Original subtitles

I don't believe in war.

I don't believe it solves anything.

War is evil.

It's irrational. If history has taught us anything,

it's that war only leads to more war.

More killing. Bigger armies.

And you want me to join up?

What you're asking me to do is take a lesson in murder!

That's really all it is.

And I stand here today because that is a lesson that I refuse to take.

Thank you very much, Mr Beale.

Very eloquently put.

I understand you have quite a reputation as a writer.

Yes. Unfortunately,

it is not your literary abilities that we are here to examine.

If you came upon a child injured in an air raid, what would you do?

Sorry... A fairly simple question.

You come upon a young girl, injured in an air raid. Would you help her?

Yes. Of course.

Even though it could be construed as helping the war effort?

No. That's not the same thing.

Do you obey blackout regulations?

Yes. You have no moral objections?

No. Why should I? You claim to object to the war.

Although it would now seem that you object to only some aspects of it.

That's not true.

One moment, Mr Beale.

WHISPERS

We are not satisfied that there is a conscientious objection

within the meaning of the Act. Wait a minute.

Your application is therefore refused.

You haven't listened to a word. Mr Beale...

You made up your mind before I even arrived here!

Will you be quiet? No!

I WANT to be heard! That is enough!

I do not recognise the authority of this tribunal.

Restrain him. This is what I'm trying to say...

Even if the country's at war, an individual has a right to choose!

Officers, please arrest this man.

I have a right to be heard! David!

Conscientious objector Beale,

arrested for breach of the peace

and causing an affray.

A conshie, eh? We have a special welcome for people like you.

I had a brother wounded at Dunkirk!

A lot of his mates didn't make it.

Of course, if they was all like you, Hitler would already be here.

I would like to see my husband.

I'm sorry, Mrs... Beale, sir.

You have him in your cells. Yes, but there are visiting hours.

I'm on my way home or I'd take you down to see him myself.

He'll be all right. Why don't you come back in the morning?

Bloody hell.

Sergeant Ferris!

This may take a while, Sam.

Wait for me back at the station. Right, sir.

Lawrence, I've got an exercise planned for the defence volunteers.

We'll be doing it out here. Keep it short.

Wait for me here.

Afternoon, Foyle. Afternoon.

No, Mr Foyle. I'm sorry but I don't agree.

As I see it, Hastings has been designated a nodal point, class A.

That means that we're expected to hold out for a full seven days

in the event of a German invasion. Yes, that's right.

I have 200 men under my command in the local defence volunteers.

I shouldn't let them know what's expected of them?

Mr Brooks, I'm saying we needn't be specific

about what may or may not happen.

Prepare for the worst

without painting a vivid picture. I disagree.

Preventing panic is a large part of our job.

Railway stations, tank traps, road signs coming down.

People are aware something is happening...

But we don't have to lay it on the line. I agree.

It's getting late. I think we've covered everything

exhaustively. Whatever you say.

Lie down!

All right. Let's see what you've got.

Raymond Brooks is a good man but he feels left out

this time round. He was in France last time.

Won the DSO at Ypres.

That's the trouble with these war heroes.

They want to win this war too.

Excellent work! Well done.

Um...

I think you'd better move.

ENGINE STARTS

What's going on here?

That's Brooks for you.

Gas attack rehearsal.

Well, I dare say I'll see you in court. Good day.

I say, Milner, how much longer do you think he's going to be?

I don't know, but I'm going home.

It's only an invasion committee. What have they got to talk about?

The invasion.

I wish the Germans would invade. I'd get some tea.

Good evening, sir. I was going home. Fine. Good night. You still here?

You asked me to wait for you, sir. Did I?

I need something out of the office.

Christopher, still on for tomorrow? Yes. 11:30.

Good! Another committee?

Golf.

Oh.

Am I driving you home? No.

I can't bear the thought of cooking.

I'll go to Carlo's, just round the corner from me.

I've driven past there a couple of times.

I've often thought I might give it a try.

Ah.

Where I'm staying, the landlady doesn't allow cooking after six.

Oh, doesn't she? What is the time, sir?

It's half-past, Sam. Is it really, sir?

Here we are.

Come on.

Thank you very much, sir. That's very kind of you.

Carlo. Mr Foyle.

Christopher! How are you?

I'm fine, thank you. It's good to see you.

And you. Thank you.

You're not eating alone tonight? Apparently not.

This is my driver, Sam Stewart.

Hello. Hello! So they finally got you one.

You look after him. He works too hard.

What do you want to eat? The lasagne.

Not the lasagne. No?

Meat supplies aren't so good and I know what went into it.

I have some very nice pork with herbs and vegetables.

Fine. I'll have the same.

Good choice. I'll get Tony to bring some Chianti.

Excuse me.

Follow me.

Please...

sit down.

Thank you.

I haven't seen Andrew for quite a while.

What have you done with him?

I haven't done anything. He's with the RAF.

A pilot? Training.

Did he tell you? No, not until after he'd joined.

These young people! What they're doing. They never tell you anything.

You must be very proud of him. Of Andrew? Yes.

Everyone must do their bit. Yes, I agree.

Where is he based? Scotland.

Oh, poor him.

I went to Edinburgh. Nearly died of cold!

My father took me on an ecumenical tour.

All I remember is drunken old men drinking whisky

and arguing about the Book of Revelations.

Buona sera, Senor Foyle. Buona sera, Tony.

Che bella signora.

Che labbrette sei belle, quali dolci candide e odorose.

I'm sorry? Tony,

what the hell do you think you're doing? Ignore him.

It's the only Italian he speaks.

And he uses it on all the girls. Dad!

This is Sam Stewart, my driver.

I haven't seen you here. I haven't been here.

I'm Antonio. Everyone calls me Tony.

You haven't ordered the lasagne?

No.

Good.

He was born in Bermondsey,

and he's never been out of the country.

Here's health.

DOOR CLOSES

What are you doing? You know you're not allowed in here.

