All language subtitles for Murder.She.Wrote.S05E14.From.Russia.With.Blood.1080p.AMZN.DD2.0.x265.HEVC-Bearfish_track3_[eng]

Oh, please, somebody!
Stop that man!

Lock all doors!

Stop where you are!
[gunshots]

[Jessica] Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

I am Lieutenant Alexandrov, K.G.B.

-Do you know what this is?
-M-microfilm.

The redhead at Charles’ table
was ordered to leave the country.

Am I being officially charged
with a crime?

Officially, not at the moment.

You don’t want
to engage the K.G.B.

you have the look of someone who has
just caught the canary in the cookie tin.

Yes. Yes, perhaps I have.

[man speaking Russian]

[continues in Russian]

[speaking Russian]

[woman sobs]

My deepest sympathy, madame.

Anton was a highly
valued employee...

of long standing.

My husband spoke of you often,
Minister Melnikov.

I am honored
by your presence.

Minister, I look forward
to seeing you on Friday.

Yes. Under more pleasant
circumstances.

[applause]

And I am delighted
to be among the American writers

whose books are just now being
translated into Russian.

Mrs. Fletcher,

we, too, are delighted,

but our delight
would be doubled

if your representatives
did not continually bring up

the subject of royalties.

[laughter]

But before we conclude

I would like to say,
on behalf of the Cultural Ministry,

that your participation
has added greatly

to the spirit of Glasnost.

Thank you, Mr. Minster.

But we shouldn’t forget someone
who has done so much

to make me feel a welcome part
of this exchange program

-my artist host, Sergei Chaloff.
-Da!

Jessica, is this what you do
every morning, run a dozen miles?

Sergei, we’re not running.
We’re walking.

Maybe that’s what
it feels like to you.

Come. Sit down.

Oh. Is there one square inch
of this city

that you haven’t seen?

Well, according to this, the Novodevichy
Convent should be up here somewhere.

Yes. And it’ll be there
20 minutes from now,

after my feet
get a chance to recover.

Mmm. You know, Sergei,
when you go to America,

you’re not gonna
make much of a tourist.

Ah. But I’ve already heard
about your tour buses, Jessica.

Well, I hate to
depress you, Sergei,

but they have yet
to invent a bus

that can climb the steps
of the Washington Monument.

Oh, come on. A quick tour around the
Novodevichy, and then we’ll have lunch.

Ah. That is a bribe
I cannot overlook.

[both chuckling]

[smooth music]

[continues]

[men speaking Russian]

I fail to see how
500,000 able-bodied men--

-Cyril?
-Could be absorbed into--

-Is that you, darling?
-Peggy Brooks!

What a delightful surprise!

I thought I spotted you at J.B. Fletcher’s
talk yesterday but wasn’t sure.

Yes, I was there. How dreadful
we missed one another.

My goodness. Sergei,
is security always this tight?

My dear Jessica, the crème de la crème
of the Kremlin hierarchy...

is here this evening.

I’m surprised we’re not
being strip-searched.

Cyril, I’m in rather
a new game for me.

Literary agent.
[chuckling]

How exciting.

Well, that is what has
brought me to Moscow.

With all this divine openness
Gorby came up with,

I’m on the hunt for some authentic
Soviet genius.

You still with
the British Embassy?

Cultural attaché.
Flitting between London and Moscow.

Matter of fact,
I’m escorting Sergei Chaloff tonight,

midnight flight to London.

Cyril, there he is.

I’d kill to meet him.

Sergei, may I introduce
Peggy Brooks.

I’m honored, Mr. Chaloff.
How do you do?

I’ve just finished the English
translation of your latest book.

Couldn’t put it down.

Cyril, be a love
and top up my Stoli.

Your trip to the West will make you
another Pasternak, another--

well, being another
Pasternak’s not bad.

-Who represents you in the West?
-No one, as yet.

Give me the opportunity.
I’ll make you a household word.

Perhaps you’ve an old,
unpublished novel in your drawer

that Hollywood
would die to buy.

