All language subtitles for The German Woman

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Don't move.

What?

Wait.

Oh, don't.

I look terrible.

You look...

Beautiful.

[Click]

[Click]

[Piano playing]

That's much better, William.

That was very good.

Thank you,
Mr. Kramer.

Now I want you
to practice
this section

down to "g" for next week...

And the scales, yes?

Right.

[Piano playing]

[Footsteps]

[Knocking on door]

Policeman:
Thomas Kramer?

Yes.

I'm afraid I'm gonna
have to ask you
to come with us.

Thomas:
What? Where?

Woman: Thomas,
what is it?

You're being interned
as enemy aliens

under the defense regulations

and aliens order act of 1920.

Man: You came to england
in 1938.

You have a "b"
registration--

restricted movement.

Woman: Thomas!

Thomas: Elsie!

Man: You have
relatives in Germany.

Thomas: Yes.

You're aware,
Mr. Kramer,

that "b" registration
forbids the possession
and use of a camera?

It wasn't our camera.

It belongs to my nephew.

His name is mark Andrews.

He's in the army.

He's stationed in aldershot.

Man: Where
did you get that
information?

He told us.

Thomas: I was not
photographing a ship.

I was photographing my wife.

We have the film,
Mr. Kramer.

There's definitely a ship.

I didn't see it.

Man: When
do you put out
your washing,

Mrs. Kramer?

Clothes on a washing line.

The first sighting
made by an enemy
aircraft

approaching from the South.

Are you making a signal?

Can you explain this?

I sent this to my friend

in Boston in America.

How did you get it?

What are those symbols?

They're chess symbols.

I play chess.

I want to speak to my husband.

Thomas: I am
a Professor of music.

I am not a spy.

I was sponsored in this country

by the society
for the protection
of science and learning.

And now I want to go home.

[Door closes]

Man:
Head to the left.

Turn to the right.

[Guards talking]

Move along!

I didn't do anything.

Thomas: Elsie!

Thomas!

This way, please.

[Gasping]

Thank you, sir.

Man: The answer
is no, foyle,

and this time it's final.

This is, what,
your fourth request?

I just feel that
in the circumstances,

I could be doing
something a little
more relevant

to the war effort.

Yes. That's
very commendable.

Not even as if I'm doing

my actual job anymore.

Pen pushing, blackouts,
traffic patrols--

you don't need me for that.

Look. I need you
where you are, foyle.

You're a first-class
police officer.

Crime rate has
just about halved.

That may be the case
in Hastings,

but per head of
the population,
it's rising.

Larceny, breaking and entering,

civil offenses,

and murder.

Has it crossed your mind

that we're training
half the country
how to kill?

Huh?

What's the effect
of that gonna be?

Warsaw, Prague--

there are murders every day.

That doesn't concern you or me.

Even if there was
a murder to be
investigated,

I haven't got the men
to cover it.

Most of them have enlisted.

My sergeant, for example,

is somewhere in the north sea.

It's the same for all of us.

Last month alone,
we lost 3 chief
constables--

all enlisted men.

I'm wasting my time
on the South coast.

I want to be transferred.

Request refused.

Thank you for seeing me.

Sit down, foyle.
I haven't finished yet.

So what are you
working on
at the moment?

Something for
the ministry of labor.

Well, the only item
of relevance

that's come out of
this conversation,

as far as I can see,

is that there's
a shortage of
personnel.

We need to find you
a new sergeant.

I'll make that a priority.

Oh, I understand
you don't drive.

I've never heard of
a chief superintendent

who can't drive, but still...

I've managed to arrange

a personal driver for you.

Name is Stewart.

Pulled out
of the m.T.C.

It's a bit unorthodox, I know,

but it's the best we could do.

Thank you.

That's all.

And I don't want to see

any more of these requests.

You know, foyle,

if you weren't
so damned obstinate,

you'd see that I'm
actually on your side.

You do a good job.

No telling where you might be

once the war's over.

It'll depend on
who wins, I suppose.

[Door closes]

[Doorbell rings]

Man:
He's my Uncle, sir.

His name is Thomas Kramer.

He come
to this country
two years ago.

He was the leader of
the philharmonic
orchestra in vienna.

Really?

He had to leave
because he spoke out

against what they're
doing over there,

you know--
the Jewish musicians
and Jewish composers

forced out of work
and all that.

It's a very unfortunate
situation, yes.

They've put him in a camp.

It's not even a camp.

It's a converted factory.

They've put him in
with out-and-out
Nazis,

the very people he
came to escape from.

Andrews, I'm not quite certain

what you think
I can do for you.

Well, sir,

seeing as how
I worked for you...

And you being
the local magistrate,

well...

You must know people.

No, I'm afraid not.

There are proper
authorities, you see,

to deal with this
sort of thing,

and I have nothing
to do with them.

Your Uncle and aunt
have been categorized
as enemy aliens,

and that's how it has to be.

On the other hand,

I'm sure they'll be
very well-treated.

My aunt is dead, sir.

She was 63,
and she had
a heart attack.

They let her die.

I'm so sorry,

but as I've already explained,

there's nothing I can do.

Nothing?

I'm afraid not.
I'm sorry.

But your wife is German.

What?

It's true, isn't it?

My wife is
from the sudetenland,

but that has got
nothing to do with you.

And why wasn't she interned?

I'll thank you
to leave my wife
out of this.

How dare you come here

and put these
questions to me
in this fashion?

I just want to
get my Uncle home.

There's nothing I can do,

and that's all there is to it.

Now I think you'd better go.

[Door closes]

[Car horn honks]

Woman: Michael.

Hello, darling.

Mmm.
Mmm.

How's my gorgeous girl?

Oh, much better
now you're here.

How was the drive?

Oh, long...
But worth it.

How are "m" and "p"?

Oh, pretty grisly.

Have you checked into the bell?

No, not yet.

I don't suppose
there's any chance...

You know what daddy's like.

Woman:
Who was that?

What?

The young soldier
I saw just now.

That is
mark Andrews--

underkeeper here--
or he used to be.

He looked angry.

Yes. I wasn't able
to help him.

Help him what?

Oh, it doesn't matter.

Did I hear someone arrive?

Michael's here.

Good.

Then we can have lunch.

Mmm.

Michael:
It's hell in London.

Everyone's blaming
everyone else
about Norway.

They say Churchill
misjudged the whole thing.

Oh, do they?

Tell me, how long
are you able to
stay down here?

They gave me a couple of days.

Oh, good, good.

Are you staying at the bell?

Yeah.

Does he really have to, daddy?

Sarah, don't start that again.

I'm perfectly
happy at the bell.

Really, I am.

So...

What have you been
doing in London,

Michael?

In your free time?

Well, I don't get
a lot of free time,

greta.

No?

Why are you always
picking on him?

Michael's working
as hard as anybody.

I wasn't picking on him.

You're always
insinuating something.

Sarah!

At least someone in this house

is doing something
for the war effort.

What did I say?
Did I say
anything?

