All language subtitles for 00001

- (Man on radio) 'Dr Palmer?'
- Yes?

'It's happening again, sir.
Complete blackout of section three.'

It's on the blink again, sir.

Sound the alarm.

Emergency! Emergency!

'Emergency! Emergency!
Emergency! Emergency ...'

(Palmer) Well, you can see for yourself.

A complete blackout of this sector here.

- That's the only sector affected?
- Yes, thank goodness.

Well, a partial blackout is tolerable.

We're amply covered
by other early-warning stations.

But if the blackout area increased or,
worse still, embraced the whole screen ...

(Peel) We would be in trouble.

A missile attack could be
launched on this country

without any warning whatsoever
until it was too late.

Couldn't it be
a technical failure this end?

Oh, no, no. Absolutely not.
Our systems are in triplicate.

No, no. This must be some kind
of natural phenomenon.

Natural phenomenon?

I know Hargreaves
doesn't share my view.

He's got some fanciful idea
the interference is man-made.

- But surely-
- No, no. It's quite impossible.

Why, to black out a radar screen
in this manner? No.

Men have been trying for years to find
some means of doing it without success.

And someone couldn't have
succeeded by now?

No, no, no. I've been closer
to the problem than anyone.

- And it was Marlow's lifework.
- Marlow?

Yes, Dr Hubert Marlow.
He used to work here. Brilliant fellow.

Absolutely brilliant.
Helped to make radar what it is today.

And then devoted the rest of his life
to try combatting it.

- He actually worked here?
- Yes, until a few weeks ago.

I miss him a great deal.
Absolutely brilliant.

He was working on
some kind of radar-jamming device.

Yes, that was his ambition.
His grand illusion.

- Well, I'd like to meet this Dr Marlow.
- Meet him?

That's quite impossible.
Not with us any more.

- He must have a forwarding address.
- Well, hardly.

You see, Hubert Marlow
died four weeks ago.

- Is this his file?
- Yes.

- May I?
- Of course.

Well, this is just part of his file.

We keep very comprehensive records.

Would you mind if Mrs Peel spent
some time here and went through these?

- Not at all.
- Thank you.

Dr Palmer, if this interference
were man-made ...

- Not a chance.
- But if it were ...

Now surely the source of it
would be situated somewhere

within the sector that failed.

Presumably, but I can't believe
for one moment that it was.

- Would you mind?
- Of course not.

Well, we are here.

The sector that failed
covers ... this area.

Suppose this mythical device had
been placed somewhere near a town,

let's say within 20 miles ...

20 miles.

Now what sort of territory
would that cover?

Mostly open moorland.

- There is a small town here.
- Yes, yes. Pringby.

- Now that's a coincidence.
- Oh?

The church here in Pringby,

that's the place
poor old Marlow was buried.

Excuse me. I'm looking for the grave
of Dr Marlow, Dr Hubert Marlow.

- Oh, yes. Funny one.
- I beg your pardon?

Marlow. Funny.

- Odd.
- Oh.

Didn't come from here, see?

But he insisted on being buried here.

Me? I don't care where they bury me.

Marlow cared.

His relatives went
to a great deal of trouble.

Pringby churchyard he wanted,
Pringby he got.

Can you point out his grave to me?

Aye, that's it.

All that trouble,
then they changed their minds.

Wanted him moved.

You just missed Dr Marlow.

He was exhumed.

Taken away.

- Good morning, sir.
- Good morning.

- Can I help you?
- A friend of mine was a patient here.

- Oh.
- Hubert Marlow.

Marlow? No, I can't say ...

Dr Hubert Marlow.

Doctor? I'm afraid we only
accept railwaymen here, sir.

He was more on the executive side.

- You've never heard of him?
- No.

Maybe you'll remember his face.

No.

Well, I must be mistaken.

Thank you, anyway.

I'm sorry I can't be of more help.

Nurse Spray.

I've very sorry to have bothered you.

- Yes, Sister.
- Who was that man? What did he want?

