
is that you be taken from here

to a place of lawful execution

and hanged from the neck
until you are dead.

The Lord have mercy
on your soul.

Amen.

MAN: Take him down.

(REPORTERS
SHOUT QUESTIONS)

REPORTER: Sir Charles, do you have
anything to say to the press?

Thank you, Mr Carstairs.

I wish I could have done
something more to help.

You know, I can't help feeling
there's something more to this case.

I wonder...
I'm so sorry.

MAN ON RADIO: In his summing up,
the judge said that he had no alternative

but to pass
the gravest sentence of all.

James Devereaux had been able
to offer no defence

and will now be returned to his cell
to await the hangman.

(TURNS RADIO OFF)
Afternoon.

Can I help you?

I hope so.

I wonder, do you have a George
Armstrong staying or working here?

Never heard of him.

Got a letter for him.

No, there's no
George Armstrong here.

Who are you?

The name's Foyle.

I can't help you, I'm afraid.

Right. You've never received
anything like this before'?

No.

No, and you're not used as a mailbox
or a forwarding address?

We're a hotel, Mr Foyle, that's all.
You can see for yourself.

Thank you very much.

I can take that for you,
if you like.

Why would you want
to do that, Mr, um...

Dillon.

It's got our address on it.
If someone comes in, I can hand it over.

Better still, if anybody comes in,
send them to me. I'll hand it over.

(PHONE DINGS)

(OTHER PHONE RINGS)

This is Dillon.

There's something
you need to know.

SAM: What's this'?

It's a radius.

A radius of what?

A radius is a bone
in the forearm, my dear.

What else did you find,
Miss Longbridge?

Oh. Coins.

And pottery.

And we found some lanterns.
Some of them are in very good condition.

And this.

It's very old.

But I've never been able to discover
what it's for.

ADAM: I don't suppose
we can borrow this?

I don't think so.
We'll take very great care of it.

I suppose so.

Thank you.
Thank you very much.

I don't suppose you remember
a pupil called Christopher Foyle?

Christopher Foyle?

Yes!

Christopher Foyle.

I remember him.

MISS LONGBRIDGE:
Always asking questions.

I often wonder
what happened to him.

Oh!
Sorry

If there were Romans in Hastings,
somebody must have written about it.

WOMAN: Goodbye.

So, where do we start?

Well, there's a museum,
or back to the library.

There's a college
in Brighton.

(SAM LAUGHS)

Well, I know where I'm gonna start.
The kitchen.

Tea.

Well, it went exactly as I said.

Sentenced to hang.

And when is that likely to happen?
17th.

Devilish quick. I suppose
they want to get it over with.

So, when are you
leaving for America?

Same day.

Well...

You did everything you could.

I wonder.

Look here, Mr Foyle.

Why don't you
come clean with me?

I've made some inquiries about you,
and, frankly, you've misled me.

You're not even a policeman,
not anymore.

What is your interest
in James Devereaux?

Well, in the circumstances,

whatever interest I may
or may not have in him is irrelevant.

In the interest of justice,

my concern is as great
as I'd expect yours to be.

The sentence has been passed
in a court of law.

It's over.

There's nothing you can do, Mr Foyle.
I disagree.

I mean, it's obviously of no interest
to you - it certainly is to me -

why Sir Charles's secretary
was murdered

at the same time
as all this was happening.

I'd certainly like to know
where Jack is -

the prisoner of war
who was writing to her -

and why the Devereauxs'
piano teacher

was the victim of an obvious
miscarriage of justice and died in prison.

So it seems to me
there's quite a lot to be done.

And since, clearly, no-one else
is gonna do it, I will. Excuse me.

Jack?

Uh...

I had a young man in the office
named Jack a couple of days ago.

Introduced himself
as a friend of James Devereaux.

They were POWs together,
in Germany.

And?

He was very mysterious.

Perhaps I shouldn't be
telling you this.

He wanted to help James,

but at the same time,
he wasn't giving anything away.

I also saw him in court.

Surname?

Stanford.

Thank you.

Mr Foyle?

Yeah.