I hardly think Hollywood would make
any movies of my old books.

Oh, darling!
They don’t have to make them.

They just have to buy them.

[giggling]

Hello, Mrs. Fletcher. I’m Bert Firman,
National Press Association.

-May I?
-Oh, yes. Yes, of course.

Sergei’s just gone off
to the buffet.

Actually, I’ve already
interviewed him.

It’s, uh, you I’d like
a story from.

Me? Oh, no, no.
I am a terrible interview.

Oh, don’t worry.
I’m a terrible reporter.

I must be.

Why else would I have been stuck on
the caviar circuit all these years?

Well, you must admit that dining on
Russian caviar is hardly getting stuck.

It’s from Iran.

[fanfare]

Comrades, Kremlin officials,

distinguished visitors,

a moment, please,

to raise your glasses in a toast

to one of our greatest
living writers,

a great patriot who journeys
tonight to London

and then on to
the United States of America

as part of an open
exchange of artists

between the world’s powers.

We salute you,

Sergei Chaloff.

[fanfare]

[ends]
[applause]

Jessica, I’ve heard a great
deal about your famous

New England clam chowder.

But believe me,
there is nothing better

than fine Russian caviar.

[band playing]

I hope for your sake that
this building is on fire.

I’m sorry to disturb you,
Minister,

-but that woman, Mrs. Brooks--
-Mrs. Brooks?

There are 200 foreign visitors
here tonight, Nikolai.

Who is Mrs. Brooks?

The redhead at Charles’ table.

When I was working
over at internal affairs,

the woman was ordered
to leave the country.

Irregularities on her
import-export license.

I see.

Then find out how she
imported herself again

before I export you
to Vladivostok.

When we get to Washington, the first thing
I want to see is a baseball game.

Well, I’m afraid the Senators
left there years ago.

They did? Where did they go?

Oh, to Minnesota, I think.
Or was it Kansas City?

Your--your congress
meets in Kansas City?

Oh, no, no,
no, no, no, no.

No, I was
talking about the Twins

who used to be the Senators.

[chuckling]

Sergei, is something wrong?
Are you all right?

Another brandy, sir?

No, thank you.
Not just now.

Oh. Mrs. Gorbachev also

is wearing a beautiful
gown tonight.

You see, just over here--oh!
I’m so sorry.

I should have
held it in my lap.

I’m sure there’s no damage.
Not to worry.

I--I assure you,
I am not so clumsy on the dance floor.

Will you allow me
to prove it?

Oh, of course.

Excuse us.

Sergei. That waiter-
he’s got my purse!

Please, somebody. Stop that man!
He’s got my purse!

[tray clatters]
[woman screms]

Jessica, wait. Jessica!

Lock all doors!
Stop him!

[chattering]

Mrs. Fletcher, come back. You--

[shouting in Russian]

Stop where you are!
Don’t move!

Drop it!
[gunshots]

Go back. Go back.

Mrs. Fletcher,
you shouldn’t be here.

We’d better get going.

I respectfully question
how and why

your security let a thief
with a gun into the building.

Obviously, he used
the employees’ entrance

where someone
was extremely lax.

But I shall get to
the bottom of it.

No, Minister. I shall.

Mrs. Fletcher,
I must take personal responsibility

for this, uh, disgracefully
inhospitable display.

But sadly, we, too, have our share of
petty thieves and hoodlums.

Minister.
[whispering]

Chief inspector Bernicker.
It was your purse, I gather.

Yes. Yes, it was.

I just received word
from hospital.

The thief died without
regaining consciousness.

Have your report
on my desk tonight.

Inspector Cyril Grantham,
British Embassy.

As this matter is
clearly of no concern

of myself or Mrs. Brooks,
who is also a British subject.

-My--
-Sir, please.

Let me sort everything out,

and then you’ll be
free to leave.

Mrs. Fletcher, you saw this man Dukhov
steal your purse?

Oh, yes, yes.
It was here at my place.

I left it here when I went off
to dance with Mr. Chaloff.

Exactly so, Chief Inspector.