Stay away from that door.
I told you to keep out of sight.

It's all very well for you, Johnson.

You haven't been buried away
for the last four weeks.

You knew what it would entail
and you agreed.

You agreed there'd be money.
I need money for my experiments.

The Ministry kept me short,
otherwise I wouldn't be doing this!

Scrimp and save and penny-pinch.

- You said it'd be different here.
- It will be.

- Why can't I have the money now?
- The timing's wrong, Marlow.

You can hardly plead your case
at this moment

when one of your units has almost
jeopardised the scheme.

But the insulation failed. I couldn't
possibly foresee a think like that.

You should foresee every possibility.
That's why you're here.

That triggered off
before we were ready.

Probably caused a blackout
somewhere.

You can bet your boots
there's an investigation already.

That's not good, Marlow.
That's not good at all.

- But don't you understand ...?
- Save the excuses.

You'll get your money,
all that we've promised,

but only when we're ready to move
when the job is done.

(Knock on door)

Dr Johnson.

There was a man here
a few moments ago.

He spoke to Nurse Spray.

He wants to know if we have a patient
here by the name of Marlow.

Alert Baron.
Tell him to keep his eyes open.

Right, Doctor. I'll attend to it.

Ah! And how are we today?
On the mend?

We'll soon have you out
and leaping about.

John Steed,
Foot Plateman's Friendly Association.

I've come to see that all is well
with the hospital.

On behalf of Foot Plateman's Friendly,
might I sign your plaster for you?

Comfortable? Good!

Charming. This'll hasten
on your convalescence quite a lot.

You have no idea how lucky
you chaps are to have a place like this.

Beautiful surroundings.

The tireless activity of the staff.

If there's anything you want,
grapes, oranges, magazines, flowers,

just get in touch with
the Foot Plateman's Friendly.

- Grapes.
- Eh?

- I'd like some grapes.
- Desperate for them, I'd say.

Remarkable recovery!

My health is excellent,
which is more than I can say for you.

Oh, I don't know. I'm fairly fit.

Hey, you!

(Yells)

Well, it's all good for trade.

- (Johnson) What happened?
- A man snooping. He got away.

- What did he look like?
- Tall fellow. Umbrella and bowler.

It's the same man.

Things are hotting up.

Get him out of here.
Clean this place up, cover all traces.

What's going on?

If he's found here ...

Phone Miller. Tell him to prepare
for business in Carling Street.

- Carling Street, Pringby.
- Hm?

- Are you still at it, Mrs Peel?
- Mm.

Marlow's file is, as you said,
very comprehensive.

I'm having to cross-check
every item.

Carling Street, did you say?
What about it?

It's an appointment in his private diary.
22, Carling Street, Pringby.

- Doesn't say who with or what for.
- Mm.

The appointment was
for Friday 13th, too.

It's supposed to be unlucky.

Yes, it was for Marlow.
That's the date he died.

I think number 22 deserves a visit.

Don't move! Got you in my sights!

(Chuckles)
Gun that shoots around corners.

- Second childhood?
- Nephew's birthday.

I have interesting news
about Marlow.

Don't tell me. I'm away ahead of you.
Saw him myself.

They had him carefully hidden away,
but now we know where he is,

we can get him, get him talking.

- Talking? When did you see Marlow?
- About 11:30.

- Alive?
- Of course alive. You don't think that ...

- You mean that you've seen ...
- Dead. 1:00 p.m.

An undertaker's
in Carling Street, Pringby.

The body was supposed
to be Hubert Smith.

Died of heart failure in a nursing home.

- For ailing railwaymen?
- Mm.

That's where you'll find your answer.

Yes, with your pleasing demeanour,

you'll get in there
quite easily as a nurse.

Have to pull a few strings, of course.
I'll get onto the Ministry right away.

Whilst you're waggling
your thermometer,

I'll tackle Sir Horace Winslip.

It's a charming place. You'll like it.

No music in your room,
no male visitors,

no nail varnish,
no elaborate hairdos,

regulation stockings
and in by ten o'clock every night.