It's all right.

No. It's not
all right.

I won't have you
talking to greta
like that.

Well, I just wish

if she had something
against Michael,

she could come out and say it.

Or is it about the money again?

[Clank]

That's enough!

You always take her side.

I'm not taking sides.

I just expect a little
civilized behavior.

When this is your house,

you may do as you like,

but until then...

Oh, circulate
the wine, will you?

[Knock on door]

Come in.

Chief superintendent foyle?

Yes.

[Door closes]

I've been
assigned to you
as your new driver.

Oh.

Uh, Stewart?

Samantha Stewart, sir.

You can call me Sam.

Stewart: I was hoping
to get into the w.A.A.F.,

but I ended up
in the m.T.C.

Foyle: Oh.

The mechanized transport corps.

I was assigned
to the ministry
of aircraft production,

but then they said
they were looking
for someone

with a knowledge
of the South downs.

Hmm. I see.

And you have
a knowledge of
the, uh, South downs?

Oh, yes. Yes.

I was born in lyminster,

just outside arundel.

My father is
actually the vicar
at St. Stephen's.

Do you know it?

Uh, no. No.

No, I don't suppose
there's any reason
why you should.

Anyway, it's not much fun

being the vicar's
daughter--

on your best behavior
all the time.

Personally, I couldn't wait

for the war to come along.

Chance to get out.

So...

Very unusual
for a ranking officer

to be assigned
a driver outside
the force.

Yes.

Yes. That's
what I said
when they told me,

but they said
they couldn't get
anyone else, so...

Man: Thank you, sir.

Here I am.

Right.

Stewart: So what are
you investigating?

I hope it's
something juicy--

a spy ring
or a nice grisly
murder.

I think we should
get something straight

right from the very beginning.

You don't ask me
what I'm doing.

You don't ask me
what I'm investigating.

You simply take me
to where I want to go.

Is that understood?

Whatever you say.

Good.

Foyle: If you
just wait here...

Thank you.

How long will you be?

Are you meeting someone?

Excuse me.
Did you not
understand

what I've just been, uh...

What?

Never mind.

Just, uh, wait here, will you?

Mr. foyle?

That's right.

Do you have the money?

�150.

You know, I should have thought

you were a bit old
to worry about
being called up.

Well, it's not me.
It's my son.

Ah.

He's, uh, 23.

I don't want him to go.

He doesn't have to.

Good.

Uh, so...
How does it work?

You give me his particulars,

and his call-up
papers get mislaid.

After that, he doesn't exist.

There's no comeback.

That's the way
the system works.

I see.

And, um, I understand

you're a civil servant?

Perhaps I am.

And I, uh,
I don't know
your name.

Why do you want to know?

Well, �150 is a lot of money.

Um, how do I know
I'm ever gonna
see you again?

My name's Keegan.

You can check me out
at the Brighton office.

All right?

Yeah. Well, um,
my name's foyle,

detective chief
superintendent foyle,

and I'm placing you
under arrest--

ugh!

Aah!

Sam?

Yes, sir.

Thank you.

[Piano playing]

Man: A black gnat.

Not even close.

It's a classic iron blue.

It was a complete waste of time

teaching you any of this,

wasn't it, really?

How are you, dad?

Ah.

There's bugger all
in the larder.

Well, there was
bugger all indication,
Andrew,

that you were coming home.

How long are you gonna be here?

A couple of days.

Eh! When did you
get this?

Andrew, don't--

look. We can eat out
if you want.

No. I've been stuck
on buses and trains
all day.

It's good to be home.

Good.

And how's Oxford?

Mmm.
It's not the same.

The town's crawling
with refugees,

evacuees, and all
the rest of it.

And the colleges are empty.

They're dumping
a maternity hospital
in ruskin.

Well, that's something
to look forward to--

lots of pretty nurses.

At least...

It would be
if I was still there.

You've left?

You're not going back?

I've had my orders.

Oh.

You know I've been
flying weekends

with the volunteers.

Pretty old crates, but...

It's been fun.

Well, now it's the real thing.

I see. Right.

I should have told you.

I was going to write.

Then I was going to call.

In the end,
I came down
to tell you myself.

And where are you
gonna be based?

I'm not allowed to tell you.

It's a drome just outside

some godawful place
you never heard of

up in Russia.

Scotland.

3 months' training.

Then I suppose
I'll be flying ops.

I'm sorry, dad.

No, no. I, uh...

You shouldn't be.

I'm proud of you.
I really am, but, um...

So when do you have to leave?

Saturday.

There's
a 2:00 train.

Oh, that's all right, then.

Then we can, uh,

go down to the river, then, eh?

Ha. You
and the iron blue?

Absolutely.

I'd like that.

Well, you're a bloody liar,

but you'll come anyway.

Dad.

Yeah?

Good to see you.

Hmm.

Foyle: Right.
I want a complete list

of everyone you had
dealings with,

all the papers you
managed to mislay,

and since you
obviously weren't
working alone,

a list of all the people

who were working with you.

I take it you
weren't advertising

in the local gazette.

So, uh, how did you
find your clients,
Mr. Keegan?

Well, how did people
find out about you

and about what you
could do for anyone

who didn't want
to be called up?

Right. You don't
want to say anything?

That's absolutely fine.

Now I just
hand your file over
to the military police.

They can deal with you.

Foyle: Treason
in a time of war.

They'll hang you.

Keegan:
There's a man
called judd...

Ian judd.

Man on radio:
I have had German
friends in the past,

and I hope that I may live

to have a German friend
or two again one day.

Over there, Tracey.

Right, Mr. judd.

Radio: And I hate to
have to say it,

but say it I will.

Be careful at this moment

how you put complete
trust in any person

of German or Austrian
connections.

If you should know
any people of this kind

who are still at large...

Turn it off!

They don't know
what they're
talking about,

the bastards.

They don't know a bloody thing!

Language.

They've got it right,
if you ask me.

We don't want
that lot over here.

What?

Germans.
Fifth column--

that's what they call them.

That's just
what happened
in Norway,

isn't it?

That's right.

They sit here
all nice and quiet,

pretending to be our friends,

but when their real
mates march in...

So if a German walked in here,

you wouldn't serve him?

I'd show them the door.

And what if it was
Mrs. beaumont...

From the manor?

She's different.

But she's German.

What point are you
trying to make?

She's German,

but no one complains about her.

If she came in here,
you'd serve her a drink

and kowtow like
the rest of them.

But for all you know,

she could be signaling
her friends in Berlin

right now.

She's Mr. beaumont's
wife.

She's still a bloody German!

I'll have another one.

I think
you've had enough.
Go on.

Better get home.

You wait and see.

When the bombs start falling,

we'll see who
the real enemy is.

Tracey: Don't forget

I've got to go home
early today,
Mr. judd.

Do the blackout first.

I don't want your dad
giving us a fight.

Nice to see you again,
Mr. Turner.

Room for the night, is it?

Two nights.

Same room as usual?

Any room will do.

