All language subtitles for Foyles_War.S01E03.A_Lesson_In_Murder-eng

I don't believe in war.

I don't believe
it solves anything.

War is evil.

It's irrational.

And if history
has taught us anything,

it's that war only leads
to more war,

more killing, bigger armies.

And you want me to join up?

What you're asking me
to do is to take
a lesson in murder.

That's really all it is.

And I stand here today
because that is a lesson
I refuse to take.

Thank you very much,
Mr. Beale.

Very eloquently put.

I understand you have
quite a reputation as a writer.

Yes.

Unfortunately, it is not
your literary abilities

that we are here to examine.

If you came upon a child
injured in an air raid,

what would you do?

Sorry?

Well, it's
a fairly simple question.

You come upon a young girl
injured in an air raid.

Would you help her?

Yes. Of course.

Even though
that could be construed

as helping the war effort?

No. That's not
the same thing.

Do you obey
the black-out regulations?

Yes.

You have no moral objections?

No. Why... why should I?

Because you claim
to object to the war.

Although it would now
seem that you object

to only some aspects of it.

That's not true.

One moment, Mr. Beale.

We are not satisfied

that there is
a conscientious
objection

within the meaning
of the act
in this case.

Wait a minute.

Your application
is therefore
refused.

You'd made up your mind
before I even arrived here.

I mean, this is a travesty!

Will you be quiet?

No! I came here
because I want to be heard!

That is enough!

I do not recognize
the authority

of this tribunal.

Restrain him.

This is exactly
what I'm trying to say!

Come on, you.

Even if a country is at war,

an individual still
has a right to choose!

Officers,
will you please
arrest this man?

Come on!

I have a right to be heard!

David!

Who is this?

Conscientious
objector, Sir.
Beale.

Arrested
for breach
of the peace

and causing an affray.

A conchie, eh?

Well, we have
a special welcome
for people like you.

I had a brother
wounded at Dunkirk!

A lot of his mates
didn't make it.

Of course, if they
was all like you,

Hitler would already be here!

I'd like to see my husband.

Oh, I'm sorry,
Mrs., um...

Beale, Sir.

You have him in your cells.

Yes. I'm sure
that's the case,

but there are
official visiting hours.

Look, I'm just on my way home,

or I'd take you down
to see him myself,

but he'll be all right.

Why don't you come back
in the morning?

Bloody hell.

Sergeant! Sergeant Ferris!

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This may take a while, Sam.

Wait for me back at the station, hmm?

Right, Sir.

Lawrence, I've got
an exercise planned

for the defense volunteers.

We'll be doing it out here.

Well, keep it short.

Wait for me here.

Afternoon, Foyle.

Afternoon.

- No, Mr. Foyle.
- I'm sorry, but I don't agree.

As I understand it,
Hastings has been designated
a nodal point class A.

Now, that means that we're
expected to hold out
for a full 7 days

in the event
of a German invasion.

Yes. That's right.

All right. Now,
I have 200 men
under my command

in the local
defense volunteers.

Are you saying
I shouldn't let them know
what's expected of them?

No, Mr. Brooks.
I'm saying that we
needn't be too specific

about what may
or may not happen.

We can prepare
for the worst
without painting

too vivid a picture of it.

Well, I'm sorry,
but I disagree.

Preventing panic is
a large part of our job.

The railway stations,
tank traps, road signs
coming down...

people are obviously
aware that something
is happening.

But we don't have to
lay it on the line.

I agree with Foyle.

It's also getting rather late,

and I think we've
covered everything
exhaustively.

Whatever you say.

- Liven up!
- Come on! Lie down!

Lie down,
you people over there!

All right. Let's see
what you've got.

Raymond Brooks is a good man,

but he feels left out
this time round.

He was in France last time,
won the DSO at Ypres.

That's the trouble
with these war heroes.

They want to win this war, too.

Excellent work.
Well done.

Um, I think you better move.

Huh. What's
going on here?

That's Brooks for you.

Gas attack rehearsal.

Well, I daresay
I'll see you in court.

Good day.

I say, Milner, how much
longer do you think
he's going to be?

I don't know,
but I'm going home.

It's only
an invasion committee.

What have they got
to talk about?

The invasion.

I wish the Germans
would invade. At least
I'd get some tea.

Good evening, Sir.
I was just on my way home.

That's fine, Milner.
Good night.

You're still here?
You asked me
to wait for you, Sir.

Oh, did I?
I need something
out of the office,

and we'll be off.

Christopher,
we still on
for tomorrow?

Yes. 11:30.
Good.

Another committee?

Golf.

Oh.

Am I driving you home?

Uh, no. I can't bear
the thought of cooking
for myself again.

I'm going to go
to Carlo's, just around
the corner from me.

Oh, I've driven past there
a couple of times.

I've often thought
I might give it a try.

Well.

Where I'm staying,
the landlady doesn't allow
cooking after 6:00.

Oh, doesn't she?

What is the time, Sir?

It's half past seven.

Is it really, Sir?

Here we are.

Come on.

Thank you very much, Sir.

That's very kind of you.

Carlo?

Christopher.

How are you?

I'm fine. Thank you.

It's good to see you.

And you.
Thank you.

You're not eating
alone tonight?

Uh, apparently not.

No. This is my driver,
Sam Stewart.

Hello.

Hello. So they finally
got you one, huh?

Yeah, finally.

Now, you look after him.

He works too hard.

Ok.
What do you
want to eat?

I'll have the lasagne.

Uh, no, not the lasagne.

Not the lasagne?

No. Meat supplies
aren't so good,

and I know what went into it.

Oh, right.

I have some very nice
pork arrostita

with herbs and vegetables.

Fine.
I'll have
the same.

Good choice.
I'll get Tony
to bring some Chianti.

Excuse me.

Uh, follow me.

Please, uh...

Sit down.

Thank you.

I haven't seen Andrew
for quite a while.

What have you done with him?

I haven't done
anything with him.

He's with the RAF

A pilot?
Training.

Did he tell you?

Well, no, not until
after he'd joined.

These young people.

Where they are,
what they're doing...

they never tell you anything.

You must be very proud of him.

Of Andrew? Yes.

I think it's jolly
good that everyone
does their bit.

Yes, I do, too.

Where's he based?
Scotland.

Oh, poor him.

I went to Edinburgh.

Nearly died of cold.

My father took me
on an ecumenical
tour.

All I remember

is lots of drunken
old men drinking
too much whiskey

and arguing
about the book
of revelations.

Buona sera, signor Foyle.

Buona sera, Tony.

Que bella signora!

I'm sorry?

Tony, what the hell
do you think you're doing?

Ignore him.

It's the only Italian
he speaks,

and he uses it
on all the girls.

Dad...
eh?

This is Sam Stewart, my driver.

I haven't seen you here before.

I haven't been here before.

Well, I'm Antonio.

