Original subtitles

PEOPLE CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY

Ladies and gentlemen.

Ladies and gentlemen, silence, please.

Thank you.

I, Bertrand Willis Gander, returning officer

for the Parliamentary Division of South East Anglia,

do declare the results of the election held this day

to be as follows.

William Arthur Frederick Briggs, 13,847.

PEOPLE CHEERING AND APPLAUDING

Michael Osborne Dyter, 17,152.

CROWD CHEERING AND APPLAUDING

I, therefore, declare Michael Osborn Dyter

to have been duly elected.

CROWD CHEERING AND APPLAUDING GUN FIRES

WOMAN SCREAMS

Come along, dear. Now, don't lag behind.

We've a lot to see, and I don't think we should...

WOMAN SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY

Excuse me.

I'm the president of the Bentwood Ladies' Guild.

You may remember I wrote to you about the guide tour.

Guide tour, madam?

Yes. It is happening every Saturday night now,

and the police seem quite unable to stop these young girls.

I think you should see your local MP.

That's why we've come to the House. You are Sir Gerald?

I'm afraid I can't claim that honour. Excuse me, ladies.

Hope he isn't from the Opposition. You can never tell these days...

- Oh, Major Swinburne. - Yes.

My name is Steed. I'm one of your constituents.

- Delighted to meet you. - I thought we might

have a small chat. - I'm terribly sorry,

I have a committee meeting in a few minutes.

I shall be seeing constituents at three o'clock this afternoon.

Is it about the fat stock subsidies?

- It's about Michael Dyter. - Dyter?

I'm a very old friend of his. Making inquiries on behalf

of a relative about his death. Thought you might be able to help.

I should've thought your best course would be to go to the police.

They haven't been helpful.

I'm sure they know more about his death.

- But he was your private secretary. Up until three months ago, yes.

Then he resigned to fight this by-election.

So you would know something about the political motives.

You're surely not suggesting that this was a political assassination?

That doesn't happen in this country.

All the same, someone did shoot him.

I understand it was an overexcited heckler

who fired up a sporting gun by accident.

The police haven't found him yet. I've read the official report, too.

I'm afraid that's the one we all have to accept

for the time being. Now, if you'll excuse me, Mr Steed.

Oh, Major, this political scandal that Dyter was certain to expose,

do you think that could have anything to do with his death?

I'm afraid I can hardly discuss that with a stranger.

But you are my MP, Major, so democratically speaking,

I'm entitled to your political opinion.

I'll give you that with pleasure.

In my opinion, this so-called scandal

was a lot of electioneering eyewash.

- A campaign gimmick to win votes. - Exactly.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm sorry I can't be more helpful.

Perhaps we can have a longer talk some other time.

I'll keep you to that, Major. HE CHUCKLES

Oh, ladies, I'm extremely sorry. Sir Gerald doesn't seem

to be in the House. - Oh, how annoying.

How kind of you to ask. - Not at all.

Follow the Major, please.

Of course, Mr Steed. Come along, dear.

HE CHUCKLES

Not bad. Not bad.

That studio certainly takes a good photo,

I'll say that for 'em, even if they do overcharge a bit.

Publicity pays dividends, Arthur.

Yes. Yes. That's what they keep on telling me,

although I worked my way up from the factory floor without it.

Well, things have changed. Politicians have to create an image,

and these days, that's a professional job.

Well, since you're paid by results, I can't argue with you.

Anyway, that's not what I'm here to discuss.

Now, what have you got to tell me about this Dyter business?

Well, that, er, rather depends on how much you know already.

Well, let's take it that I know nothing, eh?

Except that certain ministers are going white at the gills,

every time the subject is mentioned. - Perhaps they're afraid

our friend, the excitable heckler, might have a go

at one of them next time. - No. It's far bigger than that

and you know it. Oh, no.

No, they wouldn't clamp down with a nationwide blackout security

just because some maniac runs loose with a shotgun.

PHONE RINGS Oh, excuse me, will you?

Yes, Angela? Oh, ask him to come in, will you?

Oh, I didn't know we were going to have company.

Ah! Do come in, Major.

I need hardly introduce you

to the Right Honourable, Arthur Dove.

- Hardly. - Now, what is this, St John,

some sort of a joke, or something?

Swinburne and I can see each other any day of the week.

Yes, but on the other side of the House.

Yes. And that's where he belongs.

Swinburne and I've got nothing in common, and never will have.

You make a great song and dance about national security

from your side of the House, Dove. Am I to take it

this is just for your personal, political advantage?

- You know very well it isn't. - Then that at least

is something we have in common.

Now don't tell me you're standing out

against the party whips on this issue.

I've done it before. ARTHUR SCOFFS

You want to know why Dyter was murdered?

- You listen to me... - Gentlemen, please.

