All language subtitles for The Spy Who Came in from the Cold (1965) Criterion 1h 52m 23s .23.976fps

Coffee, sir.

Why don't you go back and sleep,
Mr Leamas?

We'll ring you if he should show up.

Maybe he'll come some other time.

We can have the police contact you.
You can be back here in 20 minutes.

You can't wait forever, sir.

He'll come with the workmen.
He'll come with the night crowd.

- He'll come.
- That's what you said last night.

Agents are not aeroplanes, you know.
They don't have schedules.

Didn't they teach you that in the CIA?

He's on the run.
Mundt is after him at this moment.

Let him choose his own time.

Mundt may have caught him
like he's caught all the others.

Riemeck's not like the others.

But you need some sleep, sir.

Look, if you wanna go, go.

You've been very good.

I'll tell the agency
you've been damn good.

I'll be around.

What's wrong?
Why are the Vopos so close?

I don't know.

What are your orders
for giving covering fire to protect a man,

a man on the run?

If they shoot into the west,
we shoot back. That's all.

We cannot give covering fire.
That's the truth.

They tell us it would be war if we did.

I've got a man coming over tonight.

Here? At this crossing point?

It'd mean a great deal
if we could get him out.

There are still places
where you can climb.

Not that kind, he'd bluff his way through.

He's got papers,
if the papers are any good.

A man with a bicycle.

Halt! Halt! Halt!

Why has Control called me back?

Control's pretty vexed
about Mundt liquidating Riemeck.

But why doesn't he have the sense
to let his station head stay in Berlin,

and arrange for somebody
to liquidate Mundt?

- Pawson.
- Yes, sir.

- What section are you in?
- Personnel.

- Do you like it?
- Fascinating.

You get to know everybody's fate.

What's mine?

Better let Control tell you that.
It's not my job.

But you do know, of course.

Leamas.

Control.

Thank you.

Well, do sit down. You must be tired.

Ginny's away, I'm afraid.

And this new girl,
she never warms the pot.

She's called Patrice. Imagine.

- It used to be two lumps.
- It still is.

- And, of course, no milk.
- No milk.

Simply maddening, isn't it?

One wonders how they catch them all.

Landsor, Salamon,
and now Karl Riemeck.

It's such a pity we lost him.

- Would you like a drink?
- No, I'll wait.

Can you still do that?

I wonder whether you're tired,
burnt-out.

Well, that's a phenomenon
we understand here.

It's like metal fatigue.

We have to live without sympathy,
don't we?

We can't do that forever.

One can't stay out-of-doors all the time.

One needs to come in, in from the cold.

I'm an operator, Control,
just an operator.

There's a vacancy in banking section
which might suit you...

Sorry, I'm an operational man.

I'll take my pension.
I don't want a desk job.

- You don't know what's on the desk.
- Paper.

I want you to stay out in the cold,

a little longer.

Please do sit down.

Our work, as I understand it,
is based on a single assumption

that the West is never going to be
the aggressor.

Thus, we do disagreeable things,

but we're defensive.

Our policies are peaceful,

but our methods
can't afford to be less ruthless

than those of the opposition,

can they?

Now, I'd say,

since the war, our methods,
our techniques, that is,

and those of the communists
have become very much the same.

Yes.

I mean,

occasionally we have to do
wicked things.

Very wicked things, indeed.

But you can't be less wicked
than your enemies,

simply because your government's
policy is benevolent, can you?

What I have in mind for Mundt
is a little out of the ordinary.

- You haven't met him, have you?
- Mundt? No.

No, well, he was here in '59.

He was posing as a member
of the East German Steel Mission.

I was in Berlin.

And how do you feel about him?

- Feel?
- Yes.

- He's a bastard.
- Quite.

Robert Jones.

Smith.

Roberts, T. Roberts.

Leamas, Alec Leamas.

John Wilson.

Leamas.

The last time and the time before
I was seen by a Mr Melrose.

My name is Pitt. Melrose has flu.

Not much of a stayer, are you?

The jobs weren't exactly...

Mr Leamas,
fluent German isn't much use,

even in an experienced
sales representative,

who's frequently
speechless by lunchtime.

Vacancies for male nurses
at Battersea General.

Think I'd do better as a patient.

Here's one
where your languages might help.

Blantyre Institute of Psychical Research
in Candahar Road.

Five minutes on an 11 bus.
They want another assistant.

The librarian's a Miss Crail.

Well, I should gargle, Mama.

Yes, yes, I know.
There's a lot of it about.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes, goodbye, Mama.

Can I help you?

My name is Leamas.

I was sent from the Labour Exchange
by Mr Pitt,

as a possible new assistant.

Oh. You have your qualification form?

- You've used a card index?
- Now and then.

- Is your handwriting legible?
- Except at weekends.

Our books used to be shelved
and indexed under titles and authors.

But now Brigadier Blantyre
wants them rearranged

and additionally indexed under subjects,

with cross-references
to authors and titles. Thus...

Phantasms of the Living,
by Gurney, Myers and Podmore,

has already been title-indexed
under "P" for Phantasms,

and author-indexed
under "G" for Gurney,

- "M" for Myers...
- "P" for Podmore.

Precisely.

Now it must also be subject-indexed
under "A" for Apparitions.

Have you understood that?

They told me
the job pays £11.10 a week.

Yes, Mama.

Yes, Mama.

Would you like to share
my sandwiches?

I wouldn't dream of it.

Something called Savoury Spread.

- I still wouldn't dream of it.
- There isn't a cafe for miles.

Any pubs?

Oh, yes, but you can't get lunch
in any of them.

It'll be okay. Thank you.

- Bloody night, Mr Patmore.
- Bloody dirty, Mr Leamas.

Loaf of bread.

A tin of this corned beef.

Let me have some marmalade.

A tin of tomato soup.

That'll be...

- Four and six, sir.
- Shove it on the bill, Mr Patmore.

Sorry, Mr Leamas. I told you last week.

If you want a proper credit account,
you need a banker's reference.

You'll get your cash on Friday.

You can have the goods on Friday.

I've got a job.

Very well, sir.

- Miss Perry?
- Yes, Mr Leamas?

Montague Summers', The Werewolf,
where would I...

Oh, under Metamorphoses.

It's in the sub-section on Lycanthropy.

- On what?
- Lycanthropy.

A Iycanthrope is a man
who's been transformed into a wolf.