Now look what you've done!

Wretched boy!

Steady!

Don't run!

That child is quite ungovernable.

What is it this time?

He was in your study.

Going through your desk. Was he pilfering?

Daddy! He's always poking and prying.

It was a foolish idea, having him here.

Of course it was a foolish idea. It was my idea.

I know you acted for the best.

But you have to agree, Joe's been a disaster from the start.

No, I don't agree. Table manners out of the zoo!

You'll be glad to hear that he's going. His parents want him back.

It's not as if there's been any bombs in London.

You didn't tell me the parents

had been in touch. They telephoned this morning.

Good news.

It's the only thing this family's done to help the war effort,

taking in an 11-year-old child, and you can't wait to see him gone.

Your father has done a great deal to help the war effort.

Well done, Daddy.

I'm going to find Joe.

Pleasure to meet you.

You too, sir. Thank you.

See you soon, Christopher. I hope so.

Ciao. Bye.

Thank you, sir.

It's a pleasure. Shall I run you home?

Miss Stewart.

These are for you.

Thank you.

I was wondering, this Friday... What?

Would you like to come to the Palais? I've got no one to go with.

I'd love to.

I love dancing. Would you?

Yes.

That's great.

Great.

I'm going to walk home.

Joe?

(What are you doing? Why aren't you in bed?)

Go away.

Joe, your father's coming for you.

He's going to be here soon.

He just thought you'd be safer here, that's all.

Come on, Joe. Get into bed.

No. Not until you've gone.

All right. I'm going now.

Sorry, Joe. I only wanted to help.

Tony! Jack?

What are you doing here? I haven't done a bunk.

They let us all out. Every one with three months or less to serve.

Seems they need the borstal for all those fifth columnists.

They're filling it with Jerries and Jews!

Can I stay here? Um...

I'll have to ask Dad. Tony...

I'm sure it will be OK.

You're a real mate. You know that?

So what are you going to do?

I might pay a visit to that judge.

First offence! Birched and thrown into that hell-hole!

I've been thinking about him a lot. What will you do?

I'll think of something. Can I have a drink?

Yeah, of course, yeah.

And something to eat. I'm starved.

The more I play this game, the worse I seem to get.

Yes, it's probably your age.

Thank you.

Downhill putts.

Go on forever.

At least I managed to thrash Andrew the last time I played him.

Better.

How is he?

Well...

I haven't heard from him so he obviously doesn't need any money.

Actually, Christopher, there was an ulterior motive...

inviting you out here.

Well, there always is, Hugh.

I wanted to talk to you about that man who died in custody.

I realise this probably isn't the place,

but I thought it better to do it outside the station.

It was suicide, wasn't it?

Yes.

Well, at least everything points to that.

He hanged himself.

Name of Beale.

David Beale.

Conscientious objector.

He'd just had his application turned down,

so I suppose that could have been the reason.

Anyway, I've spoken to all the officers on duty that night,

and they're all very unforthcoming.

They're backing one another up to the hilt.

Probably means they're lying.

Shot.

Yes, well, that's what I'm afraid of.

But I don't want to push too hard, whereas...

..well, if you come in from the outside...

I'll see what I can do.

Hm.

Sorry. Bad time to bring it up.

Hm.

I came as soon as I heard.

There's nothing you could have done, Theo.

There's nothing any of us could do.

I'm sorry. I should have been here.

You know what David was like.

How's the book going? Who was the head of the tribunal?

Lawrence Gascoigne.

Why do you want to know? I'd like to meet him.

Why? It wouldn't do any good. He kills David and we do nothing?

Because we're pacifists. That's what we do.

There's nothing we can do. I wonder.

David Beale. Taken into custody a week ago.

Yes, I heard. He died in his cell.

Duty officer was Ferris, with at least three other men on that night.

A few discreet enquiries. Keep it informal. Sir.

And more about Beale himself. His wife, background.

Righto. Good. Thank you.

There's somebody downstairs.

What time is it?

Quarter past one.

It's probably Joe again.

Wait here.

SMASHING GLASS

Lawrence?

Lawrence!

Daddy, what is it?

Daddy, what's going on?

There was someone outside.

He threw something through the window.

A note.

'You too will receive justice.'

Lawrence?

It's nonsense, but Emily insisted.

Anything like this before?

Every judge gets threatened from time to time.

Normally it's just an outburst in the dock.

This is quite different. It's odd in that

it's certainly a very considered threat.

But why are they telling you about it?

Quite. A brick through a window.

Cut-out letters. Really rather crude.

Neither of you heard anything? I was asleep.

I suddenly woke up. I was shivering.

It was terribly cold. I don't know why.

Could this be related to your work, do you think?

No. Lately, I've been dealing with civil matters.

Requisitions, conscientious objectors.

Usual county court work. David Beale

was one of yours. Beale?

Ah, yes. Of course, I can't comment on past cases.

No, of course not. Right.

Beautiful house, Mrs Gascoigne.

Thank you. I was born here.

It's been in my family for generations.

It's a rambling place.

In fact, we only use half of it.

Sometimes we talk about moving somewhere a bit more manageable.

Of course I would never do that.

This is my home.

This is where I belong.

Who are you?

I'm Sam.

That's a man's name. It's short for Samantha.

Who are you? And what are you doing?

Taking your number plate.

I'd watch out, if I were you.

There's a policeman standing behind you.

Who was that?

I don't know. But he's got our number.

Poison-pen letter?

It wasn't written. The words were cut out of newspapers.

Perhaps you could trace them. See which papers they came from.

It might tell you something about the person who sent them.

That had occurred to me, you know. Sorry.

There were four officers on duty the night Beale died.

I talked to them all informally. They could all be involved,

but I think William Ferris is the one you should see.

The men are a bit in awe of him. And he has a brother wounded at Dunkirk.

It might be relevant, Beale being a conscientious objector.

Good point. One other thing, sir.

I spoke to the medical officer who examined Beale.