That's, uh,
7 shillings a night.

Plus you owe me
for a couple
of weeks.

You know, judd,

one day you're gonna
push me too far.

Oh, just
rendering a service,
Mr. Turner.

Thank you.

Hey, Terry.

Ray!

Um...

Can I--can I
walk you home?

Yeah.

If you want.

All right.

I'm thinking about joining up.

Are you?

Mmm.

Dad doesn't want me to.

He says he needs me
in the shop.

You'll get called up anyway.

Ah.

I want to join now.

Look.

Would you miss me?

You know, if I went?

Of course I would.

What sort of question is that?

Terry, would you miss me?

You know I would.

Ha ha ha!

I'd miss you.

Ray, what are you
going on about?

You know how I feel about you.

Ohh.

Well, I've got to go.

No. Wait.

Man: What's
going on here?

It's all right, dad.

It's only ray.

What about my tea, then?

All right.

I'll see you tomorrow, then.

Right.

Come on.

I'll be back in one hour.

You be careful.

[Greta giggles]

Tell that to the horse.

Good morning, doctor.

Groves?

Do you think that's wise?

What?

Her riding
round the country
like that.

She's supposed to be ill.

I think greta can
look after herself.

That wasn't what
you said to me once,

and it wasn't just me.

I wasn't the only one
to stick my neck out.

May I come in?

I need to powder my nose.

Good afternoon.
Mr. judd?

Who wants to know?

The name's foyle.
I'm a police officer.

Oh, yeah?

I wouldn't mind a word
if you've got a minute.

Hold on.

Tracey, we're out of the mild.

Yes, Mr. judd.

I understand you
know a man called
Robert Keegan.

Bob.

Yeah, I met him once or twice.

What about him?

You were in business together?

No.

He drinks here.

I've poured him a pint.

That's the only
business we've ever had.

Oh.

That's not quite what he says.

[Siren]

Stewart: Sir!

It's got to be a false alarm,

hasn't it?

Man: German!
Get under cover!

Can't you hear?

Come on.

[Screaming]

Get down!

Ohh.

Oh, God.

Foyle: Poor girl.

All right.

I hope you're
pleased with yourself.

If you hadn't
come here asking
bloody questions,

I wouldn't have
needed to send
Tracey outside.

Can I take that?
Thank you.

Here we are, then.
Have a sip of that.

It's all right.
It's not broken.

This will just
stop the bleeding.

That's a very good job.

They taught us
basic first aid
in the m.T.C.

My instructor always said

he'd rather bleed to death

than be bandaged by me.

Oh.

Was it a raid?

No, a single plane, evidently,

maybe lost
on its way home--

where is she?

Judd: Ray, you
can't come in now.

Where is she?

Not now.
I want to see her!

Groves: Stop it.
Ray, stop it!

Ray, she's not here.

I'm afraid
she's dead.
Oh!

She was killed by the bomb.

Terry?

Sorry, ray.

Don't you give me that.

She shouldn't even
have been here,

and you knew!
You bloody knew!

The loss is on you,
Mr. judd.

I know all about you,

and I told her.
I told her.

All right.
That's enough.
That's enough.

It's ok.

She was my best girl.

We're very sorry.
Where do you live?

In the village.

Well, I think
you should be at home.

Take him home, Sam.

That's the best place for you.

Come on.

Man: I don't
understand it.

I just don't understand it.

If they're gonna drop a bomb...

Why here?

And my Tracey...

Ray: I'm sorry,
Mr. Stephens.

I'm so sorry.

They said it was
just one plane--

just one plane.

Those Germans.

Those bloody, bloody Germans.

I hate them, too.

If I could get
my hands on them,

if I could get
my hands on just
one of them...

Andrews: I went
to see beaumont--

Henry beaumont.

I used to work for him.

I thought he would help.

Why would he help?

His wife is German.

I haven't seen her here.

She wasn't interned.

They've interned
everyone between
the ages of 16 and 60

living within
a 5-mile radius
of the coast.

Is she...61?

I don't think so.

Elsie was 63.

I shouldn't have
left my camera.

We weren't allowed
to have a camera.

[Chuckles]

I am sorry.

They say that
I can petition
the appeals tribunal

and they may release me,

but they also say
there's a long
waiting list--

5 or 6 months.

They're bastards!

It makes me wonder which side

I'm fighting for.

Mark, mark, mark!

You're fighting
for the right side.

All this--
it's because of the war.

It's not their fault.

And Elsie?

It happened...

[Sighs]

And worse things will happen.

This is only the very start.

Are you gonna be all right?

They're treating me well.

The food is good.

We have a chess club,

our own newspaper.

You have no idea
how many
intellectuals

they have
locked up here--

poets and writers and artists.

And Nazis.

And those, too.

It's still not right.

I mean, you've done
nothing wrong.

You shouldn't be here.

Mark, there's
nothing you can do.

We'll see about that.

I wouldn't be doing this
for just anybody,
you know?

What is it?

Glenlivet.

The last bottle.

I mean, you can
still get them
in shops,

but it's very expensive now.

What will you do, dad?

What will I do?

Well, I was just
thinking about you

on your own in this place.

It's a pretty
big house to be
rattling around in.

No. I'll be
all right.

I mean, the way things are,

they'll probably
send me a family.

They can have your room.

Yeah, but I'll be
home on leave.

Well, you can share.

Ha.

A pilot, eh?
Your mum would
be proud.

She'd have been worried sick.

And I won't be?

You're not serious.

Well, you're right.

I don't see why
I should worry
about you.

It was me that got bombed.

Hmm.

A reminder, I suppose,
if I needed reminding,

of how important...

This is, what you're doing.

I mean, this war,
it--

it will be over by Christmas.

Well, maybe once
they know you're
in the air,

Hitler will run
for cover.
Hmm.

Saturday?
Still on for Saturday?

The river.

The river.

Well, you complained
about the larder.

You can help me fill it.

[Footsteps]

Thank you.

Thank you, Natalie.

She has asked to leave.

Oh, no. Why?

She didn't say.

She just doesn't
want to work
here anymore.

She joining up?

I don't think so.

This is very good.
What--what is it?

Turbot.

Rather exotic.

Yes, but you try
to get COD or haddock.

There is nothing in the shops,

and if there is,

12 ounces of sugar,

4 ounces of butter.

You've done very well.

I went into the village,

but it was as if nobody wanted

to serve me at all.

No. Well,
they wouldn't,
would they?

Turner:
Uh, there's a rumor

they're putting up petrol again

another penny, ha'penny.

It looks like
we're all gonna beer
have to starts.

Tightening our belts.

What did you mean
by that, Sarah?

Nothing.

Tell me.

Well, the village
was bombed today,

or didn't anyone tell you?

They told me.
Of course I know,

but that has nothing
to do for me.

With me.

Nothing to do with me.

Henry:
Hold on, hold on.

Why do you always have
to fight with me, always?

Why do I fight with you?

Well, greta, haven't
you noticed we all are?

You're the enemy.

