All language subtitles for Foyles War S08E03 Sunflower 1080p AMZN WEB-DL DDP2 0 x264-NTb[EZTVx.to]

Rembrandt died on the 4th of
October 1669.

And in his last self-portraits,

I think you see a sense of calm,
and of resignation.

He had known so much turmoil

and personal unhappiness,

but at the end, he found an
acceptance.

It was, perhaps, a triumph of
art over life.

Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.

We will be visiting Kenwood
House on Tuesday.

There are still places left.

So, please, let me know if you
wish to come.

Professor Van Haaren.

My dissertation... I was
wondering if --

The portrait of Jan Six?

Yes.

I'm halfway. Some interesting
insights.

We will talk next week.

Thank you.

No. No.

No. No. No.

Uh!

You all right?

Come on. You all right?

How are you?

I'm fine.

No bones broken.

Are you sure, really?

Thank you.

All right. Take it easy.

-Thank you. -Sorry.

Come in, Foyle.

I'm in a quandary.

I don't much like it,

and I doubt you will either, but
I inherited it,

and there's not much I can do
about it.

It needs tact.

Pieter Van Haaren.

Dutch, educated at the
University of Leiden.

Expert on Dutch art,

particularly Rubens and
Rembrandt,

now a lecturer in London.

That's the cover.

And the reality?

Karl Strasser. Nazi.

SS Brigadefuhrer Karl Strasser

was a desk soldier in SS Foreign
Intelligence.

Arrested in Denmark at the end
of the war.

Since then, he's been

an extremely valuable
intelligence asset

with an almost unrivalled
knowledge

of Soviet spy networks.

It's in the file.

Mm-hmm.

He believes

that he's in danger.

Says someone is planning

to kill him.

Well, as a Nazi officer in
Postwar Britain,

is he surprised?

Up to now, his cover's held.

He lives in a boarding house,
privately owned

but controlled by us.

In fact, his entire life is
carefully regulated.

But he keeps his head down. and
as far as we can tell,

no one even suspects that he's
German.

So?

Read the file. Meet him.

Assess the situation, let me
know what you think.

It would be annoying

to have to move him and change
his name,

but if there really is any
danger,

we can't afford to lose him.

I see.

And don't let your personal
feelings

get in the way.

He was, after all, a senior
German officer --

you may not like him.

You may be right.

Indeed.

Unfortunately, we need him.

They're smoking fags.

They're rude.

Half of them don't even go to
school,

and nobody's doing anything
about it.

Well, that's -- that's not quite
true, Mrs. Jones.

We've looked into this,

and the report by Dame Myra
Curtis

will be published very soon.

It's all very well you having
reports.

But I don't feel safe going out
of the house.

Well, I'll talk to the police
and we'll see if we can get

some more officers on the beat.

The trouble is, nobody has any
respect anymore.

Well, I'll see what I can do.

This way, Mrs. Jones.

Thank you, dear.

Can we talk to the
superintendent?

I'll make a note of it, sir, but
she was complaining

about the police last week, so,
uh...

-Is there anyone else? -One
more.

He's not a constituent, though,
so you don't have to see him.

Geoffrey Helliwell. He's come up
from Devizes.

Wiltshire?

I know. Bit of a hike.

Well, show him in.

Mr. Helliwell,

has somebody offered you some
tea?

I don't want tea,
thank you all the same.

Then how can I help you?

I want back what is mine.

There was a compulsory purchase
order in 1938.

The farmhouse, the land, the
whole works.

The RAF needed it -- 1,000 acres
for bombing practice.

Well, it was the war.

I didn't argue. I was glad to do
my bit.

But I made it very clear.

It was only for the duration,
then I'd buy it back.

That's what we agreed!

I wrote to you, Mr. Helliwell.

As I understand it, the land had
risen in value.

Doubled in value! In eight
years?!

That's not possible!

There must have been an
independent valuation!

Just how independent was it?!
That's what I want to know!

Your minister, Mr. Roper, won't
tell me!

Why is he hiding behind you?!

You need to understand,

this is a local surgery for
issues

relating to West Peckham.

That's what they all say! Not my
business!

Mr. Helliwell. Where are you
staying?

Kensington.

Maythorpe Hotel.

I'll talk to Mr. Roper.

I'm sure it's more
straightforward than you think.

You lot think you can get away
with this, but let me tell you,

I know there's something dirty
going on.

I can smell it!

Well, thank you very much,
Mrs. Wainwright,

and I'll see you next Wednesday.

We'll have the results of your
tests by then.

And in the meantime, you look
after yourself.

Thank you, Doctor.

-Miss Browne? -Hello,
Doctor.

Hello.

How was it?

I'm sorry?

The dentist.

Yes. Absolutely fine, sir.

All in order.

Good.

How's Adam?

Busy.

Enjoying it?

Well, he is.

Truth is, I hardly see him

now that he's become a private
secretary.

I always used to tell him about
my work.

These days, I feel if I open my
mouth,

and I'll be arrested.

Well, he'd understand that,
wouldn't he?

He doesn't even notice.

He's got the minister, his party
manager, constituents.

He hardly has any time left for
me.

So, what is this place?

A nest of spies?

Yep. But they're our
spies.

Well, that's all right,
then.

Yes?

Good morning.

I'm looking for a Professor Van
Haaren.

He's not here.

If you want to see the
professor,

you should come back when the
library's closed.

I see.

Yes. He likes his books,

the professor.

Old paintings and painters.

Can't see the fascination
myself.

Who shall I say called?

My name's Foyle.

He can reach me any time on this
number.

And what's this about?

It's just that he doesn't

get that many visitors, Herr Van
Haaren.

Likes to keep himself to
himself.

Know what I mean?

You'll find he's
expecting me.

Right.

How many people live here?

Three tenants. Three rooms.

If you're looking for somewhere,
I'm afraid you're out of luck.

No, no. Just wondering.

Just nosey.

I don't mean to be rude,

but we're not very sociable
here.