His hair was wet and his clothes were damp,

as if he'd showered and dressed in a hurry.

His buttons were done up the wrong way.

Get on to this, would you? Delivered by brick through the window

of Judge Lawrence Gascoigne last night.

He was on Beale's tribunal.

And if you don't know what to do with it,

ask Sam.

Permission to smoke, sir? Go ahead.

You know why you're here? If it's about what happened,

I had nothing to do with that. Got into a funk and hanged himself.

Why did he do that, do you think? Maybe he was scared of the dark.

I can't put that in the report, and that's what this is about.

A man dies in custody. We have to investigate. Even a man like Beale.

It's a waste of my time, but... You don't like conshies?

I've got a lad in the RAF. My sergeant lost a leg at Trondheim.

My brother was wounded at Dunkirk. There you are.

Is he all right? Can't wait to get back out.

Look, you want to know what happened? Off the record.

Off the record I probably know. I want to fill in the blanks.

Was it you who dressed him again after he was found?

Yeah, it was me.

How did you know? It's difficult dressing a dead man.

The buttons were done up wrong and his hair was wet.

Was that because you sprayed him... It was a joke.

Yeah, but your idea, though? Yeah.

I didn't know he would top himself.

Not that it's any great loss. I'm with you on that, sir.

One dead conshie. Who cares?

Yep.

What are you going to put in your report?

Well, I thought I'd start with your arrest for aggravated assault

which resulted in this man's suicide.

What? And finish off

with your dismissal from the police force.

(SIGHS)

You got my note. You shouldn't be here.

I should have used the tradesmen's entrance.

I told you what would happen if my father found you here again,

and he did! Now he's forbidden me to see you.

He found me because I can't bear not being with you.

Now we can't see each other. Why do you listen to him?

Your father's a bloody snob.

Everything's changing! I know.

You said you loved me. I do.

But if he found you here, there's no telling what he would do.

What have you got to lose?

You don't need a house that's too big for you,

a life that belongs to last century.

You're not happy here. Please, Peter.

I don't understand you.

I would give everything, everything, just to be with you.

Why can't you feel the same way?

I'm looking for Mrs Beale.

You finish that and fold it over.

Mrs Beale? Yes.

My name's Foyle. I'm a police officer.

I wondered if I might have a word.

Go on. I don't think the children will mind and Mr Juzko

doesn't speak any English. It's about your husband.

Mr Juzko.

(SPEAKS POLISH)

You have quite a community here.

We've become quite a centre.

Full of refugees of one sort or another.

Friends come with their children.

Pacifists.

Mr Juzko is Polish.

You wanted to talk to me about my husband.

Yes. I want you to know that I'm very sorry about what happened.

It was wrong. The people involved will be punished.

And if it's any consolation,

nothing like this will happen again. Theo!

This is Mr Foyle.

He's a policeman.

Theo was at Cambridge with David.

And he was our best man.

What is it this time? Mr Foyle has come to apologise.

To assuage his guilt. I'm not here out of guilt.

I feel it's the right thing to do.

David was a writer, you know. A promising one.

He was published in Horizon. Eliot read his work, and praised it.

But then I don't suppose you know much about poetry.

I've read Ash Wednesday, The Hollow Men.

David thought the world of him. Why not investigate Gascoigne?

Why would I do that?

I've been looking at his record.

He's presided over five tribunals this month.

He dismissed four appeals, including David.

But there was one, just one hearing, where he turned

a strangely sympathetic ear.

Stephen Brooks. He's now an official conscientious objector.

A conshie. He's never been here.

None of us have ever met him.

None of us ever will, because he's working in Dorset

with the forestry commission. Out of harm's way.

And? His father is Raymond Brooks.

You know him. Rich, influential.

Gascoigne does. They club together.

Whatever it is you're trying to suggest,

you don't have any evidence. What do I need?

David said Gascoigne was corrupt. Now David's dead.

You're trying to keep a lid on things.

That's not fair! 'You too will receive justice.'

What does that mean? A note wrapped around a brick

that went through Gascoigne's window. Know anything about that?

No. But I tell you something, someone's got the right idea.

Morning, Florence.

You shouldn't have said that.

"Do not go into that dark place.

"Fear it.

"Fear the embrace that awaits you.

"For you must know it touches once and then will not let go."

David wrote that.

The war, all the hatred.

I thought I could escape it with you in this house.

You can.

We have to stand by what we believe.

The individual words aren't going to tell us a great deal.

I managed to identify a couple. The Illustrated, the Daily Express.

The work of someone not out of the top drawer.

Or maybe they want us to think that. What's this?

Machine oil. There are traces of it on some of the cuttings.

A bit clumsy. A brick through the window -

it's not particularly subtle.

Right. Leave this with me, and you get off home.

Thank you, sir.

Hello. I didn't hear you come in.

Not now, Paul.

I've got the oven on and the table to lay.

There's a beer in the cupboard. Thank you.

They finished taking down the signposts.

And the postman delivered a whole lot of leaflets this morning.

What do they say? Hide your food. Hide your maps.

Lock up your bicycles. Don't leave anything for the Germans.

Makes you nervous to go out.

Nothing is the same any more.

I saw your case in the hall. I'm going away for a while.

Oh? Kate's.

Wales? Ever since Owen was called up

she's finding it hard to cope.

It will do me good to get away for a while.

What about me? Plenty of food in the pantry.

I'll only be gone a couple of weeks.

You don't mind, do you?

I suppose not.

When are you leaving?

There's a train at 11.

This is very sudden.

Kate needs me. I don't want to hang around.

I'll miss you.

I'll write.

Sam?

Good evening, sir.

You're looking er...

You said you didn't need me. I changed in the lavatory.

I'm going to a dance.

Oh, yes. With... Tony.

He's not really my type.

But in the circumstances, I didn't want to let him down.

You won't do that.

Have a good time.

# SLOW DANCE

You look great. Out of uniform.

