Original subtitles

I'd like to look around, if I may.

Little red spots mean so.

If I might have a word with Mr. Bernardi. Oh, I'm afraid Signor Bernardi

fully involved right now.

Would you tell him it's Mr. Angel?

Alan Angel. He does know me.

Got an angel for you as in paradise.

Got it, Angel?

Mr. Benati says that you can go down.

Why, Mr. Angel, what pure pleasure, sir.

It has been far too long.

Come in, please.

After you, Signor Benati, I insist.

So, how's trade, Toby?

We've been lucky, George.

We've had a fantastic summer.

Autumn, George.

Autumn, I would say, was on the slow side.

One must live off one's hump, actually.

Some coffee, George?

No, thank you.

Vladimir's dead.

Shot dead on Hampstead Heath.

Too bad.

That old man, huh?

Too bad.

Oliver Lakens asked me to sweep up the bits.

As you used to be the group's postman, I thought I'd have a word with you.

Sure.

You knew then about his death?

Read it in the papers.

Any theories about who did it?

At his age, George.

After a lifetime of disappointments, you might say.

No family, no prospects, the group all washed up.

I assumed he had done it himself.

Naturally. Naturally.

Anyway, you didn't do it, which is nice.

George,

you're crazy.

Shouldn't this be numbered, Toby, if it's a Degas?

Degas.

It's a very grey area, George.

I've got to know exactly what you're dealing with.

But this one is genuine?

Totally.

Would you sell it me?

What's that?

Just out of academic interest.

Is it for sale? If I offer to buy it, would I be out of court?

Don't be ridiculous. We're talking thousands. Know what I mean?

Like a year's pension or something.

George, listen.

At a certain age, a man's got to be what he deserves.

I spent 15 years at the circus trying to be an English gentleman.

You know what I am now?

A cheap Austro -Hungarian in expensive clothes.

I've come home.

When was the last time you had anything to do with Vladi's network, Toby?

George, George, the name is Benati, okay?

I'm not called Hector.

Definitely not Toby Estes.

I have an alibi for every day of the year, hiding from my bank manager. You

think I want trouble around my neck?

Emigres, police even.

This is an interrogation, George.

You know me, Toby.

Sure, I know you, George.

You want matches so you can burn my feet?

It wasn't suicide.

It definitely wasn't suicide.

I saw the body, believe me.

That's the worry, you see.

Cause and effect.

Toby quarrels with Vladimir one day, Vladimir gets shot with a Russian gun

next. In police terms, that's what they call an embarrassing chain of events. In

our terms, too, actually.

Judge, what the hell is quarrel? I never quarreled with the old man in my life.

Mikhail says you did.

You go talking to Mikhail?

You've got some pretty lousy friends, haven't you?

I'm embarrassed.

According to Mikhail, the old man was very bitter about you. Hector is no

What happened to make Vladimir so passionate about you? I'd like to keep

from the police, if I can, you see.

And Saul Enderby, if I can.

George, kindly answer me something.

Who is speaking here?

Is it George Smiley? Is it Oliver Lacon?

Who is speaking, please? You met Vladimir.

What happened?

You tell me that, and I'll tell you who's speaking.

Vladimir put up a distress rocket.

Not through the circus, surely.

Through friends of mine.

When? Two weeks ago.

He has to see me immediately, like he's stolen the Kremlin codes.

A crash meeting.

Where? In the Science Museum, top floor.

All those aeroplanes.

A lot of kiddies eating crisps. And he put a proposition?

He wanted me to play courier for him.

Carry what?

He was not precise.

It was documentary.

It was small.

No concealment needed.

And where did Vladimir tell you that to?

Germany. Which one?

Ours. North of it.

Hamburg.

It was a private arrangement.

No circus involvement till we done the job.

And the compensation for your labours?

First, we take the document to Max.

That's you, George.

Max would know its meaning.

Max would reward us.

Gifts, promotion, medals.

Maybe we get lunch with the Queen.

Only problem was, Vladimir didn't know you were on the shelf.

and the circus that you and the boys can't.

