Original subtitles

Thank you.

Did you ever say hello to a girl you almost married long ago?

Did she smile that faint smile and give your arm a hug in a gesture you'd almost

forgotten?

That's how I feel about Berlin.

Berlin is home.

Why should I be so afraid?

One hour, Karen. Very good, sir. Thank you.

Alan, this is for me.

What on earth are you doing back here?

How did you know I was back?

I want you to think.

Haven't got our ears sufficiently to the ground.

Right to the very top.

It's my old nursery, Frank.

Frowhead, it does have better accommodation, Bernard. Why are you

expenses? I'm sentimental.

In fact, you're sentimental about letting your old friends know you're

town.

What was it last night, Hattie?

A dustbin job at Checkpoint Charlie?

I should be told what's going on on our little island, laddie.

Maybe I don't like to be clocked in all over the place.

No, you've just been clocked in.

Are they watching you or me?

Well, it can hardly be you. They've been there all night.

Hmm. Not impertinent.

So why do they think they are?

Soon chase their tails out of here.

Who's Dastren, Bernard?

Oh, just a maybe. He didn't turn up.

What a coincidence.

The road back just in time for leak number two.

And don't worry.

It wasn't Berlin. It wasn't German desk.

This came out of London.

before it was boomeranged back.

I must say, I think I sure bloody well know what's going on.

A bit old -fashioned, isn't it, Frank?

Was it hidden under somebody's pedicure for the checkpoint?

Telephone. One floor down.

I want that artist back on the wall.

Last time I was up in this little room was the evening your father organized

that surprise birthday party for Frau Hennig.

He had a six -piece dance band downstairs, all dressed up.

Too much drink for a young probationer like me. I passed out on that very bed.

Not, I hasten to add, your father had any idea we were all drinking moonshine.

Not one to mix with the black market, your dad.

You ought to help anyone in Berlin Field who did.

Who knew?

None of your old school Oxbridge nonsense for him.

Or you two.

What's that?

It gets to be a bit of a handicap, doesn't it?

You're a bellinerish man.

You've bombed out Old City with your education.

People who brought up here in those days didn't need universities.

You care to put that in writing and tell them in London?

You're still miffed about Dickie Pryor picking up the German desk?

Well, knowing Berlin doesn't exactly teach you a lot about office politics.

And in that particular subject, Dickie Pryor has read a PhD.

What do you make of them?

Me?

Ah.

It's real, so it, Frank.

It's fairy tales.

It's a lot of guesswork, something Moscow's dreamed up to get us all

You'd have to say that, wouldn't you?

Whatever it is, London Central has to pretend nothing's wrong.

They look to me like a photocopy of SIS minutes straight out of London office.

And then boomerang back as a crude attempt at destabilization.

Trying to undermine Brahms, are they?

Is that what last night's dustbin was all about?

Sounds like Tiki, if you will.

London, bloody central.

Why do you suppose they were watching you?

Maybe someone trying to tell me to stay home in London.

What's the line of dialogue these days, Frank?

Beat it, you sobbits.

You're loitering with intent.

You intend loitering with intent, Simon?

Cheap day return, Dickie Cryer called it.

Stay and have a look around. Then you can go back to London and tell them the

rodent is somewhere under their desk.

Not mine.

Come to supper tonight.

What luck, informal.

You're still here.

Where were the papers left?

I was in the Turkish quarter.

How were you signalled?

Better box key.

Who sent it?

A girl.

She dropped it.

In the palm of my hand.

I've been waiting for you.

Are you well?

Yeah.

Happy?

Yeah.

Why don't you come over and have a cup of coffee?

You're always fine.

And how's Samson?

My mother or my wife?

Why, your mother first. Don't you think so?

They're both well.

And the kinder? Oh, the kinder. They're growing up too fast.

So nothing changes.

Nothing changes.

Everything changes.

Look at me. Look at my ugly old face.

The decaying body.

And you'd say nothing changes.

Life is cruel, Bernie. You'll discover it too.