Thank you.

Have you been driving for him long, then? Mr Foyle.

Er...only a few months.

Do you know him well?

Not really. Dad made the cake for his wedding.

That's how they met. That's nice.

MUSIC ENDS

Do you want a drink? Yes. Thank you.

Dad came over about 20 years ago.

He used to run his own bakery.

Does he live over the restaurant?

Yeah. He gets up at five every morning to bake his own bread.

Sounds like his hours are even worse than mine.

Have you ever been to Italy? No.

Dad's from Naples, and one day I want to go.

Maybe on my honeymoon!

When I meet the right girl.

Are you going to get me a drink?

I'll be right back.

I was beginning to think you weren't coming.

I wasn't going to. I shouldn't really be here.

But... But what?

But I am.

So will you dance with me?

Excuse me. Do you mind if I have this dance?

Relax! I am.

No, you're not. You're scared.

You don't understand my father.

Sometimes I wish...

What?

Nothing.

There you go. Thank you.

Excuse me.

Hello, hello! What's going on here?

You didn't tell me that you were seeing a lady.

Hello, Jack. This is Jack Winters. He's a mate of mine.

You've been keeping secrets. And a very pretty one.

Do you mind if I join you?

As a matter of fact, I do.

But thank you for asking. It's like that then, is it?

Come on, Jack.

We're meeting later, remember?

(All right.)

I'm sorry about that. Are you working tonight?

No, no. It's just Jack. Forget it.

All right.

HINGES SQUEAK

TELEPHONE RINGS

SLURPING

There's no need to make that noise.

Joe!

Who was it on the telephone? He didn't say.

What did he want?

He told me to go to the summerhouse.

What?

Said he'd left something for me in the summerhouse.

And then he rang off.

Isn't that rather strange?

Of course it's strange.

Aren't you going to see what it is?

Not now, no. I'm having breakfast.

I'll go. No, you won't!

Thank you, Joe. Do as you're told.

You're not to go in there.

I'm sorry I'm late, sir. What happened?

I overslept. Good time?

Yes, I'm afraid I was out rather late last night. Won't happen again.

Cup of tea?

Joe!

Why don't you go back to the car.

This was tied to the door handle. A grenade.

Open the door and...

At least he wouldn't have felt anything.

There's some mercy in that, I suppose.

This was meant for Gascoigne.

Do all the family use the summerhouse?

No. I had it built as a retreat.

When I'm trying a difficult case, I go there to think.

I suppose that's why it was chosen.

Joe should never have come into this house.

That's true. I was against it from the start.

It's very commendable, taking in an evacuee, sir.

It was a good idea in principle.

But...

As it's turned out...

Oh, it's a horrible business. I feel responsible.

You mentioned that his father is coming today, sir.

Yes. His name is Pearson. Eric Pearson.

Foyle, could you meet him? I don't think I can face it.

Did Joe have his own room here?

Oh, yes.

Would you mind if I saw it?

Why? This has nothing to do with Joe.

It was Lawrence who was the target.

That's true, Mrs Gascoigne. But it was Joe who died.

I'll take you there myself.

Thank you.

This business of evacuees,

thousands of children needlessly sent all over the country -

it's been very badly handled.

Better than doing nothing at all.

Joe had never slept in a bed before he came here.

He thought sheets were for dead people.

Oh, God, I wish he'd never come!

Did he have any friends? No, not that I know of.

That's his exercise book. He carried it everywhere.

He was 11 but he had the level of a six-year-old.

I'd say that was you, wouldn't you?

Mind if I keep this? Of course. Whatever you want.

Would you make a list of trials and tribunals you've presided over?

Yes, of course.

Sir, is there anyone you can think of who might want to hurt you?

No. Well...

Yes?

I did recently have a set-to.

A man called Peter Buckingham.

He wouldn't try anything like this.

A set-to?

Well, it's a very personal matter.

A bomb in a summerhouse is a rather personal statement.

Yes. Quite.

Peter Buckingham was forcing his attentions on my daughter.

He's a machine operator at the factory.

Which factory? It's next to the house

on what used to be a farm.

It's a plant, making munitions.

Susan met this fellow in the village

and began this...

It was ridiculous. I had to step in. Did he threaten you?

Not specifically. Could he be the man on the phone?

I don't know. Right.

I'm going to put two or three men outside here, Mr Gascoigne.

Is that necessary? Well, they missed this time.

They may try again.

I hate these people in here.

We don't really have a choice.

In my father's day, they'd never be allowed in the house.

Oh, that's exactly the point. In your father's day,

they wouldn't have been allowed past the third footman.

It was a different age, Emily.

I wish you could see that.

Excuse me. Mr Pearson? Yes?

I wonder if I might have a word with you.

Who are you?

My name's Foyle. I'm a police officer.

What's the matter? Is there something wrong with Joe?

THUNDER RUMBLES

You know, I never wanted Joe to leave London.

I never wanted him to go.

But they said it would be better for him.

They said there would be air raids, and there weren't enough shelters.

Mr Foyle, even the missus said he'd be safer in the country.

All the boys and girls were going. She said he'd be safe.

And I took him to the station myself.

And you've never seen so many kids.

You could hardly see the platforms.

And luggage everywhere, mothers crying.

Little boys and girls, with those labels round their necks,

all being packed off.

But Joe...

Joe didn't want to go.

Joe held on to my leg.

And in the end, they took him away,

and they packed him off in a carriage with hundreds of them.

And walking home...

That was the strange thing, Mr Foyle.

The streets were empty.

Nobody laughing.

Nobody crying.

Nobody shouting. Nobody kicking a ball.

I've never heard anything like it in my life, Mr Foyle.

It was a city with no kids, but I didn't mind.

Because they said he'd be safe.

And that's all that mattered to me. He was safe.

And for months and months, I've been sitting there in London,

and not a single bomb has fallen!

And you're telling me now

that my son has been killed here!

With strangers!