Everyone calls me Tony.

You haven't ordered
the lasagne?

No.

Good.

He was born in Bermondsey,

and he's never
been out the country.

Here's how.

What do you think you're doing?

You know you're not
allowed in here.

Now look what you've done!

Wretched boy!

Steady.

Don't run!

Oh!

That child
is quite ungovernable.

What is it this time?

He was in your study,

going through your desk.

Was he pilfering?

Daddy!
He's always
poking and prying.

It was a foolish idea
having him here
in the first place.

Of course it was
a foolish idea.
It was my idea.

I know you acted for the best,

but you have to agree,

Joe's been
a disaster from
the very start.

No, I don't agree.

Table manners out of the zoo.

Well, you'll
be glad to hear
that he's going.

Is he?
His parents
want him back.

And it's not
as if there have been
any bombs in London.

You didn't tell me
the parents have
been in touch.

Yes. They telephoned
this morning.

That's good news.

It's the only thing
this family has done
to help the war effort...

taking in
an 11-year-old child...

and you can't wait
to see the back of him.

Your father has done
a great deal to help
the war effort.

Well done, daddy.

I'm going to find Joe.

Pleasure to meet you.

You, too, Sir.

Thank you. See you
sometime soon.

I hope so.

Ciao.
Bye.

Thank you, Sir.

It's a pleasure.

Shall I run you home?

Miss Stewart.

These are for you.

Thank you.

Look, I was wondering.
This Friday...

What?
Would you like to come
to The Palais?

It's just I really want
to go, but I've got
no one to go with.

I'd love to.

I... I love dancing.

Would you?

Yes.

Well, that's great.

Great.

I'm going to walk home.

Joe.

What are you doing?

Why aren't you in bed?

Go away.

Joe, your father's
coming for you.

He's going to be here soon.

He just thought you'd be
safer here, that's all.

Come on, Joe.
Get into bed.

No.

Not until you've gone.

All right.

I'm going now.

Sorry, Joe.
I only wanted to help.

Tony.

Jack.

What are you doing here?

Don't worry.
I haven't done a bunk.

They let us all out...

everyone with 3 months
or less to serve.

Seems they need
the borstal for all
those fifth columnists

running around the country.

Yeah. They're filling it
with Jerries and Jews.

Hey, can I stay here?

Um... I'll have
to ask dad.

Tony, you'd be...

I'm... I'm sure
it'll be ok.

You're a real mate.
You know that?

So, what are you going to do?

Well, I might start
by paying a visit
to that bastard judge.

First offense,
and he had me birched

and thrown into that hellhole.

I've been thinking
about him a lot.

What'll you do to him?

I'll think of something.

Can I have a drink?

Yeah. Yeah,
of course, yeah.

And something to eat?
I'm starved.

You know, the more
I play this game,
the worse I seem to get.

Yes. It's probably
your age.

Thank you.

Downhill putts...

Go on forever.

At least I managed
to thrash Andrew

the last time I played him.

Better.

How is he?

Well...

I haven't heard from him,

so he obviously
doesn't need
any money.

Actually, Christopher,
there was an ulterior motive,

inviting you out here.

Well, there always is, Hugh.

Yes. I wanted to talk
to you about that man
who died in custody.

I realize
this probably isn't
the place, but, um...

Well, I thought it
better to do it
outside the station.

It was, um...

Suicide, wasn't it?

Yes.

Well, at least
everything
points to that.

He hanged himself.

Name of Beale.

David Beale.

Conscientious objector.

He'd just had
his application
turned down,

so I suppose
that could have
been the reason.

Anyway, I've spoken
to all the officers
on duty that night,

and they're all
very unforthcoming.

They're backing
one other up
to the hilt.

Probably means they're lying.

Good shot.

Yes. Well, that's
what I'm afraid of.

But I don't want
to push too hard,

whereas, um... well,
if you come in
from the outside...

I'll see what I can do.

Hmm.

Sorry. Bad time
to bring it up.

I came as soon as I heard.

There's nothing
you could have done, Theo.

There was nothing
any of us could do.

I'm so sorry.
I should have been here.

You know what David was like.

How's the book going?

Who was the head
of the tribunal?

Lawrence Gascoigne.

Why do you want to know?

I'd like to meet him.

Why? It wouldn't do
any good.

He kills David,
and we do nothing?

Because we're pacifists.
That's what we do.

There's nothing we can do.

I wonder.

David Beale,
taken into custody
a week ago.

Yes, I heard.
He died in his cell.

Duty officer was
a man called Ferris.

There were
at least 3 other men
on that night.

A few discreet
enquiries.
Keep it informal.

Sir.

And a bit more
about Beale
himself, maybe...

his wife,
background,
that sort of thing.

Right-o.

Good. Thank you.

There's somebody downstairs.

What time is it?

Quarter past 1:00.

Oh, it's probably Joe again.

Wait here.

Lawrence?

Lawrence.

Daddy, what is it?

Daddy, what's going on?

There was someone outside,

and he threw something
through the window.

A note.

"You, too, will
receive justice"?

Lawrence?

It's probably just nonsense,

but Emily insisted.

Anything like this before?

Every judge gets threatened
from time to time.

Normally, it's just
an outburst in the dock.

This is quite different.

Well, it's odd
in that it's, um,

certainly
very considered a threat,

but if they really wanted
to harm you, why are they
telling you about it?

Quite. A brick
through a window.

Cut-out letters.

It's really rather crude.

And neither of you
heard anything?

I was asleep.

I suddenly woke up.
I... I was shivering.

It was terribly cold.

I don't know why.

Could this be
related to your work,
do you think?

Not really.
The last couple
of months,

I've been dealing
with civil matters
mainly...

requisitions,

conscientious objectors,

the usual county court work.

David Beale was one
of yours, wasn't he?

Beale?

Oh, yes.

Of course,
I can't comment
on past cases.

No, of course not.

Right.

Beautiful house,
Mrs. Gascoigne.

- Thank you.
- I was born here.

It's been in my family
for generations.

It's a rambling place.

In fact, we only use
half of it.

Sometimes we talk about moving

somewhere a bit
more manageable.

Of course, I would
never do that.

This is my home.
This is where I belong.

Who are you?

I'm Sam.

That's a man's name.

Well, it... it's short
for Samantha.

Who are you?
And what are you doing?

Taking your number plate.

I'd watch out if I were you.

There's a policeman
standing behind you.

Who was that?

I don't know,
but he's got
our number.

Poison-pen letter?

Well, not exactly.
It wasn't written,
was it?

The words are cut
out of magazines
and newspapers.

Perhaps you could trace them,

see which papers
they came from.

That might tell you something

about the person who sent them.

Well, that had
occurred to me,
you know.

Sorry.

There were 4 officers on duty

the night that Beale died.

I've talked to them
all informally.

They could all be involved,

but I think William Ferris

is the one you should see.