I brought you both together

because I know that each of you, in your own way,

places security of country above everything else.

I'm merely providing the opportunity for you

to discuss the matter on, er, neutral ground.

I'd like to make it clear from my part,

that anything said here must be treated

in the strictest confidence. - Yes.

Of course. I've already taken that for granted.

Well, gentlemen, shall we begin?

This must be the shortest political career on record.

Michael Dyter held his seat for exactly one and a half seconds.

Still no trace of the gentleman with the shotgun?

No. Hey, what do you think of this campaign material?

- Well, it was obviously effective. - In getting him in,

or getting him shot? - Both.

I ran into a friend of mine in Fleet Street this morning.

Dyter was paying a publicity consultant

to handle him, a gentleman called Mark St John.

St John specialises in promoting politicians.

- Who, besides Dyter? - Well, he'd hardly issue a list,

but I did get the names of some of his commercial clients.

A couple of international trade fairs,

foreign governments, Slim-O-Rama...

Slim-O-Rama Keep Fit School. Have you heard of that?

Yes, it's keep-fit-cum-ski school in Victoria.

Personally, I'm surprised a man like St John bothers with it.

How'd you like to take a few skiing lessons?

Now, I might give you

a little holiday in Saint Moritz this winter.

Come to think of it, it could be quite a place to be,

if someone starts fooling about with that warhead.

What warhead?

A five-megaton nuclear warhead that's been lost.

What do you mean, "lost"?

Well, it was travelling by road a week ago

to an RAF station in East Anglia, and at half past two in the morning,

it ran into heavy fog, and an armed ambush.

And when the fog had lifted, the truck in which it was travelling

was found ten miles away, all on its own.

But, how could anyone carry away a thing that big?

Oh, I don't know. A sort of mini-bomb, I suppose.

Anyway, it was a brilliant piece of work.

Well, there you are. - Thanks.

So that was Dyter's security scandal.

Yes, somebody wanted him out of the way,

so now, there's a spare seat going in the area,

80,000 voters disenfranchised. - It hardly seems

the most important thing at the moment.

Oh, it is the point. Because, when they run the by-election again,

they're gonna have a lot of trouble finding candidates

in what's laughably known as a hot seat.

HE EXHALES LOUDLY

What would you say to standing for Parliament?

- No. - Oh, I don't know.

You'd be very good. I'd vote for you.

You'd pull out before polling day, of course.

Ah! Lovely!

Well, look, I'll pay your deposits. I'll even kiss a few babies for you.

Hey, wait. Whoops! Oh, come, Mrs Gale.

ARTHUR: This is sheer incompetence. Typical! Absolutely typical

of the way you lot have been running this country.

Arthur, I think we did agree to try, and steer clear of party politics.

All right. But why all the secrecy?

Why wasn't Parliament told about this?

With half a dozen lobby correspondents

sitting in the press gallery?

Even with the security hold in the British press

the foreign papers would have headlined it.

But this warhead, it's capable of wiping out a couple of cities.

Parliament and the public are entitled to know of the danger.

Personally, I agree with you. That's why I thought

the matter was so grave

we might forget our political allegiances.

However, if you find yourself incapable of doing that...

No, no. Wait a minute, Swinburne. You're right. I'll say this for you.

I don't like your politics, as you well know,

but I do admire a man who's got the guts

to put his country before his party. - I think we're all agreed

that this is the essential thing. - Yes.

The point is, though, what are we going to do about it?

Are we gonna force a debate?

The leaders of all three parties met last night,

and decided there should be no debate.

Well, I might have guessed that.

Obviously, if this business is to be exposed,

it will have to be raised under the privilege of Parliament

by an individual member who knows the facts.

Very well. I'll place a question on the order paper

first thing tomorrow morning.

Now wait, do you think that's wise?

If you raise it, the government are bound to deny it outright.

It'll be regarded as an Opposition slander.

But if one of their own back-benchers raises it,

yes, that will really put the cat amongst the pigeons.

That's what I thought.

I would, of course, expect total support

from your side of the House.

In the event of a debate and a division,

I think I can muster enough support among my own colleagues.

To bring down the government?

Is that what's in your mind, Swinburne?

I think we're both agreed.

Well, if that's all, gentlemen. No, don't you bother to see me out.

Well, I've met some fly ones in my time,

but that one takes the biscuit.

You better take the tape, Arthur. I'll, er, put it on the bill.

We really like to regard this place as a winter sports centre, Mrs Gale.

But apart from ski instruction, which is the basis of the centre,

we also run keep-fit classes, and the swimming school.

Although, of course, at this time of year,

most of our clients come for short course in dry skiing.

Is it only for women?

Oh, no. This is our ladies' morning.

No. The gentlemen come in the afternoons,

and mixed classes in the evenings.

