All language subtitles for Foyles War S06E02 Broken Souls

'Ere you are. Good luck, mate.

Hello, old girl.

Rose?

Ah, Daniel!

One moment.

Daniel! Daniel!

Schau, meine Hande sind leer.

Schau, was ich gefunden hab'.

Oh, Danny...

Fred...

Good morning.

Who the hell is he?

Oh!

Thank you.

- 'This is the BBC Home
- Service...'

Mr Foyle.
Doctor.

Has my star pupil time for a game?

Not now, I'm afraid. This evening,
perhaps?

I look forward to it. You always
present a firm challenge. Unlike some.

Have I missed anything? My wireless
is broken. I didn't hear the news.

I wasn't listening. I try to avoid a daily dose
of death and destruction with my morning coffee.

Well, it'll be all over soon.

I'm afraid there are horrors still
to come.

What is this?

They've just arrived. They'll be on
their way to the prisoner-of-war camp.

Who's that man, Mummy?

Come on, Daniel - go to your father.

Daniel!

He doesn't know you yet.
He'll come round.

He takes after you.
Does he?

I can't see much Dawson in him.

You should have let me know you were
coming, sent me a telegram.

I thought you'd think the worst when
the telegram boy knocked on the door.

I wanted it to be a surprise.

What's the Nazi doing here?
Oh, he's not like that.

After your dad died, there was no-one to do the
labouring, so they sent Johann from the camp.

He's good with Danny.

Is he, now?

Fred, I'm glad you're home.

I'm going to take a kip.

Which bed do you want me to use?
What?

I'm dog-tired. That's all.

What's wrong with your leg?

So, what do you reckon for Saturday,
Miss Stewart?

Portsmouth or Charlton Athletic?

Do you think I give two hoots?
Sorry?

I thought the war had put a stop to
football. All the endless chitchat.

Not any more. It's the War Cup on
Saturday and I'm doing the Unity Pools.

So, what do you say? Draw or away
win?

Sgt Brooke.
Morning, Sam.

Morning.
Oh, hold on.

I'll put you onto DS Milner.

It's the Met.

'Ere, while you're on, what sort of team do
you think Charlton'll put out on Saturday?

Bartram'll play?

Sam!
Rose!

Hello, little man!

What is it?
Hello?

Fred's home.
No!

Morning.
Morning, sir.

Yes. And how old is the lad?

Rose has wonderful news, Brookie.
Her husband's come home.

Oh, good for him.
After five years.

He's been a POW since Dunkirk.
He managed to escape.

And...is he all right?

He's fine.

I wondered if I could borrow a
dress.

His name's Tommy Crooks. He's 15.

He works for the Post Office in London, delivering
telegrams, but he's been missing for three days.

Apparently, he had a row with his father
and didn't come home the next day.

'What makes them think we can help?'

'Well, it's a bit of a long shot, but
he used to be an evacuee down here.'

Excuse me.
Yes, young man? Can I help you?

Yeah, I'm looking for Sir John and
Lady Muriel.

They don't live here any more.
Don't they?

The house is a psychiatric clinic
now.

A what?

For soldiers and airmen who
are...sick a little in the head.

Sir John and Lady Muriel are staying
at Dial Cottage, over that hill.

Oh, I know. Thank you.

Don't mention it.

Get out of my seat!

Peter! Stop that!

Come away. Peter, Peter, leave him.

Leave him. Stop, now. Peter!

Peter, leave him. Leave him. Leave
him.

Many things will aid your eventual
recovery.

But you will not truly recover until
you say what is going on in your mind.

When I close my eyes, I see...I
hear...

What do you hear, Peter? Who do you
see?

What am I going to do?

I will give you something
to make you sleep.

Now, that scene just now -
you attacked a fellow patient.

Why?

He annoys me. That's all.
Peter, this is not good.

Violence never achieves anything.

That's a good one, Doctor. Where have
you been these last five years?

How many people in the world have
been killed,

while we've been sitting here, having
this cosy little chat?

Ah, here comes your charming wife.

Hello, Dr Novak.

Hello, Peter.

There's more smoke in here than
London in the Blitz!

What on earth were you doing?

The Times crossword.

Eight-down was especially ticklish.

That is more or less our entire meat ration
for the week, you hopeless creature.

We can get more from the farm.

Johnny, we can't!
When are you going to understand?

Everything is controlled.

Rose is very kind, giving us the
occasional egg.

I'm not having any more eggs.
I'm constipated enough, as it is.

Well, it'll have to be turnip on
toast. I've nothing else.

God in heaven!
What have we done to deserve this?

Hello? Hello!

Look, Mama - it's the boy.

Tommy? What are you doing here?

Oh, you look just like Veronica
Lake! He'll love you in that.

Do you think? Thanks.

Are you going out?
No, I'm cooking for him.

He's got so thin, Sam.

I'll put Danny to bed early and then we
can just eat and talk, like we used to.

I'm so happy for you, Rose.

I don't suppose you've got any
lipstick.

Not since my Yank chap deserted me
for that French girl.

I swear by beetroot juice, myself.
Have you got any beetroot?

Erm...about six acres.

I'm scared, Sam.

All this time we've been apart -
I don't know if we'll get on.

If Dan'll take to him.

If he still loves me.

Come, my friend.

How is your husband, Rose?
Very tired.

Perhaps he has a bad time in prison
camp. Worse than for me.

Perhaps.

Johann...
I will not trouble him.

I will get on with work and keep
quiet.

Thank you.

Come on, Daniel.

'His mental state is
becoming increasingly fragile.