Life is cruel.

You were always the prettiest girl in Friar Henning.

So, you shouldn't complain.

You are a terrible liar, Frank.

But you may tell me all those lies as often as you like.

Then shall I tell you how often I've fallen in love with you?

Pardon me?

Are you both still in pharmaceuticals?

I hope you don't intend to go over to the other side, Bernie.

They have all the medicine they need now in the East.

And they are getting pretty rough with medicine sellers.

I'm not going anywhere, Liesl. This is just a holiday.

Holiday.

Yes, with the two of you, talking like on third at seven o 'clock in the

morning.

Have you seen Werner?

Yes, he brought me here last night.

I still remember the night he was born in this house, Frank.

With his father hiding upstairs and his mother lying on the kitchen table.

Very bad air raid.

One of your English bombs, Frank, stopped the church clock on

It's been half past seven for the last 40 years.

I always tell Werner that he stopped the clock.

The night he was born.

That clock's been going again for the last six years, probably.

It shows how much you're getting yourself out of the house these days.

Werner, yes, he was lucky.

I mean, I don't suppose there were many young Jewish boys knocking around Berlin

in the 40s.

Werner survived because his father was a digger of graves in the Jewish

cemetery.

In Vicency.

He was born lucky.

Most of the time he still needs his love.

Thank you for the coffee.

One day you must come to dinner.

Preferably when the two of us can be alone.

Certainly.

Tell me, Bernie, is Werner in some sort of trouble?

You know, I give him half of my life's savings.

He said he could make them work better for me than the banks.

Well, Werner will never cheat you, Liesl.

Well, a woman on her own is helpless.

No one will ever tell her anything.

Frank is a naughty boy.

Who told you about Frank Harrington being a naughty boy?

For instance, Mrs. Harrington spends much too much time back in England, and

Frank's got other amusements.

Oh, they have a large house to look after back there.

Frank owns houses everywhere.

You ask him, for instance, about the one he's got out in Lubavs, where he keeps

his popsies tucked away.

I'll show you.

Wait a minute.

This old donkey.

Always after young girls.

But he could be your grandfather.

Axel, hallo, yes.

Mr. Bern, what on earth are you doing back here?

Four years, Axel.

Five. My father counts the days.

Rolf, how is the old bastard?

Always asking after you.

I can't think why.

You do not want to make a social call, don't you?

First office box numbers, Axel.

Impossible.

That's citizen's privacy.

I'd lose my job.

1 ,028, 425.

We all figured you'd grow up to be a gangster. Did we ever tell you that? Oh,

yes, many times, Axel. Like we told you, you grew up to be a left -handed cop. 1

,000 is Berlin. What's 28?

Blue bars.

Tomorrow lunchtime, Axel.

Street name and number.

I'll come to your house.

I'll come to your house with some old stories for the wife and kids, Axel.

Fair enough.

Aye, what dangerous games we used to play in the ruins of this city.

Falling out of bombed -out buildings.

Trying to fly model planes that wouldn't fly.

Throwing stones at Russian tanks.

Now you go on playing these dangerous games, one foot in the east, one in the

west.

I look back now at those adventures and I shudder.

Which... is, I suppose, why I am no longer suitable for employment in the

Who are you hiding from today with your healthy paranoia?

One of Frank Harrington's people.

Who would Frank Harrington have somebody following you?

That bloody old man is in a panic.

The whisper says there's a leak in Berlin.

So he flips around to make sure it's nothing to do with him.

Ah, the twaddle.

Frank's tired.

All he thinks about now is his pension.

He doesn't even hate communists anymore.

Is there a leak?

There is no leak.

Really?

I'll tell Rolf Mauser it's just his paranoia, shall I?

See what I mean?

Day and night.

Frank's really put the boot in, hasn't he?

Even the Americans won't use me these days.

Sitting on Checkpoint Charlie with you last night was the first operational

contact I have had in five years.

You actually asked Berlin Field for a job? On my knees to Frank Harrington?

Never.