Finito.

Cigarette, George?

You smoke these days?

Glass of sherry, maybe.

You want to drop this line of inquiry, George.

That is my strong advice to you.

Abandon it.

The point is, you sent him packing. He appealed to you, and you slammed the

in his face.

You want to know why, maybe?

Remember the name Otto Leipzig by any chance?

Fabricator, intelligence peddler, confidence man.

Sex maniac, pimp.

Holder many times of our Creep of the Year Award.

Remember that great hero?

It wasn't all fabrication, though, was it?

His Moscow centre material, for instance, I don't remember we ever

on that, ever.

Vladimir trusted him implicitly. On the Moscow stuff, so did we.

George, where the hell are you going with your mind?

And he had a partner.

Yes, that comes back to me, too. An immigrant, an East German.

Worse than East German.

Saxon.

Name of Kretschmar.

First name Klaus.

Klaus for the sea?

Don't ask me why.

I mean, these guys have no logic at all.

Klaus Kretschmer was also a creep, a blonde creep, a lot of muscles.

But that was long ago, Toby.

Who cares?

It was a perfect marriage.

Then I expect it didn't last.

How is she, George?

Fine. It was fine.

George, listen.

Who are you fooling?

Okay? George, listen to me once, please.

Okay?

Maybe I'll give you one selection.

George, I owe you.

Now, you've got to listen.

Saw you pulled me from out of the gutter once in Vienna when I was a stinking

kid. I was a life -sick, a bum.

Saw you got me in my job at the circus.

Saw we had lots of times together. Stole some horses.

You remember the first rule of retirement, George?

No moonlighting, no fooling with loose ends, no private enterprise, ever.

You remember who preaches this rule?

A threat in the corridors?

George Smiley did.

Quote, when it's over, it's over.

Pull down the shutters, go home.

One quote.

We're over, George.

We've got no license. They don't want us anymore.

Forget it.

So, Anne gave you a bad time with Bill Hayden.

So there's Carla.

Carla was Bill's big daddy in Moscow. I mean, George, I mean, this gets very

crude. You know what I mean? It puts a strain on friendship.

Otto Leipzig gave a party, didn't he?

Recognize any of his guests?

Who's the second man, Toby?

George, listen.

You've got to give this up. The crowds have all gone home.

Who is he?

George, pay attention to me, please.

Are you listening?

People forge things like that these days.

You don't understand these matters. You do not buy photographs from Otto

Leipzig.

You don't buy Degas from Sine Banati.

You follow me?

Is this a forgery?

I hope so.

Leipzig had a man called Kirov in play, a Russian intelligence officer based on

Paris. Is this Kirov? Yes, could be.

And is?

Sure. You don't want to get caught between those two, George. You're too

Leipzig traveled a lot.

How did we raise him if we needed him?

For crash meetings, we contacted Klaus Kretschmann.

George, for God's sake, please, hear me once.

So how did we reach Kretschmer?

He's got a nightclub.

No more a cat house.

We left a message there.

What's it called?

Kretschmer's nightclub. What's it called?

The Blue Diamond.

The Bloody Man.

In Hamburg?

Sure. Safari.

The clean side.

Now, George, don't do it, okay?

Whatever it is, drop it.

Cheers. Love to have you. What else did Vladimir tell you about Leipzig's

information? Nothing.

He said the Sandman was looking for a legend for a girl.

Like before.

George, please.

That guy.

You know why they call Kahn the Sandman, don't you?

He has a way of putting to sleep whoever comes too close to him.

Like Vladimir, for instance.

Ever seen one of these before?

From a lady.

She wrote to Vladdy asking for help.

She wants a magician sent her.

She thinks she's going to be killed.

15th district.

George, do me a favor, okay?

You want a Hungarian babysitter someday?

Call me.

You go messing around with creeps like Kirov and Leipzig.

You better have a creep like Toby look after you.

You're an old spy in a hurry, George.

You used to say they were the worst. Oh, they are, Toby, they are.

Now, don't tell me I was speeding.

I wouldn't dream of it, sir.