It's just the way we are.

Do tell him I called.

If I see him, I'll let him know.

Professor Van Haaren?

I bet that's not his real name.

Why do you say that?

I don't know.

I suppose I don't trust anyone
anymore.

Does that include me?

You and Adam are about the only
people I do trust.

Did you notice there was someone
watching you?

What was all that?

He said his name was Foyle.

I know. I heard.

What does he want?

This phone number's Leconfield
House.

I wonder if they know.

Know what?

About you and the professor.

How would they know about that?

Unless you told them.

PARRY-I'm on your side,
Brenda.

Let's face it. We both want the
same thing.

And what's that?

We want him dead.

Mutinies?

They're not mutinies, they're
strikes!

You can't go shooting members of
the Royal Air Force.

The grievance is real!

Thank you, Adam.

Is there anything else? I've got
a briefing.

Actually, minister, there is one
thing.

I had a visit at my surgery from
a Geoffrey Helliwell.

Helliwell?

-Helliwell. -From Devizes.

The man with the land.

Without the land -- he wants it
back.

What's this?

To sign.

I had a look at the original
contract.

The agreement to buy back was at
the current market value.

It's what was agreed, and it was
assessed

by the local district valuer.

George Gibson.

You've been into the files?

I thought I should take a
look.

-You don't mind? -No, not at
all.

You can go round to his hotel
and buy him a drink if you like.

You'll be wasting your time.

The land isn't with this
department anymore.

It was transferred to Ag and
Fish.

Could we do that?

Absolutely.

And right now, maximizing food
production

is this country's number one
priority.

Practically an emergency, you
know?

I don't need to tell you that.

Yes, sir. Sorry.

Do you want me to write to him?

No, minister.

I'm sorry. There's really no
need.

Right, in that case, concentrate
on these strikes.

The fact is, I'm inclined to
sympathize.

We really should be bringing
back these pilots and aircrew

from Karachi and Delhi now
before this whole thing blows up

in our faces.

I'm a lone voice, of course.

-Adam. -Problems, sir?

All right, mate?

So, you
pulled Strasser.

Bad luck. Do you know him?

Not really. No.

You should talk to Miss Pierce.

He was one of hers.

Well, doesn't surprise me.

He helped break up Red Five.

And what's that?

Oh, it's a Soviet network
operating mainly out of Sweden,

but it had its supporters here.

I can pull out some files for
you if you like.

Thank you. Did you ever meet
him?

I was in the same
room but we didn't speak.

He was a big noise

in the counterintelligence
service

of the Sicherheitsdienst.

Formidable knowledge of Soviet
spy technique.

I didn't like him.

I found him arrogant. Well, they
all are.

And no active service?

Apparently not. Spent the war
behind a desk.

Saw which way the wind was
blowing,

then hotfooted it up to
Copenhagen,

just before Jerry packed it in.

Have you met him yet?

I've met his landlady.

Oh. Brenda Stevens.

She used to work here on the
switchboard.

She inherited the house from her
mother.

She keeps an eye

on some of the waifs and strays
from SOE.

She's useful.

There's such a shortage of rooms
in London.

Does she know who he really is?

Well, none of them do.

Thank you.

May I?

How did you find me?

I telephoned the hotel and they
told me what had happened.

Then I spoke to the police.

They say it was straightforward
robbery with violence.

They took my wallet with L10.

And my watch.

You think differently?

Well, it's quite a coincidence,
wouldn't you say?

I come down complaining to you,

and the next thing I know, I'm
in here.

Mr. Helliwell, if I may say so,
that is a ridiculous assertion.

Is it?

Apart from anything else,

I didn't tell anyone where you
were staying.

That's what you say.

Here's my telephone number.

If there's anything I can do for
you --

You'll be the first person I'll
call.

How is he?

Well, he's a bit shaken
up.

I'm sure.

It's terrible.

Did he have anything to say?

He wasn't too pleased to see me.

You don't think there's anything
dodgy going on, do you?

I don't know, Sam.

Charles Roper's a good man.

I've never met anyone more
dedicated to his work.

He's been very kind to me.

But?

Well...he can't have had
anything to do with this.

But the land doubling in value?

It just -- it just doesn't make
any sense.

Farmland, food.

That could be worth quite a bit,
couldn't it?

I suppose so.

You said there was a local land
valuer.

George Gibson. But he's
left Devizes.

I wouldn't know where to start.

I could help you find him.

Goes with the job.

I can find out anything about
anybody.

I could even find out about you.

And what secrets do you think

I'm keeping from you, Mrs.
Wainwright?

Seriously.

Adam, if you're thinking it
wasn't just a robbery...

Quick, quick.

Boys, no running!

Miss Watkins.

Mr. Nelson. It's good
to see you.

Mr. Wilson is back.

And Mr. Hennessey. You remember
him?

Of course.

His production of "Julius
Caesar" was 2A.

Very ambitious.

Is that a sweet in your mouth,
Simmonds?!

Yes, Miss Watkins.

Spit it out, please,

and put it into a handkerchief.

You know the rules.

Yes, Miss Watkins.

Here we are.

It's good to have you
back again, Nelson.

1C hasn't been the same without
you.

Thank you, Headmaster.

When did you get back?

Uh, it's -- it's been a year
now, sir.

It's...

Uh, 15 months.

But I -- I wasn't well.

Wounded?

Yes.

Yes, quite...

Quite badly.

Uh, September of '44.

In -- in France.

You're looking

very fit.

Oh, they managed to patch me up.

But it's, um...

It's still been, um...slow.

Yes, well, I can
understand.

And you're, uh --

you're still living with your
sister?

Yes.

She's, uh -- she's putting me
up.

She -- she was the one who --
who told me to write.

We'd be very happy to welcome
you back to Hillstead.

As it happens,

there might be a position for a
junior French master.

And music, of course.

You still play?

Uh, sometimes.

Quite a number of the
staff

delayed their retirement

for the duration of the war.