That's hard on Frank.

Perhaps he misconstrues some of your...

Extramural activities.

You might imagine a little discreet black market here and there.

Set up with Liesel's life savings.

Don't mother me. Please, Fernie. Oh, sure.

You know us much better.

Pretty girl.

Your daughter?

Open it up.

Not that. It's mine.

I don't care. It belongs to Herbert von Karajan.

But I do, since it happens to belong to a senior British army officer.

Do you have identification?

Yes.

I would get your identification brought out to date if I were you, Major Bishop.

Spied three months ago.

Scheiss Nazi.

Running around, making Frank Harrington's boot polish and chasing

I've been drinking beer in here for 30 years.

Wedding present from Liesl?

Still at Muni?

She called me last week.

Wanted to know how I was.

How were you?

What the hell would you feel if it was Fiona?

Well, what is Major Bishop supposed to be carrying in his briefcase?

Half a million Swiss francs. A new paper.

Wow.

Been sightseeing, Major Bishop?

It was you.

What were you about?

Setting the dogs on Verna.

Verna's beginning to think you've closed the doors against her.

Beginning to think?

Verna was blackballed after the council, Sir Verna.

We made an intercept on Karlshorst for the very first time, but somehow it was

reported back to the Russians.

Werner was in charge of communication security that night.

Well, I'm sure it wasn't him.

Werner was the leaked source.

Why didn't you ask Joe Brody? I called him in to carry out the investigation.

Is that why Joe Brody's here tonight, to put the finger on Werner?

Well, Joe's an old friend of Werner's.

Goes back a long way.

Thought it was you, Samson.

Yeah, I know, I know. What the hell am I doing back in Berlin?

I'm to check up on Frank, if you'd help.

He has quite a collection, doesn't he?

Worth a pretty packet, Samson.

Still on the Berlin staff, then, Joe?

No, no. I never was.

I'm only a part -timer in your games.

Always have been.

Do you remember anything about the Karlshorst business, Joe?

I'd have known you had an ulterior motive, Frank.

Was Karlshorst a genuine leak, or...? Never was proved, one way or another.

Who were the suspects?

They were under the building.

I gave you a free hand. I didn't want the Yanks to think we were covering

anything up.

How did the finger come to point at Verna Faulkner?

Process of elimination.

How many people were involved?

I had the whole office on duty that night. Staff on two ships.

Brett, Verna, Fiona, myself.

Hmm.

Was Charles Trent around?

Trent? He was FCO.

The foreign office guy?

No. No chance of printing it on him.

The way I understood it, he had no access to the building.

You can remember it so well.

Sure.

It took a little time to dig Trent's file out of London, but he was clear.

In fact, if I remember correctly, everyone cleared on file except Bernard

Bolton.

Yes, well, it stands to reason, doesn't it?

Bernard didn't have a London clearance.

Doesn't mean to say he was a Soviet agent, though.

Like I said, nothing was proved one way or the other.

There were no charges made.

Officially.

But unofficially, he was given the boot.

I think I should explain, Joe.

Bernard was at school with Verna Fulton.

Your loyalty does you credit, Samson.

Thank you, Joe.

Jesus, I know guys in your position would be trying to pin it on their

So, guten tag.

Great name and number?

What if I lose my job on Monday?

Hello, you old English whore!

Hey!

My father gets the best of both worlds.

Social justice in the East, decadence in the West, and duty free in no man's

land.

I heard you were here, Bernd. I had to come over and see you.

Here.

A drink to old Uri, wherever he is.

They say he shot out the lights for you.

He was set up, Bernd.

I just want to be sure you don't think it was anything that I might have said.

No.

So there's...

Someone in London trying to flush us out.

Your old Brahms network.

Oh, don't worry about him. He doesn't even know who Beethoven is.

I thought I knew Berlin like a dentist knows a patient's mouth.

Lubars.

Trust Frank Harrington to have his mistress in the one part of the city

looks like Ascot.

Monsieur,

are you all right?