You know me, sir. Ferguson.

I used to head up the transport pool in the days when you were chief.

What are you doing now I'm not chief?

General Factotum, sir.

Part -time.

But still on the side of the angels. I didn't know we had any angels.

I've got a message from the top, sir.

It's nothing personal, if you take my meaning.

But he says that's it.

What's it?

Time to call it a day, sir.

He doesn't think you need go any further, if you forgive me.

Ferguson, I'm an honorary fellow of Lincoln College, Oxford. I have dining

rights there and limited facilities for improving my mind.

Is the sole end of me proposing to place me under house arrest?

Oh, no.

I've had a bit.

Very well, then. You go back to London, and I'll go to Oxford.

You did remember me, didn't you, Ferguson?

Of course I did.

I'm sorry, Hilary. It's only a fleeting visit, I promise.

What is it, Hilary?

Bug, weevil, bug, you're giraffe.

It's human, Con.

She's human, all the other things.

It's George, Con.

George? It's George.

Connie, it's me.

Damn you, George Smiley.

Damn you and all who sail in you.

Welcome to Siberia. Hello, Con.

Hello.

I said hill.

Yes, Con.

Go and feed the doggie wogs, and when you've done that, feed the filthy

chickadees.

Go and hoof it, darling.

There's nothing he can do to you now.

He's shot his boat.

God knows, so have I.

coming back, you know.

The old fools hung up her books for good.

So if that's what you're after, you can tell Saul Enderby to shove it up his

moat and pipe it.

Con is for the shredder, George.

The leech tries to fool me.

That's because he's a funk.

It's death.

The big D, that's what I'm suffering from.

That boogey's toting in your pocket, or a bloody great gun.

It's fatal either way.

Oh, goody, I've lost.

How's that cow, Anne?

Flourishing, I gather.

You gather?

Wish you would gather.

Gather up for good, or it'll drop around a hole.

What are you after?

You never did anything yet without a reason.

There's mud in your eye.

And in yours, Con.

I need your memory, Con.

Bust. Out of order.

I've discovered love since we parted.

Adles the hormones, rots the teeth.

It's one of those old cases that's popped alive again the way they do.

Nobody seems to know the full story except Connie.

Mice eating the files, are they? You know how mice are.

I know how rats are.

How is the bastard, anyway?

Which one?

Saul bloody Enderby, of course.

Eating well, is he?

Coat shiny, nose wet?

What was it you used to say?

I wouldn't trust Saul Enderby further than I could throw Oliver Lake on.

Kieroff, Connie.

Oleg Kirov.

Ring a bell.

Give me a once upon a time.

Toby Esterhazy still crawling around on his belly, is he? They all remember you,

too. You wouldn't work for that shard, George.

Not for all the gold in Moscow.

You're flying solo.

You've got your Carla look.

Once upon a time.

There was a low -grade Moscow centre -hood called Uncle Ole Kirov, based on

Paris, that wept the Western Circuit. Vladimir put us on to him. Go on from

there.

Oh, Vladimir.

Yes, how is the old stoat?

Still terrifying the virgins of Paddington, I trust?

I expect so.

I thought he walked into a bullet the other night.

Suppose you want me to tell you who shot him.

Well, if you do happen to know, Con, I'm sure we'd all be very grateful for a

name. Oh, George Smiley. The Chelsea pensioner himself, God help us.

Fought every war since Thermopylae.

Hot, cold and deep frozen.

Give it up, George.

Be like the old fool here.

Grab yourself a bit of love and wait for Armageddon.

Tell Max it concerns the Sandman.

Vladimir sent me that message three days ago. He said he had proofs.

He walked into his bullet trying to get them to me.

The fat gentleman on the left is Oleg Kirov, if you remember him.

I'm blind.

Fish that lamp over.

The ginger pig.

Caught at last.

It's a fake.

No, it's not.

Otto Leipzig finally nailed him.

He's put on a year or two, hasn't he?

That's what hate does for you.

Where's the confession?

What did he want for it?

Pay him!