Are you all right?

Yeah, I just, uh, get...

uh...

Headaches now -- now and then.

Maybe it would be better if you
had a little more rest

before you return to the fray,
hmm?

Shall we, uh...

shall we leave it at that?

Yes, Headmaster.

Mr. Foyle?

I've just had a call from
Professor Van Haaren.

He asked if you might meet with
him this evening

at the university library after
his lecture.

What did you say?

I said you'd be there.

I would have asked Mrs.
Wainwright,

but she seems to have left
early.

What time this evening?

7:00.

All right.

Mr. Foyle?

Yes.

I am so glad to meet you.

Please.

Jan Six.

The son of a merchant.

A magistrate.

The mayor of Amsterdam.

And yet immortalized by this
portrait painted in 1654.

You are familiar with the works
of Rembrandt?

Not part of my brief.

I am sure this is not
easy for you.

It is not easy for me either to
ask you for help --

for protection.

I understand that's what you
want.

I am aware that I have few
friends here,

but given that I have been of
service to you,

surely it is not too much to ask
that you should consider

whether I am safe.

Well, apparently, that's why I'm
here.

You have read my file?

Yes.

I studied art history in
Hamburg.

And law.

Very good.

And joined the SS in '33.

Yes.

I saw the way the wind was
blowing, Mr. Foyle.

Perhaps that has been true of my
whole life.

The book burning, the
persecution,

the Volksgericht -- people's
court.

I make no apology.

I had to survive.

First counterintelligence,

later in the Reich's Main
Security Office.

You would have been too old

to fight, I imagine.

But perhaps you had a son.

Have you been threatened?

Not threatened. Not yet.

Protection from what,
then?

I have become aware of a man who
has been following me.

I cannot describe him to you,

for he has always been too far
away,

and he disappears the moment I
turn around.

But I have seen him four or five
times.

How do you know it's the same
man?

There is something about his
gait, the way he stands.

-Is he in uniform? -No.

A suit. Mufti, I believe, is the
correct word.

-And he's not approached you?
-No.

But in the last week, there have
been telephone calls

at the hostel and here at the
library.

When I answer, there is silence
at the other end.

And then, two days ago...

Delivered to the hostel.

It is live.

Well, this is standard issue,
which is perhaps not a surprise.

Obviously, someone has
recognized you.

He makes his point very clear.

Well, presumably there's a gun
to go with the bullet.

I wonder why he hasn't used it.

It would seem to, um, have saved
a lot of trouble.

Perhaps, I have not given him
the opportunity.

How do you get from here to the
hostel?

Sometimes I walk. Sometimes I
drive.

So, what will you do?

Well, there doesn't appear to be
very much I can do.

I mean, it might be best if you
were to move,

or change your name, maybe?

That would be inconvenient. That
would be impossible.

What do you suggest?

Find this man.

Arrest him if you must.

Find out what it is that he has
against me.

I'll see what I can do.

Is that all?

For the moment, yes.

Sir Alec.

Lieutenant General Hoyt Jackson,

Army Navy Communications
Intelligence Board.

I think you know Ray Donovan
from the embassy.

-Yes. We have met. -Good to see
you, Miss Pierce.

How can we help you gentlemen?

I'll get straight to
the point, Sir Alec.

Karl Strasser.

SS Brigadefuhrer Karl Strasser.

Our Department of Justice wants
him.

Miss Pierce?

I can't say I'm familiar with
the name.

Then let me refresh your memory.

You picked him up in Roskilde in
June last year

and spirited him back to
England.

You spent a year interrogating
him, and since then,

you've been using him for
intelligence.

He may be in London.

I don't know. But you do.

And I'd be very grateful

if you could expedite

an interview with him at the
earliest opportunity.

As I'm sure both you gentlemen
are aware,

I was not part of this
organization last June.

With respect, sir, you
are now.

And I'm sure you were given a
full assessment

of the situation.

Of course, it's always possible

he could be using another name.

But if that were the case,

one of you would have given him
that name.

I'll look into it.

Sir Alec, you haven't even asked
why we want Strasser.

Do I need to know?

-Well, sir -- -I did not think
so.

He's in charge. She pulls the
strings.

-Hard as nails. -A bitch.

I have to say that I am very
unhappy with this situation,

Miss Pierce.

I dislike having to lie.

-To them? -To anyone.

You say my predecessor went
along with this arrangement?

Professor Van Haaren is very
useful to us, Sir Alec.

He'd better be.

Oh. It's you.

You're up late, Mr. Parry-Jones.

I can't sleep. I never bloody
sleep.

I wonder why.

Somebody broke into my room

while I was in the library with
you.

It was on my bed.

Any significance to this?

The significance is that the
door was locked,

and only I have the key.

What significance

might there be to this?

Sunflower -- it was the name

of an operation in Northern
France.

Near Moretaine.

Sonnenblume.

An attempt to hold back the
American advance.

And you were there?

It had nothing to do with the
SS.

It was planned by the OKW, the
Oberkommando der Wehrmacht.

It was in August, 1944.

There were...a great many
casualties.

American, English,

and German.

Who else

was here last night?

Mr. Parry-Jones.

He came downstairs as I arrived.

Mr. Tchorek...he's Polish,

speaks no English.

He was asleep, I believe.

And Mrs. Stevens,

she was also in the house.

Do you have

a window in your room?

Well, this, um, doesn't lock.

I am aware of that.

Easy enough to get in
here.

They still need to know the
location of my room.

And for that, they would have
been told by someone inside.

You mean, someone here?

Or someone inside your
organization, Mr. Foyle.

How well do you get on with the
other residents?

I keep myself to myself.

Yeah, probably wise.

Why do you ask me these foolish
questions, Mr. Foyle?

This is what I warned you would
happen.

First the phone calls, then the
bullet and now...

that.

Well, a flower on your bed

hardly constitutes a death
threat.

A sunflower, Mr. Foyle!

It is a provocation.