It seems popular.
Quite a lot of people have taken it out.

Oh, they're all little Mr Beamish.
He takes it out about once a month.

At the full moon.

- What you do on payday, Alec?
- Do?

Do you visit friends, go to the cinema?

No.

- Go out to dinner?
- No.

- Where do you eat then, at home?
- I suppose so.

- Good night.
- Like to have dinner at my place?

I've got a bottle of wine
left over from Christmas.

Could I contribute
half a bottle of Scotch?

I keep one at home

for medicinal purposes.

- Candles were new, weren't they?
- They just hadn't been used before.

Come have your coffee and whisky.

You know, Nan,
you really shouldn't have.

You know, whisky
is very, very expensive.

- Sugar?
- Two lumps.

With your fingers will be all right.
And no milk.

Is the soda medicinal, too?

- You're very observant.
- I've had to be.

- Why?
- Well, I was a scoutmaster.

I don't believe it.

You sometimes have the look
of a dedicated man,

not to that particular cause.

- Me, dedicated?
- Well...

What do you believe in?

Well, don't laugh. Tell me.

Well, I believe that a number 11 bus
will get me to Hammersmith.

I do not believe
it will be driven by Father Christmas.

That's not a cause.

What would you like me
to believe in? Peter Pan or God?

Oh, no, no, of course not.
I don't believe in God, either.

No? What do you believe in?

Me?

History. Partly.

Partly freedom, partly...

Nan, don't tell me,
you're a bloody communist.

Yes.

That's me. Fighting for peace.

Well, other people just talk.
The Party's going to do something.

And what, may I ask,
will the Party do for Comrade Nan?

I was once driving down
a main road in... On the Continent.

And I saw two great trucks
move out and converge

on a station wagon
driving down the middle of the road.

I only heard the crash
because I drove on.

The last I saw of the station wagon
was three small children,

two little boys and a little girl

laughing through the back window.

I...

Communism, capitalism...

It's the innocents who get slaughtered.

Compassion isn't enough.
Nobody wants that.

Well, it's got to be organised,
disciplined, to be of any use.

Well, that's what the Party does for us.
Don't you see...

- We... It organises our emotions...
- Oh, Nan.

- You're too proud for that, aren't you?
- Nan...

Don't let's argue, Alec.
This evening was meant to please you.

Oh, it did.

It did.

Well...

Thank you for my stew and my coffee,

and my wine and my medicinal whisky.

Good night, Nan.

Half a pound of parmesan.

Anything more, Mrs Zanfrello?

- Will be all, thank you.
- That will be two, five, seven.

Seven and seven. Cash or credit?

- Please, to credit.
- Right.

Let me have a tin of that caviar.

Well, it's only mock, Mr Leamas.
It's Norwegian.

I prefer it mock.

Let me have a tin

of California cling peaches.

- Large or small?
- Large. Got to keep my strength up.

And a pound of butter.

And

let me have some of this scampi.

Italian. It's very nice.

Madam, I'll thank you not to insult
the hot blood of Irish prawns

taken from the Bay of Dublin herself.

That'll be 19 and nine, please, sir.

Cash or credit?

Beg your pardon, sir?

Cash or credit?

You said Friday, Mr Leamas.
Cash, please.

If a bloody Italian can have credit
why can't a bloody Irishman?

Now, there's no need for talk like that!

Put that phone down.

Put that phone down!

Marcella, call the police.

I brought you some sandwiches.

You shouldn't have come, Nan.

What will Miss Crail think,
consorting with an ex-convict

during the library's time?

It's 8:15. I'll catch the next number 7,
and she'll never know.

What will you do, Alec?

Go for a walk, have a bit of a think,
and avoid the pubs.

Visit the Labour Exchange,
collect my suitcase...

I've collected it, it's at my flat.
Till you find somewhere decent.

- Nan, I...
- Dinner will be served at 8:00

with a Portuguese wine spelled D-A-O

with a twiddle over the "A"
and pronounced "dang."

- Dang.
- I made Hungarian goulash.

Well, I thought it would be tactful
to serve a communist dish

with a totalitarian wine.

What's in the parcel, Alec?

- My pyjamas.
- Good.

8:00. Don't be late.

Do you like birds?

The ones with the white collars are wild,
and the others are domesticated.

With people, it's the other way around.

Birdwatching's one of my hobbies.
I often come here.

Do you also often come to Wormwood
Scrubs prison at 8:00 in the morning

to watch birds?

Yes. Jailbirds.

- They're my other hobby.
- Only the young ones, surely.

That's not quite fair.

I'm a member of a charitable
discharged prisoners' aid society

called The Link.

My card.

Why pick on me, Mr Ashe?

Because the Governor said
that you'd refused prisoners' aid,

and you wouldn't even see
a probation officer.

Now, that's proud and stupid.

So I followed you.

And what sort of aid

does your charitable organisation
dispense, Mr Ashe?

We try and find
your professional qualifications...

Half a bottle of whisky a day,
or is that a disqualification?

Then introduce you to other members
of The Link, who might find you a job.

Officially, we're allowed to offer you £5
out of society's funds,

to tide you over the first few days.

And, unofficially,
we're allowed to offer you lunch.

More retsina?

I don't see why not.
I've nothing to be clear-headed for.

Oh, but you will have,
if only you'll stop being obstinate

and let me introduce you to
this great friend of mine, Dick Carlton.

Yeah, all right, all right.

But I keep on telling you I can't write,
except business reports.

I keep on telling you,
you don't have to write.

His agency is always on the lookout
for German background material.

Political, economic, social,
even tourist stuff.

He services the holiday magazines, too.

Now, you with your
business experience of Berlin

provide the facts, the opinions.

His chaps do all the writing.

As a matter of fact,
I'm meeting him myself this evening,

at a club in Dean Street called
the Pussy Willow, at 7:30 for drinks.

- Care to join us?
- Oh, sorry, sorry. No, I have a date.

Just drop in for a quick one.
You might do yourself a bit of good.

Anyway, I'll bring a cheque for five quid
from The Link to tide you over.

A cheque?

I'll bring cash.

Pussy Willow, Dean Street.

7:30. Okay?

Okay.

I have to go now. Finish your wine.
Ciao, then.

Thanks for the...

We haven't met.
My name's Smiley. I live here.

So they've made contact.

A man called Ashe.

The way you beat up that grocer
was masterly, Alec.

Two small paragraphs down the page
in the West London Observer.