I wonder if you could
come with me, sir.

Yes, alright.

Mr Foyle for you, sir.
Ah!

Mr Foyle.

I suppose we ought to apologise to you
for bringing you here in this way.

FOYLE: No, not at all.
Always a pleasure.

Thank you, Walcott.

I expect you're wondering
what this is all about.

Well, intelligence services

communicating with
prisoners overseas, perhaps?

You have a letter of ours.
I wonder if I could have it.

FOYLE: Ah.

Forgive me, you are?

My name is Brenner,
and this is Jack Stanford.

He was with James Devereaux
in Oflag 79 and then in Dresden.

JACK: How do you do?

How do you do?

This is not actually
addressed to you.

Even so, it was intended
for my office, Mr Foyle,

and it is quite important.

Well, it's also
quite important to the police,

since it's turned up as part
of a murder investigation.

So any light you could shed on that
would be appreciated.

I know you've had dealings with us
before, Mr Foyle,

so I'm sure I can rely
on your discretion.

I head up a section here within MI9.

We were established
in December '41

to teach evasion
and escape techniques to personnel.

That's ordinary officers and servicemen
heading into action.

There were a series of seminars.
Exactly.

BRENNER:
We basically taught them

how to make a nuisance of themselves
if they got caught by the enemy.

And one vital part of the work

was getting information to us
behind Jerry's back.

Via coded letters.

POWs would send letters
to family and friends,

and they then
forwarded them on to us.

How many agents were there?

Hundreds of them,
all over Europe.

And how did you
communicate with them?

BRENNER:
We couldn't.

By the end of the war,

we weren't sure how many of them
we had or who they were.

Our office in Southgate
took a direct hit,

and many of the records
were destroyed.

So we've had to rely on agents
like Stanford here to get in touch with us.

Mmm.

And you were a member
of the British Free Corps?

Yes. Yes.
It seemed like a good idea.

At first, I thought they might
amount to something.

My aim was to spread discord,
undermine morale

and at the same time keep MI9
aware of their movements.

BRENNER: Stanford was afforded
a remarkable degree of freedom.

And thanks to him, we received
a great deal of information

about troop movements,
bomb damage, much, much more.

Mm-hm.

What about James Devereaux?

Oh, he...he wasn't like
the others, Mr Foyle.

I knew him before the war.
We were at Eton together.

I don't know what he was doing
in the Free Corps,

and I'm being completely honest
when I say l...feel sorry for him.

Hmm.

Is he a traitor?

They all are,
but for different reasons.

My feeling about Devereaux
is that he was out of his depth.

Went missing for a very long time
after Dresden.

What do you think
happened to him?

The bombing of Dresden...
It's a dreadful business.

We were in a cafe together
when it started.

We got separated in the street.
It was dark. There was a lot of panic.

I thought
he must have been killed.

Mm-hm.

The city, the next morning,
you've no idea.

So many bodies.

Yeah, so you knew
Agnes Lyttleton?

Yes. Yes, she was a friend of mine.
James introduced us.

As you know, I used her
to drop off my letters.

You know she was dead?

Yes, yes. I read about it
in the papers. Shocking.

And were you able to see her
after you got back?

No.

The letter, Mr Foyle.

Oh, yeah.

No need to remind you
that it's police evidence.

BRENNER: Of course.

We have absolutely no intention of
interfering with any police investigation.

Well, clearly no intention
of helping it either.

I don't see it makes much difference.
You're no longer a police officer.

Absolutely right.

Doesn't stop the rest of them
investigating.

Then I suggest you leave it
to them, Mr Foyle.

This really isn't your affair.

Point taken.

Mr West.

Perhaps Mr Foyle was wrong
about the settlement.

Mr Foyle is never wrong.

MRS RAMSAY:
So there are three of you now'?

Well, Mr Foyle has kindly agreed
to help us with our investigation.

I'd have thought you'd have
caught him by this time.

Um, so, why are you here?
I told you everything I know the last time.

We wondered what
the name Jack might mean to you.

Jack?

MILNER: Jack Stanford.