Let me assure you.

This man knows where I am.

He is telling me he can reach
me.

Next time, maybe soon, he will
make his move.

Mm-hmm.

Are you waiting for someone?

Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.

And who would that be?

Do you live here?

Board here.

I wouldn't quite call it
"living."

I recognize the car. You're with
Mr. Foyle.

I'm his driver. Yes.

Leconfield House.

Don't worry, we're on the same
side.

I don't suppose you're
interested in dinner tonight?

Yes, I am. Very interested. But
not with you, I'm afraid.

Shame.

You should have told me who you
were, Mr. Foyle.

I'd have been more helpful.

Yes, I'm sure.

So, um, heard nothing?

Any visitors last night?

I was in bed by 9:00.

Jewell and Warriss on the
wireless,

and a cup of cocoa.

That was it for me.

You'd have a key to his room,
wouldn't you?

Of course.

I hardly know Professor Van
Haaren.

I don't know anything about him.

I make it my business not to
know,

and nobody at the service tells
me anything.

And the other tenants?

Mr. Tchorek and Mr. Parry-Jones?
Same.

If you want to talk to them,
they'll be down

at the Coach and Horses on
Evelyn Street playing chess.

Have you ever been to Holland?

What's that got to do with
anything?

Have you?

My husband's Dutch.

We met in Amsterdam.

I had a job at the Metropole
Hotel,

then we came back here.

He was killed in the war.

Run over in the blackout, silly
sod.

He never saw active service.

The tenants have no idea of your
connection with us?

Of course not.

I'm just the landlady. That's
all.

If anything strange happens,

anything unusual, I report back.

Like this, for example?

That was very strange,
definitely.

Anything else?

-The nurse. -The nurse?

I put in a report two weeks ago.

A young woman came calling.

In her 20s. Blonde.

Quite a pretty girl.

She said she was looking for a
room, and I do get

quite a few people knocking at
the door.

But we got nattering and it
seemed to me

she was more interested in the
professor.

Asked about him.

Just like you.

A nurse where?

Uniform of St. Mary's.
Paddington.

Go to the hospital, see what you
can find out.

Yes, sir.

Oh. You're sure it was St.
Mary's?

I lived round the corner once.
I'd know it anywhere.

-And you'd recognize her again?
-Yes.

Would you be able to point her
out to me?

Yes.

Right.

Sir, these are the notes

for the broadcast later tonight.

Thank you.

You see, the problem is one of
perception.

Our RAF boys are out there in
India and we tell them

we can't bring them all home
just now --

they're preserving our regional
interests.

Quite.

But what they see is ships
reserved for GI brides

and ships supplying the East
Indies.

-Sir. -While they're stuck there

with malaria and dysentery and
all the rest of it.

No wonder they're angry.

Are you all right, sir?

Yes, I'm all right. I'm just...

I never thought government, at
least, if you want

to change anything, would be so
bloody complicated.

No wonder the Tories prefer the
status quo.

It's more relaxing.

You can send this. Well done.

Thank you.

Did you hear any more from that
chap Helliwell?

Uh, no, sir.

Charlotte,

I wonder if you can help me?

Typewriter jammed again?

No. I'm trying to find someone.

It's for Mr. Foyle.

He's trying to find their
whereabouts.

Who is it?

His name is George Gibson.

He was a land valuer in Devizes,
but he's moved.

That's all we know.

Well, it should be simple
enough.

You can look at the electoral
rolls, tax records, I.D. cards.

And if he's moved, then he'll
have left

a change of address with the
Post Office.

I'll check it out for you.

PARRY-Foyle.

Christopher Foyle.

I feel I know the name.

Hill House.

It was a training center. You
were there briefly.

And you were SOE?

That's right.

Baker Street with Gubbins 'til
the bitter end.

You were a policeman, I recall.

Well, that's right.

Never forget a name or a face.

Goes with the training.

But I can't help you, Mr. Foyle.

And he certainly can't.

He doesn't speak a word

of English.

Shall I tell you something
rather rum?

He was fluent once.

When I first met him -- that was
at Hill House --

he could've passed as a country
squire.

But now it's all gone.

Not a word.

What do you make of that?

It's very strange.

Yes. It does strange things to
you

being captured and tortured by
the Nazis.

As ex-SOE, would an operation
called Sunflower

mean anything to you?

Sunflower?

Well, actually, um, Sonnenblume.

It was a German operation

in Northern France a couple of
years ago.

PARRY-No. Never heard of
it.

What's the connection?

I thought you were investigating
a break-in.

Well, whoever broke in left
behind a sunflower

in the Professor's room.

A strange gift for a man
studying Rembrandt,

don't you think?

More appropriate for someone
researching Van Gogh.

Colonel Jackson.

Miss Pierce.

I was wondering if you had time
to reflect

on our last night's
conversation?

I think you should talk to Sir
Alec.

Sir Alec will do what you tell
him to do.

I think we all know that.

I can't help you.

I want Strasser. I want him
stateside.

I want you to know I'm not going
to let you stand in the way.

I understand.

I'm not sure you do.

Any lack of cooperation on your
part would be out of keeping

with the Communication
Intelligence Agreement,

BRUSA,

we signed with you last March.

We could terminate that
agreement.

-I see. -I'll go further.

It might also seriously
compromise the various loans

being discussed by my government
with yours.

I know Strasser is useful to
you,

but we're not going to let you
protect him.

I'm off, then.

What are you going to do today?

Maybe you'll hear from Mr.
Leonard.

You said the interview went
well.

Tommy...

you know I hate leaving you like
this,

but I have to go to work.

For the both of us.

It's all the fault of this
beastly war.

I wish you'd never gone.

Maybe...

Maybe you should think about
going back to Norton.

You were happier there.

We could write to Dr. Trevelyan.

I'm all right.

Of course you are.

Come with me for lunch if you
fancy it. 12:00.

Otherwise, I won't be late.

-Come on! -Keep doing it, Come
on.