I'm glad to have you with us, Mrs Peel.
I hope you'll be happy here.

Nurse Spray, this is Emma Peel
who will be joining us immediately.

Will you familiarise her with our routine?

- Yes, Sister.
- Sister.

Mrs Peel.

I hope the dragon didn't put you off.
It's fun working here.

Hardly anything to do.

Masses of time off,
especially when they're operating.

I'm sorry, Doctor.

- Dreamy, isn't he?
- He's certainly interesting.

Dr Johnson, chief surgeon
and chairman of the hospital.

Runs everything around here.

- Is that the new girl I passed just now?
- Mrs Peel.

- Allocated to us by the Ministry?
- Like Nurse Spray.

There's no way around it. They insist
we take a quota of trainee nurses.

Oh, don't worry. She won't be allowed
to see anything she shouldn't.

(Sighs)

(Blows whistle)

(Whistling)

- Oi! You got a ticket?
- No.

Can't get in without a ticket.

- Yes?
- I'd like a ticket, please.

Are you travelling far?

I don't think so.
I'd just like to have a look around.

Platform ticket over there.

All tickets, please.

- Platform number two, sir.
- Thank you.

(Phone rings)

- Hello, guv'nor. We got a customer now.
- Splendid, Frederick!

Ah!

Welcome to Winslip Junction, sir,

where all lines converge, eh,
and old friends meet.

- Winslip. Sir Horace Winslip.
- John Steed.

Nice to have you as a passenger,
Mr Steed.

Oh, goodness me. We are in luck!

Just in time
for the first sitting for lunch.

- You will stay for lunch?
- Thank you.

Ah, this way.

- Frederick?
- Sir.

- Ah, in here. In here.
- Ah, thank you.

(Blows whistle)

Do sit here. I like to sit
with my back to the engine.

- Er, the menu?
- Thank you.

(Clattering)

(Winslip chuckles)

(Train horn honks)

(Train chugs)

It should be a smooth trip.

(Clattering)

Ah, glad you dropped by, Mr Steed.

I hate eating alone.

It's jolly nice
to share a carriage with you.

Ooh, yes. We're keeping
extremely good time, too.

We're should be approaching
Hepplewait Tunnel any moment now.

(Train hoots)

- Bang on time!
- Remarkable!

(Turns off player)

(Coughs)

- Do you mind if I close the window?
- Not at all, dear chap.

Careful!

It's dangerous to lean out of the window
while the train is in motion.

- Quite true, Sir Horace.
- Good.

(Coughs)

(Puffs)

(Winslip chuckles)

Ah!

(Sighs) I wouldn't travel
any other way, would you?

Can't possibly enjoy a meal
any other way.

Brought up on trains, you know.

My father made
all his money out of trains.

And now if I attempt to eat a meal

without the gentle rocking
and the scenery flashing by,

I get the most dreadful indigestion.

- Oh, a brandy, dear chap.
- Thank you.

It is a privilege
to travel with you, Mr Steed.

- How did you come about it?
- The Foot Plateman's Friendly Society.

- Hm?
- The Foot Plateman's ...

How shall I put it?
I came aboard to tout a donation.

Foot Plateman, eh? Hm.

- Well ... 5,000 guineas all right?
- What?

Oh, well, make it 10,000, then.

You're prepared to donate
10,000 guineas?

Oh, yes, of course.
I'll give you a cheque later on.

Sir Horace, I know you have
a reputation for generosity,

but do you always part
with your money so easily?

Only for a worthy cause, my boy.

Railwaymen are the salt of the earth.

Railways made civilisation possible,
you know.

Opened up the Wild West.

All sorts of new territories.

And made me a rich man.

Ooh, we should be here
any moment now.

(Breaks squeak)

- A delightful journey, Frederick!
- It's a pleasure, Sir Horace.

(Exhales)

Well, ah, the Iron Horse,
magnificent creature,

and all being murdered
by the motorcar.

Line after line closing down.