I'm concerned for him.'

The fracas outside. He was quite out
of control, I understand.

I'm not familiar with this case.
What happened to this man? Phelps, is it?

He's with Bomber Command. Some
months ago his plane crash-landed.

The crew were all burnt to death -
except for him.

Lucky man.

The plane was part of a raid over Germany which
caused a fire-storm which lasted for two days.

Thousands were killed, and Peter was
a bomb-aimer, by the way.

He did his job well, then.
But a sensitive young man,

with a troubled childhood.

When he was nine, his twin brother
died in a house-fire.

Fascinating case.

The guilt of the survivor, three
times over.

It would be interesting to talk to
him...

with your permission, of course,
Novak...

But I won't have the time now.

Yes, we must congratulate our
colleague on a promotion.

Dr Worth has just been appointed to
a prestigious position at Cambridge.

Do we need to do anything drastic
about Phelps?

Is he a danger to himself or anyone
else?

I don't believe so, but I will keep
a close eye on him, of course.

It's very important that he is
watched at all times.

Very well, Doctor.

Joy, are you all right?

It's Peter.
He's getting worse, not better.

Now, listen to me. He is my patient,

under my care and protection,

and I am determined
to help him back to health

and a normal, happy life,

with you beside him.

Well, it worked.
Apparently.

God help Cambridge.

You've caused more trouble in six
months than a nest of vipers.

You must be happy, then.

I will be when you've fulfilled your
side of the bargain.

All in good time, Dr Campbell.
Now, look here...

Ready? Let's get you back to the
Hotel Hitler, then.

You are leaving us so soon?

The university want me to start as
soon as possible.

My congratulations.
I'm sorry to see you go.

No, you're not.

Oh, by the way, those case notes you
borrowed some months ago...

You never returned them.

Oh, yes. Erm...quite interesting.

I'll dig them out.

You'll never guess what I made for
pud. Peach cobbler!

Nice.

It's so strange seeing you sitting
there.

We used to talk about you.
Me and Danny.

Where you were. What you were doing.

What was it like, Fred?

Tell me.

Leave it, Rose.

If you can't talk to your wife...

The food's too rich. I'm not used to
it.

Sorry.
It doesn't matter.

Well, that's...

..quite ruthless.

I was taught by my uncle, who was as
ruthless with me as with a Grand Master.

He was champion of Poland, by the
way,

until the Nazis declared chess an Aryan pursuit,
and Jews were banned from competition.

And of course, that was just the
beginning.

Now, that is excellent.
You are coming along tremendously.

Chess is splendid - don't you think?

Along with the cinema. It keeps me
sane.

Not your work?
The opposite.

The enormity of trying to mend so
many lives.

All those broken souls, Mr Foyle.

In the months we've known each
other, played these games,

you've never once
asked about my history, my family.

Well, I didn't feel I could, without
it being an intrusion.

It is I who must intrude on you.

My wife is a musician, a pianist.

Chopin. I can't listen to him any
more - the associations.

We have a daughter. Marianka.

She will be 14 in a few days,
by the way.

We lived in the old family home in
Lublin.

In September '39 Herr Hitler took the opportunity
of my absence at a symposium in Paris

to invade my country.

I couldn't get back.

Does that make me a lucky man, Mr
Foyle?

In June '41, my family was forcibly
taken from our home

and placed in the ghetto.

That much I know. 18 months later I
believe

they were sent to a place called
Majdanek.

The rest is silence.

And so I fear it will remain.

Always hope, wouldn't you say?

You think so?

We shall see.

Pupils...should win occasionally -
don't you think?

I'll kill him!

I'll kill him!

Excuse me.

Sorry, sorry. Oh, Fred!

Frostbite. They don't reckon I'll
walk properly again.

Let me see.
No.

I can't.

I'll...sleep in the spare room.

Dr Worth?

Requisitioned by the Army a few
months ago.

They needed more space for the work
they were doing here.

I was planning on coming here today
to talk to the owners.

The missing boy, Tommy Crooks -
this is where he was evacuated.

Now it looks like I'm going to be
tied up all day.

I know the owners. Sir John and Lady Muriel.
Friends of my uncle. I could have a word.

All right.

Letter-opener.

Not premeditated. The killer used
what was to hand.

I wonder if they found what they were
looking for.

Are these all his?

Yes, sir. Dr Worth was about to
leave.

A new job.

Shall we make our own search, sir?

In case the killer didn't find what
he was looking for.

Yeah, and we can take him away.

And nobody in this room for the time
being.

The Mikado

# A most unattractive old thing,
tra-la

# With a caricature of a face,
with a caricature of a face

# And that's what we mean when we
say or we... #

Whoa there!

I was enjoying that!

What's wrong?
Somebody's coming.

He was a young man in a hurry.

Well qualified and even better
connected.

I'm sure he would have gone far,
if er...

Were you sorry to see him go?

With our patient numbers, I'd be sorry
to lose any member of my staff.

You didn't like him?

What's happened - it's a terrible
thing.

But Dr Worth wasn't a person I
warmed to.

Ambition's one thing. Arrogance
another.

Did he have any enemies here?

I can't say. He wasn't the most
popular member of staff,

but nothing to justify a knife
in the chest.

He's got an article in here - is that
right?

Yes, and a fine piece of work, I
must admit.

I'm sure it was instrumental in
getting him his new job.

Is that right?

What about your patients?
Could one of them have got in here?

This isn't an asylum, Sergeant.
We don't lock our patients up.

They may have their difficulties,
but they're neither mad nor bad.