Max, could you spare a minute? Max is my chief instructor.

Max, this is Mrs Gale,

who is going to join us for a few weeks.

- Delighted to meet you, Mrs Gale. - How do you do?

Max will be taking you for more advanced instruction.

- I look forward to that. - Now, Mrs Gale, I assume

you would prefer to start

with the beginners' class? - Yes, I think so.

Fine. Now, Mrs Dove here is doing exercises

to strengthen the leg and stomach muscles.

Mrs Gale, Mrs Arthur Dove. - CATHERINE: Hello.

Pleased to meet you. You'll excuse me not stopping, won't you?

WOMAN SCREAMS Would you excuse me one moment?

SHE CHUCKLES They're very good here, you know.

They look after you. - Well, that's comforting.

Especially Max. He used to be

a champion, you know? - Really?

Ah, you'll like him.

Here, Max, when can I get off this flaming bike?

Just a few more minutes, Mrs Dove.

We must strengthen those little muscles, you know.

Naughty monkey.

Mrs Gale, perhaps you'd like to try this training machine.

- Yes, fine. - Sit down there.

Take these. - Thank you.

Ah, thank you. I know how it works. - Good for you.

- Weren't you in Chamonix last year? - No.

Oh, I thought I saw you there.

Arthur and I had three weeks there during the recess.

Are you in politics? - Why do you ask that?

Oh, they mostly are here, you know. That woman over there,

she's Brigadier Gatling's wife.

- Ministry of Defence? - That's right.

You must have some interesting discussions.

Oh, it's mostly House of Commons gossip, you know?

I don't take much interest myself,

but Arthur likes me going on these winter sports larks.

You know, you have to keep up with the social thing.

All right, Mrs Dove. That will do for now.

SHE GRUNTS Thank goodness for that.

I should give it a rest now, love. You don't want

to strain yourself too much on the first day.

It'll get me in tune for canvassing.

- Canvassing? - Yes. I'm fighting a by-election.

By-election?

But there's no by-election coming up, except...

You're not standing for South East Anglia, are you?

CATHERINE: That's right.

Your husband went up to South East Anglia, didn't he?

During Dyter's campaign?

MRS DOVE: He's been up there a couple of times, yes,

though not backing Dyter, of course. - No, no. Of course not.

No. Dyter got in, much good it did him,

on the farmers' vote. - Yes, I know.

Well, Mrs Dove, if you'd like to go, and take your rest.

With pleasure.

Cheerio. - Bye.

Mrs Gale, I've just been checking through our class list.

I was wondering if we could arrange a little extra instruction for you.

Yes, if you think I need it.

I'm sure you'll soon feel the benefit.

How would tonight suit you?

Yes.

Ah, Major Swinburne.

Remember me, Steed? Friend of Michael Dyter's?

Yes, of course.

You'd said we might have a longer chat sometime.

I thought if the House wasn't sitting

for a couple of hours, it might as well be now, eh?

This terrace is reserved for members, you know?

Members and their friends. I said that I was a friend of yours,

and they let me in. Very decent of them.

Don't know about you, I find it a bit chilly.

Just a minute, Gavin. I don't think I've had the pleasure.

- Er, Mr Steed, Mark St John. - How do you do?

You, er, knew Michael Dyter then, Mr Steed?

- We served together during the war. - Oh, he'd have been

about, er, 15 at the time, wouldn't he?

He was a boy bugler.

Even then he was trying to inveigle me into politics.

Now, as honour to his death, I've decided to follow his advice.

Oh, really? In what capacity?

Oh, not very grand, election agent.

Election agent? For which division?

Well, there's only one going, you know, at the moment.

If you mean in Anglia, the writ hasn't been issued yet.

I believe in starting early. Oh, there you are, Mrs Gale.

WHISPERS: Friendly orbits, my dear. NORMAL VOICE: Come on, now.

Meet Major Swinburne, Mr Mark St John.

- How do you do? - How do you do?

This is our prospective candidate,

I hope one of your future colleagues.

I hope so too, Mrs Gale, but I expect you know

that traditionally the seat has been won

by a farmers' candidate. - Until Dyter came along.

And do you intend to fight the same campaign?

Exactly the same, except that I shan't wait until I'm elected,

to make my expose.

I shall do it from the moment I start campaigning.

That's my candidate.

Well, gentlemen, we won't keep you. I'm sure you're very busy.

- Well... - Now, wait a moment.

Mrs Gale? - Yes, Major?

I'd like to think you were bluffing.

But you can't be sure.

We can't very well discuss it here. Could I meet you both this evening?

But won't you be in the House this evening, Major?

I see by the order paper,

you have a private member's question to put.

I'd like to speak to you before I put the question.

Mrs Gale has an appointment this evening,

at the Slim-O-Rama Keep Fit School. - Well, I know where it is.