The men are a bit
in awe of him.

And he has
a brother,
wounded at Dunkirk.

I thought it might be relevant,

Beale being
a conscientious
objector.

Good point.

One other thing, Sir.

I spoke to
the medical officer
who examined Beale,

and apparently his hair was wet

and his clothes were damp,

as if he'd showered
and then got dressed
in a hurry.

And his shirt
buttons were done up
the wrong way.

Get onto this, would you?

Delivered by brick
through the window

of a judge called
Lawrence Gascoigne
last night.

He was on Beale's tribunal.

And if you don't know
what to do with it,
ask Sam.

Permission to smoke, Sir?

Yeah. Go ahead.
Do you understand
why I'm here?

Look, Sir, if it's
about what happened,

I had nothing to do with that.

He came in, got into a funk,

and he hanged himself.

Why did he do that,
do you think?

Maybe he was scared
of the dark.

Well, I can't put that
in a report, you see,

and that's what all this
is about... reports.

You see, a man dies
in police custody,

we've got to investigate,
even a man like Beale.

It's a waste of
my time, it's a waste
of your time, but...

you don't like conchies?

I've got a lad
in the RAF

I've got a sergeant
who lost a leg
at Trondheim.

My brother was
wounded at Dunkirk.

Well, there you are, then.

Is he all right?

Can't wait to go
back out again.

Look,
you want to know
what happened...

Off the record?

See, off the record,
I think I probably know.

I just need a few details,
fill in the blanks.

For example, was it you
who dressed him again
after he was found?

Yeah, it was me.

How did you know?

It's quite difficult
dressing a dead man.

I mean, the buttons
were done up wrong,
and his hair was wet.

Was that because you
sprayed him down
with that...

look, Sir, it was just a joke.

Yeah, yeah.
Your idea, though?

Yeah, but I didn't
know he was going
to top himself.

Not that it's any great loss.

I'm with you on that one, Sir.

One dead conchie.
Who cares?

Yeah.

What are you
going to put
in your report?

Well, I thought I'd start

with your arrest
for aggravated assault,

which resulted
in this man's suicide...

What?

And finish off
with your dismissal
from the police force.

So you got my note.

You shouldn't be here.

You mean I should have
used the tradesman's
entrance?

I told you what would
happen if my father
found you here again,

and he did find you here.

And now he's
absolutely forbidden me
to see you again.

He found me here
because I can't bear
not being with you.

And now we won't
be able to see
each other anymore.

Well, why do you listen to him?

Your father's a bloody snob!

Everything's changing.

I know that.
You told me
you love me.

I do, but if he
found you here again,

there's no telling
what he would do.

What have you got to lose?

You don't need a house
that's too big for you,

a life that belongs
to last century.

You're not happy here.

Please, Peter...

I don't understand you.

I would give everything...
everything...

just to be with you.

Why can't you feel
the same way?

Mrs. Beale?

When you finish that,
you just fold it over,
and you have your butterfly.

Mrs. Beale?

Yes?

Uh, my name's Foyle.
I'm a police officer.

I wondered if I might
have a word with you.

Go on. I don't think
the children will mind,

and Mr. Szyszko doesn't
speak any English.

I'd like to speak to you
about your husband.

You certainly
seem to have quite
a community here.

We've become quite a center,

full of refugees
of one sort or another.

Friends come with
their children, pacifists.

Mr. Szyszko is Polish.

You wanted to talk to me
about my husband.

Yes. I wanted you
to know

that I'm very sorry
about what happened.
It was wrong.

I can promise you
that the people
involved

will be punished,

and if it's any consolation,

nothing like this
will happen again.

Theo, this is Mr. Foyle.
He's a policeman.

Theo was at Cambridge
with David,

and when we were married,
he was our best man.

What is it this time?

Mr. Foyle
has come to apologize.

You mean, to assuage his guilt?

I'm not here out of guilt,
Mr. Howard.

I'm here because I feel
it's the right thing to do.

David was a writer, you know?

A promising one.

He was published in Horizon.

Eliot read his work
and praised it.

But then I don't
suppose you know
much about poetry.

I've read "Ash Wednesday,"

"The hollow men."

David thought the world of him.

Why don't you
investigate
Lawrence Gascoigne?

Why would I do that?

I've been looking
at his record.

He's presided
over 5 tribunals
in the last month.

He dismissed
4 of the appeals,
including David.

But there was one...
just one hearing

where he turned
a strangely
sympathetic ear.

Stephen Brooks.

He's now an official
conscientious
objector...

a conchie.

He's never been here.

None of us have ever met him.

And none of us ever will

because now he's
working in Dorset

with the forestry commission,

nicely out of harm's way.

And?
Stephen's father
is Raymond Brooks.

I think
you know him...
rich, influential.

Gascoigne
certainly does.
They club together.

Well, whatever it is
you're trying to suggest,

there's, um... you don't
have any evidence for.

What evidence do I need?

David said from the start

that Gascoigne was
corrupt, and now
David's dead,

and you're here,
trying to keep
a lid on things.

Theo, that's not fair.

"You, too,
will receive justice."

What does that mean?
It was a note wrapped
around the brick

that went through
Gascoigne's window
last night.

I don't suppose
you know anything
about that, do you?

No...

But I'll tell you
something, someone's
got the right idea.

Hey, Florence.

You shouldn't have said that.

"Do not go into
that dark place.

"Fear it.
Fear the embrace
that awaits you,

"for you must know
it touches once

and then
will not let go."

David wrote that.

The war.

All the hatred.

I thought I could
escape it with you,
in this house.

You can.

We have to stand by
what we believe.

The individual
words aren't going to
tell us a great deal,

but I've managed to identify
a couple of them...

Illustrated
and The Daily Express.

I'd say that's
the work of someone
not out of the top drawer.

Or maybe they want us
to think that.
What's this?

Machine oil, I think.

And there are
traces of it on some
of the cuttings, too.

That's a bit clumsy.

A brick through
the window. It's not
particularly subtle.

Right. Leave this
with me, and you
get off home, yeah?

Thank you, Sir.

Hello.

I didn't hear you come in.

Not now, Paul.

I've got the oven on

and the table to lay.

There's a beer
in the cupboard
if you want.

Thank you.

They've finished
taking down
the signposts,

and the postman delivered

a whole lot
of these leaflets
this morning.

What do they say?

Hide your food.
Hide your maps.

Lock up your bicycles.

Don't leave anything
for the Germans.

Makes you nervous to go out.

Nothing is the same anymore.

I saw your case in the hall.

I thought I'd go
away for a while.

Oh?
Kate's.

Wales?

Ever since Owen was called up,

she's finding it hard to cope.

It'll do me good
to get away
for a while.

What about me?

There's
plenty of food
in the pantry.

I'll only be gone
a couple of weeks.

You don't mind, do you?

I suppose not.

When are you leaving?