Because he just got in the way!

Where's this Gascoigne?

I want to see him face to face. Where is he?

Mr Pearson, there is nothing you can do here. You should go back.

No, Mr Foyle. I'm staying. I'm not leaving without my boy.

Right. We'll find you a room. But there's no point

in confronting him with this.

I'm staying.

Theo!

Theo!

Where did you go last night? What?

You went out. Where were you? Why?

In the village, they're saying someone tried to kill Gascoigne.

What are you talking about?

Why are you asking me? You know why.

Do I? Florence, for God's sake!

We've marched together, been to meetings.

All my life I've been against killing.

Are you telling me... I don't know.

After what you said... And you weren't here last night.

You said tried to kill him. Did they succeed?

No. Shame.

Tony?

What are you doing here? I had to see you again.

Not here. I need to talk to you.

You'll get me shot.

It's just... I had such a great night last night.

You enjoyed it too? It was fun.

Will you come out again tonight? We can have a drink, maybe.

I really need to talk to you.

About your friend? No, it's nothing to do with that.

But it's important.

Please.

All right.

I finish at six.

So I'll meet you outside.

Six. Now, go. Go on!

We should put somebody inside Gascoigne's house.

Three men outside isn't enough. Who do you have in mind?

Having arrested four of our men,

we're a bit bloody short-staffed. I could do it, sir.

I didn't like to ask. What about your wife?

She's had to go to her sister's in Wales.

Right. Thank you. KNOCK AT DOOR

Sam, won't be a minute. Where have you put Pearson?

He's in the Crescent, sir. Good.

We must get round to these. Do you recognise any of those names?

No.

What are these? Gascoigne's recent cases.

Jack Winters. I met him at the dance last night.

Same man? Gascoigne sent him down for burglary and assault.

Birched and given six months. He didn't mention that.

He wouldn't. Get over there. I'll make sure he knows.

Sir. Sam.

He turned up at the dance.

I can't say I took a great shine to him.

I think Tony's a little in awe of him.

Did he say anything at all? No, sir.

Oh. Sorry.

Do you want me to ask Tony?

No, better not. Oh.

This is as far as we can go. Looks like it.

Ah, Sergeant!

Now, I can't pretend I'm entirely happy with this situation,

but I suppose needs must.

That's what Mr Foyle said, sir.

Are you armed? Yes.

Well, try to think of yourself as a house guest while you're here.

I don't know how long this will go on.

This is my daughter, Susan. Susan, this is Sergeant Milner.

Good day, miss. Good afternoon.

You could show him to his room. Yes, of course.

It's through here.

Can I help you? I hope so. Who are you?

I'm the foreman here. Hawkins.

I'm a police officer. May I speak to Peter Buckingham, who works here.

I'm afraid I can't allow you in. Why is that?

We work for the War Office. You'll have to talk to them.

What is it you do here?

Produce munitions. Right.

Is Peter Buckingham here?

You can talk to him, but not in the factory.

And he can't discuss his work.

Just wait here and I'll get him.

Right.

Seems you know everything. Not that it's any of your business.

I met Susan in the village.

I didn't know who she was then.

We began to see each other. Where did you see each other?

We went walking.

In the fields and woods and that.

But that wasn't enough for me.

So I started coming to the house.

There's this summerhouse.

Ah, you went there, did you? Lots of times,

till we went there once too often and her dad turned up.

He saw us together and... that was it.

You've been back to the summerhouse?

No.

No, er... I'm not seeing Susan any more.

Look,

I never threatened Gascoigne. He threatened me.

If he found me on his property again,

it'd be the police, prison, and God knows what.

Is that all? I've got to work. Yes. What is it you do?

I'm a machine operator. Right.

Thanks for your time. Very pleased to meet you.

Right.

It's a bit odd, isn't it?

What is, sir?

Metalworker, machine operator, with clean hands.

Maybe he washed them.

Maybe.

They're supposed to be making munitions here.

Yes? Would you transport explosives

along tracks like these? Look at them.

For metalworking, hardening steel, you'd need furnaces, wouldn't you?

I suppose so.

Well, there's no chimneys.

Hello, Sergeant Milner.

Miss Gascoigne. Please, you can call me Susan.

Daddy doesn't like me smoking in the house.

He doesn't like me smoking at all. You won't tell him?

No, of course not.

I can't stop thinking about poor Joe.

Were you close to him? I tried to be.

But he hated being here. You could see it in his eyes.

The Nazis were never the enemy as far as he was concerned. We were.

I'm sure that's not true. I can understand it.

After the East End, this place must seem like another planet.

It's a big house. We don't even use half of it.

We have servants' quarters but can hardly afford servants.

It was good of you, taking in an evacuee.

Just for once, I was determined to have my own way.

I went to the station and there were all these children lined up.

Hundreds of them. All labelled, with their suitcases.

The good-looking ones went first.

Then the strong ones, who might be able to help around the house.

Joe was one of the last.

I chose him because he reminded me of me.

Of you?

Left out.

I had all sorts of ideas.

Like he might be like the little brother that I never had.

But it didn't work out like that.

Susan!

Here. Quick.

There you are. We were just talking, Daddy.

I hope you don't mind my smoking, sir.

So long as you don't do it in the house.

Come inside, Susan.

Don't want you catching cold.

(MOUTHS)

How many years you been coming here now?

Too many.

I still remember the first day you came,

you and Mrs Foyle.

Well, we weren't actually married then.

And do you know...

that was the worst meal we ever had.

The chef was sick.

I'm surprised we ever came back.

The world's not the same any more.

Mussolini.

He and Hitler...

He's crazy enough to declare war. It could happen any day.

What then, eh? What happens to my family and me?

Italy might still stay neutral. I don't think so.

Everyone's afraid.

There's a restaurant called the Casa Alberta.

They're changing their name to Le Chateau D'Or.

Suddenly, it's French.

New name, new menu.

Same owner.

You might have to do the same. And then there's Tony.