Could I meet you there? - I shall be there.

Good. At half past seven.

I think we've caught a little fish.

I hope things are not getting out of hand, Swinburne.

Is there any reason why they should be?

Oh, I thought you looked a bit worried, that's all.

Well, I'm sure Gavin has everything under control.

I hope you're right.

Because if you don't break this Dyter scandal, I will.

I can handle it.

You got here early then.

Not quite early enough.

And so, ladies and gentlemen,

as your independent candidate in this by-election...

Boo!

- Don't you like it? - I was just heckling.

- What did you say? - I was just heckling.

Right. I'll give you another one.

Good people... Good people, that's good.

Some of you are aware

that this campaign is being fought at a vital moment...

In the history of our nation.

We must stand firm, put our shoulders to the wheel.

Look, I'm trying to help you now. It starts in a week, your campaign.

- Couldn't I write my own cliches? - I've got some very powerful stuff

just further on here. - That truck would have had time

to get 40 or 50 miles, wouldn't it, before the fog lifted?

I see my rhetoric is wasted on you.

I'm still trying to work out where you could hide

a five-megaton warhead.

Almost anywhere, preferably a built-up area.

Well, the biggest built-up area within a 50-mile radius

of where that truck was ambushed, is London.

Yeah, I suppose that would be about the biggest.

And if they had time to get it to London,

they might also have had time to get it out of the country.

No. I doubt it. There was a late-October fog that day.

All air traffic and shipping were being stopped.

When the fog lifted, everything was being searched.

Even more to the point. Why would anyone steal a warhead?

I mean, what do you do with a thing like that

when you've got it? - You could let it off.

- Do they have a priming mechanism? - No.

But anyone who's smart enough to pinch a warhead,

a priming mechanism is no bother at all.

How much would a w-weapon like that be worth?

Well, it depends who wants it.

I can think of at least half a dozen non-nuclear countries

who would give a couple of millions to get some in their armoury.

Yes, I suppose you could name your own price.

Worth murdering a brand-new MP for. Now...

Well, I'm in no danger of the being the next,

judging by the speeches you're writing for me.

- You're not satisfied. - No.

Sure! All right. I'll get you an expert, Mr Mark St John.

Nothing but the best for you, eh? - Fine.

He did it pretty well for Dyter, didn't he, eh?

HE CHUCKLES

Publicity agents don't start work till about ten,

I like to be there in good time.

Thank you very much.

CATHERINE LAUGHING

Oh, Angela, get me, erm, Hensell at the Board of Trade, will you?

What appointments do I have this morning?

Mr Steed?

Yes, erm, ask him to come in, will you?

Good morning.

Well, what can I do for you, Mr Steed?

Oh!

I need your professional advice. - Oh, in what capacity?

You ran Michael Dyter's campaign. I understand you did

a brilliant job of it. I'd like to do

the same thing for Mrs... Mrs Gale.

I'm afraid that might not be quite so easy.

Why not? We're running the same campaign, you know.

Should be a piece of cake.

Not quite the same campaign, Mr Steed.

You remember Dyter won his seat by threatening

to expose the government after he was elected?

- Uh-huh. - Now, from what you've told me,

you plan to do it as soon as your client is nominated.

That, er, could get us both into rather serious trouble.

- Official Secrets Act? - To name but one of the problems.

And that's why we need you, St John.

Your reputation in Fleet Street, you know just how far to go,

without going over the edge, eh? HE CHUCKLES

I'm sorry, Mr Steed. I think you should try someone else.

PHONE RINGING

Yes? Well, keep trying, will you?

I can you offer a fee in the range of a 1,000 quid.

Reasonable, Mr Steed,

but I shouldn't like to lose another client,

before he's had a chance to pay the bill.

JOHN LAUGHING

1,500 in advance, the remainder when she's elected.

Precisely what would you expect me to do for that fee?

Publicity, public relations, and market research.

- Market research? - Yes. Find out anything you know

and all you can find out on the missing warhead.

Oh! Oh! Don't say, "What missing warhead?"

Where do you get your information, Steed?

Well, the same places as yourself, I think.

- Why should I do this? - Well, if you don't,

I shall have to assume that you're earning

more out of this affair, than the fee

that I'm prepared to offer you. - Which is?

10,000 quid, in cash.

- All right. - Good.

I'll see it's sent to you later in the day.

HE BLOWS When can we expect results, eh?

Well, perhaps your client

might have to come, and see me tomorrow evening.

Er, I, er, I can't promise to get you the information you want,

you must understand that. I merely arrange

for people to get together under the right circumstances.

The rest is up to Mrs Gale.

She has my fullest confidence.

That was a beautiful dinner, Mrs Gale.

Help yourself to the brandy,

it's over there. - Thank you.

Ah! I see you've got my book.