There's a train
at 11:00.

This is all very sudden.

Well, Kate needs me,
and I don't want
to hang around.

I'll miss you.

I'll write.

Sam?

Good evening, Sir.

Well, you're looking, uh...

You said you didn't
need me this evening,

so I changed in the lavatory.

Right.
I'm going to a dance.

Oh, yes. With, um...
Tony.

To be honest,
he's not really my type,

but I thought,
in the circumstances,

I didn't want to let him down.

Well, you won't do that.

Have a good time.

You look great...

Out of uniform.

Thank you.

So, have you been driving
for him long, then...

Mr. Foyle?

Uh, only a few months.

Do you know him well?

Not really.
Dad made the cake
for his wedding.

That's how they met.

That's nice.

Do you want a drink?

Yes. Thank you.

Dad came over
about 20 years ago.

Used to run his own bakery.

Does he live
over the restaurant?

Yeah. He gets up
at 5:00 every morning
to bake his own bread.

Sounds like
his hours are even
worse than mine.

Have you ever been to Italy?

No.

Dad's from Naples,
and one day, I want to go.

Maybe on my honeymoon.

When... when I meet
the right girl.

You were going
to get me a drink.

I'll be...
I'll be right back.

I was beginning to think
you weren't coming.

I wasn't going to.

I shouldn't really
be here, but...

But what?

But I am.

So will you dance with me?

Excuse me. Do you mind
if I ask for a dance?

Hey, sweetheart.

Relax.

I am.

No, you're not.
You're scared.

You don't... you don't
understand my father.

Sometimes I wish...

What?

Nothing.

There you go.

Thank you.

Excuse me.

Hello, hello.
What's going on here?

You didn't tell me that
you were seeing a lady.

Hello, Jack.

This is Jack Winters.
He's a mate of mine.

You've been keeping secrets,

and a very pretty one.

Do you mind if I join you?

As a matter of fact, I do.

But thank you for asking.

So it's like that, then, is it?

Come on, Jack.
Chuck it.

Yeah.
See you later, Tony.

We were going to
meet up tonight,
remember?

Quiet.

I'm... I'm sorry
about that.

Are you working tonight?

No, no, no.
It's just Jack.

Forget it.

All right.

There's no need
to make that noise.

Joe!

Who was it on the telephone?

He didn't say.

Well, what did he want?

He told me to go
to the summer house.

What?

He said he'd left
something for me
in the summer house,

and he rang off.

Isn't that rather strange?

Of course it's strange.

Well, aren't you going
to see what it is?

Not now, no.
I'm having breakfast.

I'll go.

No, you won't.
Thank you, Joe.

Do as you're told.
You're not to go
in there.

I'm sorry
I'm late, Sir.
What happened?

I overslept.
Good time?

Yes. I'm afraid
I was out rather
late last night.

Won't happen
again, Sir.
Cup of tea?

Mm-hmm.

Joe!

Why don't you go
back to the car?

This was tied
to the door handle.

It's a grenade.

Open the door and, uh...

At least he wouldn't
have felt anything.

There's some mercy
in that, I suppose.

This was meant for Gascoigne.

Do all the family
use the summer house?

No. I had it built
as a retreat.

When I'm trying
a particularly
difficult case,

I go there to think.

I suppose that's
why it was chosen.

Joe should never have
come into this house.

That's true.
I was against it
from the start.

It was very commendable,
taking in an evacuee, Sir.

Well, it was
a good idea
in principle,

but as it's turned out...

oh, it's a horrible business.

I feel personally responsible.

You mentioned that his father
is coming today, Sir.

Yes. His name
is Pearson...

Eric Pearson.

Foyle,
I don't suppose
you could meet him?

I don't think I can face it.

Uh, did Joe have
his own room here?

Oh, yes.
Would you mind
if I saw it?

Why? This has nothing
to do with Joe.

It was Lawrence
who was the target.

That's true,
Mrs. Gascoigne,

but it was Joe who died.

I'll take you there myself.

Thank you.

This business of evacuees...

thousands of children
needlessly sent
all over the country.

It's been very badly handled.

Better than doing
nothing at all.

Joe had never slept in a bed
before he came here.

He thought sheets
were for dead people.

Oh, God,
I wish he'd never come.

Did he have any friends?

No, not that I know of.

Oh, that's his exercise book.

He carried it everywhere.

He was 11,
but he had the level
of a 6-year-old.

I'd say that was you,
wouldn't you?

Mind if I keep this?

Of course.
Whatever you want.

Would you make
a list of trials
and tribunals

you've presided over?

Yes, of course.

And, Sir,
is there anyone
you can think of

who might want to hurt you?

No.

Well...

Yes?

I did recently
have a set-to

with a man called
Peter Buckingham.

Oh, he wouldn't try
anything like this.

A set-to?

Well, it's
a very personal matter.

Well, a bomb in a summer house

is a rather
personal statement,
wouldn't you say?

Yes. Quite.

Peter Buckingham was
forcing his attentions
on my daughter.

He's a machine operator.

He works at the factory.

Which factory?

Oh, it's next
to the house on what
used to be a farm.

It's a plant, making munitions.

Susan met this fellow
in the village

and began this...
well, it was ridiculous.

And in the end,
I had to step in.

Did he threaten you?

Not specifically.

Could he have been
the man on the phone?

I don't know.

Right. I'm going
to put 2 or 3 men

outside here,
Mr. Gascoigne,
if that's all right.

Is that necessary?

Uh, well,
they missed this time.

They may try again.

I hate these people in here.

We don't really have a choice.

In my father's day,
they'd never be
allowed in the house.

Oh, that's exactly
the point. In your
father's day,

they wouldn't have
been allowed past
the third footman.

It was a different
age, Emily. I wish
you could see that.

Excuse me.
Mr. Pearson?

Yeah?

I wonder
if I might have
a word with you.

Who are you?

Uh, the name's Foyle.

I'm a police officer.

Why? What's
the matter?

Something wrong with Joe?

You know,
I never wanted Joe
to leave London.

I never wanted him to go.

But they said
it would be
better for him.

They said there'd be air raids

and there weren't
enough shelters.

And, you know,
Mr. Foyle,

even the missis
said he'd be safer
in the country.

She said all the boys
and girls were going.

She said he'd be safe.

And I took him
to the station myself.

And you've never seen
so many kids.

You could hardly see
the platforms.

And all the luggage everywhere,

mothers crying.

Little boys and girls,

all with those labels
round their necks,
you know,

all being packed off.

But Joe...

Joe didn't want to go.

Joe held onto my leg...

And in the end,
they took him away,

and they packed him
off in a carriage
with hundreds of them.

And walking home...

That was the strange
thing, Mr. Foyle,

because the streets were empty.

Nobody laughing, nobody crying,

nobody shouting,
nobody kicking a ball.

I've never heard
anything like it before
in my life, Mr. Foyle.