Fred. Are you all right?
Did you sleep well?

Take a while, I reckon.

Along with some other things.

Sorry about last night.

You found your work-clothes, then?

You look so small in them.

I thought I'd go out.

Walk the bounds.
Get a feel for the old place.

That's nice.

Billy!

Are you managing all right on your
own?

Dear girl, we're not completely
hopeless!

In a way, it's enjoyable being
without staff.

One feels one is doing one's bit.

Indeed. So, you do remember the boy?

What?
Tommy Crooks.

Oh, he came at the start, Samantha, with
two other lads, but they didn't last.

Hopeless. One of them was light-fingered.
The other wet the bed.

Tommy was a nice boy.
Polite, willing.

Knew nothing when he first arrived.

He simply loved mucking out the
animals.

Thought a sheep was a goat!

What do they teach them at school?

Yes. And he went back to London
earlier this year?

Didn't want to. Felt at home, see.

We were sorry.
We became fond of him.

Run off, you say?

Are you sure you haven't seen him?

Here? Why should he come here?

Well, if he was happy, and he might
have...

Well, look around...if you don't
believe us.

No, that's quite all right, Sir
John.

I'm sure he'll turn up.

Come in.

Excuse me. Do you have a moment?

Mr Foyle. I'm sorry...

Er...how are you?

Well, I'm very well. How are you?

Oh, I'm well enough.

Of course, it's...it's dreadful, by
the way.

Isn't it?

This is Dr Worth's article.

I was wondering what there is in it
that upset you so very much last night.

He used case notes about my
patients.

Confidential observations about
their state of mind and treatment.

I loaned them to him, in good faith.

Mm-hm. I see.

Cos you remember what you said?

I was very angry.

It was a bad thing he did.
A breach of professional trust.

Some might call it theft.

Oh, you think I would kill a man for
that?

Well...I really don't know.

Mr Foyle, I'm dealing with an urgent
matter.

One of my patients. It won't take
long.

If you could bear with me. Five
minutes. I'll come and find you.

Of course.

'And now we leave this morning's
concert to go over to the news room.'

'This is the 10 o'clock news, and
this is Frank Clacey reading it.'

Where are we going? Where are you
taking me?

'And that concludes this special
bulletin, direct from the Eastern Front.

We now return to this morning's
concert.'

Morning, Dr Novak...

No! What are you doing?

Mind your head.
This is too much! Peter! Peter!

It's all right, my dear.

Somebody help him! Please!

No! No!

Now, now, now. Shhh.

Inside. Inside.

What's happening here?
A patient's being transferred.

A routine matter.
My secretary, Joy Phelps.

Peter's her husband.
Can you excuse us?

Of course. Whose patient is he?

Dr Novak's. I'm surprised he isn't
here to see him off.

Dr Novak's gone, sir. I saw him on
his bicycle.

He looked white as a sheet,
actually.

A bit odd, sir.
Moving a patient, today of all days.

I think we should ask him.

Concerto No.2, Second Movement

Dr Novak?

I can't see anything, sir, but I can
hear something.

What is that, sir?

Chopin.

We need to get in here, don't we?
Yes, sir.

Dr Novak?

Rose!
I brought your dinner.

I can't let you eat in the kitchen
any more. I'm sorry. Fred...

Please, no.
You have been so good to me.

What are you playing at?

I just brought Johann some dinner.

You're not...
Fred, please.

Don't you realise how his lot
treated me for five years?

The muck they fed us?
You don't know the half.

He's not stopped all day.

And you give him egg and chips and all
the trimmings. I wonder what else!

What do you mean?

Here. You can have the bread.

- Could you not just let me
- Go?

Why have you done this?
It was what he said. Werth...

What's that?

Werth. What he said.

- I want to see my son.
- And I tell you he's not here.

Don't give me that. I know he is.
Where else would he go, eh?

Now, listen to me, my man. It would
be better for you if you left now.

I'm not your man, and you can't tell
me where to go.

What is it, darling? Who are you?
Oh, this fella...

You know who I am.
I've been down here a few times...

You're the father of the Crooks boy.
That's right.

And I've come to take him home,
where he belongs.

It's loaded.

What are you doing, you potty old
fool?

Defending my property.
Now, get out of here.

You're finished, you and your kind.

You wait till the war's over!

You won't be running this country no
more. You mark my words.

Oh, don't be absurd!

Excuse me. May I come in?

I wish to speak with you.

What do you want?

You are angry with me,
because of my country,

and what happened to you there.

Say what you have to say and go.
It does not matter for me.

But for Rose, to make her so
unhappy, it is not so good.

Don't you tell me...

You are home again.

I know nothing of my family...

if they are alive or dead.

You are a lucky man.

To have a beautiful wife and such a
fine son.

I wish...

I went to the war, like you.

Gave up my life. Lost my friends.
Saw bad things. Got locked up.

You see, we are not so different.

Just soldiers.

What a failure.
I could not even kill myself.

I'm surprised they let you home.
No sympathy for civilians,

foreigners and would-be suicides.

And they needed the bed
for more-deserving cases.

Look, at some point I'm going to have
to ask for your help.

Do you feel all right now, or shall I
come back?

What would you like to know?

I'd like to know why you had Peter
Phelps moved.

I was unable to help him.
Another failure.

Was he your patient?
Yes.

And where did you move him to?

I had him committed to a mental
asylum.

Impossible to overlook that you chose to
move him within hours of Dr Worth's death.

Coincidence. It does happen.

What did Dr Worth say to you?