Mrs. Fletcher,
please go through it

in case passport
or traveler’s checks...

fell out during
his attempted escape.

We can facilitate replacement.

Is there anything missing?

No, I, uh-
I don’t think so.

That’s very odd.

Canister of film.
I’ve never seen that before.

-This is not yours?
-Oh, no, no.

I left my camera and film
back in my room.

[rattling]

Fascinating.
Do you know what this is?

M-microfilm.

Indeed. Odd, madam.

This is your purse.
Have you some explanation?

Uh, well--I--no. I mean--

I’m sorry, Mrs. Fletcher, but your stay
in Russia has just been extended--

for how long, I cannot say.

[Jessica] Inspector, I told you.

I have no idea how that microfilm
got into my purse

or why that thief
ran off with it.

Unfortunately, our efficient
Russian security men

fired in self-defense,

and now the thief is
lying dead in a cold box

with two bullets in him.

So I am forced
to question you.

Remember, you are the one
who shouted to stop the man.

[knocking]

Good evening, Bernicker.

Madam Fletcher.

I don’t remember asking
your department for assistance.

Your department didn’t.
The microfilm, please.

Of course.
After I have viewed it.

This is homicide involving
a malicious shooting.

It is, therefore,
my jurisdiction.

The homicide involves microfilm
and an American writer

here on temporary visa.

My department is responsible.

As usual, comrade,
you are mistaken.

And you,
comrade Bernicker,

are being imprudent
and shortsighted, as usual.

Forgive me, madam Fletcher.

I am Lieutenant Alexandrov, K.G.B.

Oh, yes. The committee
for State Security.

Well, Lieutenant Alexandrov,

your State need not
feel insecure over me.

How long have you known
Sergei Chaloff?

Five days.
He’s my artist host during my visit.

Five days. Yet you have been
corresponding with him for six months.

Where did you get these?

Sergei Chaloff’s apartment.
Where else?

Well, stealing my personal
letters to him

certainly isn’t in
the spirit of glasnost.

Madam Fletcher, your artist host
was not always in favor.

And while the Kremlin
has encouraged his trip,

he has been
under surveillance.

He was but a few hours
from his flight.

He spends the evening with you,

and suddenly, microfilm
turns up in your purse.

Chaloff knew he was
being watched.

Is that why he put the film
in your purse?

Did he plan
to retrieve it later,

-or you were you to bring it to the West?
-Now just a moment.

Inspector, am I being
officially charged with a crime?

Officially, not at the moment.

Madam, a caution.

You are in a country
where people have been known

to spend years in the Gulag,
unofficially.

Mrs. Fletcher.

-Have you been charged?
-Not yet.

But they’re holding my passport.
Can Siberia be far behind?

Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that.
At least not yet.

They always lift passports

when they don’t know
what else to do.

So, who are you
working for?

Nobody!

I won’t print a word
till you’re safely out of the country.

Bert, I swear to you.
I know nothing about that film.

Oh. That’s not so good.

What do you mean?

[laughs]
You see, that’s the one legal concept

the Russians don’t seem to be
able to deal with--innocence.

"It follows that the first and last word
on the fate of Joseph Stalin"

"was always in the hands of the Russian
people, whether they knew it or not."

It makes less sense to me
each time I read it.

And why did he
write it in English?

So the West could read
his message without delay.

Years ago, his anti-Stalin ramblings

kept him an underground,
unpublished figure.

There is nothing new here.

But he names people
who are still alive,

people who hold
positions of power--

the Central Committee,
the Politburo, even your K.G.B.

look there--Gregor Alexandrov,
your own father.

Would he do something
to prevent this from surfacing?

Or would Sergei Chaloff?
He is mentioned on page two.

And on four is Cultural
Minister Melnikov

who was low-level
Stalin minion after the war.

Seemingly valueless, and, yet,
this waiter Dukhov dies for it.

[man] I tell you what. I take you to
Gorky Park. Only 200 kopecks.

Thank you, but, uh,

I just really want
the American embassy.

Ah, embassy. What is that?
Just a building.