But it was enough.

A shark can smell blood
a mile off when he's hungry,

and Mundt is hungry for our blood.

Name me a counter-espionage head
who isn't hungry

for one high-grade defecting spy.

So I'm to defect?

Yes, I wanted you to build up
the portrait of a man

whom inaction and embitterment
had driven to drink,

but not yet to actual treachery.

Don't change the portrait
by a brush stroke, Alec.

Just continue to be embittered.
Continue to drink.

Drink, but never be too drunk to think.

Smiley, give Leamas whisky and soda.

What am I to think about?

You're to think about the evidence
we've cooked up to incriminate Mundt.

To incriminate him so lethally,

that his own second-in-command
will arrest him and have him shot.

Yes, we've been cooking
for a long time, Alec,

with a great many ingredients
in a great many pots.

Remember those two trips
you made for us from Berlin,

to Copenhagen and Helsinki?

Operation Rolling Stone.

Precisely.
That was one of the ingredients.

They'll interrogate you, of course.

And bit by bit, you'll come across
with the evidence that will kill Mundt.

Just feed them a stray fact here
and a stray fact there.

Let them piece the clues
and the facts together

into the story we want them to believe.

Yes, there's a man called Fiedler.

Mundt's second-in-command.

Fiedler, my dear Alec,
is the Iynchpin of our plan.

Fiedler is the only man
who's a match for Mundt

and he hates his guts.

Fiedler's a Jew, of course.
And Mundt's quite the other thing.

Believe me, my dear Alec,

Fiedler is the acolyte

who one day will stab the high priest
in the back.

And Rolling Stone will provide him
with the dagger point.

Yes.

Oh, and by the way,

is there anything we can do
while you're away

for that girlfriend of yours, Miss Perry?

You know, I mean money or anything?

Only when it's over,
then I'll take care of it myself.

Yeah, quite.

To do anything now
would be very insecure.

Very insecure.

Well, I just don't want her
to be implicated.

I promise not to.

I don't want her to have a file
or anything.

- I promise that, too.
- I want her left out of it.

I want her forgotten.

She shall be.

And I think, until this thing is over,
you should forget her, too.

Go and meet Ashe's friend.
Go and meet Carlton.

And after Carlton, whom?

Well, we don't know, do we?

This party's on The Link,

a charitable society for the rehabilitation
of discharged prisoners.

Bring us a bottle of Scotch
and keep the change, if any.

Now, perhaps you'll tell me
what the bloody hell is going on?

- I don't know what you mean.
- You followed me from prison

when I was released with some
cock-and-bull story about prisoners' aid.

You bought me an expensive meal
and gave me a fiver

for services which I didn't render.

- I was only trying...
- I know what you were trying

and don't bloody well interrupt.

Just wait until I finish. Do you mind?

You're used to waiting, aren't you?
On street corners.

Now look here, Leamas,
ever since I've tried to help you,

you've done nothing but insult me.

Drop it.

I only want to make it crystal clear that

although I'm prepared to accept
insults from him in private,

I'm not prepared to be insulted in front
of somebody I admire and respect and...

Get out.

Get out.

Okay, Dick.

If that's what you want.

Now perhaps you'll tell me
why you let that queer pick me up.

By all means. I told him to.

Why?

As a fellow member of The Link,
I'm interested in you.

I want to make you a proposition.

- A journalistic proposition.
- Journalistic? I see.

I run an agency,
an international feature service.

It pays well, very well,
for interesting material.

- Who publishes the material?
- Oh, international clients.

I have a correspondent in Paris who
disposes of a good deal of the stuff.

Often I don't even know
who does publish,

and I confess, I don't awfully care.
They pay promptly.

And they're happy to pay

into Swiss or Scandinavian banks,
for instance,

where nobody seems to bother
very much about things like tax.

They'd even make the cheque payable
to your pen name, if you had one.

They'd have to pay a hell of a lot.

They're offering a down payment
of £15,000.

The money's already lodged
in the Banque Cantonale de Berne.

On the production
of suitable identification,

with which my clients will provide you,
you can draw the money.

And my clients will assist you

with any resettlement problems
that may arise.

- How soon would you want an answer?
- Now.

Of course, you're not expected to
commit all your reminiscences to paper.

You'll meet my client, and he'll arrange
to have the material ghost-written.

Where would I meet him?

We fly to The Hague
tomorrow morning at 9:45.

I'll drive you anywhere
you have to go to pack.

No, you won't.

Leamas, at this stage, I can't afford
to turn you loose on London.

- I'm afraid you'll have to.
- Why?

Well, I don't want the girl implicated.

Do you have to see her?

Well, she has my suitcase.

We'd prefer to pick it up ourselves.

You can prefer what you like.

I didn't ask you how many lumps
because I remembered.

I didn't ask
why you came 40 minutes late,

when the goulash had turned solid,

because you came.

There's only one thing
I really want to know, Alec.

What?

Whatever happened to your pyjamas?

They should be in Gravesend by now.
I threw them into the Thames.

You come into money?

Well, buying a whole bottle of whisky
instead of your usual half,

and flinging your pyjamas in the river.

I have another pair in my suitcase.
Chocolate brown with white piping.

Like a cake.

- And not tasting of prison.
- No.

Was it awful?

No, no. Just ridiculous.

And why do they have to have
disinfectant that smells even worse

than the stuff
that it's supposed to disinfect?

And why do they give you back
your personal belongings

as if they'd been sanctified
by the Archbishop of Canterbury?

"And with this ring, I do thee wed.

"With this brown paper parcel,
I return thee to society."

Well, they returned you to me.
I'm very grateful.

So grateful,
I cut tonight's Party meeting.

Oh, well, thank you for putting me
above history.

- Whisky or dão?
- Dão.

I have to go away
early tomorrow morning.

I could tell.

I'll be back.

Thank you.

How long are you staying in Holland,
Mr Thwaite?

About two weeks,
until the conference finishes.

You know your passport lapses
in 18 days?

I'll be back.

Welcome, Leamas.
You had a good voyage?

- It was all right.
- Thank you, Carlton.

You can take the car.

- How about you?
- Just coffee.

Is it always just coffee?

What are you, anyway?
Who are you? What's your name?

I'm a professional man.

All right, they've sent a professional.
Fine.

So, we can
cut out the tricks and games.

We both know our job.

You've got a paid defector
on your hands. That's me.

Date of birth?