As they were taking you to the hospital, you
tried to tell me what he'd said to you.

Did I? I can't remember.

Of course, it's also impossible to
overlook the fact

that you've attempted to kill yourself within hours
of telling me you were going to kill Dr Worth.

Did you?

It wasn't that he lied to me,
cheated me.

Rather, that he used the misery of brave
and damaged men to better himself.

I'm so tired.

The bestiality of violence, and the
horror, the horror.

I don't want to be part of your
brave new world.

Aren't you going to arrest me?

Not just yet.

Then I'd like to go back to work as
soon as possible.

I can help.

This is very good of you.

My pleasure. We had a report about a
young boy who's run away from home.

We think he might be hiding down
here somewhere.

I was wondering what would make a
child do that.

Unhappiness at home, perhaps.
Or school.

Oh, I think he's left school.

He delivers telegrams for the Post
Office.

I suppose that, every day, he
delivers one of "those" telegrams.

Your missing boy.

Telling a mother or a wife

their son or husband is dead.

The pain he must see...
How old is he?

15.

He was evacuated here at the start
of the war.

Really?

What a burden. Poor child.

He is a messenger of death.

You don't think Dr Novak killed
Worth, do you, sir?

Did I say that?

So, shall I go on interviewing
Worth's colleagues and patients?

Yep.
Despite what Dr Novak said?

Yeah. You can also speak to Mrs Phelps and
find out where they've taken her husband

and as much as you can about him.

Yes, sir.

Dr Novak does seem to be a decent
man, sir.

Decent men don't kill?

Not usually.

Well, quite.

When Peter had his breakdown and was
sent here, I came down to be near him.

I had to find a job.

Dr Campbell was looking for a
secretary, so...

Good for everyone.

Iain - Dr Campbell - he's been very
kind.

A draft of the staff newsletter.
Perhaps you could tidy it up.

I understand that your husband's
condition has worsened recently.

He's become more...difficult.

Short-tempered.

I can't seem to reach him, get
through to him, let alone help him.

Isn't it awful? His own wife.

I'm sorry.

Was your husband ever violent
towards you?

No, no.

Well, at least, only in words.

It was Dr Novak's view that Peter
was losing control somewhat

and it was better that he be cared
for in a more appropriate place.

An asylum?
I agreed.

It's not such a bad place.

I'll get you the details.

You look at the fixtures, tell me
what you think the results will be,

I'll fill out the coupon in the paper,
and Robert's your father's brother.

But what's the point?
The point, Sam, is:

You might win something sizable for
your bottom drawer.

I haven't got any drawers, bottom or
otherwise.

What have I missed?
Nothing, sir.

In fact, you're just in time - to
hand over a tenner.

What's that for?
Football pools, sir.

Right. That's really where my money
should be going? There's a war on.

Well, it's nearly over, Mr Foyle.

Call it an exercise in staff morale,
with the station closing.

Right.

Leaving?
Yeah.

How did you get on?
I spoke to Mrs Phelps.

She's very cut up about her husband
being put away.

Is this where he is?

Yes, sir. But she looked almost
guilty about it.

I rather got the impression that there might
be something between her and Dr Campbell.

Ah. How does that help, I wonder?

Come on, Milner. Put your hand in
your pocket.

Oh...did you see all the moths
flying out?

Thank you.

When you've quite finished...I want
to make a complaint.

Look, I just want to know he's safe.
I know he come running back up here.

That's why I went to see the landed
gentry.

And caused a right old to-do, by the
sound of it.

He was the one with the shotgun!
I want him charged, by the way. Threatening behaviour.

What happened, before Tommy ran
away?

We had words.

He was supposed to bring in something for
tea, but he forgot, so I had a go at him.

He started creating, and...I gave
him a wallop.

I wish I hadn't, but...I did.

I keep thinking he's just away at
the market, or in Hastings.

He'll be back soon.

It wore him out, son -
running the place on his own.

Got too much for him.

And I wasn't here.
You were doing your bit.

He was proud of you.

Nothing to be proud of.

Second day in action, they took me.

Didn't even get to kill one of the
bastards.

You come for him, then?
Yeah.

I'll er...walk back with you.

Rose!

I made you a rabbit pie.

And a plum cake.

What is this?

I made it for Fred coming home, but
it's too big for him now.

I want you to have it.

Rose...

I'll write to the Agricultural
Committee.

They'll talk to the camp commander
and find you another place.

Please, look at me.

You're sending me away?

I don't know what we're going to do,
but you can't stay, and that's a fact.

Rose, I...
Don't.

Please.

Don't be upset.
Everything will be OK.

I will miss you.

I'll miss you too, Johann.

Now, Fred...
Oi, you! Get your hands off her!

Fred...

You bloody Nazi!
Don't!

Stop this, or I will hurt you!

Fred!
That's enough, now! Stop it, Fred.

Fred, you stop it!

That's enough! You - get going.

Leave off, Fred!

You come back here, and I'll kill
you!

Inside. I want to talk to you.

Let go. You're hurting me!

Rose!
Leave it. Get walking.

Oh, no! He's had you, hasn't he?

He's been in my bed and my wife.

Don't be disgusting.

That's right. You're too weak to take it out
on him, so you belt your wife, instead.

Mr Phelps?

Peter? My name is Foyle.

Do you remember Dr Worth?

Do you know who I mean?

What did you see?

I saw the blood.

I saw the blood.

What else did you see?
I saw the blood.

It's all right.

It's all right, Peter.

Hello.
Hello.

You found Sir John and Lady Muriel,
then?