But Gorky Park,
there is an experience.

Only 150 kopecks.
Special price. I can arrange.

No. Just the embassy, please.

Oh, sure, I get it.
You want to shop, right?

You want to go Gum’s. Okay.

After you go to embassy,
we go Gum’s.

I take you inside myself.
I know everybody.

Only 100 kopecks.
Nobody cheats you. I see to it.

I wait, take you to Gum’s.

No Gum’s.
Thank you.

The time is 11:15.

Mrs. Fletcher has
just left the cab

and is entering
the American embassy.

[woman]
Mrs. Fletcher, good morning.

Eleanor Hayes,
Liaison Desk Officer

to the Assistant Under
Ambassador for American affairs.

Yes, Miss Hayes.
Good morning.

I’m sorry. The ambassador
had to attend

an urgent meeting
at the Kremlin.

You may sit.

I see your passport
is being held by the militia

because somebody hid
a roll of microfilm in your purse

at last night’s
Cultural Ministry reception.

Exactly.

I hear everybody
who was anybody was there.

Well, uh, yes, I suppose so.
I really wouldn’t know.

Evelyn Brinley said that Mrs. Gorbachev
looked absolutely radiant

in a peach satin
off-the-shoulder.

Course, I only have
her word for that.

Evelyn’s become very cozy
with one of our military attaches,

which explains
how she got invited

when higher-ranking
staff personnel did not.

Uh, Miss Hayes, my passport.

Oh, yes. Of course. Well.

First we must fill out
a few simple forms.

Tax dollars at work?

I’m sorry about
some of the fine print.

Several times, I’ve mentioned to Miss
Brinley the wisdom of simplifying forms,

but, of course, she’s been too busy
with this and that.

Oh, dear. I seem to
have mislaid my glasses.

Well, I’ll just
have to manage.

[whispering]
Miss Hayes.

Uh, what are they looking for?

Excuse me.
My name is Fletcher.

I may have left
a pair of eyeglasses here

at the reception last night.

One moment, please.

-Yes. A pair of glasses was turned in.
-Oh.

Room 311.

-[speaking Russian]
-Thank you.

-Mrs. Fletcher.
-Yes.

I believe that my glasses
were turned in to your office.

Yes, the glasses.

-We did not know whose they were.
-Oh, thank you.

Nikolai.

Oh. Mrs. Fletcher.
How delightful.

To what do we owe
this honor?

She left her glasses
last night, Minister.

Please come in.

-Do, please.
-Thank you.

[door closes]

Your unfortunate business
with the militia--it has been concluded?

Well, I’m afraid they’re still holding
my passport, pending an investigation.

How very distressing for you.

-Have you been to your embassy?
-Just now.

You acted wisely.
I, too, have not escaped

from the censure
of the militia,

and, uh, as a matter of fact,
the K.G.B. was here today.

They took away the files
of Mr. Dukhov.

-Very thorough, the K.G.B.
-So I’ve learned.

Perhaps I can insure

that they do not abuse
their power at your expense.

Comrade Chaloff, your fingerprints
were on the film’s tube.

Anton was your oldest friend.

You attended his funeral,
and you are about to leave the country.

All right.
That is enough.

I did attempt
to get it to London.

Mrs. Fletcher’s purse
was only a momentary convenience.

Now, comrade,
what is on the film?

I don’t know.
To that I swear.

You swore you knew nothing
about the microfilm.

Just what is the truth?

[phone rings]
Bernicker.

Yes, Minister Melnikov.

-Yes, Minister.
-We have questioned her at length,

and I have concluded that Mrs. Fletcher
is merely an innocent bystander.

Thank you, Inspector.

Mrs. Fletcher,
that is the least I could do.

Your passport awaits you.
Oh. Thank you, Minister.

I really do appreciate
your cutting through the red tape.

Bureaucratic paralysis?
Uh, paper pushing.

Oh!
[laughs]

I must remember that. Red tape!
[chuckling]

[door closes]

[Melnikov] Mrs. Brooks,
you claim to be literary agent.