The Great Hunger Marches. - Hmm.

You haven't read it though, I'll bet.

You put it here for my benefit, did you?

As a matter of fact, I've read it twice.

I particularly like the chapter on the Ronda.

Yes. I wrote that from experience, bitter experience.

Yes, it sounded like it.

I'll never forget those hunger marches,

as long as I live. In those days, when you fought a by-election,

you fought it on plain, straightforward issues.

A man voted according to how much he had in his belly.

Don't you think the Anglia election is a straightforward issue?

Oh, nothing is straightforward these days.

Not even on something as simple as the defence of this country.

Now, when I get up on my hind legs in the House,

and talk about defence... - Which you do quite frequently.

Well, I'm considered something of an expert, you know.

Anyway, when I talk about defence,

I'm thinking of the Tommy out there in the trenches,

and the poor little working-class homes

that were destroyed during the war.

To some of them, of course, it's just a political game.

You're talking of Major Swinburne, are you? The late Major?

I don't like walking over corpses, Mrs Gale,

but, er, when he disobeyed the party whips

and, er, decided to break this Dyter scandal in the House,

he wasn't doing it under patriotism, you know?

Oh, no, no, no. No. He's got his eye on Downing Street.

I don't understand. The government had to resign.

Well, you see, he thought he'd be the one

to lead his party in the next election.

The only one with the guts to put his country first.

You show me a rebel, and you show me a budding careerist

Well, to get back to my campaign, Mr Dove.

- Yes, well, now, how is it going? - I'm going to need an ally,

an experienced political ally who knows something

of what's going on behind the scenes.

Well, we do have a candidate of our own, you know,

standing in East Anglia. - Yes, but not on this issue.

No, no. And in any case, he's an idiot.

Personally speaking, I'd... I'd rather back you.

- Good. In that case, what I... - Now, look.

Why don't we leave me to talk over the tactics

with your election agent, eh?

Seems a shame to waste the evening talking politics.

What would you like to discuss?

Well, you've met my old woman, what do you think?

I got on very well with her.

Yes, yes. I-I didn't mean to suggest anything else.

No, no. She's a fine woman, is Ellen.

Stuck by me through thick and thin. - Yes. I'm sure of that.

Yes. If only she didn't bore me to ruddy tears.

I'm sorry to sound a bit hard about this,

but I'm telling you just the plain facts, you see?

Oh, Ellen knows that I've got an eye for the girls.

She's not that much of a fool.

Anyway, she's got her own amusement.

SHE CHATTERS INDISTINCTLY

MRS DOVE SHRIEKS

Fiona.

I want to talk to you. - I'm busy.

This isn't something I could discuss on the telephone.

Is Mrs Gale here? - She's in the changing room. Why?

I want you to find out exactly what she's up to.

- What do you think she's up to? - I don't know.

To begin with, I thought she was trying

to ride her way into Parliament

on the strength of this warhead scandal.

- What's made you change your mind? - Her agent, Steed, came to me,

and offered £10,000 to handle her campaign.

Well, there's plenty of rich men playing politics.

No, I think he's more interested in the missing warhead

than in getting Mrs Gale into Parliament.

I also think he's been searching my office.

It's about time you learned

to look after your end of things, isn't it, darling?

While your friends just stay hidden?

What's happened to that cool, bland exterior of yours?

Listen, Fiona, one way or another,

I'm going to make a lot of money out of this business.

And when it's all over, I shall have to retire gracefully

to some sun-drenched island. - Hmm. Sounds nice.

Yes, it could be, with the right company.

SHE CHUCKLES SOFTLY No, thanks.

Now, what do you want me to do about Mrs Gale?

Find out just how much she knows, but be careful.

I want information, not trouble.

We'll just have to see how it goes, darling.

- Good morning. - Good morning. Having a good time?

Oh, yes. We're being shown over the House today.

Sir Gerald arranged it.

Sir Gerald? That's very kind of him. Why don't you enjoy yourselves?

Thank you. HE CHUCKLES

TOWER BELL CHIMES Sorry if I've kept you waiting.

I was held up in committee. - That's all right, Mr Dove.

Trying to persuade your party to force a security debate?

HE CHUCKLES I wouldn't waste my time.

I imagine the party, and the government

have an understanding over national security.

Yes, that's it. We're supposed to keep

our ruddy mouths shut. JOHN CHUCKLES

Why don't you put a private question, like Swinburne?

It's a complicated political position.

And that's a classic politician's remark.

HE CHUCKLES SOFTLY All right, Steed.

I think you've got some information I need,

and, er, if you give it to me, I'm prepared to help Mrs Gale.

I heard you had a chat.

HE CHUCKLES Yes. She's quite a girl, isn't she?

Well that's what comes from taking skiing lessons, you know?