How many RAF personnel

do we now have in the Muar Camp
in Kuala Lumpur

and the Tel el-Kebir Camp in
Egypt?

I believe the figure is about
30,000 in total.

And you would deplore
the reports

that have been coming in.

No washing facilities,

water in the tents...

-Yes. -Mud everywhere.

Yes, of course, Mr. Cranston,
the conditions are deplorable.

And my ministry's --

Would you use the word "mutiny"
to describe the men's action?

Absolutely not.

I would say they have a
grievance

and should be listened to.

What do you think?

I thought it went very
well.

You sounded concerned.

I am concerned.

I meant, you managed

to handle the issue of the
strikes perfectly.

Yeah, an impertinent
question.

What does he think we're trying
to do?

Roper!

Mr. Helliwell.

It's all right, Adam.

Yeah. It's all right.

What do you think I'm going to
do?

Hit him with my crutches?

Mr. Helliwell, what can I
do for you?

I just want you to know

that this isn't over.

You can lie to me,

you can set your thugs on me,

but one day I'll get to the
truth

about my land.

I promise ya.

Thugs?

Thank you for coming.

Well, you asked to see
me.

I cannot concentrate on my work
while all this is happening.

I have to know what you have
done, what you have found out.

Well, very little.

I spoke to the other residents,
and to the landlady.

-Mrs. Stevens? -Yes.

I wonder...

what do you think about her?

She's an attractive woman.

Well, she couldn't tell me very
much,

and neither could the others.

The truth is, there's little
more I can do.

So, what do you suggest?

Well, the same as I suggested
the last time.

Your best advice is to move.

I told you, I do not wish to do
that.

I fly to France, to Holland, to
Denmark.

I hide for a month, a year.

This has already been offered to
me.

How does it help?

Well, the further away you are,
the better, I'd say.

You have not helped. You have
done nothing!

That's a fair assessment.

Uh!

Gottverdamt! This is your fault!

You do nothing! Now you see!

How bad is it?

It's just a scratch.

Now, Mr. Foyle,

will you do something?!

That's her there with
the blond hair.

Thank you, Mrs. Stevens.

Where have you been?

How's Strasser?

He'll survive.

Not for much longer, the way
things are going on.

What do you know about him?

-I told you. -No, I mean, really
know?

Listen, I'm not going to pretend
I like having you here.

I never thought it was a good
idea to recruit a policeman.

You don't fit in.

But between you and me,

I'm not always proud of what we
get up to here either,

and, quite frankly,

I despise the idea of protecting
a bloody Nazi.

That's not why I joined
intelligence.

You haven't answered the
question.

Sir Alec wants to see you.

The building's in an uproar.

This situation is out of control
-- a shootout in London.

It's not Chicago.

This is intolerable.

-I agree. -And no
arrest?

Well, you must have some idea

of what's going on.

Well, it all seems to be
connected

with a German operation

in Northern France in '44 called
Sunflower.

Would that mean anything to you?

I mean, it's not impossible that
Strasser is being targeted

by one of the residents at the
hostel,

but I don't think that's likely.

Why not?

Well, the bullet, the sunflower.

I mean, why beat about the bush?

Just shoot him in the bath.
Wouldn't you?

Make absolutely sure
he's safe.

That's our number one priority.

Where is he now? -He's
back at the hostel.

Right, men on guard, round the
clock.

We'll do as Miss Pierce says.
24-hour protection.

But I want him moved at the
first opportunity.

That's all.

One last thing, Foyle.

Who is George Gibson?

You had him traced to a
house

in Croydon.

You authorized a tap on his
phone.

What's this all about?

Red Five.

It's a network that Strasser
helped us break up.

-Could be a link. -This man
Gibson?

Could be part of it.

Right. Well, keep at it.

Thank you.

Red Five?

I thought it was dormant.

This is getting out of hand.

It was wrong of me, sir.

I should have asked you first.

Absolutely right.

I wanted to help Adam.

Commendable, but nothing
like a good enough excuse.

They could prosecute you for
this.

You must be careful.

How many times do you need to be
told?

What's this land used for?

Food production. Ministry
of Agriculture.

But there must be something
wrong,

because the land value has
doubled in just eight years.

And Gibson was the valuer?

Yes, sir.

And if Mr. Roper's up to no
good,

then where does that leave Adam?

Thank you for helping me, sir.

Well, I'm trying to save

my own skin as well.

Got to get myself out of the lie
I've just told for you.

Nothing?

Let's try round the back.

Mr. Gibson?

-Yes. -I'm sorry, we did ring.

Oh, that's all right. What can I
do for ya?

Um, broad beans and peas.

I'm afraid you're about three
months early.

No, no, no, no.

We understand you used to live
in Devizes?

20 years. This is my wife's
mum's place.

When she died, we decided to
move back to London.

I don't know you, do I?

No, no, no, the name's Foyle.
This is --

Samantha Wainwright. Hello.

What can I do for you?

I wonder how much you'd be able
to tell us

about the valuation on a piece
of land

that used to belong to a family
called Helliwell in Devizes.

I don't know anything about it.

It was you who made the
valuation, Mr. Gibson.

No.

Well, it might have been. I
can't remember.

Well, this was a piece of
farmland about 1,000 acres,

subject to a compulsory purchase
order.

What? I don't know anything
about it.

Who are you, anyway?

We're with the security service.

My I.D.

What?

Look, I can't help you.

I did loads of valuations. I
can't remember all of them.

I have nothing more to say to
you.

There's a call.

Hello?

Leaving us, Professor?

For a short while,
Mrs. Stevens.

Just a week or two.

Going somewhere nice?

I think I will drive down to
Brighton.

Get some sea air?

Why don't you go for a nice
swim?

Drown yourself while
you're at it.

Good morning.

You're off, then?

Yes.

It's all right, gentlemen.

The car is just here.

We'll be here when you get back.

I hope so.

We don't need to waste any more
time hanging around here.