He's a good boy. He works hard.

But his heart...

..it's not in the business.

I worry about him.

The name Jack Winters mean anything to you?

That's a friend of his. Jack Winters.

The two of them were at school together.

I don't like him. He smiles, he's very charming,

but he's no good. He was at borstal.

He's mixed up in something? Probably not.

You'd tell me if Tony was getting himself involved?

The only thing Tony's involved with at the moment, Carlo, is my driver.

Thanks for coming out again. It's a pleasure.

There's something I wanted to talk to you about.

Is it about Jack? No, no. He's all right, Jack.

I mean, I'm sorry about him turning up the other night. No...

I wanted to talk about you and me.

Oh. Really?

Look, Sam...

the thing is,

I've joined up.

Any day now, I'm going to be in uniform.

That's wonderful, Tony.

I'm not sure Dad's going to see it that way.

But I can't spend the war as a waiter in a little restaurant.

When are you going to tell him?

I don't know.

Soon.

But the thing is...

When I think about...

..fighting,

and shooting and all the rest of it,

I really get the heavies. I'm scared.

And the other thing is - I shouldn't be saying this -

I've never really had a girlfriend.

Not a real one. And I wish...

It would be easier

if there was someone I could write to.

Someone who could write to me.

You know?

I shouldn't ask. I hardly know you.

Of course I'll write to you, Tony.

I'll even send you cigarettes and socks, if you like.

You'll be my girl back home?

Keep the home fires burning.

Mr Foyle. How nice to see you.

Come in. Has somebody offered you a cup of tea?

Not for me, thank you.

That's all, Evelyn. Make sure we're not disturbed.

Please sit down.

You certainly have extensive business interests, Mr Brooks.

Well, I was lucky.

My father owned tin mines.

Now we make everything from tin cans to shell cases.

I think we'll be making more of those in the days to come.

In your factories in Southampton? Yes, that's right.

Are you investigating me? No, not at all.

This is something involving Lawrence Gascoigne.

You have a close association with him.

Yes. We work on the defence committee.

Beyond that. You have other connections.

What makes you say that?

We see each other socially. I've been to his house.

Just recently? Yes.

A confidential matter. To do with your son?

You have a son, Stephen, who's in Dorset. Is that right?

I prefer not to speak about Stephen.

We're not on speaking terms.

I'm not very proud of what I did, Mr Foyle.

But, yes, I did go and see Lawrence Gascoigne.

And I'm going to tell you why.

You may know that I fought in the war.

I came out of it unscathed.

And decorated. That too.

When this second war came,

I had every expectation that Stephen would do the same. But I was wrong.

He told me he had no intention of fighting.

He came out with some nonsense

about peace and civilised values.

As if he couldn't see that the Nazis

were going to burn and plunder their way across Europe,

if someone didn't stand in their way.

We had a bitter argument.

To be honest, we've hardly spoken since.

Anyway, the next thing I heard was that he was going before a tribunal

as a self-professed conscientious objector,

and by coincidence, the judge was going to be Lawrence Gascoigne.

So I decided to go and see him.

I wanted to tell him what I believed,

and what I believe to this day -

that Stephen was afraid to fight.

He was no more a conscientious objector than you or I.

You may say that what I did was wrong.

It was a matter of pride for me. What happened?

Gascoigne barely heard me out.

I'd hardly mentioned Stephen's name before our talk was over.

He was very angry that I'd gone there at all.

Were you surprised that his name was added to the register of objectors?

No, I wasn't surprised.

I suppose Gascoigne did what he had to do but...

I no longer have anything to do with Stephen.

As far as I'm concerned,

I no longer have a son.

Theo!

Theo?

What are you doing?

Where are you going?

I can't explain. There's something I have to do.

What?

Florence, forgive me. I'll be back soon.

It's just called the factory. I don't know any more,

but they claim to have a link with the War Office.

I...

Let me know. Thank you.

Anything? No. But I do know

this man Peter Buckingham is no metalworker.

He's a carpenter by trade.

This is a notebook kept by the boy that the Gascoignes took in,

the evacuee. Fancied himself as a bit of a policeman.

What do you make of it?

Fac Ray?

Could he have meant factory? The factory was next door.

It's shrouded in secrecy, the gates are bolted -

just the sort of thing he would be curious about.

What about these other words?

Pay Sooo? Don't know. Could be anything.

You think the boy was the real target?

I don't see how he could have been.

It was Gascoigne who got the phone call

that told him to go to the summerhouse.

Well, I suppose there's one way you'll find out.

If someone has another go.

Are you really going to stand here keeping watch?

That's what I'm here for.

Do you have a gun?

I feel like James Cagney with it shoved into my waistband.

BIRD CALLS

What is it?

There's someone down there. Wait here.

Quick! This way! Through the woods.

POLICE WHISTLE

Oh, it's you!

You shouldn't really be out here, Miss Gascoigne.

He could come back. Are you afraid I'll get shot?

Actually, you're breaking the blackout. Your cigarette.

(LAUGHS) I'll put it out.

Can I ask you something?

Are you married? Yes.

Are you very much in love?

Sorry. I shouldn't be asking these questions.

I've got nobody to turn to.

Miss Gascoigne... There's somebody I've met.

He's asked me to marry him.

And I want to.

I love him.

My father won't hear of it. He... I'm on duty here.

How much does the world have to change

before we can behave how we want to

and not how we're expected to? You shouldn't be talking to me.

You're the only person I've had to talk to.

It's all right.

Why can't I marry the man I love?

Why does my father have to stop me?

I'm sure he wants what's best for you.

What do you think you're doing?

Daddy, it's not what you think.

Take her to her room.

I beg your pardon? You heard! Take her upstairs!

He wasn't doing anything!

Sir... I want you out of my house!

Believe... I saw you.

She was upset. You will leave this instant!

No, sir. I'm here to protect you. Get out!

Are you going out?

We're finished here, aren't we? Where are you going?

