Original subtitles

Here's to Joe Stalin's next stroke. Tinkerty-tonk.

Who was he? Victor all met him before an air raid. 41.

It is true. I switched the glasses. He drank the poison meant for one of us.

Nafije and Ruhije. We'd be ever so grateful if you'd just keep an eye on

them. This was the third attempt on our life since we left New York.

The first thing you must do is arrest that cocktail waiter and you must bring

in any others on the staff. You have a reservation?

Uh, no. My wife does. Your wife.

time for a little chat. What does Jack know?

My wife and I have an arrangement.

Does that mean his late father?

Nothing more. And should we trust you?

Well, suppose you'll find out.

When the next session comes...

Hello again?

Hello.

Please.

For them like Brazil.

Who is it?

It's me.

Champagne?

I can't see this.

Will.

Ooh, here.

We did not order champagne.

Ooh, here.

Oh, my face.

Look out.

Look out.

Oh, my face.

Look out.

Look out.

It's me.

Oh, I need help.

I need help.

I need help.

Well,

let's all calm down, should we?

Oh,

that already has all hurts.

You okay?

You shut up.

You bloody carpet.

You lunatic.

I thought you had the gun.

It was a champagne bottle.

No.

Oh, God.

Am I going to die?

It's just a graze.

Luckily for you, your role has.

This is a very, very regrettable incident, Miss.

Edie Rattle.

Miss Edie.

We live under the constant threat of assassination.

The black mantle of death hovers over us like the London fog.

Sometimes we make mistakes out of fear.

You must forgive us.

Oh, you shouldn't forgive them.

You should press charges.

Don't tell me what to do.

Okay.

I've had enough of it.

I've simply had enough of it.

We understand, dear.

Do you?

Because I've just ended a ship that started

with a pass and ended with me getting fired.

Fired?

Yeah, I've been handed my cards, haven't I?

What?

Why?

What for?

Because...

Some sabotage the boilers.

Tipped linseed oil into them.

Yeah, but why would they fit the dust, you?

I have a motive.

Mr. Klein gave me a mouthful for standing up to that bastard.

And now I've been shot.

Please, shot.

What's that?

More Fintar treat.

I'm not going to have you jabbing me like a bloody pink horse.

It will ease your pain.

I'll live.

And if you do think that I'm just going to hop on the night post and say,

oh, it must be beastly that your country hates your

guts and your forces to slum it out here in the walls.

You think it can lead us.

No wonder you're so nervous around the working classes.

You've done a lot to be.

I'll have that more if you know.

Ow.

Soy de rattle.

What do you suggest?

I'll stay here tonight.

And the royal suite.

There are only two beds.

Then I'll have the biggest.

And I'll have breakfast in it.

I think that's a very modest amount, considering the bullets in the wall.

I know the importance of the rules of hospitality in your country.

I've been reading up on them.

That's right, Mr. Book.

At home, we are obliged to take in those who need shelter.

During the war, many British officers were parachuted into our territory.

None were betrayed.

I'll sleep on the sofa.

Right.

Now which one of you has landed, meet your toothbrush?

I'll get someone to come and have a look at this.

It's good to see you, Jack.

We lost him.

We never really knew him.

Of course, it was impossible to predict how he'd react when I was hoping for... Simply.

That's just the way it is with some people.

They get down on a thing when they don't know nothing about it.

I'll call very thin.

Top marks.

You can sleep on the left.

I like that Edie.

Sharp as her nibs.

The princess.

Busy day tomorrow.

Bliss has arrested Ghazili.

Oh.

It's a mistake.

So I suspect I'll spend the morning showing him why.

Clever clogs.

If the shoe fits.

Oh, it's the dynamic Alps, by the way.

Right?

It's the dynamic Alps, my love.

Of the car pavions.

As I said.

Clever clogs.

Book.

Finished with that mug surgery.

Bagged and labelled, sir.

We'll return it in due course.

Take a seat.