Yet, according to
internal affairs,

you were once involved
in the import-export business.

Several of the items
that you sold in London

were precious icons

that were reported missing from the
Novodevichy Monastery here in Moscow.

That was my husband’s business.

We are now divorced.

Inspector, detaining Mrs. Brooks

is a clear violation
of her rights.

Couldn’t the microfilm we found in Mrs.
Fletcher’s purse have some literary value?

If you’d care
to show me the film,

I'll give you the benefit
of my expertise.

Inspector, I merely promised
Sergei a small fortune.

Is that a crime in Russia?

Some years, yes. Some, no.

[phone rings]

Bernicker.

Yes, Mrs. Fletcher.

You are where? What?

Apparently, he ran to this exit door,
expecting it to be open.

It appears to be 8mm,

the same caliber
as the two bullets

taken from Dukhov’s body.

Inspector, I was in the corridor
close to the shooting,

and I only heard two shots.

Alexei shot low
to hit him in the leg.

Ivan shot high,

trying to hit him in the
shoulder of his gun arm.

Yes, but he must have missed.

The killer could have been
in this portion of the corridor

with a silencer.

Mrs. Fletcher,

this clears up something
that has been troubling me.

Look here--the autopsy
report on Dukhov.

Oh. I wish I could read it.

Oh, forgive me.
It says that two bullets entered the body-

right leg and heart.

The bullet that pierced Dukhov’s heart
entered the body at an angle,

which supports your theory
of an assassin with a silencer.

Madam Fletcher, when you followed
the officers who pursued Dukhov,

-just where was Sergei Chaloff?
-Well, not with me.

Chaloff’s fingerprints were
on the film’s canister.

Also, he admitted
hiding the film in your purse.

Oh, I’m sorry, but I doubt
that that is possible.

Nonetheless, it is true.

In addition, he has confessed,
of his own free will,

to trying to smuggle the film
to the West.

No. He would never
involve me in that.

Madam, you know only the toothless lion
in his waning years.

As a young man, Chaloff was
a dangerous activist

who, even now, it seems,

has some bite left in him.

Miss Hayes, the militia
won’t tell me

where they’ve taken Sergei.

I am sorry, Mrs. Fletcher,
but I cannot help you.

Now listen. I don’t have time
for protocol or paperwork.

And I am telling you, this embassy
does not and cannot involve itself

in the detention
of Soviet citizens.

Yes, yes, yes.
I understand.

Thank you very much.

Mrs. Fletcher! The inspector tells me
you have cause to celebrate.

Oh, I... I do?

Your passport’s been returned,
as has mine.

I’m off to book
a flight home.

Well, I’m afraid mine
is going to have to wait.

Now listen. Think carefully.

Do either one of you recall
seeing Sergei in the ballroom

when those officers
were pursuing Mr. Dukhov last night?

Melnikov ordered
all the doors closed.

-It was pretty chaotic.
-Well, I couldn’t swear to what happened.

People were running everywhere.

Well, thanks awfully, Cyril.

-Do give me a ring when you’re in London.
-Of course.

You, too, Mrs. Fletcher.
Love to see you again,

even if it’s only social.
[chuckles]

Yes.

Mr. Grantham, I’m terribly
concerned about Sergei.

They’ve jailed him.

Yes. My embassy
is aware of the charges.

I realize this is none
of your affair,

but you do know Moscow
like a native,

and I desperately need
to locate Sergei.

Perhaps I could make
some inquiries.

Jessica!

I don’t believe this.

-How did you find me?
-Mr. Grantham.

We only, uh,
have five minutes.

Sergei, I don’t know
what they’ve told you,

but in the shooting of this man,
Dhukov, they found a third bullet,

and they think that
the fatal shot

could have been fired by someone
other than the two security men.

I see. So now the picture becomes clearer.

But, Sergei, they told me

that you confessed to putting the film
in my purse.

Yes. It’s true.

It was vital I get
the film to the West.

I knew my bags would be
searched at the airport,

so I was carrying the film
at the reception

when I saw that waiter again.