It was a city with no kids,
but I didn't mind...

Because they said he'd be safe,

and that's all
that mattered to me.

You know, he was safe.

And for months and months,
I've been sitting
there in London,

and not a single bomb
has fallen!

And you're telling me now...

That my son
has been killed here,

with strangers,

because he just got in the way!

Now, where's this Gascoigne?

I want to see him
face to face.
Where is he?

Mr. Pearson,
there's nothing
you can do here.

You should go back.

No, Mr. Foyle.
I'm staying.

And I'm not leaving
without my boy.

All right. We'll
find you a room.

But there's no point
in confronting him
with this.

I'm staying.

Theo!

Theo.

Where did you go last night?

What?

You went out.
Where were you?

Why?

I've just come
from the village,

and they're saying
that someone tried to kill
Lawrence Gascoigne.

What are you talking about?

Why are you asking me?

You know why.
Do I?

Florence, for God's sake,

we've marched together.

We've been to meetings.

All my life,
like you and David,

I've been against killing.

And now are you telling me...

I don't know.

But after what you said...

And you weren't here
last night.

You said someone
tried to kill
Lawrence Gascoigne.

Did they succeed?

No.
Shame.

Tony?

What are you doing here?

I had to see you again.

Not here.

I... I need
to talk to you.

You're going to get me shot.

It's just... I had
such a great night
last night.

And... and you
enjoyed it, too?

It was fun.

Will you come out
again tonight?

Well, I...
we can go and have
a drink, maybe.

I really need
to talk to you
about something.

Is it about your friend?

No, no. It's nothing
to do with that,
but, um...

It's important.

Please?

All right.

Well, I finish
at 6:00,

so I'll meet you outside.

6:00.

Now, go. Go on.

And we should put somebody
inside Gascoigne's house,
you know.

3 men outside isn't enough.

Who do you have in mind?

Well, having arrested
4 of our own men,

we're a bit bloody
short-staffed, aren't we?

I could do it, Sir.

I didn't like to ask.
What about your wife?

Oh, she's had to go
to her sister's
in Wales.

Right. Thank you.

Yes?

Sam, won't be a minute.

Where have you put Pearson?

He's in The Crescent, Sir.

Good. And we must
get round to these.

Do you recognize
any of those names?

No.

What are these?

Gascoigne's cases
over the last 6 months.

Jack Winters.
I know him.

I met him at the dance
last night.

Could be the same man.

Gascoigne sent him down
for burglary and assault.

He was birched
and given 6 months.

Oh, he didn't mention
any of that.

Well, he wouldn't, would he?

You get over there.
I'll make sure he knows.

Sir.
Sam?

Yes. He turned up
at the dance.

I can't say I took
a great shine to him.

To be honest,
I think Tony's
a little in awe of him.

Did he say anything at all?

No, Sir.

Oh.

Sorry. Do you want me
to ask Tony about him?

No. Better not.

Oh.

I think this is
as far as we can go.

Looks like it.

Ah, sergeant.

Now, I can't pretend
I'm entirely happy
with this situation,

but I suppose needs must.

That's what
Mr. Foyle said, Sir.

Are you armed?

Yes.

Well, try to think of yourself

as a house guest
while you're here.

I don't know
how long this is
supposed to go on.

Still...

Oh, this is my daughter Susan.

Susan, this is sergeant Milner.

Good day, Miss.

Good afternoon.

Perhaps you
could show him
to his room.

Yes, of course.

It's through here.

Can I help you?

I hope so.
Who are you?

I'm the foreman here...
Hawkins.

I'm a police officer.
I'd like to speak
to a Peter Buckingham

who I understand works here.

I'm afraid I can't
allow you in.

Why is that?

We work for the War Office.

If you want to come in here,
you'll have to talk to them.

Right. What is it
you do here?

Produce munitions.

Oh. Uh, is
Peter Buckingham here?

You can talk to him
if you like,

but you can't go
into the factory,

and he can't discuss his work.

Just wait here,
and I'll get him.

Right.

It seems you know everything...

not that it's any
of your business, like.

Well, I met Susan
in the village.

I didn't know who she was then.

We began to see each other.

Where did you see each other?

We went walking...

In the fields and woods
and that.

But that wasn't enough for me,

so I started coming
to the house.

There's this
summer house that...

ah, you went there, did you?

Lots of times...

Until we went there
once too often,
and her dad turned up.

He saw us together,
and... That was it.

You been back
to the summer house?

No.

No, uh, I'm not
seeing Susan anymore.

Look...

I never threatened Gascoigne.

He threatened me.

If he found me
on his property again,

it'd be the police and prison

and God knows what.

Now, is that all?
I've got to get
back to my work.

Yes, of course.
What is it you do?

I'm a machine operator.

Oh, right.

Well, thanks for your time.

Very pleased to meet you.

Right.

It's a bit odd, isn't it?

What is, Sir?

A metalworker...
machine operator...
with clean hands?

Maybe he washed them.

Maybe.

They're supposed to be
making munitions here.

Yes.

Well, would you want
to transport explosives
along tracks like these?

Look at them.

And metalworking,
hardening steel...

you'd need furnaces,
lots of heat,
wouldn't you?

I suppose so.

Well...

There's no chimneys.

Hello, sergeant Milner.

Miss Gascoigne.

Oh, please,
you can call me Susan.

Daddy doesn't like me
smoking in the house.

Actually, he doesn't
like me smoking at all.

You won't tell him, will you?

No, of course not.

I can't stop thinking
about poor Joe.

Were you close to him?

I tried to be,

but he hated being here.

You could see it in his eyes.

The Nazis were never
the enemy as far as
he was concerned.

We were.

I'm sure that's not true.

I can understand it.

Coming from the East End,

this place
must have seemed
like another planet.

It's a big house.

We don't even use half of it.

What's the point of having
servant's quarters

when you can hardly
even afford servants?

It was good of you,
taking in an evacuee.

Well, just for once,
I was determined
to have my own way.

I went to the station,

and there were all
these children lined up,

hundreds of them,

all labeled
with their suitcases.

The good-looking ones
went first,

and then the strong ones
who might be able to help
around the house.

Joe was one of the last,

and I chose him because
he reminded me of me.

Of you?

Left out.

I had all sorts of ideas,

like he might be like
the little brother
that I never had.

But it didn't
work out like that.

Susan?

Here, quick.

Ah, there you are.

We were just talking, daddy.

I hope
you don't mind
my smoking, Sir.

So long as you don't
do it in the house.

Come inside, Susan.

I don't want you catching cold.

How many years
have you been coming
here now?

Too many.

I still remember
the first day you came,

you and Mrs. Foyle.

Well, we weren't
actually married then.

And do you know...

I think that was
the worst meal
we ever had.

The chef was sick.

I'm surprised we ever
came back, you know?

And the world's
not the same anymore.

Mussolini...