Are you going to charge me?

Oh, there's plenty of time for that.

I've said it all already.

It's in my statement.

Oh.

Just one thing before we start.

Mr. Book here will be joining us.

He's a specialist.

Mr. Ghazili, it's very important that you use this interview to tell us the truth.

Because if you don't, I can't be held accountable for the consequences.

We know about your affair with Edie Rattle.

She's given us a statement.

And in doing so, I was given us a possible motive.

A reason for you to kill Captain Orr.

Because he made a pass at Edie.

It must happen like three times a day.

What business are you in exactly?

The antiquarian book business.

I've read the canoon of Scutari, have you?

I know it.

Live by it?

It's very important in my village.

Let's start then.

If I said we were going to give you the third degree, what would you expect?

Kicking out by the bins.

Snake in the grass.

What did you say?

I get the third degree.

Snake in the grass.

Come on, I'm waiting.

Vodka.

At last.

Creme de mint, lime juice, lemonade.

Where's my ice?

It went in first.

Are you shaking this drink?

Come on, come on, Mr. Gazili.

This is the wall singer.

Am I you shaking this drink?

I'm stirring it.

I'm stirring it.

And a boy.

At a boy.

I know that.

French removed, dried gin, grenadine, four dashes.

Shaken.

And what would you put in a pansy?

And you said?

No, no, no, no, Mr. Gazili.

Look, I'm still on probation.

I'm not an expert.

I'd say I'm not.

But nor are you a murderer.

Well, what, what makes you say that?

Because he left a dirty great fingerprint on the upper part of one of those glasses.

And a good cocked hell waiter, as well as knowing how

to mix a third degree, always handles a rock glass.

Lower down.

You made the drink for the captain, which is

when you left your fingerprint on his glass.

But the drink was not deadly.

I'm sorry if this sounds insulting, Mr. Gazili.

But you have yet to acquire the skill to

poison anyone in a crowded bar in plain sight.

Particularly with just a few seconds between the inciting incident and the crime.

I'm sure you'll get there.

In fact, I guess as far as to say, you're already a model employee.

You're going to write me a reference now, are you?

Why not?

How long have the princesses been in the hotel?

Four days.

And you'd already noticed they always reject the first drink.

So you made it out of tap water.

Yes, some employers would promote a member of staff so concerned about wastage.

Well, Mr. Gazili.

Seems like you can go and collect your things.

Our friend is checking out.

Sergeant Bois.

Very good, sir.

Well, now what?

Anyone could have got that hydrochloric acid into the drink.

And Gazili was too clumsy to have done it.

As I discovered late last night, the Kanunu

Scotari has very strict rules about hospitality.

It's taboo to harm anyone you consider your guest.

Captain Orr was Gazili's guest, strictly speaking, and the Kanunu's very strict.

Did it tell you anything else useful?

Oh, yes.

Insult my wife in front of the headman of the village and you owe me a sheep.

If my wife insults you, I owe you five.

Well, I find it's usually best if people are doing something nice to each other.

Ooh.

You were not in the army, were you?

You know where I was.

Well, no matter.

Straight in your spine, perhaps?

Eh, the palace, a line of soldiers with salutas just on our way into breakfast.

Oh, look at you.

Had an idea falling.

And back then, we weren't always looking over our shoulders.

We were at home with our own people.

You, boy.

You must fetch the inspector.

Well, what's happened?

Another threatening letter.

We have done all right.

They ordered in?

No less than I deserve.

Sure enough?

Ball can mix, apparently.

Nice.

See those little go rings at the end there?

I'll cap stand by myself.

Weren't you supposed to bring me for that ball, bro?

Well, for you had everything you needed here.

It's a bit rich for my blood.

So where was Miss Edie Rattle when the murder took place?

I have an award by now, sorry, according to a statement.

Having already administered the poison?

Meant for the princesses.

According to my intelligence sources, she's a fully paid up party member.

Communist.