Just out. Antonio, please, I worry about you.

Why? Jack Winters.

Dad, I'm not a little boy any more. I can look after myself.

The police know about him. He's trouble.

Dad, I need to talk to you about something. I've made a decision.

If it's to do with Jack Winters, I don't want to know!

I tell you what...it doesn't matter.

Don't wait up.

GUNSHOT

I'm sorry!

Hold it! Hold it!

I've got him. Come on!

That's it.

It looks as if he WAS the target, sir.

Yes, looks like it.

There's no sign of any weapon? No.

Were all the doors locked? Yes.

The windows were locked? Nothing's been tampered with.

Right.

I should have been here, sir. No, that's all right.

He completely misunderstood.

I wonder why, if he really thought his life was in danger,

why he should choose to lose his police bodyguard.

Mrs Gascoigne, what can you tell me about last night?

Your husband and Susan had an argument.

Yes, he was very angry.

He came downstairs. He wanted to be alone.

And then what?

Did you hear anything? I heard a shot.

Do you keep a gun in the house, Mrs Gascoigne?

My father kept a gun in the top drawer of his desk.

He was worried about the invasion.

The top right-hand drawer.

Top right-hand drawer.

It's not here.

KNOCK AT DOOR

Sir. Sam.

Is it true they've arrested Tony?

And Jack Winters. Yes.

I really don't think he had anything to do with Gascoigne's death.

Except that he was at the house.

He didn't want to be. He's responsible for his actions.

You should know he's just joined up. He didn't want anyone to know.

I just don't think he had it in him to hurt anyone, sir.

I don't know what to say. What the hell were you doing?

It was Jack's idea. He wanted to get his own back.

By shooting him? No! By breaking in, making a mess.

I tried to talk him out of it. You're joining up. Is that right?

Sam told you. Why haven't you told your dad?

I was going to, Mr Foyle. But after this...

They won't have me, I don't suppose.

They'll have you, Tony. You've not been arrested. Yet.

Tell your father.

DOOR SLAMS

You were caught in the grounds of Gascoigne's house.

I didn't go near it. I wasn't doing nothing wrong!

You were trespassing. Trespassing. Ooh!

You were going to break in. Says you.

We found a bag and a crowbar. Those were Tony's.

You still have two months of your sentence to serve, isn't that right?

We can arrange for you to go back. And what about Tony?

He gets off because your boss knows his dad?

Christopher. Carlo.

Please tell me it isn't true.

You told me Tony wasn't involved.

Now they tell me he's mixed up in a murder. Where is he?

He's downstairs. He's all right. Come in here.

You've spoken to him? Of course I've spoken to him.

He's not involved. You know that.

Carlo, for heaven's sake. How long have I known him? Really!

I'm going to tell you this, but he WILL tell you.

You ought to know that he's joined up.

He's done what?

He's not told you because you're angry.

This makes me proud, Christopher.

In Italy, in Germany, we have to fight fascism.

Will you tell him that?

He's free to go. Take him home.

Thank you, Christopher. It's a pleasure.

Sam.

Are we going back to Gascoigne's place?

No, we're not.

Right here.

To the factory? Yes.

Sorry, Mr Foyle. I've already told you.

Mr Hawkins, the War Office disavows any knowledge of this factory.

You're not working for them, and you're not producing munitions here.

A child has died, quite possibly as a result of what's going on here.

Now, you tell me what that is, or I arrest you for obstruction.

All right, Mr Foyle, but I'll be reporting back on this.

Open the gate.

Now maybe you'll understand why this place is off limits.

Those are my orders from the Ministry of Health.

But why? We're preparing.

They know what's coming.

The Luftwaffe.

The most powerful air force in the world.

There's been a few bombs down in the southeast,

but that was just a taster.

Soon they'll target London,

and there's going to be more bodies than you can imagine.

And they're going to need coffins.

Someone has to make 'em.

Nobody's meant to know.

They're worried about morale,

and with good reason.

Have you seen enough?

Yes, thank you.

Nice to see you again. What can I do for you?

I was wondering what access the defence volunteers have to weapons.

It's almost impossible. No rifles? No grenades?

Molotov cocktails is more the mark.

I have about one rifle for every 15 men in the unit. It's absurd.

We're doing valuable work, defending vital installations.

How we to do that without proper support is beyond me.

Did Lawrence Gascoigne ever visit the unit?

Yes. Once.

Gascoigne's dead. You were supposed to protect him.

Well, I couldn't protect him, Mr Brooks,

because he was lying to me in much the same way as you have been.

What are you saying?

I'm saying you haven't been telling me the truth

about your visit to Gascoigne or about your son.

I thought I had. So did I.

This, amongst other things,

is a record of comings and goings

and observations by the 11-year-old evacuee that the Gascoignes took in.

This, for example,

is a note

about my visit to the house.

And this is a note about my car registration number.

And this over here is a note about your visit to the house.

This word, fac ray, I thought it was a misspelling of the word factory.

There was a factory next door.

Isn't it? No.

It's your car registration number. FAC 345.

This is your name, and this here...

He got his S's

the wrong way round, and he got his 2's the wrong way round.

So his 2's look like S's. And this is, in fact,

the amount, £2,000, that you paid to Gascoigne

to make sure that your son wouldn't have to fight.

Which corresponds with the amount that was

withdrawn from your private account the day before you met.

When I was here, you said you weren't speaking to your son.

In fact you've phoned his Dorset number from this number

a dozen times since then.

£2,000, was it?

That's an awful lot of money.

I did bribe Gascoigne.

I wasn't the first.

Gascoigne lived way beyond his means,

and word got around that, from time to time,

he could be bought. I don't understand why.

You have no idea

what I saw in the war.

Passchendaele...

..was a stinking quagmire.

I saw men

step off the duckboards and drown in mud.

I saw men...

blown apart.

What did we achieve?

Here we are at war again. Same enemy.

We achieved nothing.