And now you're catching their
supper.

If I get lucky.

Are you a doctor, then?

Yes.

How do you make people better...

when they've gone a bit barmy?

Often people get better just by talking
about the things that have upset them.

I hate the Jerries. Don't you?

Why did you run away, Tommy?

This woman in Bethnal Green -
I took her a telegram.

Found her in the back yard, beating
this old rug on the washing line.

She looks at it, hands it back and
asks me to read it for her.

Her husband, he was in the Navy.

His ship had been sunk. He...

She just starts screaming.

Lays into me with the beater, going,

"Get away! Get away, you little
bastard!"

Why did she do that?

I don't get it.

Why did she do that?

Tommy...

this lady was out of her mind with
sorrow.

When people lose their loved...

She lashed out at you just because
you were there.

If she were here now, she would want
to hold you and say sorry to you.

This...wasn't your fault.

No?
No.

OK. Thanks.

Your family will be worried.
They should know you are safe.

We should tell the police where you
are, by the way.

I'm not going back to London.

I'm staying here.

Nothing bad ever happens here.

Johann, kommst du mit zum Essen?
Nein, ich bin nicht hungrig.

All right, sir?

Listen. It's been quite a day, and
I'm going to walk. You go home.

Good night, sir.
Good night.

Mr Foyle!

Doctor.

Will you join me?
It's the new Bing Crosby.

Er...not quite my cup of tea,
frankly.

Ah, sentimental music, Mr Foyle -
it always touches me.

You're looking better.
I did something useful today.

Maybe there is a point, after all.

Ah, curtain up. I found the boy -
Tommy. He's with the Sackvilles.

Right. Good night.

Oh, Rose.

I'm sorry about this.

Whatever's the matter?

Steady!

You left early.
What's going on, Sam?

Oh, one of the POWs escaped from the
camp.

Really?
It's Johann, Rose.

Johann? Why would he have done that?

He got away last night.
Are you all right?

Listen. I've got to get to work.
I'm sorry - I'm already late.

'Achtung! Achtung!'

Never had a minute's bother with him.

Did what he was told. Got on with his
work.

I wish they were all like him.

Why do you think he cleared off?

I...don't rightly know.

He's not daft enough to try getting
back to Germany, is he?

Do his bit, now their backs are
against the wall?

Oh, what's he gonna do?
Swim the Channel?

Doesn't make sense, does it?

Anyway, he's not that kind of lad.

No Nazi, you mean?
Well, he said he hates soldiering.

He's a farm boy. Likes animals.

Was he his usual self yesterday
afternoon?

Nothing out of the ordinary?
Just a normal day.

Took him to the farm in the morning,
brought him back in the evening.

And everything was all right?
Yeah. I don't understand it.

I mean, I think he was happy here.
You know?

Damn and blast! There's got to be a
few here somewhere.

Ah!

Oh...

Are you spying on me, girl?

Couldn't Tommy do that for you, Sir
John?

I know he's here.

No, he's not.

He was seen. Someone spoke to him
not far from here.

You misunderstand me.

He was here, but he is no longer.

I don't understand.
He went out fishing.

Something for the supper.

He never came home.
We haven't seen him since.

'We're worried about him. Keep hoping he's going
to come through the door with a nice, fat trout.'

Johann?

Johann?

Where's Johann, Mummy?

Come on. Let's go down to the lake.

See if the ducks are there.

Be careful, Daniel. It's dangerous.

What's that, Mummy?
What?

Down there - look.

That's him.

Sir, there's something on the back
of the head. A wound.

How's that happened, do you think?

Well, he could have fallen.

Trying to get away, stumbling along
in the dark.

Full moon last night, wasn't it?

Or he was hit.

He is a German, after all.
That's enough motive for some.

Rose?

Go and play, Daniel.

Where have you been?

I've been worried.

- Johann's dead.
- What?

In the lake.

His head...

He got out of the camp?

Did you see him here? Did he come
here last night?

No.

I don't know. I...

Daniel, will you stop doing that?

You'd better pull yourself together.
The police'll be here soon.

Did you find the boy at the
Sackvilles'?

Tommy Crooks? No, sir.

He didn't come home from a fishing
trip.

They don't know where he is.

I wouldn't normally, but under the
circumstances,

I feel I ought to tell you.

Mrs Dawson spent the night with me
last night.

She turned up at my doorstep, very
upset.

She and her husband had an argument
about Johann Schultz.

I see.

So, he left here at the usual time
yesterday?

Yes.
That was the last you saw of him?

Because where his body was found suggests
that he was either on his way here or...

coming back from here.

But erm...you couldn't confirm that?

No.

But I gather you weren't here last
night.

I stayed with Sam.

Any particular reason for that?

I had some shopping to do in town.
I didn't want to cycle back in the blackout.

Hmm.

What about you, Mr Dawson?
What about me?

Were you here last night?

Yeah. I was here all night.

I had a bit to drink. I fell asleep.

I didn't see him.

How difficult was it, coming back home,
after five years in a prisoner-of-war camp,

to find a German working on your
farm?

Well, he did his job.

Impossible not to understand whatever resentment
you might have felt, in the circumstances.

So, I didn't like him.

Not a crime, is it?

We're fighting the bastards, for
God's sake.

But I didn't kill him, if that's
what you're thinking.

How did YOU get on with him?

He was a lovely boy.

I'm so sad he's dead.

I don't know how I'm going to
explain it to my son. He adored him.

To think of him shut away in
that place - it's unbearable to me.

- It has to be that way.
- You know that.

Hold me.