He and Hitler...

He's crazy enough
to declare war.

It could happen any day now,

and what then, huh?

What happens
to my family and me?

Italy might still stay neutral.

I don't think so.

Everyone's afraid.

You know, there's
a restaurant called
the casa alberta.

They're changing their name

to le chateau d'or.

Suddenly it's French.

New name, new menu,

same owner.

You might have to do the same.

And then there's Tony.

He's a good boy.
He works hard.

But his heart, hmm?

It's not in the business.

I worry about him.

Does the name, um...

Jack Winters
mean anything to you?

Yeah. That's
a friend of his.

Jack Winters.

The two of them
were at school
together.

I don't like him.

He smiles, he's very charming,

but he's no good.

He was at borstal.

Do you think
he's mixed up
in something?

Probably not.

You'd tell me
if Tony was getting
himself involved.

Well, the only thing
Tony's involved with
at the moment, Carlo,

is my driver.

Thanks for coming out again.

It's a pleasure.

You see, there's
something I wanted
to talk to you about.

Is it about Jack?

No. No, no.
He's all right... Jack.

I mean, I'm sorry
about him turning up
the other night.

No. I wanted to talk
about you and me.

Oh. Really?

Look, Sam...

The thing is...

I've joined up.

Any day now, I'm going
to be in uniform.

That's wonderful, Tony.

I'm not sure dad's going
to see it that way.

But I can't spend
the war as a waiter
in a little restaurant.

When are you going to tell him?

I don't know.

Soon.

But the thing is...

When I think about...

Fighting and shooting
and all the rest of it,

I really get the heavies,
you know?

I'm scared.

And the other thing is...

look, I shouldn't be
saying this.

I've never really had
a girlfriend,

not a real one, and I wish...

It would be easier

if there was someone
I could write to,

someone who could write to me.

You know?

I shouldn't ask.

I hardly know you.

Of course I'll write
to you, Tony.

I'll even send you
cigarettes and socks
if you like.

You'll be my girl back home?

Keep the home fires burning.

Mr. Foyle,
how nice to see you.

Do come in.

Has somebody offered you
a cup of tea?

Not for me, thanks.

That'll be all, then, Evelyn.

Make sure we're
not disturbed.
Yes, Sir.

Please, sit down.

You certainly have, uh...

Extensive business
interests, Mr. Brooks.

Well, I was lucky.

My father owned tin mines.

Now we make everything
from tin cans
to shell cases,

and I think we're
going to be making
an awful lot more of those

in the days to come.

In your factories
in southampton?

Yes, yes. That's right.
Are you investigating me?

No, not at all.

This is, uh,
something involving
Lawrence Gascoigne.

You have
a close association
with him.

Yes. We've been
working together
on the defense committee.

But beyond that,
you have other
connections.

What makes you say that?

Yes. We see each other
from time to time socially.

I've been to his house.

Just recently?

Yeah. Confidential matter.

To do with your son?

You have a son Stephen

who's in Dorset, is that right?

I prefer not to speak
about Stephen.

We're not on speaking terms.

I'm not very proud
of what I did, Mr. Foyle,

but, yes,
I did go and see
Lawrence Gascoigne,

and I'm going to tell you why.

You may know that I...
I fought in the war.

I came out of it unscathed.

And decorated?

That, too.

And when this second war came,

I had every expectation

that Stephen would do the same,

but I was wrong.

He told me he had
no intention of fighting.

He came out with
some half-baked nonsense

about peace and democracy
and civilized values,

as if he couldn't see
that the Nazis

were going to burn
and plunder their way
across Europe

if someone didn't stand
in their way.

Well, we had a bitter argument.

To be honest, we've
hardly spoken since.

Anyway, the next thing I heard

was that Stephen
was going up
before a tribunal

as a self-professed
conscientious objector.

And by coincidence,

the judge was going to be
Lawrence Gascoigne.

So I decided to go and see him.

I wanted to tell him
what I believed

and what I believe
to this day...

that Stephen
was afraid to fight,

that he was no more
a conscientious objector
than you or I.

You may say that
what I did was wrong.

It was a matter
of pride for me.

And so what happened?

Gascoigne barely heard me out.

I'd hardly mentioned
Stephen's name

before the conversation
was over.

He was very angry
that I'd gone there at all.

And so were you
surprised that
your son's name

was added to the register

of conscientious objectors?

No, I wasn't surprised.

I suppose Gascoigne did
what he had to do, but, uh...

I no longer have anything
to do with Stephen.

As far as I'm concerned,

I no longer have a son.

Theo?

Theo...

What are you doing?

Where are you going?

I'm sorry.
I can't explain.

There's something I have to do.

What?

Florence, forgive me.

I'll be back soon.

It's just called the factory.

I don't know
anything more about it

except they claim
to have some link
with the War Office.

I...

Let me know. Thank you.

Anything?

No. But I do know
that this man
Peter Buckingham

is no metalworker.

He's a carpenter by trade.

This is a notebook
kept by the boy

that the Gascoignes took in.

The evacuee fancied
himself as a bit

of a policeman, I think.

This... what do you
make of it?

"Facray."

Could he have meant
"factory," do you think?

The factory was
next door, and it's
shrouded in secrecy.

The gates are bolted.

Just the sort of thing
he'd have been
curious about.

Well, what about
these other words?

"Pay sooo."

Don't know.
Could be anything.

What, do you think that the boy

was the real target
and not Gascoigne?

I don't really see
how he could have been.

It was Gascoigne
who got the phone call

that told him to go
to the summer house.

Well, I suppose there's
one way you'll find out...

if someone has another go.

Are you really
going to stand here
keeping watch?

That's what I'm here for.

Do you have a gun?

I feel like James Cagney

with it shoved
into my waistband.

What is it?

There's someone down there.

Quick, this way.

Straight ahead,
through the woods.

Roger.

Oh, it's you.

You shouldn't
really be out here,
Miss Gascoigne.

He could come back.

Why, are you afraid
I'll get shot?

Actually, you're
breaking the black-out.

Your cigarette.

I'll put it out.

Can I ask you something?

Are you married?

Yes.

Are you very much in love?

Sorry. I shouldn't
be asking these
questions. It's...

I've got nobody to turn to.

Miss Gascoigne...

there's somebody I've met,

and he's asked me to marry him,

and I want to.

I love him.

But my father
won't hear of it.
He won't even...

I'm on duty here.

How much does the world
have to change

before people like us
can behave

how we want to and not
how we're expected to?

You shouldn't be
talking to me
like this.

It's just that
you're the only person
I've had to talk to.

It's all right.

Why can't I marry
the man I love?

Why does my father
have to stop me?

I'm sure he just
wants what's
best for you.

What on earth do you
think you're doing?

Daddy, it's... it's
not what you think.

Oh, take her to her room.

I beg your pardon?

You heard me.
Take her upstairs.