She never mentioned him?

No.

But the name did seem to mean
something to you just now.

Well, I did know a Jack,
but that was a long time ago.

Go on.

(FOOTSTEPS
RUN DOWN STAIRS)

Shh!

CAROLINE: Mrs Ramsay.

I don't suppose you've seen
a dark, dangerous-looking adventurer

by the name of Jack Harkaway,
have you?

No, Lady Devereaux.
I’ve just been cleaning in here.

Ah!

Now, I wonder where
he could be hiding.

Wait a minute.

CAROLINE:
I saw that curtain move.

(GAS PS)
Have at you!

I have you, Jack Harkaway.

My boy Jack!

CAROLINE: Come on, it's lunchtime.
Adventurers must eat.

Jack.

That was her name for him.

MRS RAMSAY: That's what
she always used to call him.

After the hero
in the comic books.

(SPEAKS INAUDIBLY)

(DOOR OPENS)

(KEYS JANGLE)

(DOOR CLOSES AND LOCKS)

Why do you keep agreeing
to see me?

To find out
why you keep coming back.

Presumably this time,
it's to say goodbye.

Far from it.

But I do think it's time
we were honest with each other.

It's certainly time
you were honest with me.

Has Agnes been to see you?

How do you know about her?

Because I know about you...

...Jack.

Has she been?

No.

Do you know why'?

I know what you're doing.

Not at all sure
why you're doing it,

but it's a tragedy you haven't been able
to see the consequences.

And I think it's time
you stopped.

Because she's dead.

How'?

She was strangled
at an address in Brighton,

an address you'd be
very familiar with.

And you know who did it.

(VEHICLE PASSES)

HARRISON: To be
perfectly honest, Mr Wainwright,

I don't know why you just can't
take the money like everyone else.

Because it's not just a matter
of money, Mr Harrison.

Isn't it? How many names did you
manage to get on that petition of yours?

We got over 200.
200'?

ADAM:
The petition is irrelevant.

You're not building
on Highcliffe Green

because there's
evidence of a settlement.

What, because you found
a few old coins and broken lanterns?

We never mentioned
anything about lanterns.

But I will tell you
that we found this.

What is that'?

ADAM: The coins are
to pay the ferryman.

The lanterns
light the way to Hades.

And this, as Mr Huntsville
has verified, is a tubulus.

They poured honey and wine
through it to feed the dead.

Everything points to there being
a major Roman burial site

underneath Highcliffe Green,
Mr Harrison.

So no-one's gonna let you
anywhere near it.

(POUNDS TABLE)

HARRISON: Why?

Why did you have to
get involved in all that'?

Don't you believe
in progress?

Progress or profit?

I think I know
which one you believe in.

Adam, you were magnificent.
Do you think so'?

It was nothing less than
a triumph for democracy.

Well, common sense.
And Hill House.

We could have a fete on the green
to celebrate.

(DOG BARKS)
Yes.

What do you think?

(EXPLOSION)
(GASPS)

That's Hill House.

Crikey!
Not another bomb!

Oh!

No, Adam, wait!

Wait for the fire brigade.
What about the guests'?

Are you alright?
Yes, I'm fine.

Stay back, Mr Wainwright!
Mr West! Get out of here.

Is there anybody else up there?
I don't think so. I don't think so.

Sam!

(FIRE BELL CLANGS)
Mrs Crawley!

Is she alright?

She's still got a pulse.
She's still breathing.

Anybody in there?

I can smell gas.
Anybody there?

What the hell
are you doing in here?

This whole place
could collapse at any moment.

It's my hotel!

SAM: We've got
someone here who's hurt.

FIREMAN: Alright,
we'll take over now.

Look, just get out into the street.

Come on. I've got you.

Come on, darling.

Oh, Adam.

(SIGHS)

I'm sorry.

I don't know, Sam.

I never was cut out
to run a hotel anyway.

FIREMAN: There you go.

What will you do now'?

FIREMAN: That's it.

Thought I might marry you.

What?

I've got no house, no job,
no money and no future.

Will you marry me, Sam?