August the 25th, 1924.

In Sawley, Derbyshire.

Sawley, Derbyshire.

Parents?

Ronald Arthur, born 1901.

Kathleen Olive, maiden name Cantley,

born in Ireland, 1905.

- You're unmarried?
- Yes.

What was the date and method
of your recruitment?

1943, September the 14th.

The War Office advertised for linguists.
I applied.

First appointment?

Yes. Banking section.

That's where I began.
That's where I ended.

Bastards.

So, you came back from Berlin,
and they put you in banking.

What were your duties?

Signing cheques for other people,
concealed payments. Paper.

What were your exact duties?

Paying agents.
A letter would come from Finance.

The payment of 5,000 Swiss francs

to such and such an agent
is authorised by so-and-so.

So I'd sign the cheque or
get the bank to make a transfer.

Which bank?

Blatt and Rodney,
a chichi little bank in the city.

There's a theory in the service
that Etonians are discreet.

So, you knew the names
of British agents all over the world?

No, I signed a blank cheque.
The name of the payee was secret.

- Who knew then? Who kept the names?
- Special dispatch.

They added the name
and mailed the cheque.

- So, you just provided a signature?
- A false signature.

After 18 years in the service,
my sole contribution.

Did you make regular payments
from banking section?

No, Rolling Stone, that was all.
Quarterly.

Rolling Stone. What did that involve?

Opening accounts at two foreign banks.

Where? And what dates?

Copenhagen, the second week
in April, the 12th, I think. Yes, the 12th.

Where else?

Helsinki. That was earlier.
February the 29th.

- What kind of money?
- It was big, very big.

$50,000 to Copenhagen and
100,000 deutsche marks to Helsinki.

You opened the accounts
in false names?

Yes.

And you called the operation
Rolling Stone.

- That was the cover name?
- Yes.

If it was a clandestine payment,

why did it have to have
a cover name as well?

- Orders.
- Whose orders?

Control. He chose the cover name.

- Shall we continue indoors?
- You want to write it down, don't you?

Don't know what you're looking for.
Scratching around in the dust.

I'll start again.

One.

Leamas crosses Danish border
on his own passport.

Two. Leamas collects cash
from innocent bank.

Three. Leamas goes to second bank
with a false passport

under the name of Woolrych.

Four. Leamas opens joint account,
same as married couple does,

in two false names.

One was my own alias, Woolrych.
The other was the alias of my partner.

Your partner was, in this case,

the agent who would later collect
the money.

- Brilliant.
- What was the agent's alias?

Werner Ziebold.

Werner Ziebold.

How did you get a specimen
of Ziebold's signature?

Special dispatch gave it to me.

All right. Go on, please.

There's nothing to go on about.
That was it.

Joint account was opened.
Only two people could draw on it.

And within a week or two, no doubt,

the mysterious Mr Ziebold
went to the bank and drew his money.

I never knew when. I never knew why.
I never damn well cared.

By that time I hated the lot of them,

Control, those damned old pussycats
chewing their winegums, hated...

Come in.

Excuse me, Herr Peters.
It came by special messenger.

Thank you.

They're looking for you in England.

They don't say anything.
They just want you.

You're missing,
and the police want information.

I shall have to make a telephone call.
Wait here.

We have to leave.

Holland is not safe for you anymore.
We have to go at once.

The discussion will be continued later.

What do you mean, go?

- Go where?
- East. Where else?

My passport lapses in 18 days.

Your passport is
an embarrassment already.

You did it, didn't you?
Your people leaked it in London.

You want to get me out of Holland
to some cosy worker's paradise,

where you can keep me safe and warm.
I don't want that.

Give me my money. I'll go now.
Just give me my money!

You have not yet earned the money.

Besides, if you go now,
you will be caught within 48 hours.

So precisely what do you propose
to do about it?

Yes?

- Miss Perry?
- Yes.

My name is Smiley.
I'm a friend of Alec Leamas.

A close friend.
We worked for the same firm in Berlin.

Here's my business card.

I assure you I'm quite respectable.

- You mean you want to come in?
- Please, if it's not too late.

No.

- Tired?
- Aren't you?

No. I didn't have any drink
with my supper.

I didn't have any supper with my drink.

- Will they start in on me right away?
- I don't know.

If they have any sense
they will wait until your head is clearer.

- Who will I see?
- Fiedler.

Fiedler.

- Whose room is that, Fiedler's?
- No. He is in the east wing.

Very appropriate. When will he come?

In his own time.

- Do you think he's good at his job?
- For a Jew.

You're tired. We'll talk in the morning.

You'll be awakened at 6:00.
Please be ready at 7:00.

We can't waste time.

You have the transcript
of his first interrogation?

Yes.

It's still locked.

They are Mundt's quarters.

He's away for a while.

- When will he be back?
- In a while.

- He doesn't tell you much, does he?
- He tells me what he needs to.

Mundt was a Nazi, wasn't he?

He was a member
of the Hitler Youth, as a boy.

And now he's a grown-up communist.

- He's what I would call available.
- Like you.

Shall we begin?

Let me start
by asking you an amusing question.

Let me start by asking you one.
It'll make you laugh your head off.

Where's my money?
When can I go wherever home is?

Carlton's gone home. Peters has
gone home. What about me?

- The agreement was...
- Agreement?

You've broken the bloody agreement,

and barring miracles,
you've broken my bloody neck, too.

The agreement was that I should be
interrogated for two weeks in Holland,

paid and allowed to slip quietly
back to England

without anyone knowing
I'd ever been away.

And nobody would've known
if you hadn't broken the story.

Just who the hell do you think you are?

How dare you come stepping in here
like Napoleon ordering me about?

You are a traitor! Does it occur to you?

A wanted, spent, dishonest man.
The lowest currency of the Cold War.

We buy you, we sell you, we lose you.
We even can shoot you.

Not a bird would stir
in the trees outside.

Not a single peasant
would turn his head to see what fell.

Besides, we didn't tell London.

We were thinking of using you again,
so we didn't tell them. You're wrong.

As for the money, you'll get it
when you've given us information.

The better you talk, the sooner we pay.

So far, your information is useless,

cheap pedlar's stuff. Nothing.

Shall we try a little harder?

It isn't a question of trying.
I told you what I know.

Make your own deductions.

Very well.

Let's make some deductions together.

What would you,
as an experienced intelligence officer,

deduce from the few facts
you gave us about Rolling Stone?