There

is

my house. You want to wash them?

Oh, thank you.

You're welcome.

You speak English very well.

You have to.

In this town?

Do you

know this is the first time I've been out to Lubasz?

It's amazing, isn't it? 20 minutes from the city center, and you're right out in

the country.

If it wasn't for the wall all around us, whichever way we turn.

Would you like some coffee?

Yes, please.

You get used to it.

Not everyone does.

My grandfather was in Berlin once and couldn't stop looking at the wall.

He used to have a farm in East Prussia, 800 kilometers from Berlin.

And it was still in Germany.

Do you know how far from your Poland's now?

Less than 60.

Very good coffee.

I have it delivered from Cadivet.

You don't get into town too often.

It does get a bit lonely out here.

It does.

I also get very bored.

I'm a friend of Frank's.

I work with him.

Frank Harrington?

Is anyone Frank in Berlin?

Do you have a message from him? Is something wrong?

I hope not.

You didn't tell me your name.

You see, Frank's in a very sensitive job.

And sometimes that means checking up on him and on his closer friends or

companions.

He'd have a lot of explaining to do about a house in Lubaus. How long have

been here?

I don't have to answer your question.

Not yet.

What do you mean?

Well, if it comes to an official inquiry, you will have to answer all

Mrs. Faulkner.

Did Frank give you my name?

Frank doesn't even know I'm here.

What is your name?

I'd rather we kept his private life private.

You know, I mean, how would he feel?

Young man in his own office.

Tile reports on who you are, where you go, who you meet, how much money you've

got in bank accounts.

Other men you might have met in previous escapades.

You still haven't told me your name.

No, I haven't, Mrs. Fulton.

It's Samson, Bernard Samson.

What a very professional spy you are, Mr.

Bernard Sampson.

I wonder how Bernard would feel if he knew where his great friend was and what

he was doing.

Where does Bernard think you are?

I imagine that is a tricky question.

The Coca -Cola driver with the big truck.

I'd really love to know how that works.

Is it a friend of yours sending Werner postcards from Munich?

I can't believe you'd fall for that old trick.

Or is it Frank helping out with one of our couriers when he's not at home with

his wife and family?

Frank must be an income scissor at baths out some of the time, but he's a real

man, Mr. Sampson. And Werner is not.

And you hold hands together in the pram.

And watch the wall being built. I know all of that.

But you try.

And live with him for a year. And find out what he's really like.

He can't make up his mind about anything at all.

It's a very strange life you must lead, Mrs. Faulkner.

having all your coffee delivered from Cardivet because you don't go into town

case you bump into your own husband.

Frank will get you kicked out of the service.

I wouldn't mention any of this to Frank if I were you.

I mean, if it comes to an official inquiry, he'll probably lose his job,

pension.

And if that happens, he might turn around and think it's all your fault.

You bastard!

Only doing my job.

So was Eichmann. Well, I'm sure you know more about German history than I do,

Mrs. Baldwin, so I'll just have to take your word for that.

Get out!

Get out!

It's me.

That's my bat.

They're not with you, then?

Hello?

Hello, darling. Are you calling me from Berlin?

Oh.

Uh, no, she's not. I think she said she was taking the kids to see your mother.

Of course I'm alone, darling.

George is still in Rome waiting for his audience.

Hi.

My brother -in -law.

He's been in Berlin?

That's probably an official secret.

Well, official, darling, I'll tell you.

Why was he phoning you?

Looking for his wife and family.

You wouldn't know the feeling, Giles.

My intention is to upgrade the entire Brahms operation.

If you don't lose it altogether.

An upgrade would give me an extra undersecretary.

I was rather thinking in terms of your expertise.

And the pleasure it would be to work with you more closely.

5 -7 -4 -1 -6 -4.

Hello?

Did the trip go well?

I did what I was told.

Not you, darling.

You never do what you're told.

I did ring,

you know, several times.

From Berlin. But you were never in.

I mean, I wouldn't want you to think I hadn't called.

Well, I must have been out.