Let's get back to HQ.

I can't believe you did this.

Well, you'd have done the
same for me.

Sam...

What?

No, seriously. You shouldn't
have.

Why not?

Because... you can't just
eavesdrop

on someone because you think
they're up to no good.

But I was right, wasn't I?

It doesn't make any difference.

I was doing this for you!

What about you? Does Foyle know?

Yes.

Did he approve?

Not exactly.

I'm not surprised.

I mean, what's going to happen
if someone finds out?

You could lose your job.

I could lose my job?

I was trying to help you, Adam.

You started this.

You said there was something
wrong.

And there's the proof of it
right there in your hands.

I can't believe you're not more
grateful.

Of course I'm grateful.

Thank you.

But this isn't just illegal,

it's...unthinkable.

They took him away in two
pieces.

Grenade attached to the steering
column --

fairly simple booby trap.

Strasser pulled the pin out when
he opened the door.

It's an old SOE trick.

Is it now?

What happened to the two men

that were meant to be looking
after him?

Well, dereliction of duty
springs to mind.

And no one thought to...

Check the car before he got in?

Precisely.

We were supposed to be looking
after him.

Why didn't you move him after
the shooting?

Sir Alec wants to see you
immediately.

We're going to have to talk to
the Americans.

We were about to hand him over!

I think you have some
explaining to do, Mr. Foyle.

There's little to
explain.

You know he was here under a
Dutch pseudonym.

He was in touch because he
believed his life was at risk

as a result of anonymous letters
and phone calls.

That was before you approached
us.

And I was asked to look into it.

Seems like you didn't
look hard enough.

I take equal responsibility with
Mr. Foyle.

I think you're being
unfair, Colonel.

I'm sure these gentlemen did
everything they could.

Well, we didn't have a lot of
time.

I only met him a few days ago
and things moved rather rapidly.

Someone broke into his room.

There was an attempt to shoot
him and now, of course, this.

Someone had blown his
cover?

So he believed.

A sunflower was left in his
room,

which seemed to have
significance for him.

You're right there, Mr. Foyle.

It relates to an operation in
which Strasser was involved.

Sonnenblume.

That's Kraut for "Sunflower."

Northern France, 1944.

And what happened there?

All you need to know is that 26
American soldiers

died in what we believe was a
war crime.

Strasser was behind a desk in
Berlin.

That's what he says.

May I make an observation,
Colonel Jackson?

Please, go ahead, Miss
Pierce.

Well, no matter what the truth
is about Strasser,

there can be no doubt

that the information he gave us
saved lives,

both British and American.

A great deal of what we know
about Russian intelligence

is down to him.

The point being?

I make no apology for using him.

The stakes are too high.

But he's dead.

That's the end of it.

The matter is closed.

Closed?

We have been made to look fools,
so that's enough on the matter.

Go on, kick it!

Ah!

Thanks, Missus.

Come on.

Get him.

Ah!

He never got to Brighton.

He told you where he was going?

Last time we spoke. He said he
was off.

And then I heard it -- an
almighty bang.

So, you're not exactly
grief-stricken?

Well, he just boarded here. I
hardly knew him.

Well, I think you knew exactly
who he was.

Oh, yes?

Well, you knew he was German.

German?

I think you knew.

What makes you think that?

Well, the first time we met, you
called him Herr Van Haaren.

"Herr Van Haaren."

Not "Professor Van Haaren," not
"Mijnheer Van Haaren."

You were married to a Dutchman.

If you really believed that Van
Haaren was Dutch,

you'd have said "Mijnheer."

You knew he was German.

All right.

I knew exactly who he was.

And what he was.

Yet, you had a relationship with
him?

Who told you that?

He did.

In as many words.

My husband's dead.

I'm alone.

I did briefly know Herr
Strasser.

I gave myself to him, Mr. Foyle.

To a German.

A Nazi.

Have you any idea how that makes
me feel?

And when I found out, when I
confronted him,

do you know what he did?

He laughed.

It just goes to show, they're
all the same under the skin --

the master race.

He thought it was funny that
he'd had his way

with some poor, stupid English
woman,

and I couldn't be more pleased
the bastard's dead.

How did you find out who he was?

I knew he wasn't Dutch.

I knew it from the moment I met
him.

How did you know?

I took a shufti in his room.

Don't ask about the lock.

Easy enough to pick, and easier
still as Mrs. Stevens

keeps the spare keys in the
kitchen.

And then what?

Would you believe he'd kept his
Wehrpass?

It's his military record book.

It seems he wasn't so ashamed of
his past after all.

And you told her who he was?

Had an idea the two of them were
having the oh-be-joyfuls.

I thought she ought to know.

A hand grenade device in a car
would be fairly familiar to you.

Basic SOE training.

I can see where you're going
with that, Mr. Foyle.

But I didn't kill him,

and I'll tell you why.

I hate the Nazis for what they
did to Europe, to the Jews,

to the agents I knew personally,

to poor Edward here.

Strasser was undoubtedly a Nazi,

whatever Hilda Pierce may have
told you.

Did you know what the life
expectancy of an SOE agent

was during the war, Mr. Foyle?

Six weeks.

But they still volunteered.

Young men and women like Edward
here.

When it was all over, what did
they do?

They gave up on us.

Right now they're disbanding us.

Well, they're picking a few of
us for MI-5 and MI-6.

And the rest?

Not wanted. Not needed.

Thank you and goodbye.

A new world.

PARRY-Exactly.

A new world where we protect and
look after Nazis,

because they're useful to us.

What does that make us, do you
think?

Makes you wonder what it was all
for.

See you later.

All right.

I'll be back in an hour,
sir.

Right-o.

Something else, Adam?

Yes, I'm afraid there is, sir.

It's about this business with
the land near Devizes.

I thought we'd agreed to let
that lie.

I tried to but I couldn't.

Not after Geoffrey Helliwell was
attacked.

You told me he was the victim of
a robbery.