Then let me offer my conclusion first.
Control himself was running an agent.

He paid him, christened the operation,
personally supervised the case.

- Do you consider that fanciful?
- It's possible.

Anything's possible.

Can you deduce the nationality
of Control's agent?

How could I? How could anybody?

Who chose the name Ziebold?
Who chose it?

Control.

A German alias and Control chose it.
I wonder why.

So what? He could still have been
a bloody Tibetan.

Oh, come on, Leamas.

You don't give a Tibetan a German alias

if you want him to be able to visit
a bank inconspicuously

and draw out large sums of money.

You give a German alias to a German,
and what kind of German?

If Control ran him, an East German.

And if Control ran him,
somebody very, very big.

Do you see what I'm after?

Yes.

Your last agent was Riemeck.
Karl Riemeck.

I never had a chance to interrogate him.

Mundt shot him.

- How did you first approach Riemeck?
- We didn't. He approached us.

- Offering what?
- Offering a roll of microfilm

which when we developed
it turned out to contain photographs

of the minutes of a weekly meeting

held by the Presidium of
the East German Communist Party.

After that,
the information got better and better.

I never handled stuff like it.

Did it ever occur to you
to ask him how he got his information?

Why the hell should I?
He worked in the Presidium.

- Did Control ever ask you how he got it?
- No.

- Did Control meet Riemeck?
- Yes. Once.

I was against it for simple
security reasons but, yes, he did.

Control came to Berlin last spring.

He asked to meet Riemeck
to thank him.

Were you present at the thanksgiving?

Of course I was. I introduced them.

- But were you present all the time?
- No. I introduced them and then I left.

Control insisted on that?
He wanted to be alone with Riemeck?

Yes. I suppose it gave him a kick.

- How long were they alone?
- Five minutes, 10 minutes.

What are you trying to prove?

I'm not at a proving stage.

You're going down a blind alley, Fiedler.

You forget.

I ran the Berlin station.
I ran all the agents in East Germany.

If Rolling Stone had been
an East German agent

I'd have known about it.
He couldn't function any other way.

You're wasting your time.

I ran all the agents in East Germany.

Karl Riemeck was the last.

Would you like some fresh air?

What are you going to do
with the money?

I don't know.

Settle down in some sunny spot
on the Caspian

with one of your
flaxen-haired discus throwers.

- I can't go home.
- Don't you mind giving up your country?

What the hell has
my country done for me?

I worked for the service for 18 years,

then they kicked me out
as if it had been 18 minutes.

- Why did you work for them?
- Oh, the money.

- Only money?
- It was a job.

You would have done it anywhere
for anyone?

I'm a technician, Fiedler.
Just a technician.

- But not a communist technician.
- Oh, for God's sake...

A Christian, then.

I don't believe in Father Christmas,
I don't believe in God or Karl Marx.

I don't believe in anything
that rocks the world.

But how do you sleep?
You have to have a philosophy.

I reserve the right to be ignorant.
That's the Western way of life.

I couldn't have put it better myself.

You think ignorance a valuable
contribution to world knowledge.

- You fight for ignorance.
- Go to hell.

Look, all I want to know is why.
What's the motive?

As a matter of fact,
I invented the combustion engine

and the two-way nappy.
I'm a hero of the Soviet Union,

I wear the Order of Lenin on my rump.

I'm a man, you fool.
Don't you understand?

A plain, simple, muddled,
fatheaded human being.

We have them in the West, you know.
That's what it's all about.

Is that why you became a spy?

Look, your job and mine
permit us to take human life.

If I want to kill you, and I can only do it
by putting a bomb in a restaurant,

then that's the way I'll kill you.
That's what I'll do.

Innocent people die every day.
They might as well do so for a reason.

Afterwards we may drop
a purely academic balance,

twenty men killed, fifteen women,
nine children

and an advance of three yards.

What about you?

If ever I have to break your neck,

I promise to do it
with a minimum of force.

- Now, when do I get my bloody money?
- Look, I could lie to you.

I could say you'll get your money
in a month, just to keep you sweet.

But I'm telling you, I don't know.
And that's the truth.

You have given us indications.

Until we have run them to Earth,
I can't think of letting you go.

But afterwards,
if things are as I think they are,

you'll need a friend.

You're bustling about bloody early.

Is Mundt back?

I want you to sign something.
The courier's waiting.

Letters to the banks
in Copenhagen and Helsinki

asking for a statement of any
recent withdrawals by your two partners.

The letters will be mailed
from Switzerland.

Where will the banks
send the statements?

To one of our accommodation
addresses in West Berlin.

Control will find out that I've written.

He'll have forgotten by the time
you next meet.

Will you sign with your aliases, please?

- Give me the pad.
- Here you are.

The Copenhagen letter.

The Helsinki one's easier.
I wrote it in my own handwriting.

Now what?

Within a week
we should at least know the dates

when Rolling Stone was last
in Copenhagen and Helsinki

to draw the money.

Is Mundt back?

Not yet.

Until we hear from the banks,
there's nothing more we can do.

We shall be constantly
in one another's company.

If that's distasteful to you, I apologise.

I thought we could go for walks again
or drive around in the hills for a bit

while we talked.

Incidentally,

we have some facilities here for people,

for people who are spending
some time with us.

Facilities for diversion and so on.

You offering me a woman?

I don't need one.

You had one in England, didn't you?
The girl in the library?

Oh, yes, yes.
She was a communist, too.

She believed in free love.
At the time it was all I could afford.

- Good morning, Mr Lofthouse.
- Good morning, Miss Perry.

You're at the "J's" already.

You are settling down quickly.

I was so very happy the job fell vacant.

We're very happy you applied for it.

- Good morning, Miss Crail.
- Good morning, Miss Perry.

- Miss Crail.
- Yes, Miss Perry?

Would it be possible
for me to take my holiday now?

I've been invited
to spend a week in Germany.

You have friends in Germany?

No, not exactly friends. Comrades.

You know,
I'm secretary of the local branch...

I've never held that against you,
Miss Perry.

- This is a free country.
- I know. I know, and I'm very grateful.

Well, the Party centre
has arranged a series of exchanges

to promote cultural amity
and world peace.

And I've been chosen to exchange with
the secretary of the Neuenhagen branch

outside Leipzig.

Isn't Leipzig east, behind the Curtain?

I should very much like
to go, Miss Crail.