How was Berlin?

Out every evening, then, were you?

Well, Frank Harrington tell us about the leak.

Everyone's running around like headless hens, vetting, counter -vetting.

Did you find out anything in Berlin?

All right.

All right, I didn't ask.

Brett, today, he was vetting you, was he?

I was invited there for lunch, Bernie, with the children.

Vetting them as well, I suppose.

Darling, I was told you're expected back on Monday.

I thought you'd be spending today with Werner. Otherwise, of course, I wouldn't

have gone away.

Werner's the last person I would have been spending today with.

Circumstances. What circumstances?

Circumstances of not believing a bloody word anyone's telling me.

You rang, didn't you?

This afternoon at Brett's.

And I answered the phone and you hung up on me.

You'd have been in time to come down and join us if you'd opened your mouth,

said hello.

What's the matter with you?

You think I'm having an affair with Brett Rensselaer?

Is that where your paranoia has led you?

Well, damn you to do it.

You were sent to Berlin to... of Brahms 4, and that you made no attempt to clear

it through me. What in hell did you imagine you were going to do with it?

We didn't know it was Brahms 4, Brett.

But if it was?

German desk has responsibility to border crossings.

It's our family's shitheads if anything goes wrong.

That's your problem.

Brahms Network is my desk, Richard. Don't you ever forget that.

So? No, Brahms 4.

Who did you see?

Werner Volkmann, Wolf Mauser.

Did you go over?

I'm not in the field, Brett.

I'm not authorized to cross the wall.

You didn't tell Frank this leaked material was genuine.

Frank really doesn't give a damn whether it's genuine or not, just so long as it

doesn't come dribbling out of his Berlin office.

You're a bit hard on Frank, aren't you?

Does he understand the implications?

If our people on the other side get to know the leaks from London, they'll

running like rabbits.

Frank believes that that's the intention of leaking the leaks back to us.

They're going for bronze.

You wouldn't have a penciled -in name for the leaks.

Mr. Giles Trent.

Giles?

I've known him forever.

You'll be wasting your time there, old boy.

The report will be with the DG tomorrow.

All right.

All right.

But I warn you, Bernard.

You go behind my back just once more.

Coming home?

Look at it.

Well, bring the papers home.

We can't all be classified.

Where are you?

Charles Trent, Foreign Office.

Played cricket for Blue Mentals.

Belongs to Whitehall but trespasses regularly.

Knocks off an awful lot of secretaries.

You're quite a little gumshoe, aren't you?

I begin to worry how much you know about me.

Do you want me to come with you?

Catch the pieces when you throw them out the window.

Call the duty officer, Julian.

Get him to send a couple of minders.

Whoever's on the roster.

Okay.

It's all right. I stuck a wedge in the door last time someone went in.

Go home, Junior.

How the devil did you get in? I'm a member of the Magic Circle.

If Fiona sent you here to talk about Tessa, you can forget it.

It's none of your damn business.

In fact, nothing I do could be any of your damn business.

I saw you on a plane last week, flying into Tegel.

You mean to tell me you've come here in the middle of the night to give me a

bloody parking ticket?

Did you have authorization to go over the wire into the East?

I went to see the Berlin Ensemble and for a meal at the Ganymede.

You'd have been ID'd at Charlie and picked up long before you got anywhere

the Ganymede.

Unless, of course, they were expecting you.

Were you in the Cars Club tonight?

Yeah. Talking with a member of the Russian embassy staff?

It's a chess club.

I play with all kinds of people.

I don't ask what they do for a living.

I think you was KGB, don't you?

The Russian is a friend of my sister's.

They met at the opera.

Oh.

How was Berlin?

I tried not to look too hard and left before I could smell it.

And home?

Hm?

Frau Liesel's.

Listen, I don't want to feel that Berlin is part of my life anymore.

This is my home.

You're my home.

It works against us all the time.

It could be paranoia.

And knowing each time you're in danger.

I sprung a little mole tonight.

The mole?

Giles Trent.