Give him the whole bloody reptile fund if he wants it, but pay him. Not until

I've heard the authorised version from Connie.

Carla would grind Kirov into the dust for this.

Carla would get hold of him.

Go and see to the mad bitch. Make sure she doesn't chuck herself into the mill,

Ray.

Still here, Con.

Concerns the Sandman and what?

The Sandman's putting together a legend for a girl.

Again? So it seems.

You'll never crack it, George.

How is she?

Seems fine.

Do you want the works?

On the record, off the record, all the maybes.

They were students together.

Leipzig and Kirov. No, you silly ass. Bob Hope and Fred Astaire.

25 bleedin' years ago.

Tallinn University, Estonia.

Leipzig pulled the girls and the ginger pig grunted along behind, gobbling up

his leavings, adoring him. And betraying him.

Naturally, darling. Don't be a ninny.

Kirov was cutting his milk teeth for Moscow Centre.

Was he?

Oh, stop flirting, George.

Kiev Training School, course 59.

One of the worst vintages they ever had, and that's saying something.

And at university?

stirring up the Estonian dissidents, organising them, encouraging them, then

shopping them to the secret police.

All charm, our little Kirov.

Always was.

Leipzig was a rogue, of course.

Into all the rackets.

Foreign currency, bit of pimping.

But he was straight.

Never crossed his mind that Kirov could be a stool pigeon.

But it was too late.

You still love me, George.

Like you used to.

Kirov betrays the dissident students. The secret, please round them up.

Leipzig included.

Leipzig does the impossible and escapes.

Which is more than some of us ever did.

George Smiley, born in captivity.

And 20 years later...

Kirov pops up in Paris.

And while in Paris... Assistant to the assistant to the assistant. Cultural

attaché, Soviet embassy.

La cochon culturelle.

It's ginger and frog.

Oh, come on. Come on, let's cut away the wood. And while in Paris is seen by

Vladimir's people and recognized.

Kirov, the spy of Tallinn, right?

Give me a drink.

So Vladimir was on the warpath.

He needs a befriender.

Someone to lead Kirov into sinful ways.

So who did he choose?

Otto Leipzig.

Who better?

And Brother Kirov, little suspecting that his darling Otto knows his wicked

past, walks into it with his eyes wide shut.

Hoo -hoo, Otto, haven't seen you for years.

Come and pimp for me like old times.

Oh, why did Carla hire a moron like that?

May as well have hired him for the Bolshoi Ballet.

Oh, give it up, George. It's over.

It's not a fighting war.

Not like in our day.

It's grey.

Half devils versus half angels.

Nobody knows where the goodies are.

Carla could be right.

You ever thought of that?

He was Carla's man, but he was no good.

What sort of man?

He didn't run moles like bloody Bill Hayden.

He never used the Carla apparatus. He didn't use the Carla code.

What did he use?

A courier.

Sent specially from Moscow. All for him, with love from Carla.

And that's all we ever knew.

He's dead, George.

Dead as I am.

Bloody nearly.

Listen.

It's the end of day.

A Friday.

Somebody's brought a bottle. All the young faces gathered round you, hanging

your every word.

Mother Russia spinning her tail.

How Carla's human, after all. He's got a soft spot.

His one Achilles heel.

Carla had a mistress.

Who? An Estonian girl.

Come on, Con. Define. Expand. Come on.

Some partisan heroine he met, fighting behind the lines.

Winter of 43.

45, he took her to Moscow.

Set her up as his ideal hag.

His Anne.

Tutored her.

Played Pygmalion games with her.

And then? Had her topped.

One -way ticket to the Gulag. What for?

Having doubts.

Hang soft on the revolution.

His idea of a marital piff.

Miss just had a daughter.

Daughter went bonkers.

Carla shoved her in the bin.

End of story.

Oh, I'm tired.

Must have been something I ate. Connie!

For 30 tiresome years... We flattered you, stroked you, dried you out just for

your damned memory.

Now use it.

We owe it to him, to Vladimir.

You do.

Now wake up and be useful.

I want you to go.

Now!