Kiss me.

Chief Superintendent.
Excuse me. I should have knocked.

I'll come back.

Mrs Phelps, I've been to the asylum
to see your husband.

Have you?

How is he?

He's in a very bad way.

Joy...

Mrs Phelps is under great strain.
She needs a great deal of support.

Yeah, I can see.

How's er...Dr Novak, by the way,
since he's been back at work?

I wanted him to take more time off.

I'm concerned about him.

What do you make of him claiming
responsibility for Dr Worth's death?

Josef's a good man.

Compassionate, kind.

But who knows what men are capable
of when pushed to the limit?

It may seem a truism, Mr Foyle,

but all of mankind's most impenetrable
secrets lie inside the head.

Disturbing you?

You don't look very well.

Do you know what is definition of a
psychiatrist?

A person trained at length and great
expense to help other persons go mad.

Perhaps I shouldn't be asking for
your help, then.

In spite of you having seen him, the
boy seems to have gone missing again.

Odd. Why should he do that?

And it seems that...you were the
last to see him.

How was he?

Calm. We had a good talk. There was a distressing
incident at work. That's why he ran away.

And where did you see him?
At the pond, fishing, quite happily.

I should also mention that I've been
to see Peter Phelps.

I've told you who killed that shabby
little man, Worth.

Yes, well...I'd say you didn't have
it in you to kill.

I think you're allowing friendship to
interfere with the prosecution of your job.

It never has before.

I'd also say you're ignoring the
lessons of recent history.

Think of all those men who led such
unremarkable lives till '39.

We gave them a uniform, a gun and a
mandate.

Kill, we said. And they have,
unblinkingly, in vast numbers.

Mr Foyle, I sent off the coupon.
Excellent. What coupon's that?

From the paper. The football pools.
The War Cup. They're playing tomorrow.

Wonderful.
I must say,

I had to laugh when I saw your line.

- Well, I filled it in solely with your
- Amusement in mind

Port Vale have as much chance of
getting a draw at Arsenal

as I have of winning the Derby on a
seaside donkey.

Right.
My! What system did you use, sir?

I used the random system, Sergeant.

But you can't do that, sir.

No, you have to look at the teams, work out which
is better and how, and decide. That's how you win.

Well, science was never my strong
point.

Well, we'll see which comes out on top,
shall we, sir? Science or chance.

We will.

Sir, we've had the MO's report on
Johann Schultz.

Ah, right.

Port Vale - what a lovely name.
It sounds such a peaceful place.

Where is it, exactly?

Somewhere up north.

He can't say exactly what caused the
head injury.

There were fragments of stone in the
wound,

but whether they're the result of a
fall or a blow, he can't say.

Mm-hm.
But he did find something else.

There was no water in his lungs.
He didn't drown.

He was dead before he went into the
lake.

Right.

Someone killed him?

Looks like it, yes.

Jesus! That's...

I need a smoke.

You liked him, didn't you?

Bloody hell.

What happened between Fred Dawson
and Johann yesterday?

Nothing happened.

He thought there was something going
on between Johann and Rose.

Yesterday afternoon, it all blew up.
Bit of a fight. Nothing much.

Fred was no match for Johann.
I took him away.

Fred and Rose had things to sort
out.

When Johann escaped, do you think it
was to go back to Down End Farm?

I don't know.
Maybe he was worried about Rose.

She was...kind to him.

Fred - very angry yesterday?

A bit.

How angry?

Look, it's not going to be me that
puts the noose round Fred's neck.

Just for killing a Jerry.

But if he'd done or said anything he
perhaps shouldn't have,

you'd tell us, wouldn't you?

Of course.
And you'd tell us because,

German or not, whether you liked him
or not,

this man's been beaten to death and
that's wrong. You'd agree?

Yes.

How angry?

He said, if he ever came back to the
farm again, he'd kill him.

There. I've said it.

God forgive me.

I'm under arrest?

There are questions you need to answer
about the death of Johann Schultz.

Oh, Fred...

Please, if you'll come with us.

Oh, Sam...

I know.

It's going to be all right, Rose.

What if he did it?

I'm telling you - I never saw him
again.

I downed half a bottle of Scotch and
passed out. I didn't wake till dawn.

Well, that's fine, except that nobody can
vouch for it - you were on your own.

Yes.

What can be vouched for is your
attack on Mr Schultz...

No, that's...
..the reason for your attack...

I was angry - I admit that.

..And your threat to kill Mr Schultz
if he came back.

I didn't mean it!
So, on the face of it,

it looks to us as if that's what
happened.

I didn't mean it. It was just one of
those things you say!

It was just one of those things you
say.

I didn't kill him.

And if he came back, I didn't see
him.

Sergeant, look after Mr Dawson in
there, would you, for a moment?

Sir.

'We now bring you a further dispatch from
our Moscow correspondent, Alexander Werth,

who was with the Red Army when it liberated the Nazi
concentration camp at Majdanek in Eastern Poland.'

'Nothing in my experience could have
prepared me

for the image that greeted us on our
arrival earlier today.

Row upon row of drab huts, containing
horrors that defy imagination,

that were nevertheless arranged in front
of us like some scene from hell...'

I just wondered if there was any
news on my lad.

He was staying with the old couple,
after all, but he's gone.

Well, where's he gone?

You haven't seen him?
No.

Well, if he's not with you, and he's
not with them...

Run off again?

I don't know what's wrong with that lad.
I mean, I don't know what to say to him.

Jeannie would have got through to
him. She was good at that.

Your wife? She's passed away?