Red is Lenin's combinations.

So she might want to do that?

On behalf of the new ruling class of Scotari.

Then there's the other sister, of course.

Other sister?

Oh, yes.

There are three of them, Inspector.

Three sisters.

The kingdom divided.

Exile monarchs, I wonder.

Anyway, Princess Cindy, he went over to the other side.

So it could be her striping up over the work was by assassinating the siblings.

This is where we should be looking.

In my opinion.

Sorry.

Oh, yes.

You like the ladies, didn't they?

Captain, or?

It's not how I would have put it.

Still.

At least we have his home number now.

No, no.

Yes, this must be his wife, Sylvia.

But you know, she's the only one without a star rating.

Yeah, well, there's another familiar name in there, too.

Oh.

As you say, sir.

Oh.

And Barbara Reaney, second of May 1940, has got race calls.

Four stars, passionate Italians have crossed out.

Still legible.

What's it mean?

Obvious, isn't it?

Captain Ord didn't just like the ladies.

He was a bit queer.

Oh.

You mean?

He travelled, as it were, on the 38th bus and the 43th.

He met that Italian barman at the races and had relations.

It's all there in black and white.

What are the races there?

I've got race calls.

There is entry after entry.

A motive?

Blackmail.

Obviously.

Captain Ord threatened to expose Barbara Reaney.

Captain Ord's a married man.

It's all a bit...

It's a bit far-fetched.

You never know with married men, sir.

We'll see your great theory then.

Then we're telling Sergeant.

But speaking of Mrs. Orr, I do think someone should talk to her soon.

I'll ask Trotty, if I may.

My wife's always know.

Whatever husbands think.

A message from that lad, Jack, sir.

Princesses are requesting another audience.

A Winston Churchill mask?

No.

An Oria flying helmet.

A picky lily jar filled entirely with toenail clippings.

Oh.

Yeah.

It's not for the faint of heart the life of a chamber made.

But my dad ran a pub in Bala, so... I've seen it all.

And what about the murder?

I know.

I was outside, you see.

You can't pin Victor or me.

I wasn't trying to, honest.

Pity, I wasn't there though.

I would have liked to see that one go down.

She was saying.

You got out of the clink.

And then you went to work in a book shop.

Yeah.

For Mr. Book.

Yeah.

And now you're working for this guitarie royal family.

Not for much longer, I don't reckon.

Aunt March cop is a bodyguard.

Got anything by Marx?

Hey.

In your book shop.

That's Capitale.

Volume four.

Now you're talking.

So why'd you leave?

I just don't think they're my sort of people.

No.

It takes all sorts, you know.

As I say.

The things I've seen in the wilds, you know?

Maybe it's time you expanded your horizons a bit sunshine.

Let me know if you fancy that far for all some time, yeah?

So called Princesses.

My gourd rises, as I see you in the newspaper.

Decadent bones draped in Madame de Bavier.

Which will soon drip with your filthy blood.

Yes, I can see why my field is comforted.

So, what will you do about it?

My dear lady...

You will address me by my proper title.

Do forgive the inspector, your Royal Highness.

The policeman is often a blunt tool rather than a diplomat.

Perhaps I might... As I have said, this is the latest of many.

Dripping with venom.

Our enemies, they're a legion.

Can they not let us rest?

Is it not enough that we are forced to drag our weary bones around the world?

Like phantoms, you speak of the canoon of hospitality.

But what are we to make of yours?

What welcome do we receive in your famous London?

Wretched food, wretched cold, a bodyguard who fails to guard.

And now, this.

I'll do what I can, given my limited resources.

Yes, of course, and we're terribly sorry.

Well, if that's the best you can do...

Oh, Miss Raffle.

Yes, Mr. Kind.

I heard about the unfortunate incident.

That's one way of describing it.

I'm okay, but I think I might indulge myself a bit more in the cream of society.

As I've been fired, I can use the hotel as a guest instead.

Meaning?