Or an attempt to intimidate him.

Is that what you think?

The Helliwell property was
revalued on 28th July last year.

The valuer, George Gibson,

lied when he made that
valuation.

He actually doubled the land
value

to prevent the owners from
buying it back.

Did he tell you this?

No, sir.

Well, even supposing it's true,

why are you bringing it here?

Because Mr. Gibson was acting on
instructions given by you.

He was interviewed yesterday and
immediately afterwards,

he telephoned you, here,

in your private office.

This is

a transcript

of that telephone call.

May I ask how you acquired this?

I'm afraid I can't tell you.

Well...seems pointless for me to
deny it

since you have it here in black
and white.

I suppose I should congratulate
you on a job well done.

Aren't you curious as to why I
wanted the land?

Was it for money?

Money?

Yes, it was the money.

Geoffrey Helliwell is a
developer.

He wants the land to build on
and squeeze for as much money

as he can get.

And, yet, Adam, what is the
single greatest challenge

facing this country at the
moment?

Food production.

If I could keep 1,000 acres

of prime farming land out of the
hands

of a grasping profiteer and
under the plow,

I consider I'd be doing my duty.
You don't agree?

It's -- it's still a fraud.

I put my country first.

You should learn something about
politics, Adam.

If you really want to help your
country,

sometimes you have to make
uncomfortable decisions.

Lying?

Breaking the law?

Who's seen this?

No one.

Who's going to?

I see.

Get out.

It sickens me, Adam.

Sickens me...that you should
think I was in it for the money.

I cross-checked the flats
with the hospital records.

Her name's Mary Nelson.

She lives on the fourth floor.

You see, we need to know

why you were at the hostel at
Breacon Street.

Is this about Tommy?

Who is Tommy?

He's my brother. He sent
me there.

He wanted to know about a
Dutchman who had a room there.

A professor.

Professor Van Haaren.

Yes.

Why did he want to know?

Well, he didn't tell me.

He saw him at the university
library.

It was quite by chance.

Tommy saw him and, well,

after that it was like an
obsession.

What did you tell him?

Not very much. Only what the
lady told me.

He'd been there for three
months.

He had a room on the top floor.

Has...something happened?

Has Tommy done something?

Do you know where he is?

I've got no idea.

I've been so worried about him.

Tommy was very badly injured
after D-Day.

He was in Normandy.

He was shot in the head.

He never talked to me about it,

but the truth is, he never
recovered.

Not -- not really.

Uh, it took him a year to
recover physically.

And then he went to a hospital
in Reading --

a wonderful place called Norton
Park.

They tried to put him back
together again,

you know, mentally.

Do you think he could have
gone back there?

I don't know. I suppose so.

I don't know why I didn't think
of it first.

Do you remember the name of his
doctor?

How do you do, Mr. Foyle?

John Trevelyan.

-How do you do? -Welcome to
Norton.

Thomas Nelson is a patient of
yours?

Yes. He came back to us
yesterday.

But I'm a bit concerned about
him speaking to you.

Why would that be?

Mr. Nelson has been severely
traumatized

by what happened to him in
Normandy.

It's still very difficult for
him to talk about it.

He talks to you.

Well, he talks within a group.
That's what we do here.

In that environment,

Tom can face up to what happened
to him.

But alone it is much more
difficult.

Well, I understand the need to
protect the patient,

but the truth is, he could be in
an awful lot of trouble

and at some point, he'll need to
speak.

If you talk to him, you talk to
him under my supervision.

Fair enough.

I, uh...

I was with the Royal Artillery
in -- in France.

Captain...

Captain Thomas Nelson, reporting
for duty.

It's all right, Tom.

You don't have to do this.

I was...

I was attached

to a -- a U.S. Army field
artillery unit.

Observe. Report back.

Weaponry. Tactics.

It was, um...

It was a good -- good -- good
bunch.

All, uh, very, very young and
far from home.

And, uh, I was with them when
it, um --

when it...

When it all went wrong.

Get on the ground!

We'd, uh...

We'd got separated.

We were trapped behind enemy
lines.

A farmhouse in a place called...

Mmm--

Mmm-- Moretaine.

It was...hopeless.

Sergeant!

We're surrendering!

Prepare a white flag!

Destroy all documents

and signaling gear.

Move it!

And then...we -- we went out.

Honorable surrender.

Conventions of war.

Not this time.

Not this time.

Fire!

I somehow,

uh, managed to get away.

And all I can remember...

are the sunflowers.

The farm was...

was surrounded by sunflowers.

And, uh...

And I...

I thought I could...

Hide in the field.

The...

The bullet didn't -- didn't kill
me.

I don't know why not.

A French woman found me.

And I was...

I was the only one left.

She -- she --

she looked after me.

The name of the German officer?

Uh, it was the -- the 12th SS
Panzer Division.

I -- I never found out his name.

But you saw him again.

Yes.

A few weeks ago in London.

He was coming out of a library.

Did you kill him?

Yes.

"It has been a privilege
to serve in your government,

and to have taken part in the
huge reforms

that this country so badly
needs.

So, it is with deep regret that
I tender my resignation.

It is also not my intention

to stand at the next general
election,

and I will make this clear in
due course.

Yours sincerely, Charles Roper."

Thank you, Lottie.

Good night, sir.

What have you done?

What exactly have you done?

I didn't know he'd resign.

What choice did he have?

I don't know what to say to you,
Adam.

You lost your position as a PPS.

After this, no one in the party
is going to want to touch you.

The government has lost

an effective and committed
minister.

And maybe the country has lost
1,000 acres

of agricultural land.

So, what exactly have we gained
here?

You told him, didn't you?

What? Told him what?

Roper knew Helliwell hadn't left
London,

that he was staying in a hotel.

I didn't tell him. Someone else
must have.

I kept him informed. He's my
friend.

Did you also tell him

the name of the hotel?

Sorry, what are you -- what are
you saying?

Are you suggesting one of us
arranged to have him beaten up?