Yes. Well, anyway, we decided to leave the tactics

for you and me to discuss.

Well, let's hear your proposal first.

Well, I'm prepared to see that Mrs Gale gets a clear field

in the Anglia division,

by having our candidate pull out. - That's very generous of you,

but, er, are you sure it can be done?

Well, it can't, er, national standards,

but I have good friends in the constituency party.

Oh. And in return?

I want you to put your cards on the table, Steed.

What exactly do you want to know?

Where is that warhead? Is it still in the country?

- I'm sure it is. - What makes you so certain?

Late last night the government had a blackmail note.

They were told if they paid out half a million pounds,

they'd be told where to find the warhead.

Are they gonna pay it?

Well, I have no idea. I'm not the government.

No. But you... you do seem to have

some pretty good sources of information.

Well, I keep my ear to the ground, you know.

They'll pay, of course.

- You think so? - Hmm?

Yes. Yes, it's in their interest to do so.

If they can get that warhead back fast

without anyone knowing, they'll remain in power.

If not, they're out.

Well, if you're to get them out, you got to move fast

Yes. Yes, but in politics

you've sometimes got to box a bit clever.

You're the expert.

Yes, and you're not doing so badly yourself for a beginner.

Hello again.

Ah, there you are. Did you have a good time?

Yes. Isn't it wonderful to think

that in this fine old gothic building,

all the decisions that affect our lives are taken?

- Comforting, isn't it? - Oh, it is.

Well, I expect you'd like us to be trotting.

If you trip over a missing warhead, let me know, will you?

Oh, we shall.

Yes. I shall never forget those days, Mrs Gale.

We tramped our feet off, day after day,

and Arthur was marvellous.

He used to hold those crowds spellbound.

Oh, he was a great orator in those days.

Isn't he now?

Well, he doesn't practice it now, you know?

It's all committee work.

All he can talk about when he comes home now,

is this bloke or that bloke who's after his position.

Oh, I know I shouldn't say this, Mrs Gale,

but it just bores me to tears.

- I'm sorry. - Well, that's the way it is.

I suppose I shouldn't complain. - Still, he is regarded

as a very important figure, isn't he?

Oh, yes. He's favoured for a minister

if we get in the next election. They think a lot of him.

He could become Prime Minister.

Oh, you'll likely think I'm daft, Mrs Gale,

but I hope he never does.

Don't you see yourself at Number 10?

I don't even like the bunch he mixes with, as it is.

Well, most of them. They're all smiles to your face,

but I know what they say as soon as your back is turned.

"She's from the back streets." Well, I'm proud of it,

and so was Arthur at one time, until he started talking politics.

All right, ladies. That will do for today.

A bit sharp on the clock, aren't you?

Now, Mrs Dove, Max will give you an extra ten minutes

on your own tomorrow. - I'll bet he will.

Well, let's go get changed then. Perhaps you'd like

to come have dinner with me. - Yes, I'd love to.

Oh, Mrs Gale, I wonder if I might speak to you for a few minutes?

- Oh, I'll catch you up. - OK.

Mrs Gale, I don't think we've apologised

for not attending to your instruction the other night.

Oh, that's all right. I got your message.

But from our information, you don't seem to have acted on it.

If Swinburne's murder was supposed to warn me off

standing for election, I'm afraid you're wasting your time.

What are you and Steed

trying to get out of this, Mrs Gale? - A political career, perhaps.

How did Steed find out about that blackmail note?

- If I knew I wouldn't tell you. - We want an answer, Mrs Gale.

I forgot my handbag.

Oh, er, over here, Mrs Dove.

- Well, have you finished then? - Unless there were

any other questions you wanted to ask me.

- No, not in the meantime. - Good. Thank you.

Let's go and have that dinner then.

Right.

Dyter?

LOUDLY: Dyter!

I was expecting to be received by Mark St John.

I'm afraid that pleasure has been denied you. He's dead.

- When did this happen? - A few minutes ago.

When I arrived he was being carted away

in an ambulance. - Do you know how he died?

Yeah. He'd been shot.

The curious thing is that the police haven't arrived.

One wonders who called the ambulance.

Isn't there anyone else in the building?

No. Whole place deserted.

He could hardly have had the chance to call it himself,

so it looks like whoever killed him.

Our friend with a shotgun.

Cupboard's bare, see?

Did you make this mess?

No. It was like this when I arrived. I've been trying to piece together

these files on St John's clients. I think that's what

our little friend there was interested in.

- Is Dyter's file there? - No, and neither is Dove's.

HE MUMBLES

Steed, when an emergency call is made for an ambulance,

the message is automatically relayed to the police, isn't it?

Yes.

Did you find any press cuttings

on the South East Anglia by-election?

Yes. There's some there.

Hey, these election photographs, have you got any more of them?

Aha! Yeah, here they are.