He wasn't doing anything!

What? Darling...

Sir...
I want you
out of my house!

Believe me, Sir...
I saw what
you were doing.

She was upset.
You will leave
this instant.

No, Sir. I'm here
to protect you.

Get out!

You going out?

We're just about
finished here,
ain't we?

Where are you going?

Just out.

Antonio, please,
I worry about you.

Why?
You're going to see
Jack Winters, right?

Dad, when are you
going to realize

I'm not a little boy
anymore? I can look
after myself.

The police know about him.

He's trouble.

Dad...

I need
to talk to you
about something.

Now, I've made a decision.

If it's to do
with Jack Winters,
I don't want to know.

I tell you what...

It doesn't matter.

Don't wait up.

I'm sorry!

Hold it! Hold it!

I got him.
I got him.
Come on.

That's it.

Hang on.

It looks
as if he was the target, Sir.

Yes. Looks like it.

There's no sign of any weapon?

No.

And all the doors were locked?

Yes.

And all the windows
were locked?

And nothing's
been tampered with.

Right.

I should have been here, Sir.

No. That's all right.

He completely misunderstood.

No. I just wonder why...
if he really thought
his life was in danger,

why he should choose to,
um, lose his police
bodyguard?

Mrs. Gascoigne,
what can you tell me
about last night?

I mean, your husband and Susan

had an argument, is that right?

Yes. He was very angry.

He came downstairs.

He wanted to be alone.

And then what?

Did you hear anything?

I heard a shot.

Do you keep a gun
in the house,
Mrs. Gascoigne?

My father kept a gun
in the top drawer
of his desk.

He was worried
about the invasion.

It's the top
right-hand drawer.

Top right-hand drawer?

It's not here.

Yes?

Sir?
Sam.

Is it true
they've arrested Tony?

And Jack Winters, yes.

I really don't think
he had anything to do
with Gascoigne's death.

Well, except that
he was at the house
when it happened.

I don't think
he wanted to be there.

He's responsible
for his own actions.

I just think
you ought to know
that he's just joined up.

He didn't want anyone to know.

I just don't think
he had it in him
to hurt anyone, Sir.

I don't know what
to say to you,
Mr. Foyle.

What the hell
did you think you
were doing, Tony?

It was Jack's idea.

He wanted to get his own back.

By shooting him?

No. He was just going
to break in, make a mess.

I tried to talk him
out of it, I swear.

You're joining up,
is that right?

Sam told you?

Why haven't you told your dad?

I was going to,
Mr. Foyle,

but after this...

They won't have me,
I don't suppose.

They'll have you, Tony.

You've not been
arrested... Yet.

Tell your father.

You were caught in the grounds

of Lawrence Gascoigne's house.

I didn't go
anywhere near the house.

I wasn't doing nothing wrong.

You were trespassing.
Trespassing? Ooh.

You were planning
to break in.
Says you.

We found a bag and a crowbar.

Those were Tony's.
You still have
two months

of your sentence
left to serve.
Isn't that right?

We can arrange
for you to go back.

And what about Tony?

He gets off scot-free
because your boss
knows his dad?

Christopher.

Carlo.

Please tell me it isn't true.

You told me Tony
wasn't involved,

and now they tell me
that he's mixed up
in a murder.

Where is he?

He's downstairs.
He's all right.
Come in here.

You've spoken to him?

I've spoken to him.
Of course I've
spoken to him.

He's not involved.
You know that.

Carlo, for heaven's sake,

how long have I
known him? Really.

I'm going to tell you this,

but believe me,
he will tell you.

You ought to know
that he's joined up.

He's done what?

He's joined up,
and he's not telling you

because you're angry with him.

This makes me proud
of him, Christopher.

In Italy, in Germany,

we have to fight fascism.

Well, will you tell him that?

He's free to go.
Take him home.

Thank you, Christopher.

It's a pleasure.

Sam.

Are we going back
to Gascoigne's place?

No, we're not.

Right here.

To the factory?

Yes.

- I'm sorry, Mr. Foyle.
- I've already told you...

Mr. Hawkins,
the War Office

has disavowed
any knowledge of you
and this factory.

You're not working for them,

and you're not
producing munitions
here, either.

An 11-year-old child
has died,

quite possibly as
a result of what's
going on here.

Now, you either tell
me what that is,

or I arrest you
for obstruction.

All right, Mr. Foyle,

but I'll be
reporting back on this.

Open the gate.

Now maybe you'll understand

why this place
is off-limits.

Those are my orders
from the ministry
of health.

But why?

They're preparing.

They know what's coming...

the luftwaffe,

the most powerful air force

in the world.

There's been a few bombs
down in the southeast,

but that was just a taster.

Soon they'll target London,

and there's going
to be more bodies
than you can imagine,

and they're going
to need coffins.

Someone has to make them.

Yeah. But...

Nobody's meant to know.

They're worried about morale...

And with good reason.

Have you seen enough?

Yes, thank you.

Nice to see you
again, Mr. Foyle.

What can I do for you?

I was wondering what access

the defense volunteers have
to weapons.

Getting
any sort of weapon
is almost impossible.

No rifles? No grenades?

Molotov cocktails
is more the mark.

At the moment, I have
about one rifle

for every 15 men in the unit.

The situation's absurd.

We're doing valuable work,

defending vital installations.

How we're supposed to
do that without proper
support is beyond me.

Lawrence Gascoigne
ever visit the unit?

Uh, yes. Once.

Gascoigne's dead.

You were supposed
to protect him.

Well, I couldn't
protect him, Mr. Brooks,

because he was lying to me
in much the same way
as you have been.

What are you saying?

I'm saying that
you haven't been
telling me the truth

about your visit to Gascoigne

or, indeed, about your son.

I thought I had.

So did I.

This, amongst other things,

is a record
of comings and goings

and observations
by the 11-year-old evacuee

that the Gascoigne family
took in.

This, for example,

is a note about my visit
to the house.

And this is a note

about my car
registration number.

And this over here is a note

about your visit to the house.

This word, for example...
"facray."

I thought it was
probably a misspelling
of the word "factory"

because there was a factory
next door to the house.

Isn't it?

No. In fact,
it's your car
registration number...

f-a-c 345.

This is your name,
and this here...

in the same way
that he got his "s" s
the wrong way round,

he got his "2" s
the wrong way round,

and so, in fact,
his "2"s look like "s"s,
and this is, in fact,

the amount... £2,000...

that you paid to Gascoigne

to make sure that your son
wouldn't have to fight,

which does, in fact,

correspond with the amount
that was withdrawn

from your private account
the day before you met.

If you remember,
the last time I was here,

you told me
that you weren't speaking
to your son,

but, in fact, you phoned
his Dorset number
from this number

a dozen times since then.

£2,000, was it?

That's an awful lot of money.

I did bribe Gascoigne.

I wasn't the first.