I remembered him
from Anton’s funeral,

and I knew he must be
working for the K.G.B.

Can you be sure?

I have been under surveillance,

and this man appears
in two different roles.

I had to hide the film,

perhaps retrieve it from
Jessica after the reception.

Yes, but what, exactly,
was on the film?

Anton never told me.

He insisted it was
for my own safety.

Well, then Dhukov
must have seen you

put the film into my purse.

Then who killed Dhukov?

[chuckles]
Yes. I see it now.

Someone from the K.G.B.
followed the two militia men

and shot Dhukov
during the cross fire.

The microfilm and whatever
secrets it contains

is back in the hands
of the K.G.B.

Dhukov can’t talk and
involve his K.G.B. bosses.

But wait. We all went through
the metal detector,

and you had no gun.

But I also have no alibi.

When the militia chased Dhukov,

I started to follow, then took
a wrong turn in the corridor.

[lock clicks]
I know. I acted foolishly.

I have waited a lifetime
for my moment of fame,

but Anton was the first
to encourage me to write.

He was a friend for life.

I could not turn him down.

Sergei.

[buzzer buzzes]

You know, Sergei makes sense.

The K.G.B. and the military
are framing him.

If only he had an alibi,

and if only he hadn’t
admitted hiding the film.

-But isn’t there something that we can do?
-We?

My dear Mrs. Fletcher, I’m a career man
at the embassy... books, the ballet,

-a sort of cultural hanger-on.
-Oh, yes, yes, yes. Of course.

Taking on the K.G.B. is, uh--

you have your passport and most likely
some memorable photos of Red Square.

Believe me, you don’t want
to engage the K.G.B.

yes, but I also don’t wish to...
to leave Moscow

remembering Sergei Chaloff
locked there in that cell.

Yes.

Huh. Right.

[knocking]
Come in.

And, uh, what will the Gorbachevs
be serving for dessert?

Right. Thank you.

Scoops of vanilla ice cream
with raspberries. Thrilling!

Okay, okay. Don’t let the size
of my office fool you.

I’m grossly underpaid too.

Bert, you need a story,
and I need help.

Supposing I give you a scoop
without the raspberries?

Shoot.

Sergei Chaloff is being held
in the Lefortovo prison

for a murder probably
committed by the K.G.B.

Mrs. Fletcher, I think one of
the guys down the hall

would be better
covering this kind of story.

I see.

I’d rather have
a small office with no view

than a large cell with a sweeping
panorama of the Siberian Alps.

Look, Bert, I’m frightened too,
but if I have to go this alone,

that’s what I’m
gonna have to do.

Oh, what the hell?

They say the Siberian Alps

are damn breathtaking
this time of year.

[Alexandrov] Most American citizens
believe all Soviets want to get out.

You, Madam Fletcher,
are living proof--

even Americans
wish to remain.

Well, my visa
expires tomorrow.

Lieutenant, this man Dhukov,

why was he after the film?

And how about a straight answer
for once, Alexandrov?

He was working
for you boys, right?

If we were as evil
as you both claim,

we would not hire a thief
to steal microfilm.

We would have simply
taken it ourselves

and made Sergei Chaloff disappear.

But we don’t do that...

anymore.

Just what is on the film?

Uh, that falls under the jurisdiction
of the Code Department.

With all your departments,

I have yet to encounter
a Department of Justice.

Prior to your visit, we acquainted
ourselves with your activities,

particularly those
bewildering occasions

when you insinuated yourself
into official police business.

Well, once in a while,
I try to help. Yes.

Forgive me, Madam, but your
dossier reveals you to be

a pleasant, if somewhat
tiresome, busybody

whose interference would not
and will not be tolerated in Soviet Union.

-Hey, hey. Now wait a minute, Alexandrov-
-As for you, Mr. Firman,

I would not print
any unsubstantiated material.

Glasnost is not
a license to commit libel.

Good day.

We’d better get out
of here while we can.

Bert, wait for me outside.

If I don’t come out in 20 minutes,
call the embassy.