I wasn't going to let that happen to Stephen.

I love him too much.

Thank you, sir.

Thank you for coming with me.

I still can't believe you're joining up.

Can you forgive me? There's nothing to forgive.

David and I never tried to force what we thought on anyone.

I know that.

But I wish I understood.

DISTANT THUNDER

I loved David, you know.

He was so talented. He was...

funny.

He was kind.

He was my best friend.

And the fact is that Lawrence Gascoigne killed him.

I know he didn't tie the noose, but it came down to the same thing.

You went round to his house, didn't you?

And you had a gun.

It hadn't been used since the last war. I didn't know if it worked.

Did you find out?

No, of course not.

I didn't get anywhere near. There were police all over the place.

But it made me realise I wanted to kill him.

I really did.

Oh, I was in the grip of some sort of...

..some sort of madness.

Hatred. I've never felt anything like it.

It was totally overpowering.

David used to talk about the war as a lesson in murder.

He was right.

I still believe in pacifism, Florence. That hasn't changed.

But I'm as capable of killing as the next man.

So I might as well use that capability

and do my bit to save civilisation.

I can fight.

So I should.

I'm very pleased you decided to go back, Mr Pearson.

I don't want to be here.

I understand.

Thank you, Mr Foyle. I know you tried to do your best.

Well, I suppose this is goodbye.

Will you write to me?

Of course I'll write to you, Theo.

And I'll still be here

when you come back.

I'm sorry. Oh, don't.

Just look after yourself.

Joe used to send me picture postcards. I don't read too well.

I come down a couple of times.

I used to get a special rate on the railways.

I used to take him out for tea.

The Gascoignes didn't want me up at the house.

What is it they said?

It'd be far too hard for Joe.

Joe knew you were coming?

I telephoned him, yeah.

Did he say anything?

Well, he was pleased. Said he had a lot to tell me.

WHISTLE I bet he did.

Do you know who killed him, Mr Foyle?

Yes.

God rot whoever it is, eh? Mm.

I'm here to arrest you for the murder of your husband.

Yes... Yes, yes.

Have I time to pack a few things?

You just need your coat.

I understand.

Mr Milner, what's going on? I'm sorry, Miss Gascoigne.

Where are you taking my mother?

Miss Gascoigne, I'm afraid I've got some rather bad news for you.

Joe was about to return to his parents in London.

Joe, your father's coming for you.

The timing couldn't have been worse

as far as your father was concerned,

because only a while before,

he'd discovered that Joe had seen him or overheard him

accepting a £2,000 bribe from a businessman.

And Joe was going to tell? If he had,

your father would have lost everything.

A judge taking bribes on that sort of scale,

wouldn't just be end of his career. He'd certainly have gone to jail.

What about the death threats?

The death threats weren't real. Your father made them himself...

..to make it seem that he and not Joe was the intended victim.

The brick through the window?

He threw it himself. And the note...

'You too will receive justice.'

He prepared that himself. Lawrence?

And he even went as far as trying to settle another score

by implicating you.

I did recently have a set-to.

The only person he named was you.

Peter Buckingham was forcing his attentions on my daughter.

So, in the letter...

He used cuttings from the kind of paper he imagined you read.

And then he added a few smears of machine oil.

He'd bought the story that you were a machine operator in a factory

producing armaments, which wasn't the case.

And the oil was...

..a detail too many.

So I'm afraid it was your father

who took the grenade from the defence volunteers.

It was your father who set up the device in the summerhouse.

I can't believe this. And it was your father who,

the following morning, faked the telephone call.

He said he'd left something for me

in the summerhouse. I'll go!

A strange phone call... He rang off.

..the secret parcel,

and telling Joe not to go into the summerhouse

was the very best way of making sure he did exactly that.

Joe!

So it seemed as if Joe had been killed accidentally and your father

thought his secret was safe. I can't believe he did this!

It's a great deal for you to take in.

But my father was killed. Yes.

My mother. Yes.

How do you know? Well, because the house was locked.

He was killed with his own gun. And only he,

you, and your mother knew it was there.

And...it wasn't you.

Some family.

I knew that something was wrong.

That business with the brick through the window, for example.

And neither of you heard anything?

Well, I...I was asleep.

I suddenly woke up. I was shivering. It was terribly cold.

I don't know why.

Lawrence had opened the front door.

He let in the cold air.

That's what made me shiver. Do you see?

He had to go outside in order to throw the brick.

Did you know all along? No, I didn't know.

That's when I confronted him. That's when he told me.

All right! I killed him! Lawrence, no!

He was nothing. A guttersnipe, a little vermin.

Should never have come here in the first place!

Always snooping around. Poking and prying.

He threatened me, for heaven's sake! What? He was a child.

He was here when Brooks came. He heard it all.

You...

..killed a child.

We killed him, Emily! No!

Keeping up appearances. That's why I needed the money.

Ever since I married into your bloody family!

How dare you bring my family into this?

..moving into this bloody house. I've been scrimping and saving!

Did you think I'd let it all crumble because of an East End brat?

I won't be part of this. Well, you are!

You're the reason it happened! No!

What are you doing? You too will receive justice!

Give me that! Put it down!

At that moment, I think I hated him more than anyone.

More than I'd hated anyone ever before.

But I didn't kill him for that reason.

I killed him because it was the right thing to do.

Burning the midnight oil?

Case notes. What's the time?

After ten. I heard about Emily Gascoigne.

Nasty business.

Evil times. And getting worse.

You haven't heard the wireless? No.

Italy's declared war.

It was on the news.

So now we really are up against it.

There have been riots in London, apparently.

Fires in the East End.

Good night. Good night.

ANGRY SHOUTING

Where is he?

He's dead.

We were both asleep.

There was smoke

and flames.

The firemen got me out.

But Dad didn't make it.

I'm so sorry, Tony.

What sort of a world is this, Mr Foyle?

Tony!

I don't know what to say.

Neither do I.

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