There are all highnesses.

I'm to put everything in their account.

I don't spend too much.

What?

Nothing.

Miss Raffle?

Yes.

Would you kindly come and see me after you've indulged yourself?

Okay, Mr. Kind.

Idi, can we talk?

I don't want to apologize for the quality of the service today.

The heating is off, the menu is called, and deeply sorry.

Ismail, none of that is your fault.

Yeah, I'm afraid it is.

It was caused by the three bottles of linseed oil that I stole from your cupboard.

But linseed oil is for polishing.

I use it for my needle posts and my dados.

Yes, I know.

But I put it into the generator.

I didn't poison Victor or Idi, but I did poison the hotel.

I was so angry with myself, with that man, with this place.

So I just thought I'd kill it.

I'm deeply sorry.

I shall confess everything to Mr. Kind, and you will not lose your job, Idi.

You.

Me.

This isn't easy for me, as I'm sure you can imagine.

Of course, you've just lost your husband.

That boat sailed a long time ago, Mrs. Book.

And you're not the first of Victor's conquests to telephone.

If it makes it any easier, he didn't.

Didn't what?

Conquer.

I used to come here all the time, you know, to watch him with the latest model.

Madam?

You've read it.

Does he want self-hear assessed, like, livestock?

You think he got what he deserved?

Well, not quite, but... I mean, what a peak he was.

Do you know, I think better of him than it was a rail diary.

Something with a bit of proper adulterers passion.

Don't worry, my dear, I didn't really blame you.

I mean, Victor had charm to spare, in his day.

And I grew used to his adventures.

Nuntan.

Too used to them, he became a sort of hobby.

That sounds strange.

My marriage grew cold, and my life grew cold.

I don't really think I've felt anything since Doug Kirk.

So I'd come here.

Whether was light and laughter.

Usually.

Did you not worry that he might see you?

Victor hadn't noticed me in years.

There was no reason to think he'd start now.

Is that how you were able to?

What?

The poison.

I mean, you were there.

You handed me that cloth.

It would have been easy for you to admit straight.

I didn't kill my husband, Mrs. Booger.

A pity Victor didn't despise him.

And who did?

How is this war?

He did his service in Caro.

And his stint in the Balkans.

The Balkans.

And before that he was here.

The home front.

Whereabouts?

Ascot.

Ah, it is you.

Would it be... What does that say?

Death to parasite.

Thank you for coming.

Everything's off.

Kippers, kidneys, kegery, and the radiators.

They're definitely off.

There's a selection of cold meat.

Splendid.

Well, two of those then, please wait and to make sure they're properly cold.

I have horror and consistency.

Sir?

The service.

It is appalling.

Well, call me Mary Antoinette, but I was expecting the lavishes to flush.

Still, the heating did come on for half an hour.

That was nice.

You said it was urgent, Mr. Boog.

In a way, yes.

Now, are you any closer?

Closer.

To finding out who tried to murder us?

No one tried to murder you.

But the letters.

The threads.

You said those.

What?

You're mad.

How dare you?

Do sit down, Princess.

The very idea that I... I said sit down.

It may be more of a diplomat than the inspector.

There's only so much of this exhausting or tour I can stand.

When did you start?

Sending the letters.

Not right away, I imagine.

For a while it was real.

When we fled our country, there were eyes everywhere.

We feared to eat or drink.

We lived day by day, shoved into stinking cellars.

The holds of filthy ships.

But the threat was real, Mr. Boog.

In New York, we were fated.

They love royalty.

They're as you know precisely because they have none of their own.

We were invited to all the right parties, met all the right people.

But there is nothing more tragic than exile, Mr. Boog.

And nothing more pathetic.

After a time, the invitations dried up, the parade moved on, and I realized that

we had gone from being in danger to something far, far worse.

We had become irrelevant.

What did the new regime in Scutari have to fear from us?

Why would they send assassins halfway across the globe to make away with us?

Why would anyone bother?