Hilary, I would like you to make us some more coffee, please.

Hilary, would you please make us some coffee?

Make it for him.

to go on.

What was her name?

Don't know.

Guess.

Tatiana. Is that an informed guess?

Little Tatiana.

Went to bed with a gentleman she hadn't been formally introduced to.

Painted saucy slogans on official walls.

Born? October the 12th, 53.

Libra. Didn't savour, though, all that lovely balance.

Loved the snow, so they say.

Carla used to take her to Bogganing.

Sneak off for weekends.

Matters of high business.

Didn't show to begin with, the mad part.

Pretty child, bright, full of fun.

Everything a bolshie baby should be.

Then puberty got her and Mum disappeared.

And the shadows gathered and gathered.

And they didn't go away.

But he still loved her.

Adored her.

Lived for her.

Visited her in the clinics.

Fronted for her.

Swept the message under the carpet, so they say.

Who's they, Con?

Red Army doctors, psychiatrists.

Flipped the leash while he was on a conference in Stockholm.

Claims to have treated the girl, Tatiana, in Leningrad Military Hospital.

Listened to the story of her life.

Tried to cure her.

Shocks, pills.

Didn't work.

Daughter of a high official.

Had the delusion that her father had her mother bumped off.

And what became of the doctor?

Oh, George.

Yes, George.

He walked into a bullet the day after his debriefing.

One of those nice soft ones that don't hurt.

Bill Hayden must have sent Khan in his address.

Thank you, Khan.

You filled in the gaps for me.

Hillary?

Hillary, you heard all that, didn't you?

Do you remember when you had your nervous breakdown and we had to send you

from the circus?

You signed a piece of paper saying you'd never talk to people about your work

there. All the things you overheard by chance.

Whoever may come here, whoever it is... Oh, leave her alone!

What did you come here for if you know it all anyway?

I was sleepwalking.

I've woken up.

Oh, go home, George Smiley.

Bye, Con.

I'm sorry.

George.

That courier.

The one who plays the messenger boy between Kara and the ginger pig.

What about him?

His name's Kraski.

First name, Stefan.

Doubles as a hitman in his spare time.

Thank you.

Trouble with... couriers is, you can never get near enough to buy them.

Loose this swine.

Go well, George.

You too, Con.

They are telling it everywhere.

He died like a soldier, they say.

How does a soldier die?

He was shot.

Tell me what I can do.

You... You can do nothing.

Karl Marx was right.

Self -defense is given only to barbarians.

You are not a barbarian, Sergei.

You are a poet.

My husband died like a soldier of cancer.

My lover was a Jew. He died of a surfeit of opinions.

My daughter lived or dies or lived again according to what they want of her.

I myself have died a few times these last few days.

I do not intend to do it again.

Whiskey, thank you.

I wish to remain alone.

No, come.

I can advise the house.

Concerning Herr Kretschmar, is he from Saxony by any chance?

Yes. Is Herr Kretschmar in the house tonight?

Herr Kretschmar is a man with commitment, sir.

He's obliged to divide time between several people.

If he comes.

I have the goodness to let me learn.

To be here, to learn, it's happening.

Yes, thank you.

Please.

I understand you were once a business partner to an acquaintance of mine named

Otto Leipzig.

I happened to be visiting Hamburg and I wondered if you could tell me where he

is. His address doesn't appear to be listed anywhere.

Will you please?

Otto called me Max.

And your business with Herr Leipzig, if I may ask?

I represent a large company.

Among other interests, we own a literary and photographic agency for freelance

reporters.

So?

Recently, the business relationship between Herr Leipzig and my company was

revived, initially by means of the telephone.

I came here to commission further work, assuming, of course, Herr Leipzig is in

a position to do it.

Of what nature was this work, please, that Herr Leipzig sent to you, Herr Max?

It was a negative photograph of erotic content.

My firm always insists on negatives. Herr Leipzig knew this naturally.

I rather think it must have been taken from that window.

A peculiarity of the photograph is that Herr Leipzig himself was modelling in

it. One therefore assumes that a friend or business partner may have operated

the camera.