The Downside Line, the Firthington,
the Pentwaithe, all gone.

I hang a wreath for each one, you see.

Well, somebody has to remember.

I thought I instructed you
to go to Ward C, Mrs Peel.

Yes, Sister, when the flowers arrived
I thought ...

You're not here to think,
but to obey.

They're waiting for you.

Yes, Sister.

Excellent. We'll operate tonight, then.

This is number 214 Gladstone.

She was averaging 60 mph in 1890.

They tore up the tracks
to make a road for motorcars.

You're lucky
if you can average 20 mph on it now.

Sir Horace, how much do you have
to do with the running of your hospital?

Now, look at this.
This is the Fair Maid of Perth.

A splendid beast.

Hm? Hospital?

Oh, no, I've got a first-rate chap looking
after things there for me. Dr Johnson.

- I just put up the money.
- Exactly. You put up the money.

But it could be misused
and you'd never know.

Now look here, dear chap.
We don't want any of that sort of talk.

Johnson and Miss Thirwell
are excellent people.

And they share my love of railways.

So long as you put up the money.

Nonsense!
They do agree with my views.

They're prepared
to do something about it.

In fact, they have a scheme that ...

No, don't touch that!

I'm terribly sorry.
Er, what kind of scheme?

Erm, it's all right, dear chap.
It's just that ...

That is one of the original signal levers
from Whittingham Junction.

- They're quite irreplaceable, you know.
- It looks very new to me.

Yes, well, erm ...
I've just had them renovated.

Yes, they did an excellent job, too.

- Now what were we talking about?
- The scheme at the hospital.

Oh, yes.
I've forgotten what that was now.

Tell you what, how would you like
a look round the grounds, eh?

I'll take you
to the main gate the long way.

- I feel like a chug round myself.
- Chug?

In "John Of Gaunt".
My own personal engine.

(Train hoots)

(Train whistles)

- Oh, sorry!
- Don't worry.

A dance is on in town tonight.
Coming?

- I'm on duty.
- You were.

I just got the whisper they're operating
tonight, so you won't be needed.

How about it?
I'll wait for you if you like. Hm?

- The dance.
- Oh, no. No, thank you. Next time.

- I've got other things to do.
- All right. If you change your mind ...

(Baron) Can I help you?

I was looking for the Matron.
These papers.

They'll have to wait till morning.
You can see the sign. Operating.

I see.

Good night, Mrs Peel.

- Ah, I was just looking for you.
- Thank you.

- They're operating tonight.
- Are they?

- Mm-hm. I tried to get in and Baron ...
- Shh.

(Door shuts)

- Who's the patient?
- I've no idea.

They don't hang about here, do they?

Right. Let's get started.

- No chance of getting past him.
- We could force our way in.

Too soon to expose our hand.
We just have to wait.

I wish I knew
what was going on in there.

Forceps.

(Heavy breathing)

Scalpel.

Blow torch.

(Shop bell pings)

Mechanised flowers.

Electronic cut-outs. Condensers.

And that, believe it or not,
is a selenium rectifier.

This a transformer, isn't it?

Mm.

Steed.

This is where I found Marlow.

Business seems to be dying off.

Well, they're expecting
someone along pretty shortly.

What do you think of this?

Oh, that's a hole to breathe through.

In a coffin?

Mrs Peel?

Have you ever heard of an undertaker
booking funerals in advance?

There's one six weeks from now
and another a month from now.

And both on a Thursday
and both out of this locality.

Got that diary,
the one with the map in it?

As a matter of fact, I have.

Here we are.

A funeral two weeks ago at Scarsby.

Scarsby.

Four weeks ago at Lennington.

Lennington.

Then Noley.

Noley.

Then another here at Pringby.

Pringby.

- And the ones in advance?
- One's at Summerbrig.

- Summerbrig.
- A charming little place.

The other at Wayscale.

Wayscale. Here.

Join them all up
and there you have slap in the centre ...

The radar station.

(Man) This way, please, gentlemen.