You go and apologize.

Damn you.

Do it now.

[Sniffling]

I'm sorry.

You don't understand me.

Why have you never
understood me?

Is it because I am not English?

No.

Or because I married
your father?

I care for him, Sarah.

I care for both of you.

Then why are you
doing everything
you can

to spoil my happiness?

I have done nothing.

What about Michael?

Oh.

If you do
have something
against him,

I just wish you'd
tell me what it is.

I...

Don't trust him.

I don't think
he's right for you.

You think he's after my money?

Yes.

Well, perhaps that
makes two of you.

Oh!

In 3 weeks,
the two of us
are getting married,

and that's an end of it.

No, Sarah.

That will not happen,
I promise you.

[Door opens]

I will not let you
marry that man.

[Church bells ringing]

[Doorbell rings]

Sam, come in.
I'll get my coat.

Right.

These are very good, sir.

Are they yours?

No. My...

My wife painted them.

Ready?

Present and correct.
Where to?

The hospital.

Man: Paul milner.

He was corporal
with the terriers
at trondheim.

He was
a detective sergeant
when I knew him.

In peacetime, you mean.

Hmm.

How bad is he?

He more or less took
a direct hit,

lost the lower part
of his left leg,

and there were
other complications.

I was hoping to talk to him.

I'm afraid that
may not be possible.

It's not just
his physical injuries

that are the problem.

Corporal milner.

Corporal?

No. Just, um...

Just let me know
when he's ready.

[Horse neighs]

[Horse neighs]

Aah! Aah!

Foyle, Christopher foyle.

Yes, the name's familiar to me.

Well, we met
once or twice
in court.

Yes. Of course.

It's very good
of you to take
charge of this.

Well, you telephoned
the assistant commissioner--

oh, summers. Yes.
He's an old friend.

And he telephoned me.

It's just
an accident,
I'm sure.

It's got to be.

And the blood.

We don't know that it's hers.

Well, we are looking for her.

Yes.

Mrs. beaumont is
your second wife?

Yes.

My first wife Claire died

in a motor accident
12 years ago.

I met greta

on a tour of czechoslovakia

in, uh, '38

just a couple
of months
before Munich.

She was at Prague university

working in the archives.

Yes. And her
maiden name?

Why on earth
do you want to know?

Well, there are always forms,

I'm afraid, to fill in.

Greta Anna hauptmann.

Not the sort
of name one wants
to bandy about

the British
countryside just
at the moment.

No. I was
in the village
the other day.

I imagine feelings are
running very high.

Yes. That was
very unfortunate.

Of course, I heard
about the girl
who got killed,

but that has nothing
to do with greta.

Nobody in their right mind

could possibly imagine...

What I'm trying to say is

that if anybody
has a grudge
against greta,

they--they simply
don't know her.

Greta never
had any time
for Hitler or Nazis.

And her classification?

Why do you ask?

Well, same reason--
forms.

She went
before a tribunal
in February.

It was an
extremely unpleasant
experience

for both of us.

Not, of course, that there was

anything to worry about.

They quite rightly
gave her "c" status,

which means,
as you're probably
well aware,

that she was not
considered dangerous
to anyone.

They, practically speaking,

left her alone.

She was also, incidentally,

classified
as a refugee
from Nazi oppression

in case you have any doubts

about her right
to be in this
country.

Well, even so, living as close

to the coast as you do,

I'm surprised she wasn't moved

earlier this month.

Moved?

Well, the security executive

moved all noninterned
enemy aliens

from coastal areas,

the only exemptions being

for those under 16 and over 60.

Yes. I am aware
of the home office
directives, foyle.

My wife was exempted
because she is ill.

Ah. Right.

She has, uh,

severe angina,
heart disease,
you know.

Oh.

Not the, um--

not the wisest thing
for her to be out
riding then,

I wouldn't have thought.

No. Perhaps not,

but she has
an extremely
strong will.

She never listens
to me or her doctor.

Hmm.

[Knock on door]

Yes?

Sir.

Foyle: Who found her?

Constable meadows, sir.

Spewed his guts out.

How is he?

Well, he's very shocked.

He's lying down.

I've asked Natalie
to take up some tea
for him.

And how are you?

I'm fine.

And, of course, I'm very upset.

God. I can't imagine
why anyone would want

to do such a terrible thing.

Poor greta.

Did you see her leave?

No.

I went out quite early
walking the dog,

and I'm afraid I went
quite the other way.

I didn't go anywhere
near park bottom.

And, um, how do you
know where
it happened?

Well, I assumed.

I mean, greta always
rode the same bridle paths.

She went over through the copse

and down past the old barn.

All I meant was
that I didn't
go that way.

You don't think
I had anything to do
with it, do you?

Do you mind if I sit down?

Look. It's no secret
that greta and I
didn't get on.

Anyone will tell you that.

Well, why was that?

I didn't like her.

And she didn't like me.

[Door bursts open]

Sarah, is it true?

Michael, this is detective
chief superintendant foyle.

My God! Then it is
as Natalie told me.

It's unbelievable.
Are you all right?

Yes, except that
Mr. foyle here

has as good as
accused me of having
had a hand in it.

That's absurd!

Well, I'm accusing
no one of anything.

I'm sorry.
You're, um...

This is Michael Turner.

Michael used to be
the family solicitor.

He and I are engaged
to be married.

Ah, and what do you do now?

I joined o.I.C.,

operational intelligence center

at the admiralty.

I'm in London.

What sort of work is that?

I'm sorry.
It's classified.

Ah.

Are you, uh--
you staying here?

No.

Mr. beaumont doesn't
approve of my being

under the same roof as Sarah

before wedlock.

My father's a very
old-fashioned man.

I'm staying at the bell,

or what's left of it.

I was there this morning,
all morning,

in case you're wondering.

On your own?

What do you need,
Mr. foyle, a signed
witness statement?

Well, your
stepmother
was killed

in a particularly
cruel way,
miss beaumont.

Her head was almost
completely taken off
by a piano wire

which stretched
across the route

which somebody
obviously knew she
was going to take.

She was alive when
she hit the ground,

but then she
bled to death,
so forgive me

if I don't treat this

in quite
the flippant sort
of manner

that you seem to want to.

Were you on your own?

I went out for a short stroll

about 9:00.

Nobody saw me.

Then I went back to my room,

and I did some work.

Um, did you
and Mrs. beaumont
get along?

Not well.

That wasn't your fault.

I don't know why,

but she seemed
to take against me

from the moment
that Sarah and I
got engaged.

And how did you meet?

Funnily enough,
greta introduced us.

Mrs. beaumont
came to London.

She was interested
in the family trust.

This house and quite
a large sum of money

are entrusted to Sarah
until she marries.

She didn't like that.

You see, it would
have cut her out.

She asked me to look into it,

and that was when I met Sarah.

It was love at first sight.

Look. This has got
nothing to do
with the trust.

There was nothing
greta could do
about it anyway.

If you ask me,
it's absolutely obvious,

it's the bomb.