There is another aspect.

Yes.

Unhappily, the gentleman who was acting as intermediary on this occasion met

with a serious accident shortly after the negative was put in our care.

The usual line of communication with Herr Leipzig was therefore severed. How

an accident? What sort of accident?

A fatal one.

I came here to talk to Otto and to warn him.

No disturbances?

Yes, sir.

You said Herr Leipzig was an old acquaintance of your parents' company.

As I believe you yourself were long ago, Herr Kretschmar.

Yeah, Leipzig corresponded with my company through a certain general.

A few years ago, the general was obliged to move from Paris to London, but Otto

kept in touch with him.

Until his accident.

Precisely.

It was a traffic accident, an old man, a bit careless.

He was shot.

It wasn't suicide or an accident or anything like that.

Naturally.

You have met Otto?

You know him?

I've met him once.

Where?

I'm not at liberty to say.

Have you brought me something, such as a letter of introduction, a card, for

instance?

No.

Nothing to show?

That's a pity.

Perhaps when I've seen Herr Leipzig, I shall understand your question better.

But you've seen it, evidently, this photograph.

You have it with you, maybe?

I wish to explain to you.

I run a decent house here.

I'm not in the habit of photographing clients.

Other people sell ties. I sell sex.

The important thing to me is to conduct my business in an orderly and correct

manner. But this was not business.

This was friendship.

Let's go, man.

Want a drink?

Scotch, cognac. Thank you, love.

You knew him, Max?

That old general, you were personally connected with him?

Yes.

He was something, I understand.

He was indeed.

A lion, hmm? A lion.

Otto was crazy about him.

Klaus... My name's Klaus.

Klaus, he would say, that Vladimir... I love that man.

A lot of people do not believe in Otto.

Your parent company also. They do not always believe in Otto.

This is understandable.

I make no reproach.

But the General, he believed in Otto.

Not in every detail, but in the big things. I also believed him in the big

things.

You're sure? You have nothing for me, Herr Max?

Beyond the photograph, I have nothing for you.

The General was shot in England?

Yes.

But you consider, nevertheless, Otto, too, is in danger. Yes, but I think he

chosen to be.

Me, too. I also. This is my clear impression.

Many years ago, Otto Leipzig went to prison for me.

In those days, I was not respectable. Now I have money, I can afford to be.

We stole something.

He was caught.

He lied and took the whole rap.

When he came out, I wanted to pay him.

He declined my offers.

Max, you're an Englishman. You will appreciate my position.

Yes, of course, indeed.

Maybe two months ago, the old general comes through on the telephone.

He needs Otto urgently. Not tomorrow, but tonight.

Then the old man tells me, I sent you a letter for him, guarded with your life.

Next day, a letter comes.

Express for Kretschmer, postmark London.

I find Otto.

He's hiding from trouble again. No money.

Only one suit he's got, but he dresses like a film star.

I give him the old man's letter.

Which is a bulky one. A long letter. Many pages.

Klaus, he said to me, lent me some money. I got to go to Paris.

I lent him 500 marks. No problem.

He?

A month ago, he came to see me.

Here in this room.

I'm being frank.

He was, well, I would say, excited.

He wished to use the nightclub. He called it a honey trap.

He would bring a man to the club.

An Ivan, as we call Russians.

This man was the target. He called him the target.

He said...

This is the chance of my life. Everything I have waited for.

What could I say? I owed him.

Also, Klaus, I want you to photograph us.

I said, no problem. I have cameras, video, the latest kind, made in Germany.

He also wanted me to record conversations.

No problem.

I have my people. You follow me?

Did he give you any idea of why he wished to blackmail this man?

He was not precise.

A step on the general's ladder, he said.

For me, the target is enough, but for the general, he's only a step on the

ladder.

For Max, also.

Is he right?

And when it was over, what did Otto think he had achieved?

He laughed.

No, I've taken him over the edge and he can't get back.

It's all that happened.

And you haven't seen Otto again since then? No, not since.

But you do have an address where I might find him.