Gently.

Gently.

Now this one, gentlemen.

A straight swap.

It's alive.

Only to light. It's a solar cell
sensitive to light.

- Then what's it doing in a coffin?
- I wonder.

Uh-huh. I thought so. It's telescopic.

Long enough to reach the surface
once this coffin's buried.

Some device that derives its powers
from the rays of the sun.

This little device
reaches up and feeds it.

- And the device is in there.
- Mm-hm. Built up from parts like this.

Dr Marlow's know-how.

A range of jamming devices buried
around our early-warning stations.

To black out all warning
of enemy attack.

But we still have
to find the central control.

- They'll keep it well hidden, of course.
- Be difficult.

Control for a thing like this
would be pretty big.

There'd be buttons to push
and levers to pull.

"Assembly should be carried out
in a completely dust-free area."

An operating theatre.

I better follow that coffin.

Central control. Big.
Buttons to push. Levers to pull.

Levers to pull.

Well, the last one, Miller.

One more op and our task is complete.

It feels good, eh?
The end of the road in sight.

- Extremely good.
- Well, let's get it over and done with.

- Where's Thirwell?
- I'll take a look.

Hurry up. The doctor's waiting.

Let's get started.

(Grunts)

Forceps.

Micrometer.

Right, all yours.

(Banging)

Quite a successful operation I think.

Don't you, Miss Thirwell?

Mm.

Tonight we can celebrate.

This calls for champagne.

Home and dry.
The end of our worries.

Except for Mrs Peel!

(Groans)

What ... what are we going
to do with her?

Oh, no. No, I couldn't take another.
Not so soon after Marlow.

He's right. Another death
from this hospital would be too risky.

You've set us a problem, Mrs Peel.

(Train hoots)

An accident.

Everybody knows the old man's batty.

He's a positive danger
in that machine of his.

He's bound to hurt somebody someday.

(Train whistles)

I do so abhor violence, dear chap!

Is this the way to repay my hospitality?

- Are you all right, Frederick?
- Yes, Sir Horace.

Go and have a lie down
in the waiting room.

Sir Horace, you've been used.
Have you got an idea what this is for?

- Naturally.
- You have?

Mm, and what's more I entirely agree
with what we're about to do.

Sir Horace, I can't believe that
you would betray your own country.

You don't know
what you're talking about, dear boy!

Why, the Winslips
have served in five wars,

four kings and two queens,
faithfully and well.

Why, we were even about
to form a royal railway regiment.

Then what's happened
to your patriotism?

We appear to be talking
at cross purposes, dear boy.

This won't harm the country.
In fact, it'll be an enormous benefit.

Roads clear again.

Get from A to B in half the time.

- End of petrol fumes.
- Petrol fumes?

When this evil vehicle is banished
from the Queen's highway!

Sir Horace, you said
you knew what this was for.

Yes.
After all, I was in it from the beginning.

When Dr Johnson
first put the scheme to me, I said ...

- What scheme did he put to you?
- A jamming device, of course!

- For jamming what?
- The motorcar!

- Johnson said that's what this was for?
- Certainly.

Otherwise you suppose I'd have made
such considerable monies available?

It's a jamming device, all right.

But what it's intended to jam is the
entire defensive system of this country!

Goodness me!

(Train hoots)

That's "John Of Gaunt"!

Sir Horace!

It's essential we destroy this insulation.

What's going on? Somebody's playing
about with my own personal engine.

No one's got the right to operate that.

What is going on?

What is that woman doing
tied to the railway line?

- She'll break the engine.
- Let's have a look.

Er ...

What extraordinary people.

(Train whistles)

(Gunshots)

Always felt I was cut out
to be an engine driver.

I was on the point of taking it up
as a matter of fact.

- Family objected?
- Oh, no. They were all for it.

I came to my senses just in time.
There's no security. Always on the move.

Oh, I don't know. At least it would have
kept you to the straight and narrow.

(Train hoots)

(Steed chuckles)

(Train hoots)