I mean, it's someone
from the village.

It's got to be revenge.

What about that chap
who was here earlier?

Uh, from the village.

I don't know his name.

He was a soldier.

Oh. That was
mark Andrews.

He used to be underkeeper
on the estate

before he enlisted.

I'll be a couple of minutes.

Can I come in?

No.

Mark Andrews?

Are you the police?
Yes.

This is about her, isn't it,

the woman who was killed?

Yes.

You better come in.

Andrews:
My Uncle and aunt
were living here

in this house.

Elsie wasn't even German.

She was a nurse.

She went
to Wiesbaden
back in 1918

helping out after the blockade,

and now she's dead.

And my Uncle--

they're gonna send him
to the bloody Isle of Man,

which I'd say is
the next best thing.

And do you know why?

They were interned.

One law for the rich
and one for the poor.

Nothing ever changes, does it?

My people are jailed.

Greta beaumont just
swans around horse riding

and all the rest of it.

"C" registration.

Wonder how much that cost.

Well, she was seen
by a tribunal

like everyone else.

But Henry beaumont
was a magistrate,

wasn't he?

Not like everyone else.

Friends in high places.

She was allowed
to stay at the manor

because she was very ill.

Says who?

Did you go to see him, uh,

to ask for his help?

Yeah,

and he told me to sod off.

"There's nothing
I can do."

So I left,
and I didn't go back.

Been here all day packing up.

I've got to go back
to aldershot,

to my unit.

Might not be possible.

Well, I don't think
you can stop me.

Now, if you don't mind,

I've got to finish my work.

Stewart:
Sir, can I ask
you something?

Do you think she
was killed because
of what happened

in the village?

You know, the bomb?

The swastika carved
into the tree?

Well, that could
have been done
on purpose

as a distraction,

or indeed,
someone could have
come upon the body

and done it afterwards.

What a dreadful way
to kill someone.

Yes. Piano wire
across the road
is something

they teach the local
defense volunteers

if the Germans ever invade.

The girl who was killed,

isn't her father
in the a.R.P.?

Yes, and according
to the files,

he's the same one, it seems,

who first
reported Elsie
and Thomas Kramer

to the authorities.

Small world.

Yes?

Afternoon.
I'm a police officer.
The name's foyle.

I was in the pub
the other day
when it was bombed.

I'm very sorry
about your friend.

So what are you gonna do,

arrest the luftwaffe?

Oh. Well, I'm not
here about her.

I'm, um, investigating
the murder

of Mrs. greta beaumont.

Yes?

I was, first of all, wondering

if, um, you'd seen her
this morning?

No. No. I've been
working here
all day.

I'm sorry.
I can't help you.

And, uh, also,
there was something

you said in the pub
the other day

to the landlord.

Um, "I know all about you.

I know what
goes on here."

Ian judd.

What's all that about?

Terry was 17, underage.

She shouldn't
have been
working for him.

I wouldn't trust him
as far as I could
throw him.

He's a crook.

Everyone knows,

and while
you're at it,
you ask him

why he was getting
all that money

from that chap up at the manor.

Henry beaumont?

Uh, no.

Michael Turner.

The LA-di-da
solicitor
from London.

I saw it with my own eyes,

a great pile of cash.

That was never
bed and breakfast.

Hmm.

Well, again,
I'm very sorry
about Terry.

Why are you wasting your time

with this investigation?

Greta beaumont was
a German woman
who got killed.

One more dead German.

Who gives a damn?

Thank you.

What's happened to the world?

Eh?

Hitler.

If only we'd
stood firm back in '38,

this war would never
have happened.

Groves:
Henry, I have to

talk to you about her,

about greta.

Who would do that to her?

Who would do it?

She never hurt anybody.

She wasn't--

listen to me, Henry.

I have a friend
at county
police h.Q.

He's a doctor.

I was talking to him just now,

and he told me
that foyle
has ordered

a full postmortem on greta.

Well, what do you
want me to do?

You know what you have to do.

We cannot afford
to have this man

breathing down our necks.

Henry?

I don't know.

I don't know.

Just leave me alone.

Good afternoon,
detective chief
superintendant.

Good afternoon.

You off back to London then?

Yup.

Got to get to it.

Well, not quite yet.

Can I have a word?

Certainly.

Turner: All right.
I'll tell you
the truth,

but I'd be grateful
if it didn't go
any further.

I was seeing someone here.

A lady.

I must have been
out of my mind.

I'm in love with Sarah,

head over heels, madly in love.

She's--
she's beautiful.

She's rich.
She's perfect,

but the thing is, foyle,

I'm a man like any other.

Being banned from the house...

You brought her here.

Mm. Eh, not her.

That's the hell of it.

It was the girl
behind the bar--

Tracey Stephens.

The, uh, the girl
who was killed.

Yeah. Yeah.
It was awful.

But, yeah, she and I were...

That was nothing serious.

I gave her 10 Bob
every now and again,

and she seemed to like me,

but--oh!

I know this sounds bad,

but trace and me,

we were
happy with
the arrangement.

And, uh, how long
had this been
going on for?

Oh, since the start
of the year.

February, march.

It was just casual.

It wasn't regular.

And judd found out?

Mm. Mm-hmm.

And he was blackmailing you?

No. I wouldn't go
as far as that.

He didn't threaten
to tell anyone--

Sarah or Henry.

But, uh, what
were you paying him
money for then?

Yeah. I--I'm
just saying

that--that it
wasn't blackmail.

Look. I paid him
for a double room,
all right?

Double room.
No questions asked.

That's all I'm saying is,

is that when
he found out
about Tracey,

the price went up.

Foyle.

About Bob Keegan, I just want

to set the record straight.

No, no, no, no.

Tell me about Tracey Stephens.

Well, what you want to know?

She was a nice girl.

Very honest, reliable.

And underage?

There's girls that are 16 or 17

working in bars
up and down
this country.

These days,
you just turn
a blind eye.

Michael Turner?

Well.

If she was earning
a few extra Bob,

where's the harm in it?

Of course,
he should be
ashamed of himself,

but it's none of my business.

Well, I thought that's
exactly what it was.

I done nothing wrong.

So how did you
find out about them?

Saw the two of them
one evening.

Must have been, oh,
start of march.

He'd be hanging around

outside the pub in his car,

and that, well,
sort of puzzled me,

so I started
to keep an eye out,

and then one night
about, oh, 10:00,

I saw her get in with him.

Our Tracey...

She got in with him
in the back seat.

[Knock on door]

Yes?

It's, uh, 6:30, sir.

Do you mind if I go home?

No, no, no, no.

You all right to get back?

Yes. I'll walk.

Good night, sir.

Good night.

Whitehall 2127.

Richard, Christopher.

Yeah, fine.

Um, need a favor.

Your files on enemy aliens.

Do you have anything
on a greta Anna hauptmann?

Two ns.

Yes, um, from the sudetenland?

No. I can do
the same for you.

Thank you.