- Any negatives here? - Bundles of them.

# Now is the time

# Now is the time... #

For all good men,

To come to the aid of their party.

If I can get some prints made of some of these,

it might solve one, at least, of our problems.

Blunt 'F', squint 'I', H above the line.

What's that?

Very good description of my Auntie Queenie.

You know, I've solved another small problem.

The blackmail note sent to the government

was typed on this machine.

St John.

LOUDLY: Max!

HE GRUNTS

FIONA: Hold it, Max, it's Dyter! DYTER LAUGHING

You'll get yourself killed one of these days.

What are you doing here?

Well, we have to make, er, final arrangements.

Not here, you could have been followed.

Dead men cast no shadows.

HE CHUCKLES Is St John coming?

No. We don't, er, we don't need him for phase two of the operation.

But the government were ready to pay the ransom.

I'm not interested in their half a million pounds.

I never have been.

Blackmail might be as far

as St John's imagination would stretch,

but I'm playing for bigger stakes.

What?

I've been approached by another party.

They want the warhead, but we don't have to move it.

- They're going to explode it? - Yes.

- When? - In 24 hours' time.

I've timed the operation for Tuesday, November the 5th.

Rather appropriate, don't you think? In the meantime,

there are one or two things to be tidied up.

Er, Max?

- Yes? - Max, I have a job for you.

DOOR INTERCOM BUZZES

Yes?

- JOHN: 'Penny for the guy, Miss?' - Come in.

DOOR WHIRRING OPEN Oh!

Where are you, miss? HE SPEAKS INDISTINCTLY

- I'm in the dark room. - Oh.

# Please do remember The 5th of November

# With gunpowder, Treason, And plot. #

I haven't any change.

For a prospective candidate, you're extremely stingy.

Remind me not to vote for you. Ah, what are you doing there?

I think I've got this ambulance business sorted out.

These four pictures were taken by St John's photographer,

when Dyter was killed. - Mm-hm.

Now, Number one, Dyter shot.

- I don't see a thing. - Coming up.

Ah.

That was the photograph that went on the front page

of the national press, remember? - I remember, yeah.

Number two.

Someone quickly covers Dyter's head, and shoulders with a coat.

Now, if you look closely, you can see who's doing that.

Yeah, it's St John.

Number three.

Two ambulance men shifting Dyter.

Now, look at the time on the town hall clock in that one.

It's only a minute later.

They must have been standing by. - Mm.

Number four.

The ambulance disappearing down the street.

Now, I've had that detail blown up,

so you can just read the number plate.

The ambulance was stolen some weeks before.

They'd have to get hold of a body for the local coroner.

That's comparatively easy.

Look at number one again,

and the print from the original negative.

No blood stains on this one, and blood stains on that.

The blood stains have been touched in afterward.

That was the photograph St John Publicity Services

syndicated to the national press.

The one with the bloodstains.

Now, this explains the shotgun in the office,

it was brand-new, neither barrel had been fired.

Blanks. HE CHUCKLES

He went to an awful lot of trouble.

Yes. That's what I don't understand.

Why this elaborate fake?

It certainly explains the blackmail angle.

I tell you, now, Dyter and St John get together.

They steal a warhead, then they put pressure on the government

threatening them with scandal and exposure, if they don't pay up,

and the government doesn't play ball.

So they arrange a fake killing. Dyter, at the by-election,

where they can be sure of maximum publicity.

Yeah. But then the government don't play ball again,

and St John gets hold of Swinburne and Dove, to step up the pressure.

Exposure in the House.

But Swinburne's death was certainly no fake,

neither was St John's.

That suggests then, that the thieves have fallen out.

That puts Dyter on top.

I don't think blackmail was his intention,

otherwise, he would have got the money first,

and bumped his pals off afterwards. PHONE RINGS

HE BLOWS RASPBERRIES

Hello? Yes, it is.

Oh, yes, Mrs Dove.

I see. All right. Look, you stay where you are.

I'll come right over.

Arthur Dove's disappeared. - Not a stolen ambulance, though?

I hope not. I'm just going to find out.

And another thing, in the blackmail note

that St John sent to the government.

He said there was a detonating primer

to go with the warhead.

No-one is inclined to disbelieve him.

Warheads work on a timing mechanism, don't they?

That's right.

And tonight is Guy Fawkes Night.

Tonight could be the biggest bumper Guy Fawkes Night of all time.

All right. Hold on a moment. Max is still on his tail.

All right, give it to me.

Hello, Max?

Which way is he heading?

Yes, I thought so.

All right, Max. You can leave the rest to me.

How much does Arthur Dove know about that warhead?

- Well, I won't take any chances. - You'll get rid of him?

I might use him as live bait first. It's Steed or Mrs Gale

I'm more concerned with at the moment.

