All language subtitles for The Avengers S03E06 1080p WEB DL H264 BTN_track3_[eng]

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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