There you are.
Comfortable?

I think.

Sergeant milner.

Detective
superintendant
foyle.

You asked me to work
with you once.

Yeah.

And I said no.

Yes.

How are you?

I've been better.

It still itches.

My leg.

I get this itching in my foot,

and I reach down to scratch it,

and, of course,

it's not there.

You've been through a lot.

I'm sorry.

You've no idea.

13,000 of us.

Just 2,000 of them.

We thought it was
gonna be a pushover.

Then they started the bombing.

We weren't trained.

We had no supplies.

The only support
we were getting--

biplanes.

Gloster gladiator fighters.

Old bangers that
looked like they'd
been left over

from the great war.

The last thing I remember...

Well, I don't
remember much
anymore.

Well, the doctors seem to think

you're doing very well.

They're getting me
a prosthetic.

It's like
getting measured
for a suit--

savile row.

Well, I'm here to...

Ask you again
if you'll work for me.

Me?

I need an assistant.

I'm sorry, sir.

I'm not quite myself anymore.

I don't think I'd be
of much good to you.

Well, I think
I should be
the judge of that

unless, of course,
you've got other plans.

I mean, if you intend

to spend the rest
of the war in bed

weaving raffia baskets--

I haven't thought
about the rest
of the war.

I think you should.

I want you to take
a look at this.

What is it?

The case notes
for something
I'm working on.

I'd appreciate
another point of view.

A wealthy woman.
Murdered.

Those are photographs
of the scene of the crime.

A swastika.

Yes. She was German.

Uh, the village
she lived in was bombed.

Um, it may, of course,
just be revenge,

but I'm not so sure.

There are many
other reasons--

family, marriage, money,
and these--

I've typed up
the interviews so far.

I'd like you to look at them

and let me know what you think.

Typed these yourself?

Well, as I said,
I'm short-staffed.

Well...

I've got nothing else to do.

Good.

[Whistling]

[Car engine starts]

[Grunting]

Aah!

[Groaning]

[Footsteps]

You know,

I never did quite work out

the attraction
of spending half the day,

ankle-deep in mud,

in pursuit of a fish
too stupid to
even come near us.

Andrew...

Just never underestimate

the intelligence of a trout,

and they
can hear you
from 40 feet away,

so do be quiet.

The must have heard me coming

because I've been here
two hours

and haven't seen a thing.

Oh!
Oh. At last.

Oh. What did
I tell you? See?

What have we got here?

Ohh!

Foyle: Here we go.

Got that?
What is it, dad?

A starter?

You're very
difficult
to please, Andrew.

It's a main course.

It's perfect.

Look at it go.

Oh, right.

Um, got everything?

Yes. I think so.

Good.

Well, you
better not keep
the taxi waiting.

Yeah. I'll write.

You said that
when you went
off to Oxford.

This time, I mean it.

Here. A bit
of spending money.

Dad.

No. A round
in the officer's
mess, hmm?

I'll miss you.

Yeah. Look after
yourself.

Sir.

There's been another murder.

It's judd.

How was he killed?

He's been hit
by something--

a rock, a car.

He lived over the pub.

He had rooms.

These are his keys.

Where'd you get those?

Out of his pocket.

Oh. Well done.

Stewart: He didn't
have much of a life,
by the look of it--

no wife, no children,

no photographs.

What are we looking for?

We're looking
for the reason
he was killed.

Well, he was
blackmailing
Michael Turner.

Well, no.
I mean, blackmailers
get killed

when the people
they're blackmailing

either can't or won't pay,

but Turner was happy
to pay, so he says.

I mean,
it was a business
arrangement.

Well, maybe he was lying.

Well, maybe he was.
Maybe he hated judd.

The point is, we knew
all about this affair
with Tracey Stephens.

It was no secret.

So why kill him now?

But if it wasn't him,
who was it?

Well, the man was a crook.

Got to assume he had enemies.

He was working with Keegan,

was extorting money
from Turner.

He was profiteering.

He was in ration book fraud,

underage drinking.

Uh-oh.

What is it?

Money?

Over �200 here.

How could he have earned
as much as that?

Well, certainly not
by ration book fraud,
that's for sure.

Oh, lord.

What?

I forgot to give you this.

Sam!

I'm sorry, sir,

but dad always said
I had a memory
like a sieve.

Don't sigh, you git.

Look.
This is important.

Sorry.

Foyle: Dr. groves.

I'm afraid I'm just leaving.

They're burying
the Stephens girl.

I thought I ought to be there.

Oh, I won't keep you a minute.

Are you
greta beaumont's
doctor?

Yes.

She was registered
with the local police--

"c" registration,
virtually unrestricted.

Even so, she
should have been moved

when the home office
started the rearrest
of aliens

in all coastal districts
earlier this month,

and yet she wasn't, was she?

She was exempted.
Apparently, she had
a heart condition?

I can't comment on that.

Oh, it wasn't you who
diagnosed severe angina
in Mrs. beaumont?

The postmortem is showing

that she
was as healthy
as you and me.

She didn't have angina at all,

which means
the medical report
was false,

but it wasn't you
who wrote the report?

I think you're trespassing
on doctor/patient
confidentiality.

Oh. Well, I can have
a copy of the report

with the name of
the doctor who signed it
in 24 hours.

Then that's what
you'll have to do.

I have nothing to say.

"He that believeth in me,

"though he were dead,

"yet shall he live,

and whosoever..."

Stewart:
It could have
been us.

That's her father.

[Minister continues reading]

Stewart:
You don't think...

Well,
if there was anyone
in the village

with
a grudge against
the Germans...

"We brought nothing
into this world,

"and it is certain
we shall carry
nothing out.

"The lord gave,

and the lord
hath taken away."

Mr. Stephens,
forgive me.

I'm a police officer
and was in the pub

the other day when it was hit.

I met your daughter
very briefly.
I'm very sorry.

17 years old.

Yes.

You're gonna tell me
she shouldn't have been
working there.

I know that. She was
saving up the money,

her and ray.

They'd have
been married
within a year...

Oh, no.

And now--

I hate the Germans.

I hate the bloody Germans.

That's why you're
here, isn't it?

You're looking into
the death of that
German woman.

Well,
she got what's
coming to her.

She didn't belong here

and out flouting the law
as much as she liked--

riding, driving her car,

doing as she pleased.

You saw what they
did to my Tracey.

I'm glad someone did for her.

She drove.

[Dog barking]

Sarah:
What are you doing?

Oh, it's you,
Mr. foyle.

Was this your stepmother's?

No, actually.
It's daddy's.

Ah.

Not that we ever
use it anymore.

It hasn't been
out of the garage
for about 3 months.

Oh, these look
a little more recent
than that,

don't you think?

Oh, it's the gardener.
He takes it out
to clean it.

Ah.

Why are you here?

You mentioned a family trust.

Yes.

It's very simple.

This house, the land,
and all the money
that goes with it

passes down to
the first in line
on their marriage.

Been that way for centuries.

And the first in line is...

Me.