Well, maybe you should have a
look at this.

That's a police report.

They found the men responsible
for the assault on Helliwell.

Part of a well known gang.

Nothing to do with Roper.

There's a bunch of constituents
outside.

Mrs. Jones is back.

We'd better have them in.

It's all my fault.

No, it wasn't.

You were right. I started it.

You know, I still can't believe
you did that for me.

Yes.

And look where it got you.

Well, I'm still an MP.

Glenvil will come round
eventually.

I do wonder, though.

What?

Well, he asked me what I'd
actually achieved,

and I wasn't sure I had an
answer for him.

-Well, I have. -Go on.

What you've achieved was
everything I married you for.

You stayed true to your beliefs.

You didn't let anyone bully you
into turning a blind eye.

You may have been wrong about
the attack at the hotel,

but you were right about
everything else,

and that's what matters.

Mr. Roper was a crook.

I know it's not as simple as
that,

but we can't have politicians
lying and breaking the rules

just because it suits them...

That's exactly what I did.

Then what was the point

of winning the war we've just
been through?

That's what we should really be
thinking about.

What sort of world are we trying
to create?

-Sam -- -But there's something
else.

It rather matters to me just now
because I've just been

at the hospital and the doctor
has said

that contrary to medical
opinion,

I'm about to introduce somebody
else into that world.

Six months from now.

I've been dying to tell you all
day,

but so much had been happening,
I didn't get a chance.

A baby?

You are amazing.

You are amazing.

I can't think why you'd want to
see it.

Just a feeling.

Miss Pierce won't like it.

In fact, she'd have my guts for
garters

if she knew I'd authorized this.

Why have you?

You did me a great kindness,
Foyle.

You could have caused me a lot
of trouble and you chose not to.

And another thing.

I'm wondering what you're up to.

Is this what you're looking for?

His SS tattoo?

A lot of SS officers had these.

Partly medical, partly for
identification.

That way you can check his
records,

find out everything you need to
know.

Anything else?

No.

I understand that you've been
investigating

the death of Karl Strasser --

the two of you.

We've been making enquiries.

Enquiries? You're not a
policeman, Valentine.

Why are you talking like one?

You saw the body.

Who authorized that?

There were unanswered questions,
sir.

The only unanswered question

is why you chose to undermine my
authority.

It's the case then, is it, that
your authority

has been behind all decisions
relating to Strasser?

What are you talking about?

Oh, I think you know very well.

Enlighten me.

I'm talking about the massacre
of American troops

at the village of Moretaine two
years ago,

and the extent to which you know
about this,

and of Strasser's involvement.

What I knew or didn't know is
irrelevant.

Well, I'll take that as a
yes.

Strasser was recognized by a
survivor of that massacre,

a British soldier, Thomas
Nelson.

He sent the bullet,

he placed the sunflower in
Strasser's room.

Strasser personally tried to
kill Nelson and as a result,

unsurprisingly, Nelson is now a
very sick man

and made an attempt to shoot and
kill Strasser.

He believes he succeeded. He's
wrong, he missed.

He didn't miss with the grenade.

He had nothing to do with the
grenade.

You did.

Or rather, the grenade

was placed in the car by this
department with your authority.

Why would we do that?

Well, to avoid having to deliver
him to the Americans

who justifiably want him for war
crimes.

You used the coincidence of
Nelson's vendetta

to arrange the murder in the
belief that Nelson

would take the blame.

Absurd idea.

We were about to hand him over.

From our point of view, it's
regrettable that he's dead.

And a pointless exercise killing
your asset.

I agree.

Then why are you suggesting that
we did?

I'm not, because you haven't.

He's alive.

Isn't he?

And what led you to
that conclusion?

Well, odd,

to start with, that a man
attempting to avoid justice

and escape with his life should
tell his landlady

precisely where he's going.

You saw the body, Foyle.

I saw a corpse.

I saw a headless corpse

that had been given Strasser's
tattooed military I.D.

With absolutely no sign
whatsoever of the wound

that he got when Nelson took a
shot at him.

Gottverdamt, this is your fault!

Where is he?

Where is he?

You...

In a safe place.

And what are you going to do
with him?

He's leaving first thing
tomorrow.

It's better for all concerned
that he's not seen for a while.

We can't do this.

Oh, for heaven's sake, grow up,
Valentine.

Karl Strasser is an invaluable
source

of information to us.

I have no more fondness for
these labyrinthine schemes

than you do, but if they work, I
am not going to argue.

The greater good?

Exactly, Foyle.

That's all.

The plane's approaching,
sir.

Please!

Please don't!

How did you know? How did you
know we were here?

You said he was leaving this
morning.

How else would he leave the
country?

So, you saw through

our little stratagem.

Yes.

And you've come to say goodbye?

I have nothing to say.

Then why have you come?

Doubtless I disgust you.

It was war, Mr. Foyle.

Towards the end, it is my belief

Himmler knew the war was lost
and he wanted to incriminate us,

to dirty our hands, so that we
could not claim

that we were merely
Schreibtischtater --

desk criminals.

That was how I came to find
myself

in Northern France in 1944.

What you did wasn't war.

It was chaos.

We were already retreating.

26 American soldiers.

I couldn't have taken them
prisoner,

even if I'd wanted to.

It was not possible.

I make no apology, Mr. Foyle.

You can go to hell as far as I'm
concerned.

Your people need me now.

Your role was to help me and
this is exactly what we did.

We will not meet again.

I believe you're absolutely
right.

You told them?

The Americans?

Foyle?

You're a traitor to the service.

It wasn't Foyle.

It was me.

Arthur?

I take full
responsibility.

It was a step too far.

That man...we end up by working
with him, we're no better

than he is.

Miss Pierce,

I think you have some explaining
to do.

Karl Strasser, Lieutenant
Colonel Hoyt Jackson.

I'm taking you into the custody

of the United States Department
of Justice.

Where to, sir?

Good question.