M-Mrs. Fletcher,
don’t mess with these guys.

Twenty minutes.

[speaking Russian]

I’m sorry. I forgot my handbag.

Mrs. Fletcher.

What a delightful coincidence
bumping into you here.

No coincidence, Mr. Grantham.

Just before I left,
I caught a glimpse of a bowler hat

and umbrella
hanging in the closet.

Not exactly K.G.B. issue.

I’m here simply to

clear up the paperwork
on Sergei’s aborted trip to London.

Yes, well,
that very well may be,

but if you were listening in the other
room, you know why I’m here.

Yes. Yes. To prove
that Sergei is innocent,

and, by extension,
that one of us is guilty.

Well, I’m sorry
to disappoint you,

but when that poor fellow
Dhukov was shot,

I was on the dance floor,
and Mrs. Brooks can verify the fact.

Yes, of course.

But, unfortunately, Mrs. Brooks
is in London.

Madam Fletcher,
the K.G.B. is aggressively attempting

to solve this matter
with the militia.

We have even offered Sergei
Chaloff reduced sentence

if he tells us what is on microfilm.

But as you are aware,
he insists he doesn’t know.

Is there any harm in digging
into the facts again,

perhaps Dhukov’s past?

If Inspector Bernicker wishes
to show you Dhukov’s file,

that’s his concern.

Oh, please, Lieutenant. Don’t send me on
another wild goose chase.

You know very well, and so do I,
that you have Dhukov’s file.

Murder victim falls under
Homicide’s jurisdiction.

You mean you never had it?

Correct.

So, go... bother the inspector.

Yes. Yes, I certainly will.

Mr. Grantham,

indulge my curiosity.

Are you a Russian who was
educated in a British school

or simply an Englishman
turned traitor?

Mrs. Fletcher, my car is outside.
May I give you a lift?

No, thanks.

You’ve already taken me
for one ride.

And there was Cyril Grantham,
as large as life,

making himself very much
at home in the K.G.B. office.

Cyril is British,
but he works for us.

Of course, he also works for
British Intelligence.

So we feed him misinformation
to take back to their side.

That way, we know
that the half-truths

that we tell him
are really lies.

And what about the
half-truths he tells you?

Please.
Don’t open a can of caviar.

[scoffs]

Is that what you call
Glasnost?

No. I call it business as usual.

I’m sorry.
When the K.G.B. kept

the autopsy and ballistics report,

I thought they were also getting
Dhukov’s employment records,

since this case is
involving state security.

But they swear
that they don’t have them.

-Which means...
-Which means what, Mrs. Fletcher?

You have the look of someone who has
just caught the canary in the cookie tin.

Yes. Yes. Perhaps I have.

Why must we keep
going over this?

[Jessica]
Sergei, are you positive

that Anton wrote this?

The perfect English,
the diatribe against the Stalin regime-

[chuckles]
it is pure Anton!

Yes, but the Eenglish
isn’t perfect.

Mrs. Fletcher, please.

Inspector, Mrs. Fletcher
formerly taught english,

-If you didn’t know.
-I knew.

"And even as the Nazis
invaded Leningrad, it is"--

"is"? No, no.
That should be "was."

Here’s another mistake
at the top of the next page.

"Time against humanity that labels
the ’aggressor’ a predatory wolf."

Oh, obviously he meant "crime"
against humanity, not "time."

"Time" makes no sense.
Not by itself.

But did you notice each one
of these mistakes, or misprints,

is at the bottom of the page
and at the top of the next page?

Uh, could we begin again?

Please. I know it all by heart.

"It follows that the first
and the last word on the fate

of Joseph Stalin was always"--

Inspector, say that again.

-"The first and the last word"--
-That’s it!

How wonderful!
You’ve cracked the code!

-Him?
-Oh, yes. I see!

Take the first and the last word
on each page, put it together,

and you have the crime
that we’re after.

"It is--
[slide projector clicks]

"time that--
[clicks]

"the terrible truth--
[clicks]

be revealed."
[laughs]

Oh, we are planning
on about 200,

and they will be entertained
by the Moscow Ballet.