Last July. Just after Tommy came
home.

She was in a baker's on the Commercial
Road, getting a loaf for his sandwiches.

Doodlebug.
Killed everyone in the place.

I'm sorry.

Tommy was the first one there.

You know, what he must have seen,
it don't bear thinking about.

But he never cried.

He always said he didn't want the war to end,
so he could join up and get his own back.

Revenge, you mean?
Oh, yeah. Hates them, he does.

I don't know what he'd do if he met
a Jerry in the street.

We know that Tommy was out and about
the day that Schultz escaped.

Dr Novak saw him barely half a mile
from the lake,

so it gives him an opportunity, as
well as a motive.

And how old is he?

He's 15, but he's a big lad for his
age.

And now he's disappeared.

At first I thought it was a
coincidence, but now I'm not so sure.

Well, the sooner we find him the
better.

Will you get that?

Hello?

Yes.

Yes, he's here.

It's the gentleman from the BBC you
were after, sir.

Good afternoon. May I speak to the
manager, please?

Yes, of course.

He's gone to the pictures?

Yeah, I'm sure there's method in his
madness.

I wonder what's on.

Sir?

All right.

Sir, how long do you think you're
going to be?

About an hour.

Last look around, before we hand
back the keys.

Well, I was thinking about Tommy.

If I was in trouble, where would I
hide?

And he lived here for four years.
Had the run of the place.

He knew it better than anybody.

I was wondering: could I take a
look?

Do.

And nobody's been in here - right?

No, sir, apart from me and one of our
men, when we were doing the search.

Find anything?
Not really.

Ah...you're back.
Have you finished in here yet?

Almost.
Good.

We're desperately short of space.

Mm-hm.

What does "not really" mean?

There's a copy of a letter.

A reference from Dr Campbell in
support of Worth's job application.

It doesn't quite tally with what
Campbell said about him.

Perhaps he was just desperate to get
rid of him.

Is that it?
Yes, sir.

We've been through all the packing
cases.

His desk, the rest of the furniture.

Pictures off the walls, rugs off the
floor. Up the chimney.

The only thing we haven't done is
lift the floorboards.

Maybe the murderer found what he was
looking for, after all.

Where do...

"..all of mankind's impenetrable
secrets" lie, Milner?

Sorry, sir?

Ah, sir. We've finished with Dr
Worth's study.

Ah, good.

Compliments of DCS Foyle.

Thank you.

Hello?

Tommy, is that you?

Stay away.

Are you all right?
Leave me alone.

Look, I'm here to help you.

Sam?

Please, Tommy.

No-one's going to hurt you.

Why did you run away, Tommy?

I'm saying nothing.

You met the German, didn't you?

By the lake. Were you thinking about
what happened to your mum?

No! Don't come any closer.

Careful.
I'll jump! I'm not scared.

Looking for this?

Tell us what happened, Tommy.
I promise you it'll be for the best.

We know you didn't kill that man.

But you must have seen something.

I was trying my luck at the lake.
I got nothing in the pond.

Go on.

Two men - I heard them talking on
the path above the lake.

Then him - the one who fell - he
walked on.

But the other man picks something up
and he runs after the other bloke

and he hit him over the head, like
really hard, like this.

And then... Did you say his name was
Johann?

Was he really a Jerry?
He was a prisoner of war.

See, I never knew that.

That he was German.

Then what happened?

He fell down.

The other man bent down to look at
him,

and he put his head in his hands,
like this.

Then he rolled him into the lake.

Not 20 yards away from where I was
standing.

Who was it, Tommy?

Who killed Johann?

"Affair" makes it sound so grubby.

And that's not how it was.

But Worth was a nasty little shit.

He said something to me about Joy.

A lewd remark. I snapped at him.

And he laughed.

He knew.

And I made the mistake of writing to
Joy.

An affectionate letter.

I put it in the post-tray in the
staff sitting room.

Worth took it, and he used it.

If it ever got out - the wife of a
patient...

I'd have been ruined.

And poor Joy...

He forced me to write a glowing
reference for his job application.

I did it on condition I got the
letter back.

And he broke his word.
He said he'd keep it as insurance.

And he smiled.

He never should have smiled.

Iain...

Oh, I'm sorry...Mr Foyle.

I must make it clear that Joy knows
nothing of this.

She thinks her husband killed Worth.

What is it? What's... Is everything
all right? What's going on?

Mr Foyle.
Thank you.

Are you ready to order?

Could I have a cup of tea, please?

You're quiet today, even by your
standards.

Well, I know I've got to make a better
show of this than I did last time. Check.

I'm...surprised you have the time,
given everything that's on your plate.

Glad, of course, but...

And I'm also wondering how I'm going
to tell you.

Tell me what?
Well, firstly...

..we now know who killed Dr Worth.

And I'm relieved to be able
to tell you that it wasn't you.

Wasn't it?

Though I do now perhaps understand why
it is that you tried to take the blame.

It was Peter, wasn't it?

Well, I'd be very interested to hear
why you're so convinced it was.

Because when I went to Worth's study
that night, Peter was there.

'Kneeling over the corpse. Blood on
his hands. Completely gone.

What was he doing there?'

I felt desperate that I hadn't been
able to help him, that it was my fault.

Of course it was Peter.

It was Campbell.

But why? I don't understand.

Worth was blackmailing him because of
his relationship with Peter's wife.

But this, none of this...

Worth's murder or your belief that
Peter was responsible for it...

is the reason why you tried to take
your own life, is it?

And it wasn't until today that I
realised

that it wasn't even
what DOCTOR Worth had said to you...