But there is glamour in death, in danger.

And so I began to write all those letters, both to us, and to the authorities of

whichever poor nation we were imposing ourselves upon.

I pay a woman here, a modest fee, to scout

around the hotel, dropping them off now and then.

Sam suspected your other sister might be behind those.

She's dead, Mr. Boog.

I saw her shot in the face.

The communists never really trusted her.

And I will not lose another sister.

But then there was an actual poisoning.

I didn't know what to think.

The figures wrapped the glasses as always, and then that man, that captain,

lying dead at her feet.

My mind, it raced.

Had it all become real?

But what else could I do but continuous planned?

Very well done.

Thank you.

Alas though, the impression of your sister's pen nibs is very distinctive.

Indeed?

Music nib.

Narrow damstrokes, broad crossstrokes for writing musical notation.

And she's composing those rather sad and lovely tunes of hers.

And the references to your wardrobe too, rather

specific for a desperate communist assassin.

I couldn't help myself.

So does this mean then that... Captain Orr was the intended victim.

So I have to ask, Mr. Book, in the spirit of your British stories, who done it?

Well, that is the question, dear lady.

I'm normally a fan of this sort of thing, reddened

under the kind of thriller one finds in W.H.

Smith.

However, sometimes it really is best to gather everyone together, unity of place,

and all that.

So, on the night of the murder, Mr. Gazeali here set up a first round of two drinks.

Yes.

Which is rejected by the princesses and goes down the sink.

Now we come to the Bruhaha.

And a new character enters our drama, Captain Victor Orr, kindly represented

here by Mr. Kind.

In you come, Miss Rattle.

Tell us what happened next.

Well, there's Captain Watson soaked in tapeter, and he's telling me he has some

extra duties for me, which seemed to involve me

going to his room and leaving with some money.

So I decline, of course, and I'm looking over at his mail.

I'm looking at him because, well, I think he might help me.

I do the decent.

And he doesn't.

What happens next, Edie?

Well, I'm thinking, does the captain gonna hit me?

So I tell him where to get off.

And then he says something.

I know some thread or other.

I wasn't listening.

And that's when Jack here came to my rescue.

And then I went outside for a smoke.

Thank you, Miss Rattle.

So, Mr. Gazili then sets up two more glasses for a new round.

Four waltzingum sours.

In total.

Three good ones and one, as we shall see, about to have an extra ingredient.

But when precisely did one of these drinks get a dash of hydrochloric acid?

Princess Nefie, who told us that you switched two of these glasses around,

which two?

Like this, Mr. Book, one of ours.

Four, one of theirs.

Very good.

You're not drinking yet, are you?

Because you want to see someone else drink first.

Which is only prudent, only sensible, when there are so many assassins about.

So, you have to wait a little while longer until the distraction is over.

And this is the Russian roulette moment, now is it?

This was not a casual murder.

I was very carefully thought through.

Now we know the poison was not in Mr. Gazili's shaker.

We know that Princess Nefie deserves no reproaches.

All your royal highness did was switch one perfectly

safe and effective waltzingum sours for another.

In fact, I would suggest that none of these drinks would have produced anything

worse than a hangover, until the incident would be coins.

That was the moment of opportunity for someone here to poison one of these cocktails.

The one that he was clearly about to pick up.

Yes, there was no mistake.

Captain Orr, have to die.

Why them?

Do you remember the Arendorra star?

Not our finest hour, Lefie.

She was torpedoed by the cherries.

Stored at the wall.

July 2nd, 1940.

There was a set to onboard, wasn't there?

A lot of internees being sent to Australia.

Canada.

Canada.

Fighting amongst themselves.

Well, that's what it said in the Daily Express.

In Parliament 2, Mr. Book, does it mean it's true?

Indeed.

And amongst the passengers...

Your sister, Maria.

Barbarini.

M.

12th January 1940, Ascot Race Course.

16th January, Ascot Race Course.

So it was her captain or met at the races.