So when Michael
and I get married,
it's all ours.

So what would have
happened to your
father and greta?

We hadn't really
talked about it.

They could've stayed here,

or there are
plenty of cottages
on the estate.

Greta wasn't
at all happy with
the arrangements,

so last year, she
went up to London
to the solicitor's,

and funnily enough,
that's how
I met Michael

because she
brought him down here

working on the entails
and the codicils and
all that sort of stuff.

Ah.

So you first started
going out together in--

in spring.

In the spring.

Greta was horrified,

but of course
she knew she'd lose
control of the manor

as soon as I was married.

Obviously,
that's what she had
against him.

Love at first sight.

That's what Michael said,

and he's right.

We're perfectly suited.

[Door opens]

Uh...

What are you doing here?

Do you know who killed her?

Not yet, no.

Uh, but I'm afraid
there was another death
in the village last night,

a hit-and-run victim,
it seems--Ian judd.

Judd?

He was
the landlord
at the bell.

Greta knew him.
Couldn't stand the man.

Was he murdered?

I'm afraid so.

Thank you for your time.

Useless.

I think he's doing his best.

He doesn't know anything.

Time he moved on.

[Telephone rings]

You don't give up,
do you, foyle?

Despite what I told you,

you still
persist in these
transfer requests,

half a dozen more
the very day you
left this office.

I saw you
posting them
from the window.

Well...

It looks as if,
on this occasion,

you may,
in fact, have got
your own way.

You still want
to be involved
in the war effort?

Well, I don't like losing you,

but after due reflection,

I've decided
that if you're so
damn determined,

as it happens,

something
has come up that
might just suit you.

It's a senior position
in the cabinet office

reporting directly
to general ismay.

You've put me forward?

Ismay wants you
to report to him
in whitehall

at 0900 hours tomorrow morning.

I can't do that.

What?

I can't start yet.

Foyle, am I getting
through to you?

This is the cabinet office.

They won't
shilly-shally around
just to suit you.

Well, I'm
investigating
a murder.

The German woman?

Just get your
case notes typed up
and send them to me.

No. I'm sorry.
I can't stop now.

What are you talking about?

I'm offering you
exactly what
you requested

here in this office
and in almost
a dozen letters.

You said it yourself--

"what does it matter,
one murder?"

Two, actually--
almost certainly
connected.

You want me to tell
general ismay
you're busy?

I'd like you
to ask him to wait.

I doubt that is a possibility.

Then I'm sorry.

Foyle, if you walk
out of that door,

you will remain a policeman

not just
for the duration
of the war,

but until the day you retire.

You won't get a second chance.

The German woman

was protected by...

Influential friends,

and it's still possible

that it was those friends
who wanted her dead.

She was as fit as you or me,

and yet the family doctor

lied about
an angina condition
on her medical report

to prevent her
from being interned.

So have you
arrested him,
this doctor?

No, because he
was only part of it.

Are you suggesting
there was
a conspiracy?

I'm suggesting

that Henry beaumont,
her husband,

is rich and influential

and would, I imagine,
find it very easy
to expect favors.

Greta beaumont
went before a tribunal
last February.

She was given "c" registration

and was classified
as a refugee
from Nazi oppression.

Greta Anna hauptmann,
her maiden name,

isn't exactly
your classic refugee.

For a start,
she has two brothers
still in Germany.

One of them served
under Von falkenhorst
in Norway,

and the other
is a ranking officer
in the abwehr in Berlin,

which should have led
to her being interned
immediately,

and the committee
that gave her
"c" registration

must have been blind,

idiotic,

corrupt,

or all 3,

but, of course,
you know all of this,
don't you,

because you were
the chairman
of the committee.

[Sniffs]

Foyle, we can work this out.

Well, I don't think so.

[Door opens and closes]

Wait here, will you?

Mr. Kramer.

I don't know you.

I'm a police officer.
The name's foyle.

You have no uniform?

I'm a detective.

Would you like to sit down?

I met your nephew mark.

Is he in trouble?

No, no, but he
brought my attention
to what's happened to you,

and I'm here to help.

How?

I've arranged a special
dispensation for you.

You don't have
to stay here any longer.

You can go home.

Why do you want
to do this for me,
Mr. foyle?

Well, what happened
to you and to your wife

was wrong,

and I'm very sorry.

You don't
think that it's,
perhaps, too late?

Well, Mr. Kramer,
we're at war,

and there are going
to be casualties,

and some of them
are going to be innocent
like your wife.

I couldn't do
anything to help her,

but I can do
something to help you.

Do you want to leave,

or don't you?

I want to leave.

Foyle:
Do you know, Sam,

I think we got it wrong.

The case?

No. Enemy aliens.

I was reading the mail.

They were saying
that Norway would
never have fallen

if it hadn't been
for the Germans and their
friends inside the country--

quisling, people like that.

The mail. Hmph.

It makes you think, doesn't it?

Fleet street
would rather
you didn't think.

That's the whole point.

I mean, these people
have fled
their own country,

a step ahead of
concentration camps
and God knows what.

They've had to
give up everything--

their homes,
their possessions--

and if getting
out of a country
is hard enough,

getting
into another one
is even worse.

They have to be sponsored.

There's
the British consul,
port immigration,

tribunals, the local police,

and when they finally
do settle down,
what do we do?

We arrest them and
lock them up again.

Would you have helped
greta beaumont?

Well, I wouldn't
have broken the law.

[Chuckles]

There's not
a lot of choice
in the hospital library.

Oh, I see.

Have you tried Graham Greene?

Brighton rock is very good.

You'd like that.
I'll bring it in.

Thank you.

My wife said she'd
bring something in.

She came yesterday,
but she forgot
the book.

Today she forgot
to come at all.

Oh.

Did you read the notes?

Yes. I read those.

And?

I prefer your prose style.

Oh, right.

Well, anything occur to you?

Why are you doing this, sir?

Do you really need my help,

or do you just
feel sorry for me?

Well, I'm trying to find
a killer, milner.

I don't have time for charity.

I've explained to you
why I'm here.

You either want to help
or you don't.

What I don't understand is,

what did Mrs. beaumont
have against
Michael Turner?

If there was
something she didn't
like about him,

why didn't she
come out and say
what it was?

Good question.

Or was it
all about money,
the family trust?

Sarah gets married,
Henry and greta
lose.

That doesn't add up.

From what you say,

Henry beaumont
was the one that
ruled the roost,

and he was happy
for the wedding
to go ahead, anyway.

No.

The key
to this is greta
and Michael Turner.

What did she know
that she wasn't
saying?

What was it that
made her afraid?

Any ideas?

Eh, just one--

Ian judd.

Yes. Greta had something
against him, too,
according to Henry.

How did she even know him?

Judd saw Turner
with Tracey Stephens.

That was when
he started
blackmailing him.

Maybe judd
went to greta
with what he knew,

what he'd seen outside the pub.

By the way,

was there a moon that night?

Another good question.

Well done. Thank you.