It was what he said. Werth.
What's that?

..But what the BBC correspondent,
Alexander Werth,

had said in his report from Majdanek,

first broadcast, according to the BBC, the
morning I came to see you in your office,

describing the unimaginable horror
that had been uncovered there.

No, the point is, someone did imagine
it and then made it a reality...

for my family, amongst countless
others.

I was wrong to try to take my life.

We must carry on, however bleak the future
seems, however impossible it is to face it.

And I was wrong to take the blame
for Worth's death.

But when I came to myself in
hospital...

..it seemed I had betrayed my
murdered family.

I was alive and they were dead.

It was the guilt of the survivor,

and I had to take the blame for
something.

I had to find a reason for my
existence.

- And if I could help
- Peter in any way,

help give him time to recover...

I'm sorry.

I had news today.

From my contacts in Poland.

There were very few survivors in
Majdanek, but...

..among them, it seems,

my daughter Marianka...

It seems she is alive.

I'm very pleased to hear it.

You have been a good friend to me,
Christopher,

at a most difficult time in my life.

Well, the occasional game of chess,
Josef - it's not very much.

You listen. You understand.

I am so grateful.

But I think I have taught you too
well.

You have beaten me here for the
first time!

If you'll excuse me, I think I
should get back to work.

And secondly...

How was the film the other night?

Bing Crosby? Oh!

Silly and sentimental and quite
wonderful.

The print for that film didn't
arrive.

They showed Abbott and Costello,
instead.

They also showed Pathe News.

And the report from Majdanek was
unbearable.

Legs.

Sticking in the air, stiff with
death.

I couldn't watch it all.
You couldn't, either, could you?

'I left.

I don't know where I went.
I have no memory of anything.'

Until...

You met Johann.

He came out of nowhere.

'I looked up. I saw this face.'

Aus dem Weg!

'Out of my way.'
Dummkopf.

'I saw this uniform, and this rage
went through me like a fire.

I picked up a rock and...'

A moment.

That's all it took.

'But it will define my entire life.'

I killed a man. A boy.

Perhaps the circumstances...
No, they offer no excuse.

We are all tainted by this war,
in one way or another.

But not everyone commits murder.

Perhaps hearing him speak German?
Perhaps.

Or perhaps it was because he was up
there...

- and I was down there in
- The gutter, where all Jews...belong.

I had this evil taste in my mouth.

I spat it out.

That's all.

I became the enemy.

It's strange. I am a rational being.

I am a scientist.
I believe in free will.

And yet I cannot escape the fact

that the most important events of my
life have been dictated by chance.

I met my wife on a train I nearly
missed.

I evaded death at Majdanek because I
was at a symposium in Paris.

And I killed a man because I like
Bing Crosby and you do not.

If you had been there...

I'm sorry.

How did you know?

By chance...you were seen.

'Who?'

'By a troubled boy, to whom you
offered help.'

Oh.

Poor Tommy.

I wanna see my son.

- Don't give me that.
- This way, please.

Take your boots off, man.

They're not dirty.

Why can't you leave my Tommy alone?

Ain't you got no son of your own?

Not any more.

He was killed at Dieppe.

Right. Are you coming home, then?

Dunno.
Now, look here, you...

Don't shout at me!

Look...I know you've been through
it.

And I wish I could make it better.

But words can't do the job, even if
I had 'em, which I ain't.

I used to feel safe here.

Well, you can come and visit the
ruling classes in your holidays.

You know, if you really want to take
up this country life,

then do it when the war's finished,
eh?

Why do you want me to come back?
What does it matter to you?

Cos you're mine, damn it!

Cos I need you.

I can't bear that house without your
mum.

Come home, Tommy, please.

Yeah, OK, then, Dad.

I wanted to come and meet you.
Did you?

It's like you're coming home all
over again.

Yeah.

Are you going to be all right?
Don't know.

But I've got to try,
for all our sakes.

Especially his.

Come on. It's OK.

Come to your dad.

I'm sorry about everything.

I'm sorry about...your friend.

Were you and him...
Please.

I've got to ask, even if it's not
what I want to hear.

These last 18 months, I couldn't have
done without him, and that's the truth.

I was fond of him...

and he was sweet on me.

But the thing is, Fred...

I was waiting for you.

My sweetheart.

I'm hungry.

Are you hungry?

Let's go home.

Sergeant. What are you doing here?
I thought you'd gone.

Had to come back, sir.
You'll never guess. We've won!

The war?
The football pools.

Well, not the jackpot, but a tidy
old sum. A hundred quid.

Why? Who got the line?
Guess.

- Milner.
- Not one draw.

Not er...
No, sir.

Oh, I see. It's you or me, is it?
Yes, it is, sir.

And?

It's a classic case of beginner's
luck. Chance has won the day, sir.

Well, well, well. Thank you.
Port Vale drew with Arsenal?

Well, the Gunners were a player short.
They borrowed two of Port Vale's reserves.

What are you going to do with the
money, sir?

Well, I don't know. A hundred pounds.
That's quite a lot.

What do you think? A donation,
perhaps? One of the refugee funds?

Very good, sir. Yeah.
Yes. Good idea.

There's a Jewish refugee fund.
Sergeant, would you...?

Certainly, sir.

And hold back a fiver, and we'll get ourselves
the best meal that rations will allow.

Hooray! Followed by a film at the
Ruby! Bing at his best!

- Do we have to?
- # Ba-ba-ba

# Home, home on the range... #

Sad case, sir.

Yeah.