Giles?

Oh, I don't believe it.

I'm not the only one who won't.

Under interrogation from the heavies at MI5, she's not very careful.

Oh, my God.

Charles is hardly a literal mole, is he? He's an FCO undersecretary.

Hmm.

Fell rather too easily into a net, I think.

What do you mean?

Remember the Carlson intercept, please?

How could I ever forget?

Was Charles trying to actually... In the Berlin office, the night Count's horse

leaped. You remember Giles, darling? He was up there every night for coffee to

see if any of the girls wanted to lift back into town.

Yeah, but can you remember him being in the office that particular evening?

Yes. Frank had us all working late.

So Giles didn't get to give anyone a lift.

He was quite miffed.

You mean you think Karlshorst could have been leaked by him?

I suppose that might make sense.

It would also let Werner off the hook, wouldn't it?

Did you see Werner?

No. And this new wife of his?

Oh, she's done a bumble.

Already?

Coca -Cola salesman from Munich with a very big truck.

Actually, I found her shacked up with Frank Harrington.

What?

Couldn't quite work out whether Verna knew about it or not.

Do you really think I could have had an affair with Brett Rensselaer?

I love you.

Yeah.

Okay.

Giles Trent.

I think it's so -so.

Is there a metal light?

There are no more lights.

He likes the dark.

Giles!

Okay, what the hell happened? I should be asking you that question.

You made a quasi -arrest without any form of authorization.

Poor old child. He could hammer you if he had a mind.

Poor old child, is it?

One has to assume your interrogation went way over the top.

My interrogation served its purpose, Dickie. An attempted suicide is as good

a confession in my book.

And his sister's in there with him.

How does she turn up?

She lives around the corner.

You don't quite understand who you all are.

You must be aware that your brother worked in the Foreign Office.

Yes. And that some of his work was classified.

We have to find out why this happened.

It happened because of whatever happened last night.

Yes, well, we're going to get your brother into a nice comfortable room

medical attention on tap.

I think I have some right to his next of kin to make that decision myself.

The ambulance will be here in a moment. I wonder, could I trouble you to put

some of these things into a case, a bag?

Just enough for a few days.

I'm going with him.

Well, if you like, I'll phone the office and ask. They almost always say no.

It's the trouble of getting anything done at this time of the morning. None

the really senior people can be found.

I thought you were a senior.

Yes, exactly. That's what I mean.

There'll be nobody senior enough to countermand my orders.

Poor Giles.

To be working for people like you.

Was it you here with him last night?

Married in opera, but not in Seville.

Six letters.

Any ideas?

I know nothing about opera.

I hate opera.

Besides... That's not the crossword.

That's the classifieds you're pretending to read.

I'm just looking for another job.

Coming home?

Yeah.

How's suicide?

He'll survive.

I don't care whether he lives or dies.

So long as he doesn't drag Tessa into all this mess.

Can you keep her out of it?

Rather depends on Tessa.

Is she sleeping with him?

How do you define sleeping?

Especially with Tessa.

If the department finds out, they'll send someone round asking questions.

And then George is sure to get to know about it.

He's back from Rome tomorrow.

Poor George.

Because it's silly, sweetie.

Funny, isn't it?

It's the cuckolded husbands rather than the guilty parties that seem to lose

face these days.

You smell good.

I've been to the cabinet office.

The nicer you smell, the more favours you get.

Does that rule apply for husbands as well?

I'll give it a try.

Nice to see you again, Mr. Thompson.

Ted Riley.

God.

How are you? How's the... I don't believe it. How's the family?

Bright and shining.

Now, listen to me.

I hear you've been back to Berlin.

You getting your hands dirty again?

Oh, well, I'm just a messenger boy these days, Ted.

Makes two of us this way.

Shunted out into the sidings with our wheels getting rusty, eh?

Tell us this.

How is the old place?

Well, it's not so old anymore, Ted. I mean, there are bits of Berlin that even

you wouldn't recognise.

I'd know the people.

That would be enough.