Adam!

You'd better hurry up
before a wall falls on top of us.

Come, on you two, out!
Oh!

Alright. Yes, I will.

Please get up!
Do you mean it?

Yes, of course I mean it.

Of...course I'll marry you.

I'll marry you in a shot.

Sam, that's wonderful.

(DEBRIS CRASHES)

(DOOR OPENS)

FOYLE: Oh, it's very good news,
Sir Charles, with regards to James.

What?
FOYLE: Uh...

Well, the verdict -
that is to say, the death penalty -

is certain to be overturned.

Darling,
that's wonderful!

(EXHALES DEEPLY)

That's more than
I could have hoped for.

Oh...

But how'?
How did this happen?

Well, he decided to speak.

And though there are
various procedures to go through,

in the light of what he's said,
he'll be released very soon.

JANE: Oh, my goodness.

Oh, we're...

We're very grateful to you,
Mr Foyle.

The only problem is, you'll now have to
account for your part in all this.

I don't understand.

How long
had you known Agnes?

I knew her
when we were children.

Her father worked on the estate.
We used to play together.

And later?

You wrote to her,
from Germany.

And she helped pass on
coded information in the letters

to the intelligence services,

which you signed 'Jack'.

How do you know all this?

So you don't deny it?

No.

Why 'Jack'?

My mother used to call me Jack.

It was the name of a character
in a story that I loved as a boy.

FOYLE: Jack...

Harkaway.

He joined the British Free Corps
to undermine and disrupt it

and used the freedom of movement
it gave him

to send reports back
to intelligence here.

He's a brave young man.

I knew it.

I knew he couldn't
have been a traitor.

Why didn't he say this?

Why did it never come out
in the trial?

Because he wanted to hang
as a traitor.

The codes I used
existed in various forms.

The letter you've mentioned
was written in 56 zero, for example,

which effectively means you pick out
the fifth and sixth word of each line.

And the backward date?
Indicates a concealed code.

Anyone else in the British Free Corps
know you were doing this?

Yes, there was.

(SHOUTS IN GERMAN)

James? James.

This is yours, I believe.

Where did you get that'?
Agnes Lyttleton?

You never mentioned a girl back home.
Give it to me!

You take a devil of a time
writing these letters, you know.

All those notes you make.

If I didn't know you better, James, I'd say
you were working on some sort of code.

Are you, James?

Actually, that would explain
a lot of things.

I always wondered what you
were doing here, you, of all people.

Always asking questions.

First of the bunch
to undermine morale.

Don't worry. I'm not gonna tell anyone.
I'm your friend. You can trust me.

But you're a sly old bugger,
aren't you?

MAN: Links! Links!

He'd worked it all out for himself.

I didn't need to say anything.

MILNER:
Jack Stanford.

I'm arresting you for the murder
of Agnes Lyttleton.

You don't have to say anything,
but anything you do say

may be taken down
and used in evidence against you.

Oh.

Well, that's a bit annoying,
I must say.

Really thought
I might get away with it.

End of the war,
all the confusion,

lost records,
all the rest of it.

I don't understand.

The letters that you were receiving from
Germany weren't from Jack Stanford.

They were from James Devereaux,
using a childhood nickname.

When Stanford found out
that James had gone missing,

presumed dead, in Dresden,

he took over his identity
to save his own neck.

Is this true?
I thought he was dead.

It was just a coincidence that he was
using my name, so I thought, why not?

Give it a shot.

But what about this girl'?
Why would she have to die'?

She was the only one who knew
the letters had been written by James.

As soon as the trial began,
she would have come forward.

So he killed her.

MILNER: The moment that James
was arrested and brought home,

it was a death sentence for her.

Stanford couldn't let her talk.

There was only one thing to do.

(GAS PS)

MILNER: You took the photograph
of James Devereaux with you -

the one thing that would have
still identified him as her boyfriend

and the real author of the letters.

BRENNER:
You're a murderer and a traitor.

Actually, I only joined the British Free
Corps because I was bored and hungry.

I'd had three years as a POW.