-Good afternoon.
-Oh, Inspector.

Mrs. Fletcher.

Well, I have my story,
so I’ll be going.

Bert, uh, I wouldn’t
rush out quite so fast.

-No?
-Minister,

isn’t this something that you
have been after, the microfilm?

Inspector, am I to be
continually harassed

over some minor slipup
in my department?

Ironically, Minister,

it was a slipup between
these two gentlemen’s departments

that actually tripped you up.

Madame, are you now involved
in my ministry’s security precautions?

Oh, no, no, no.

It was something you
mentioned the other day

that, uh, stuck in my mind.

As a matter of fact,
the K.G.B. was here today.

They took away the files
of Mr. Dukhov.

The K.G.B. thought the militia
was getting the file,

and militia assumed
K.G.B. was handling it.

In truth, no one
bothered you for it.

And you are?

Lieutenant Fyodor Alexandrov, K.G.B.

Ah. Yes.

The fact is, Minister,

Dhukov got the job
at the reception

because you hired him.

That is ridiculous.
Why should I bother to hire a waiter?

[Alexandrov]
To steal microfilm for you.

But once Madam Fletcher
saw Dhukov steal her purse,

you had to be sure if he was
captured he would not talk.

That is more ridiculous.

How was I supposed to get into
the reception with a weapon?

Security was airtight.

Well, not, I’m afraid,
for the host.

I noticed something that night,

but I didn’t think
much about it.

After the toasts,
you were called to the foyer.

But you didn’t pass through
the metal detector

like everyone
else was using.

I’m pretty sure that you never
submitted to any kind of search,

nor, as Cultural Minister,
were you asked to.

You’re wrong, Madam.

When Dhukov fled,

I remained in the hall
and ordered them to seal all the exits.

Only partly true, Minister.

When Mrs. Fletcher
called for help,

you did tell the guards
to seal off the building.

But as head of the ministry,
your moves went unchallenged.

And when everyone’s attention
was directed to the chase,

I suspect that you went to the basement
corridor through a different route.

That is absurd!

I had no reason.

I warn you, gentlemen,

I have good friends
on the Central Committee.

One telephone call.

Before you are making
one telephone call,

perhaps you would like
to read this.

It’s all very carefully
documented on the microfilm--

Anton’s memoirs in code,
names and dates.

They tell of a young
Russian Officer Melnikov

who collaborated
with the Nazis.

Anton knew everything.

We were young soldiers together
in Leningrad at the time of the siege.

He suffered most cruelly.

But I was able to insure
my survival.

Then after the war,

Anton was unable
to publish his books.

He came to me.

I was rising
in the ministry,

and I was able to find him jobs so that
at least he could feed his family.

He kept silent...

in exchange for a lifetime...

of protection.

His... and mine.

And then when he was dying,
I suppose,

he decided that he must
free his tortured soul.

Uh, my story.

We will decide what is
published about this and when.

But he will be tried.

You have been most helpful
to us, Madam Fletcher.

We thank you.

[man speaking Russian on P.A.]

-Mrs. Fletcher
-[man on P.A.] Attention, passengers.

-Soyuz Airlines Flight 10... [unclear]
-Pleased that I have caught you.

A little token of my thanks,
some chocolates to enjoy on the flight.

Oh, thank you very much.

[laughs]

Tell me. What will happen
to Sergei Chaloff?

That situation is very grave.

I’m afraid that it will be
at least six weeks...

before he is permitted
to travel in your country.

Ah. I see.

And what about Minister Melnikov?

He will be punished, of course.

Oh, yes. But not as
an American might expect.

-Retirement in disgrace, perhaps.
-For murder?

The Soviet hierarchy has a very
protective attitude towards its own.

Too much dirty linen on the
line, people might wonder if...

all the clothes
are not soiled.

Of course, I do not
condone such things.

But I am merely
a poorly paid policeman.

Again, thank you.

Thank you very much.

I think that you may find
the almond nougat

particularly interesting.