Henry: Why are you
back here again?

Do you know who killed my wife?

I'd just like one
or two more details
about the family trust.

What about it?

It's the reason
your wife went
to London.

She couldn't bear the idea
of my inheriting.

That's not true.

She was meddling, yes,
but I knew she wouldn't
get anywhere.

These things
are written in stone.

Foyle: And when
did she start,

um, making these inquiries?

About, oh, um,

October, November last year.

Would you say
she became
obsessive about it?

I would say that
she spent a devil
of a lot of time on it.

Mm-hmm.

And Michael Turner
was the solicitor

responsible
for answering
her questions.

Until he joined the admiralty.

Henry: Yes.

Foyle: All right.

Did your wife and yourself

have separate
banking
arrangements?

I don't see
what damn business
that is of yours.

Sarah: Daddy, I--

did you give her an allowance?

She had a personal allowance

and a separate allowance
for the housekeeping, yes.

And did she ask
for any money
in excess of that?

When?

Recently,
in the weeks
before her death.

Once or twice,

a few times,
but the prices now--

food, petrol--
you have to pay.

Right. Thank you.

Uh-huh.

How did you get
Dr. groves to lie
about your wife?

I paid him,

pure and simple.

And summers?

Oh, we go back a long way.

And did you
know about
greta's family?

The brothers?
Yes.

Yes. Of course I do,
but that's not the point.

I knew her.

That's why I was prepared
to lie for her,

to break the law for her.

She wasn't the enemy.

I loved her,
detective chief
superintendant.

I'd do it again.

Glad to see you, sergeant.

Mr. foyle.

Oh.

Good to see you.

Sorry to have kept you waiting.

That's perfectly all right.

How can I help you?

Is there somewhere
we can speak?

So what can I do for you?

Um...

Well, you could
tell me the truth.

I thought I already had.

No. You were lying.

Well...

Yes. All right.

I'll come clean.

Judd was blackmailing me.

Is that what
you wanted to hear?

Yeah. I was
willing to pay.

I mean, he wasn't
asking that much,

but now that he's dead,

well, might as well
call a spade
a spade.

How did you know he was dead?

Sarah told me.

Oh.

No. You're still lying.

Um...

Judd saw you
and Tracey Stephens
together,

and you paid him
to keep silent
isn't true.

That is true.

He told you himself.

Oh, well,
he was lying,
as well.

Judd, voice-over:
Saw the two of them one evening.

Must have been,
oh, start of march.

He'd been hanging around
outside the pub in his car.

That, well, sort of puzzled me,

so I started
to keep an eye out,

and then one night
about, oh, 10:00,

I saw her get in with him,
our Tracey.

That's who
he'd been waiting for.

She got in with him,
the back seat.

Foyle, voice-over:
It was pitch-black.

There was a blackout.

There wasn't a moon.

He wasn't able to see
you and Tracey Stephens.

Of course he saw us.
How else would he
have known about it?

It wasn't even
Tracey Stephens
you were with.

You didn't even know her.

All you knew was
that she'd been killed
by the bomb

and couldn't
answer for herself,
and you used her.

Foyle, voice-over:
She wasn't
the sort of girl

who'd leap into bed
with just anybody
for 10 Bob.

She was saving up
to get married.

She was going to marry
her sweetheart
from the greengrocer's.

I met her parents.

They weren't the sort
of people who'd let their
daughter behave like that.

Everything
you said about her
was a desecration.

Judd saw us.

No. You told judd
to say he'd seen her,

and he agreed
to keep you on the hook

because after
you'd married
Sarah beaumont,

you'd be very wealthy,

and then he'd really
start making you pay

because he knew
who you'd really met
in the car park...

[Heavy breathing]

Foyle, voice-over:
Greta.

[Moans]

Turner, voice-over:
My mother-in-law?

Well, she wasn't
your prospective
mother-in-law

when you first met in October,

5 whole months
before you met Sarah,

which is why you
were so very keen

to interrupt her
when she tried
to tell me about it.

Sarah: Funnily enough,
greta introduced us--

Mrs. beaumont
came to London.

She was interested
in the family trust.

You didn't want me
to know it was greta
who'd introduced you,

and no wonder she
didn't want the marriage
to go ahead,

and of course
she couldn't tell
her husband why not.

She knew you
for the, uh--

for the sort of person
that you really are.

You start coming to the house.

You're still
seeing greta
at the bell,

but the next thing
she knows, you've
dumped her.

You've taken the money,
the stepdaughter, the lot,

and in the end,
you had to kill her

because she
threatened you
once too often.

Maybe she cared
more for Sarah
than anybody thought.

Maybe she was prepared

to destroy her own marriage

to keep Sarah from you.

So you got rid of her...

Leaving the swastika
behind as a diversion.

And judd was blackmailing
greta as well as you,

but of course you weren't
going to spend the rest
of your life paying him off,

so he had to go, too.

All right.

Is that a confession?

Why not?

You seem to have it
all worked out...

But listen to me, foyle.

There are 36 of us
working here
at o.I.C.

Right now we're
putting together

a cryptanalysis
service for
the royal Navy.

Do you have any idea
how vital it may be?

Right now we have
no cryptanalysis.

We're using
antiquated manual
cipher tables.

We have no
air reconnaissance,
no r.D.F.

We failed in Norway
because we had
no advance warning

of German fleet movements.

Even worse, now they
can knock our ships
out one by one.

There's nothing
we can do about it

because although
they're intercepting

all our operational and
administrative ciphers,

we haven't
the faintest idea
where they are.

What's this got to do
with greta beaumont?

Everything.

Yes. I admit
I killed her.

It was just like you said.

I fell for her.

We began an affair.

Then I met Sarah.

But have you any idea

how important
I am to the work
we're doing here?

6 months' work.

I'm actually leading
the team here.

Ask
rear admiral Clayton.
Ask sir Norman denning.

What good is it gonna do

taking me out of here

and throwing me in prison?

What good
is it gonna do
hanging me?

It would set back
our work here
months...

And that
could cost us
another ship...

Hundreds of lives.

Are you ready to have that

on your conscience,
detective chief
superintendant?

Is it really worth the price?

[Breathes deeply]

She was only a German woman.

She was the enemy.

Judd?

Blackmailer,

just like you said.

So...

You have to take
the wider view.

This is war.

Stewart: Are they
gonna hang him?

Foyle: Probably.

Do you mind if
I ask you a question?

Weren't you tempted
to let him go?

Yes. Yes, I was.

Hanging him is not
gonna do anybody
much good,

and he had a point, I suppose,

but, um...

I'm a policeman.

I'm here
to do a job.
Simple as that.

If I start bending
the rules, I might
as well pack it in.

Yes, but she was a German.

Well, that doesn't
make any difference
at all.

She's a human being.
She was murdered.
Murder is murder.

You stop believing that,
and we might as well
not be fighting a war

because you end up
like the Nazis.

Stewart: Sir.

Morning, sergeant.

Sir.

Thought you might like a lift.

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