I always knew the whole thing
would be a complete lash-up.

BRENNER:
Why do you find this so funny?

I was just thinking
about what you said.

Murderer and a traitor.

I suppose it's a shame
they can't hang me twice.

DEVEREAUX: So...
Take him away.

...this man Stanford
was the real traitor.

But why did my son let him get away
with it? Why didn't he speak out?

Well, at the time, he was unaware
of Stanford's involvement.

None of this tells us why he put himself
in that position in the first place.

I don't understand.
Why would he want to die'?

Well, there are those far more qualified
than myself to explain this sort of thing,

but as far as I understand it,
he went missing

as a result
of the severe nervous collapse

he experienced
during the Dresden bombing,

itself compounded by the suppressed
traumas suffered in his childhood.

Would we be talking about
the death of his mother?

Would we'?

FOYLE: Why was it so very important
for your father to be at the trial

when you refused to even see
or speak to him before it?

And why would he believe
that you want to punish him?

Because it's true.

He needs to be.

FOYLE:
Punished?

Because of your mother?

I knew her.

I was injured
in the first war.

Not very badly, but I was
young, alone, frightened.

She was a volunteer nurse.

Your mother was beautiful.

I knew her.

She was married to my father
at the time?

Yes.

I can tell you that she was desperately
unhappy with the life she was leading,

at her happiest
when he was away...

...but chose to pursue that life

for the sake of the child
she was carrying.

Me.

The accident that killed her
was...just dreadful.

I was very unhappy
to hear that she died.

It wasn't an accident.

They'd had a terrible argument.

Something about Simon,
my old piano teacher.

DEVEREAUX:
You will not leave.

You will not humiliate
me and my family...

I was in the hide.

This is the end of it.
He didn't steal anything!

You had him sent to prison
because he was my friend,

because he knew
how you treated me.

DEVEREAUX:
He's a Jew. He's nothing.

CAROLINE: You make me sick,
Charles. I'm leaving you.

You will not leave me.
How will you stop me?

I'll tell the whole world
what sort of man you are.

Get out of my way!
You will not do this.

You will not leave me.

I will stop you. I will!

(STICK THUMPS)
(CAROLINE SCREAMS)

(HEARTBEAT)

Dear God, Charles.

You always said you loved her.

Charles?

I couldn't let her walk out on me.

My family doesn't divorce.

It's never happened.

So...so you killed her?

(JANE SOBS)
And James saw it all.

That poor little boy.

(DOOR CLOSES)

This way, sir.

Thank you once again, sir.

Well, not at all.
Thank you.

No, I can't take the credit
for the arrest.

I don't see why not.

So...this is goodbye.

Yeah, it looks like it.

You're on your own now.

He's got me, sir.

Precisely.

Good luck.

What will happen to me now'?

Well, I'd say you'll be released.

It may take a day or two.

And I'll be away for a while.

But as soon as I'm back,
if there's anything I can do to help...

Thank you, sir.

CAROLINE: You got me,
you got me, you got me!

CAROLINE::
Christopher, I'm so sorry.

I can? see you again,
and I want you to promise

that you'll never, ever try
to contact me again, whatever happens.

Now I have to think about the child,
so I'm going back to Charles.

There's no other way.
You don't know him.

Please, for the sake of
everything we've been to one another,

please, forget me.

(HORNS HONK)

Thank you.

Happy to drive you, sir,
one last time.

And do let me know
when it's gonna happen.

As soon as possible.

And I'll do my best
to get back in time.

All the relatives are fighting over
which church to have the ceremony in.

Of course, it doesn't help having
four vicars and a bishop in the family.

And then what?

Oh, I'm thinking
of getting into politics.

That business over the green
has given me a taste for it.

We're gonna have lots of children
and spoil them all rotten.

I'm very pleased to hear it.

'Bye.

US MAN: I'm gonna
go see my kids, you know.

MAN ON LOUDSPEAKER: All remaining
passengers for the 'Queen Mary:..

Send us a postcard, sir!

I will.

Good luck!

"Forward gangway, please.

(SHIP'S HORN HONKS)