I'll speak to Brigadier Blantyre,

but I think I'd better
just tell him Germany,

not East.

He doesn't hold with the Russians.

Thank you.

Blonde or brunette?

- Do you know Mundt?
- We have talked about him.

He shoots first
and asks questions afterwards.

The deterrent principle.

It's an odd system in a profession
where the questions

are always supposed to be
more important than the shootings.

An odd system, unless
you are frightened of the answers.

- That telephone call.
- Yes, what about it?

The money in Copenhagen.
The bank answered your letter.

The manager's very worried
that there's been a mistake.

The money was drawn by your partner
exactly one week after you paid it in.

The date it was drawn coincides
with a two-day's visit

Mundt paid to Copenhagen in April.

The same goes for the bank in Helsinki.
Mundt took the money from there, too.

You're out of your bloody mind.

I've told you again and again
they couldn't have done it.

London couldn't have run him as
their man without my knowing about it.

You're trying to tell me that Control
was personally directing and operating

the head of counter-espionage
in the Abteilung

without the knowledge
of the Berlin station?

Well, I'm telling you, you're mad!

Shut up and drive us home.

You've driven us home, Leamas.
Mundt is a traitor.

I tell you,
they eased his escape from England.

I tell you, London let him go
because you wanted him to go!

- They found him, bribed him, turned...
- I tell you, they couldn't have done it!

Control couldn't have run him
without my knowledge. You're mad!

Don't tell me you're that sorry
to kill Mundt.

I suppose you ought to write
to the banks

and tell them
everything is quite in order.

- Comrade Fiedler.
- Yes?

We want to talk to you.

- What do you want?
- We are from Berlin.

Go to your room.

Come in.

Close the door.

Undo him.

Get up.

Take him upstairs.

Whisky?

London sent you, didn't they?

- Where's Fiedler?
- Under arrest, as you are,

for conspiring to sabotage
the security of the people.

You'll be a witness at his trial.
We shall want your confession.

That means you don't have any proof.

We shall have proof.
We shall have your confession.

Who sent you? Control?

- Smiley?
- No one sent me.

They're looking for me, don't you know?

When did you last see Smiley?

I've never met Smiley.

Where did you go
after lunch with Ashe?

Chelsea?

I don't have the vaguest recollection.

I had two Scotches and
half a bottle of punishing Greek wine.

- AII I remember is wandering about...
- In a taxi.

Was I in a taxi?

Our men reported
you took a taxi outside the restaurant.

Where did you go in the taxi?

I told you, I was too drunk to know
that I was in the bloody taxi.

I mean, if your man followed me,
why don't you ask him?

Did you go to Smiley's house
in Chelsea?

I don't... I don't know Smiley.

Why did you shake off your followers?

Why were you so keen
on shaking them off?

Hans-Dieter Mundt,
I have a warrant for your arrest

by order of the Presidium
of the German Democratic Republic.

You all know why we're here.

This is not a trial, but a tribunal
convened expressly by the Presidium.

And it is to the Presidium alone
that we are responsible.

The proceedings therefore
will be secret.

We shall hear evidence as we think fit.

Comrade Fiedler, you may begin.

You can see from the report
I've already given you

that we ourselves
sought Leamas out in England,

induced him to defect,
and finally brought him to our Republic.

Nothing could more clearly demonstrate
the impartiality of Leamas than this,

that he still refuses,
for reasons I will explain,

to believe that Mundt is a British agent.

It is therefore grotesque to suggest
that Leamas is a plant.

The initiative was ours.

Slightly fragmentary
but vital evidence of Leamas

provides only the final proof
in a long chain of indications

reaching back over many years.

You will see on Page 7 that in 1959

Mundt was posted to London

ostensibly as a member
of the East German Steel Mission.

Actually, he was engaged
in intelligence duties.

In the course of these, he killed a man.

By doing so, he exposed himself

to countermeasures
by the British secret police.

Since he had
no diplomatic immunity, for NATO,

Britain doesn't recognise
our sovereignty,

Mundt went into hiding.

Ports were watched.
His photograph and description

were distributed
throughout the British Isles.

Yet, after two days in hiding,

Mundt takes a taxi to London airport
and flies to Berlin.

Brilliant, you'll say. And so it was.

With the whole of Britain's
police force alerted,

her roads, railways, ship and air routes
under constant surveillance,

Mundt, in British eyes
a dangerous political murderer,

takes a plane from London airport
and flies to Berlin.

Brilliant, indeed!

Or perhaps you may feel, Comrades,
with the advantage of hindsight,

that Mundt's escape from Britain
was a little too brilliant,

a little too easy.

That without the connivance
of the British authorities,

it never could have been possible at all.

The truth is this.
Mundt was taken prisoner by the British

and released on condition
that he become their paid agent.

It is beyond all doubt that he was paid

through the medium of the banking
operation called Rolling Stone,

whose procedure we'll see fully
described in "Annexe A" to the report.

Leamas played an unwitting part
in this operation.

Bring the witness forward, please.

- What is your name?
- Alec Leamas, assistant librarian.

You were formerly employed by the
British Secret Service, were you not?

Yes.

Is it your opinion that they could
have recruited Mundt as their agent?

No. It is not.

How can you be so sure?

I've told you a dozen times.
I'm not a performing seal.

I was head of the Berlin section
for nine years.

If Mundt had been our agent,
I'd have known about it.

I'd have run him. Don't you see?

Not to know would be
an administrative impossibility.

Quite.

In 1960, you had in your capacity
as Berlin Station Head

approached and recruited
the late Karl Riemeck,

- formerly secretary to this Presidium.
- He approached me.

With microphotographs
of secret Presidium documents?

Yes.

Was his later work for you
equally spectacular?

More so. He gave us a complete
breakdown of the Abteilung.

Control was delighted.

Control was so delighted

that he actually came over to Berlin
to meet Riemeck.

- Did you approve of this?
- No.

Riemeck was my man.
Control should have left him to me.

That was the rule. Control broke it.

You introduced them,
but were not present at the meeting.

That is correct.

- And they were entirely alone.
- How should I know? I wasn't there.

What do you think
Control said to Riemeck?

Well, he wanted to thank him.
So he told me to give him a medal.

Mutual admiration.

Can you tell the tribunal
how Riemeck obtained his information?

I never bothered to ask.

Then you may sit down,
and I will tell them.

Who, in 1960...

The year after Mundt
escaped from England, remember?