Well, there wasn't a racing during the war.

Quite.

Course, Ascot's, where they put the Regulation 18b, wasn't it?

English Nazis, German Antinartes, ice cream men, spaghetti house vendors,

waiters who'd once said something vaguely complimentary

about the Cataville Duce's jib, all put under barbed wire.

A tournament camp.

What was the case against the Barbarini's there?

My parents were born in Italy.

So someone here claimed I was a fascist,

marched me out during service, sent up North.

Nobody protested.

Particularly the man who ran the bar rear in the Blitz.

And your sister?

In 1938, my father said, why not spend someone with your Italian arm?

Go to beach with them, to the Campo Solare.

Little fires.

They're some fresh air.

They give you a nice little uniform, like

the Girl Guides, but Mussolini's Girl Guides.

So she brought the uniform home as a souvenir?

It was enough for the man from 18b.

There it was in a wardrobe, sir.

Oh, she went to Ascot.

She was in turn because of the uniform.

People do take them terribly seriously.

When it worked for Victor, when he was in his sailor suit, people did what he said.

I mean, it was charm, as well as rank, rank charm.

That's how he got Maria's name on the list for Canada.

Perhaps we should be generous.

Imagine that he was getting around to the camp to a new life away from the wall.

He just wanted to trouble some love around the way before his wife found out.

And that ship was a death trap.

A dream about that.

Most people pushing at the barricade.

Great wooden exes wrapped in barbed wire.

And then the sea coming in and drowning them both.

Both.

Maria and the baby.

His baby.

I knew his name.

That was all.

But I couldn't find him.

Mess of the war.

Turn everything upside down.

I was in a great hurry to help out an insignificant whoop waiter.

Turn out I've been serving him once in themselves for months.

Victor or my old friend, I can't leave you alone for five minutes.

Can I?

Bloody girl can't take a joke.

Let's have a clever look at those.

What do you call them?

All sing themselves with the two ladies.

For their royal highnesses.

You mean?

These are on me ladies.

The man who took away my precious Maria.

My beloved sister.

So what did what had to be done?

I prepared ice.

Special ice.

So?

Oh dear.

So embarrassing.

I do apologize.

So tough.

Look after the pennies.

Pounds will look after themselves.

It was

a birthday.

See?

Maria's birthday would have been.

Seemed down.

Seemed fitting.

Yes.

Yes.

Must have done.

Yeah.

And I took the precaution of keeping some of the poison dice.

Tinky-tonk.

Wait!

No!

That's the ordinary ice at last.

I'm afraid I swapped it.

I'm so very, very sorry about your sister.

It's in your bubble, isn't it?

But murder is murder.

Marco Barberini, I'm arresting you on a charge of murder.

You do not have to say anything but anything.

You do say maybe take him down.

I'm used against you in a court of law.

Do you have anything to say?

Oh, by the way, Mr. Kind.

The linseed oil in the generators.

That was me too.

Sorry.

Mr. Kind, you wanted a word?

Hi, yes, Ms. Racco.

I was thinking about your position here.

Well, now I know that you are not responsible for the incident with the generators.

Yes.

Well, your dismissal was unnecessarily expeditious.

Yes.

Yes.

And I wanted to say I would very much like to offer that position back to you.

Well, I accept.

That's all very satisfactory.

There's a ledger here, isn't there?

A ledger.

One with all the comings and goings of the staff.

Might I see my entry?

It's over there.

Yes, of course.

Thank you.

There I am.

Edith Racco, reason for leaving Sabotage.

Well, as a strike that front door I caught.

Thank you, Mr. Kind.

Now, Mr. Kind, I resign.

He resign?

Yes, I resign.

Would you mind putting that in there for me?

He got resigned.

I believe I just did.

Oh, the workers.

Oh, the workers!

Oh, this is quite correct.

Tomorrow, please.

For those people.

Oh.

Messing the war, are you?

I don't know what the etiquette is.