Gascoigne lived
way beyond his means,

and word got around
that, from time to time,
he could be bought.

I don't understand why.

You have no idea...

What I saw in the war.

Passchendaele...

Was a stinking quagmire.

I saw men step off
the duckboards

and drown in mud.

I saw men...

Blown apart.

What did we achieve?

Here we are at war
again, the same enemy.

We achieved nothing.

I wasn't going to let
that happen to Stephen.

I love him too much.

Thank you, Sir.

Thank you for coming with me.

I still can't
believe you're
joining up.

Can you forgive me?

There's nothing to forgive.

David and I never tried

to force what we
thought on anyone.

I know that.

But I wish I understood.

I loved David, you know.

He was so talented.
He was funny.

He was kind.

He was my best friend.

And the fact is that
Lawrence Gascoigne
killed him.

I know he didn't tie the noose,

but it came down
to the same thing.

You went round to
his house, didn't you?

And you had a gun.

Hadn't been touched
since the last war.

I don't even know if it works.

Did you find out?

No, of course not.

I didn't get anywhere near.

There were police
all over the place.

But it made me realize
I wanted to kill him.

I really did.

Oh, I was in the grip
of some sort of...

Some sort of madness...

Hatred.

I've never felt anything
like it. It was...

Totally overpowering.

David used to talk
about the war

as a lesson in murder.

He was right.

I still believe
in pacifism, Florence.

That hasn't changed, but...

I'm as capable of killing
as the next man.

So I might as well
use that capability

and do my bit
to save civilization.

I can fight...

So I should.

I'm very pleased
you've decided to go
back, Mr. Pearson.

I don't want to be here.

I understand.

Thank you, Mr. Foyle.

I know you've tried
to do your best.

Well, I suppose
this is good-bye.

Will you write to me?

Of course I'll
write to you, Theo.

And I'll still be here...

When you come back.

I'm sorry.

Oh, don't.

Just look after yourself.

Joe used to
send me picture postcards.

I don't read too well.

I came down a couple of times.

Used to get a special rate
on the railways.

I used to take him out for tea.

The Gascoignes
didn't want me
up at the house.

They... what is it
they said?

It'd be far too hard for Joe.

Joe knew you were coming.

I telephoned him, yeah.

Did he say anything?

Well, he was pleased, you know.

Said he had a lot to tell me.

I bet he did.

Do you know
who killed him,
Mr. Foyle?

Yes.

Yeah. God rot him,
whoever he is, eh?

Hmm.

Mrs. Gascoigne...

I'm here to arrest
you for the murder
of your husband.

Yes. Yes, yes.

Have I time to pack
a few things?

You just need your coat.

I understand.

Mr. Milner,
what's going on?

I'm sorry, Miss Gascoigne.

Where are you taking my mother?

Miss Gascoigne,
I'm afraid I've got
some rather bad news for you.

See, Joe was about to
return to his parents
in London.

Joe, your father's
coming for you.

And the timing just
couldn't have been worse

as far as your father
was concerned

because it was only
a little while before

that he'd discovered
that Joe had either seen
him or overheard him

accepting a £2,000 bribe

from a businessman.

And Joe was going to tell?

If he had, your father
would have lost
everything.

A judge taking bribes
on that sort of scale...

it wouldn't
just have meant
the end of his career.

He'd most certainly
have gone to jail.

What about the death threats?

The death threats weren't real

because your father
made them himself...

To make it seem
that he and not Joe

was the intended victim.

The brick through the window...

He threw it himself.

And the note...

"You, too, will
receive justice"?

He prepared that himself.

Lawrence?

And he even went as far

as trying to settle
another score

by implicating you.

I did recently
have a set-to.

The only person
he mentioned was you.

Peter Buckingham was
forcing his attentions
on my daughter.

So in the letter...

He used cuttings
from the kind of paper

he imagined you read,

and then he added
a few smears of machine oil.

Because he'd bought the story

that you were
a machine operator

in a factory
producing armaments,

which wasn't,
of course, the case,

and the oil was...

A detail too many.

So I'm afraid
it was your father

who took the grenade
from the defense
volunteers.

It was your father
who set up
the device

in the summer house.

I can't believe this.

And it was your father who,

the following
morning, faked
the telephone call.

He said he'd left something
for me in the summer house.

I'll go.
A strange
phone call...

He rang off.
A secret
parcel...

And telling Joe
not to go into
the summer house

was, in fact, the very best way

of making sure
he did exactly that.

Joe!

So it seemed
as if Joe had been
killed accidentally,

and your father

thought his secret was safe.

I can't believe my father
could have done this.

It's
a very great deal
for you to take in.

But my father was killed.

Yes.

My mother.

Yes.

How do you know?

Well, because the house
was locked.

He was killed with his own gun,

and only he, you,
and your mother
knew it was there,

and, uh, it wasn't you.

Some family.

I knew that something
was wrong.

That business with the brick

through the window,
for example.

And neither of you
heard anything?

Well, I... I was asleep.

I suddenly woke up.

I... I was shivering.

It was terribly cold.

I don't know why.

Lawrence had opened
the front door.

He'd let in the cold air.

That was what made me shiver.

Do you see?

He had to go outside
in order to throw the brick.

Did you know all along?

No, I didn't know.

That's when I confronted him.

That's when he told me.

All right! I killed him!

Lawrence, no.

He was nothing...
a guttersnipe!

That little vermin should
never have come here
in the first place.

Always snooping around,
poking and prying.

He threatened me,
for heaven's sake!

But...
He was a child.

He was here when Brooks came.

He heard the whole thing.

You...

Killed a child.

We killed him, Emily!

No.

Keeping up appearances!

That's the reason
I needed the money
in the first place.

Ever since I married
into your bloody family...

How dare you
bring my family
into this?!

And moved
into this bloody house,

I've been scrimping and saving.

Do you think I was going to let

the whole pack of cards
come crumbling down

because of some East End brat?

I won't be part of this!

Well, you are part of it!

You're the reason it happened!

No!

What are you doing?

You, too, will receive justice!

What are you doing with that?
Put it down!

That moment,
I think I hated him
more than anyone...

More than I'd hated
anyone ever before.

But I didn't kill him
for that reason.

I killed him
because it was
the right thing to do.

Burning the midnight oil?

Case notes.

What is the time?

After 10:00.

I heard about Emily Gascoigne.

Nasty business.

Evil times.

And getting worse.

You haven't heard the wireless?

No.

Italy has declared war.

It was on the news.

So now we really are
up against it.

There have been
riots in London,
apparently,

fires in the East End.

Good night.

Good night.

Get away! Coming in!

Where is he?

He's dead.

We were both asleep.

There was smoke and...

And flames.

The firemen got me out.

Dad didn't make it.

I'm so sorry, Tony.

What sort of a world
is this, Mr. Foyle?

Tony.

I don't know what to say.

Neither do I.

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