- What time was he due here? - Two hours ago.

Oh, it's quite possible he's just been delayed.

It might be nothing serious. - Oh, no.

He'd have been here all right. He has his name down

for a private question on the order paper.

He wasn't there to put it.

Do you know what this question was?

Well, they never told me, but I can guess.

You see, Mrs Gale, ever since Swinburne died,

Arthur's been blaming himself.

He knew he ought to expose this business, it's just that,

well, I suppose he didn't have the courage, that was all.

There could be other reasons.

After all, he was pretty closely tied up with St John.

Oh, no. No.

As far as Arthur was concerned,

it was just a question of playing politics.

When he found out this bomb had been stolen,

he realised he had this chance in a lifetime

to attack the government,

and St John was supposed to be helping him.

Oh, but this isn't helping us to find him, is it?

It might be.

Oh, I really shouldn't have rung you up.

It was just on the outside chance you might have known where he is.

Mrs Dove, will you be all right if I leave you here?

Well, of course, love.

This place is like a second home to me.

Good. I will contact you as soon as we know anything.

Thank you, love. You don't know how grateful I am.

Dyter! You! I thought you were dead.

A gross exaggeration on the part of my publicity agent.

What do you want?

- You. - Now... Now, listen, Dyter, listen.

Don't know what your game is,

but all I want to do is get out of this business.

- With your career intact. - Please.

You came here to destroy evidence that might've connected

you with the late Mr St John. - Listen, Dyter. Please listen.

I really didn't know what he was up to.

- What do you know? - Enough to realise

that I should never have allowed myself to get involved.

Look, Dyter, please.

Politics is my business, not crime. - Yes.

I started out with St John to embarrass the government,

but I'm not a traitor. I didn't agree to blackmail.

It's too late now.

Look, if necessary, I... I'll go to the police.

I'll... I'll resign the House.

- For Queen and country? - Yes.

Yes, but that's something you wouldn't understand.

I wouldn't even like to try.

Now, pick up that phone and call your wife.

Tell her to meet you in one hour's time

at the Slim-O-Rama club, with Steed and Mrs Gale.

Now.

Arthur?

LOUDLY: Arthur! - Good evening, Mrs Dove.

Oh, Fiona.

Did Steed and Mrs Gale come with you?

Mrs Gale was still at the House.

She should be here soon.

Yes. I heard you'd had a long chat with her.

What were you talking about, Mrs Dove?

Well, we were trying to work out

where Arthur could be. - Is that all?

What do you mean?

You've become very friendly with Mrs Gale.

What's that to you?

Now look, I came here to meet my husband,

not to answer your questions. Where is Arthur?

- There. - Ah! Oh, Arthur.

What have you done to him? - He'll be all right, Mrs Dove,

providing you tell us what we want to know.

You say you were asking Mrs Gale to look for your husband.

- I just told you that. - Did you also learn

that she was looking for the warhead?

Why should I talk about that to her?

- Did you talk about Steed? - I know nothing about him.

If you're not prepared to help us, Mr Dove...

We can't help you. We don't know anything.

For the last time, Mrs Dove, where is Steed?

He's been delayed.

SHE GRUNTS

FIREWORKS CRACKLING

You're late with that detonator.

All right. I know, but I'm here now.

All right. Set the fuse for midnight.

Midnight? That's cutting it a bit fine, isn't it?

The ambulance is standing by. We shall be well clear

of the blast area by that time. Now come on. Let's get on with it.

FIREWORKS BURSTING

GUN FIRES

TOWER BELLS CHIMING

OBJECT CLATTERS

GUN FIRES HE GRUNTS

Don't you know it's an offence to fire those things off,

within 50 yards of the street.

Thank goodness.

He's alive, praise be, and that's what really matters.

Yes, of course.

You know, I don't think it'd have done him any harm.

Ah, there you are.

Well, I suppose you won't be standing

for South East Anglia now, Mrs Gale?

- No, I'm afraid not. - I'm very sorry to hear it.

I always thought you stood a good chance.

Thank you.

I expect I'll be seeing you both at the sports centre.

I understand it's under new management.

Yes. Yes, I suppose it would be. Pity about young Max.

Be seeing you. HE CHUCKLES

I wonder who will stand for South East Anglia by-election.

You, if the letter I sent them offering your resignation

doesn't arrive by nine o'clock this morning.

Er, Steed, I think you missed a point there.

Eh?

Dyter's still legally their representative

until his trial opens. - Oh, pity.

I can just see you holding that farmers seat.

Just exactly what did he have against this place?

Nothing personal, it just happened to be

a suitable detonating point. A stone's throw from here

right in the middle, the War Office,

Ministry of Defence, the Admiralty.

Yes. Whoever was paying him

would certainly have got their money's worth.

Guy Fawkes himself couldn't have wished for more.

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