Who co-opted Riemeck
onto the committee

for the protection of the people?

That vital committee which
coordinates all our security measures?

Who proposed that Riemeck should be
appointed secretary to the Presidium

with access to all its secrets?

Who, at every stage
in Riemeck's career since 1960

has singled him out for posts
of exceptional responsibility?

The same man
who was uniquely placed

to shield Riemeck
in his espionage activities.

Hans-Dieter Mundt.

Mundt, by deliberately raising Riemeck
to higher and higher posts,

made it possible for him
to amass all that information

which he passed on to Leamas.

Mundt, Riemeck, Leamas, Control.
That was the chain of communication.

But Leamas never knew,

for it is a rule in the intelligence
technique the whole world over

that each link of the chain
be kept as far as possible

in ignorance of the others.

Leamas never knew
that Mundt was London's man.

Then why did Mundt kill Riemeck

if Riemeck and he
were both working for the British?

He had no alternative.

Riemeck was already
under our suspicion.

If I'd been given the chance
to interrogate him,

I could have incriminated Mundt.

But I was not allowed to interrogate him.
Mundt shot him.

He killed the bird before it could sing.

Had it not been
for the defection of Leamas,

Mundt might be practising
his treachery still!

There is your saboteur,
there is your terrorist!

There's the man
who has sold the peoples' right.

When you come to give
your recommendation to the Presidium,

do not shrink from recognising

the full bestiality of this traitor's crime.

For Hans-Dieter Mundt,
death is a judgement of mercy.

Comrade Karden,
you are speaking for Comrade Mundt.

You have heard the accusations
of Comrade Fiedler.

Do you wish to examine
the witness Leamas?

Yes, I should like to in one moment.

One moment.

The contention of Comrade Mundt
is that Leamas is Iying,

and that Comrade Fiedler,
either by design or ill chance,

has been drawn into a plot
to disrupt the Abteilung

and thus bring into disrepute

the organs for the defence
of our people's democracy.

We do not dispute
that Karl Riemeck was a British spy.

There is evidence for that.

But we do dispute
that Mundt was in league with him.

And we dispute that Mundt accepted
money for betraying our democracy.

For these charges, we say
that there is no objective evidence.

And that Comrade Fiedler
is intoxicated by dreams of power

and blinded to rational thought.

We maintain
that Leamas was dismissed

from the British Secret Service

so that he should exhibit
those symptoms

of physical and moral decline
which would deceive our London agents

into thinking
he was a potential defector.

But we also maintain that once
our London agents had contacted him,

he was used by Control as a weapon,

indeed, as a spearhead

in Control's plot
to incriminate Comrade Mundt.

But Comrade Fiedler,

on whose ambitions
the British so accurately counted,

accepted the evidence as true,

and thus became party
to a monstrous plot

to destroy, to murder, in fact.

For Mundt now stands to lose his life.

One of the most vigilant defenders
of our Democratic Republic.

I said vigilant, Comrades,

for do you really suppose
that all this time

Comrade Mundt has been in ignorance
of Fiedler's feverish plotting?

It was Mundt
who took one crucial precaution

while the British, with Fiedler's aid,
planned his murder.

He caused scrupulous inquiries
to be made about the witness Leamas.

He was looking, you see,
for one minute human error

in a scheme of almost
superhuman subtlety.

Now, Mr Leamas.

Let us see whether we can assist
Comrade Mundt in his search.

Do you still refuse to tell us
where the taxi took you

after your lunch with Ashe?

I don't refuse, I don't remember.
I was too drunk.

- Not too drunk to pay the taxi?
- Too drunk to remember.

But you paid. I wonder what with?

Whatever small change
I had in my pocket.

I'm like that when I'm drunk.

Are you a man of means?

Now, don't be bloody silly, you know
I was broke when Ashe picked me up.

Except for your taxi money.

If you say so.

Then, now that you have paid your taxi,

we may take it that you have
no money at all.

Until you pay me
for my services, you may.

You cannot imagine
that some kindly benefactor,

someone perhaps you've almost
forgotten about,

would ever concern himself
with a donation to your next of kin

or settling with your creditors.
Some friend?

I haven't got any friends.

Do you know George Smiley?

Mundt asked me that.

- You're being asked it again.
- I knew of him. I never met him.

He was not a close friend of yours?

I never met him.
I haven't got any friends.

Thank you.

Is that all?

Yes, that is all.

You see, we, too, have a witness.

Alec?

Let the witness come forward.

Alec?

What is your name, child?

What is your name?

Nancy Perry.

You are a member
of the British Communist Party?

- Yes.
- Leave her alone!

If he moves again, take him out.
He can speak later, if he wishes.

Nancy,

have you been told in the Party
of the need for discipline?

Today, the reason for this tribunal
will be a secret from you.

You will have to answer questions
without knowing why they're asked.

But who's on trial?

It can make no difference to you
who is accused.

It is a guarantee of your impartiality
that you do not know.

Is it Alec? Is it Leamas?

Look at me, child.

If you wish to go home,
look only at who questions you.

If there is communication of any sort
between the two witnesses,

the man, Leamas, will be taken
from the court and dealt with.

Comrade Karden, do you wish
to question your witness?

Alec Leamas was your lover, wasn't he?

Yes.

Have you had many lovers, Nancy?

- Karden, why don't you...
- Alec, don't! They'll take you away.

Yes, they will.

Have you any savings?

- A little.
- How much?

A few pounds. My salary's pretty small.

How small?

£11.

How much is your rent?

£3.10.

Then why haven't you been paying it?

Why haven't you been paying it?

- I own the lease.
- You own a lease?

Oh, I mean,

I mean that someone bought it
and sent it to me.

- Who?
- I don't know.

It came from a bank, a bank
in the city called Blatt and Rodney.

They said that some charity had done it.

What charity?

I don't know.

How much was the lease?

£1,000.

Are you accustomed
to receiving anonymous gifts

of £1,000 from charities?

From lovers?

From Leamas?

I thought...

I thought it might have come from him.

But Leamas has already told us
that he has no money, only debts.

No, I mean,

I mean from a friend of his.

Which friend?

I don't know.

Did anyone get into touch with you
after Leamas disappeared?

No.

- Think!
- No.

- A friend of Leamas'?
- No.

A man with a moustache
and spectacles?

Your house was watched, Nancy.
Who was he?

A lover? A casual lover like Leamas?