Oh, I think that's the war in summons.

Well, that's... For you, Mr. Book.

For the book.

Oh, thank you.

What's that for?

A hundred ginnies.

No, I mean, what's it for?

Oh, our copy of the canoe nous kutari.

And our trade, it pays to specialise.

Give a bounce.

Well, if it doesn't, I shall give it to the Addendora Star Memorial Fund.

Please enjoy.

Thank you.

What should we drink?

To us.

To the Babarinis.

Yes.

To Marco and Maria and... All the Babarinis.

A loss to the defeated.

All the Babarinis.

Babarinis.

Those who bear the name and those who do not.

And let there be no more drownings.

He got me the job.

Mr. Book.

We arranged for you to take me home.

The princesses were looking for a bodyguard.

Gary Real asked if I could help.

So you see, he was looking out for you.

Despite your falling out.

You know him well.

We go a long way back.

Looking out for me.

Or manipulating me.

Well, why would you think of it like that?

He sought me out.

Found me when I come out of prison.

Set me up.

Nice job.

Nice home.

Yes.

Why?

You'd have to ask him that.

And amongst her.

Mr. Kind.

I'm grateful.

Of course I am.

It's just...

It's a lot, you know.

They're set up.

The way they are, Mr. and Mrs. Book.

The way he is.

It's hard for me to just accept it.

You have a moral objection?

Me.

Right, do I have to moralise?

I think you've answered your own question.

Book is kind.

I mean, I know.

I'm kind.

Edmund Kind.

But I once knew a girl called Joy and she was anything but...

There's no sinister motive, Jack.

They want to help.

Why don't you let them?

With you and Jasmine moment.

Hello again.

Oh, this is Goodwin.

Jean.

After more of the same.

The Pimpinil.

I'm not really sure.

I think I fancy something a little different.

The husband up with you?

No.

The golf course.

No.

The Garic.

The divorce courts.

Oh.

Oh.

That play you gave me.

A doll's house.

Most illuminating.

Unlike you suggested it rather made me think.

Yes, I thought it might do.

Made me realise how narrow my horizons have become or other.

How narrow, Gerald have made my horizons.

Life doesn't always last forever unless.

I never loved him.

Awful man.

But that's all in the past now.

Or in the hands of my solicitor anyway.

So, what can I do for you then, Jean?

What have you got on travel?

Travel?

Lots of it.

Heaps of it.

Exotic travel.

I think it's time I saw a bit of the world.

I've got just the thing.

I'll leave you in just one moment, sir.

Thanks.

I know you run on it.

Without tea, I immediately... Unre constituted dust.

It's hard to let go of the past, Mr. Book, when you have so many questions about it.

Does that just happen?

No.

If it wasn't for you and Trotty, I'd be...

Well... I'd be sleeping on the embankment.

But now I have a position.

If it's still available.

There are all highnesses who let you go.

I'll quit.

Good for you.

Yes, the job's still yours.

So, I've got a position.

A cozy little room.

I have a bookshop on Archangel Lane.

I'm thinking...

Why me?

Your father gave me this.

The last time I saw him, 1935.

I've asked Tom.

He died.

Soon after.

I couldn't face looking at this book for years.

And then the war came and I was busy.

Around the busy.

Only a few months ago that I picked it up again.

Dead to pick it up.

And I found those a little more to it than I thought.

What'd you mean?

Oh, somewhere me unconscious dove.

But sitest, ranging golden hair.

And glad to find myself so fair.

Poor child.

But waitest for thy love.

He's trying to tell me, you see, about you.

By the son I never knew he had.

I'd been taken around when you were conceived.

Felix.

Felix.

I'll never add his name.

Just that.

Just that one picture.

Your father was a German.

German.

Prussian.

In point of fact.

And what was he to you, Mr. Book?

Always feelings to me.

He was everything, Jack.

He was what the war took away.

He was the whole damn world.

Did he die?

Shall we find out?