- Alec wasn't a casual lover.
- But he gave you money.

Did this man give you money, too?
Who was he?

He said he was a friend,
a friend of Alec's.

He wanted me to get in touch with him.

How? How were you to get
in touch with him?

He left a card.

- What was his name?
- I don't know.

- It was a blank card?
- No. It...

- What was the name on the card?
- I don't know,

- I don't remember.
- What was the name on the card?

Smiley. George Smiley.

Smiley was indeed Leamas' friend.

He was also a planner
in the section called Satellites 4,

which operates behind the Iron Curtain.

It was to Smiley's Chelsea house

that Leamas took the taxi
after lunching with Ashe.

And the plot to incriminate
Comrade Mundt was set in motion.

The plot has failed.

All right, Karden, let her go.

She knows nothing, nothing at all.

Get her out of here. Get her home,
I'll tell you the rest...

- She cannot leave the court until...
- She knows nothing, I tell you!

She cannot leave the court.

Karden is right.

It was an operation,

an operation planned by London
in which I was to pose as a defector

and give evidence to Fiedler
that would hang Mundt.

We counted on Fiedler, I must admit.
We counted on his hatred for Mundt.

Why the hell shouldn't he hate Mundt?
Mundt hates him.

As for the girl, she's nothing
but a frustrated little thing

from a crackpot library.

She's no good to you, send her home.

What are you talking about, Leamas?
Are you mad?

Are you out of your mind?

- Don't you realise what you're saying?
- Comrade Fiedler.

Save the girl! Save the Jews!
Save my Christian soul!

Don't you realise what he has done?

He's saved Mundt,
and Mundt is London's man!

Comrade Fiedler will be held in custody.

The hearing is closed.

The tribunal will make its report
to the Presidium.

Comrade Mundt is reinstated.

The man Leamas and the girl
are under arrest.

- So, Fiedler was right.
- Yes.

- Where's the girl?
- By the car.

You hit the main road.
After 20 kilometres turn right.

As you enter Berlin,
you'll pass a signpost to Potsdam.

Turn right again. Go for four kilometres.
The road is quite straight.

When you reach the canal
turn left and follow the water

until you see three lights
hanging on a diversion sign.

The boy will meet you there.

He's quite young,
but he knows the Wall.

You'll never get away with it, you know.

What will they find in the morning?
Empty cells, Leamas.

Open doors, escaped prisoners,
a car missing.

There's a conspiracy, you know.

I shall have to find the guilty ones,
the accomplices.

You know where I shall find them?

Amongst Fiedler's friends.

Conspirators. Scum.

Drive carefully. Goodbye, Leamas.

Thank you, Alec.
Why is he letting us go?

He's letting us go
because we've done our job.

Come on, get in.

- We haven't much time.
- For what?

- Time to get to Berlin, to the Wall.
- The Berlin Wall?

You and Mundt are enemies, aren't you?

What bargain
did you make with him, Alec?

What's going to happen to Fiedler?

He'll be shot.

Why didn't they shoot you? You
conspired with Fiedler against Mundt.

You said so in court.

Why did Mundt let you go?

All right, I'll tell you.

I'll tell you what you were never,
never to know.

Mundt is London's man,
he's their agent.

They bought him
while he was in England.

We're witnessing the lousy end
to a filthy, lousy operation

to save Mundt's skin.

To save him from a clever little Jew
in Mundt's own department

who'd begun to suspect the truth.

London made us kill him,

kill the Jew.

Now you know.

And God help us both.

We wait here.

Why did Mundt let me go?
I'm a risk to him now.

As you said, it was a bargain.
No you, no me.

What was my part in all this?
I want to know.

You were a pawn in the plot.

London knew it was no good
just killing Fiedler.

If he'd been killed, people would have
started asking by whom and why.

Maybe he'd told friends
he suspected Mundt,

maybe he'd left notes,
incriminating notes.

London had to eliminate suspicion.

Public rehabilitation,
that's what they organised for Mundt.

I was sent to discredit him,
you were sent to discredit me.

And love?

We made it very easy for them.

They used us.

They cheated us both
because it was necessary.

Fiedler was nearly home already.

If it hadn't been for us,
Mundt would have been killed.

They were bloody clever.

All the way down the line,
they were bloody clever.

Clever? They were foul!

How can you
turn the world upside-down?

- What rules are you playing?
- There's only one rule, expediency.

Mundt gives London what it needs,
so Fiedler dies, and Mundt lives.

It was a foul, foul operation,
but it paid off.

Who for?

What the hell do you think spies are?

Moral philosophers
measuring everything they do

against the word of God or Karl Marx?
They're not.

They're just a bunch of seedy,
squalid bastards like me.

Little men, drunkards, queers,
henpecked husbands,

civil servants playing cowboys
and Indians

to brighten their rotten little lives.

Do you think they sit like monks
in a cell, balancing right against wrong?

Yesterday I would have killed Mundt,

because I thought him
evil and an enemy,

but not today.

Today he's evil and my friend.
London needs him.

They need him so that the great
moronic masses you admire so much

can sleep soundly
in their flea-bitten beds again.

They need him for the safety

of ordinary, crummy people
like you and me.

You killed Fiedler!

How big does the cause have to be,
before you kill your friends?

What about your Party?

There's a few million bodies
on that path.

There is a moving searchlight beamed
onto the Wall where you are to climb.

Now, your signal to go will be
when the beam stops.

As you near the Wall, they will move
the searchlight off that area

to conceal you from outside observation
by other detachments.

Haven't the flanking detachments
been briefed?

No, no. Only the guard in this sector.

It would be too dangerous
to arouse too much curiosity.

Here, go slowly, please.

And it's the next on the left.

Here, stop.

Go through that small door.
At the far end, you will see the Wall.

First, there's a barbed-wire fence.

There's a handkerchief to show you
where you can go under.

The detachment have placed the
emergency climbing irons in the Wall

to a height where you can stand,
pull yourself and the lady over the top.

- Through barbed wire?
- It has been cut.

If anything goes wrong,
if you fall or get hurt, don't turn back.

They shoot on sight
within the area of the Wall.

You must get over.

Your friends will be waiting for you
on the far side. Good luck.

- Thank you.
- Go on.

Don't look back, Nan. Climb. Climb!

- Nan!
- Jump, Alec!

Jump, man!

Jump, man!

Mr Leamas. Go back, please.

To your own side, Mr Leamas.