All language subtitles for Partners.In.Crime.UK.S01E04

[Wind howling ]

[Clock ticking ]

[Clock chiming]

[Telephone ringing ]

Yes?

It's Gilbert.

MAN:
They're coming.

Move.

[ Click, dial tone]

[Keys jingle]

Good night, sir.

TUPPENCE:
This is so exciting.

We haven't been up to London
for a night out in months.

TOMMY: Well, it's not all
going to be fun, remember.

We're bringing a business plan to
Carter.

We've got to show him
we're serious about --

TUPPENCE: Beresford's Barnets.
I know.

When did you get these printed?

Last week.

How many?

- A thousand.
- A thousand?

I wish you'd get behind me
on this, Tuppence.

- We're sitting on a gold mine.
- I am behind you.

Well, you sound bored to death.

- Are you?
- No, no, of course not.

The price I paid for those wigs

is unheard of
in the current climate.

You're right.
You're right.

It's just...
we've been stung before.

Disappearing bee disease
is no laughing matter.

I know, Tommy, but to be abandoned by
your own swarm...

TOMMY:
It's not just me.

It's happening
all over the world.

It's a beekeeping phenomenon.

Okay-

Okay, let's do this.

Let's knock the socks
off Uncle Carter

with an investment offer
he can't resist.

That's the spirit.

And if it doesn't interfere
with the plan,

can we try and have a little fun at the
opera, too?

MAN:
Hold on tight, please.

[ Indistinct conversations]

Uncle.

This doesn't look like
your sort of place.

Oh, really?
No, no.

They do a wonderful
seafood platter.

So, how's George?
Scout trip going all right?

Yes, he loves the highlands.

Had a run-in with a billy goat.
Look

Tuppence, you couldn't grab
a couple of brandies, could you?

And something for yourself.

Yes, of course.

Now, Uncle, I know the bees didn't quite
work out,

but I'm sure you'll relish
the prospect of --

Yes, yes, yes.
Be quiet and listen.

Your country is in grave danger.

A British scientist
by the name of Gilbert Worthing

has gone missing from
a military base in Norfolk.

He was working on a top-secret project
for the Home Secretary.

I want you to meet
an agent called Harrison

at the opera tonight.

You'll be sharing a box.

He'll have a message for me.

Just remember everything
he says, word for word.

Why can't you go?

There's been a leak
on the Third Floor,

which is why I am having to
meet you in this flea pit.

I can't work with anyone
inside the building

because wherever I go,
the Russians find out about it.

I just need a nobody,
a go-between.

But this comes
from the very top, Tommy.

It's absolutely hush-hush.

You're to tell no one,
not even Tuppence.

But she'll smell a rat.

Well, you'll just have to
lie better.

Well, where's Carter?

Tommy?

Thank you.

MAN: Ladies and gentlemen,
please take your seats.

- Tonight's performance...
- You're having another?

Well, you only live once.
Will you join me?

No. No, I won't be able
to enjoy the performance.

It'll be George's Nativity play all over
again.

[ Indistinct conversations]

Everyone's so glamorous, Tommy.

TOMMY: Come on.
Let's find our box.

I'm sorry.
I've booked.

And so...tall.

- I'm sorry, sir.
- They must be here somewhere.

What about these
in this envelope?

I'm sorry, sir. There must be some kind
of mistake.

Could you give those back?
Those aren't your tickets.

USHER: Box C. Your friends
are at the bar, sir.

Look at us,
like bloody royalty!

MAN:
Ladies and gentleman,

tonight's performance
will begin in three minutes.

BOB:
Looks like we're sharing a box.

I'm Tuppence Beresford.

- Tommy Beresford.
- Nice to meet you both.

Bob Harrison.
The wife's over there.

Oh, well,
Tuppence can introduce herself.

What? You --

TOMMY:
Harrison, you say?

Yeah, I don't go in for
this sort of nonsense, really.

The son got us the tickets.
He works in the city.

I'd as soon spend the night
at the dog track.

Huh, opera.
It's utter nonsense, eh?

Bob's in the navy.

What does your fella do?

He's in wigs.

Beautiful, isn't it?

I don't care for
all this fancy business.

So, I'm up on deck,
and I see it in the distance.

It's a great white.
It's unmistakable.

I look closer.

It's not one, but three,
and they start circling us.

There's this young lad, Boris,
Russian sailor.

Russian? Boris?

You know, you should
be writing this down.

- It'd make a great picture.
- Yes, yes, of course.

Right.

Ready.

- I want credit if you make it.
-[ Both laugh]

MAN: Ladies and gentlemen, please take
your seats.

Oh, hang on.

Come on, girl.

MAN: Please take your seats, ladies and
gentleman.

- I'll see you later.
- MAN: The performance will begin

in one minute.

[ Indistinct conversations]

- Oh. I'm sorry.
- God's sake.

WOMAN: Sir. Sir!
Your umbrella.

[ Applause ]

[ "Marriage of Figaro Overture" plays]

Sorry, did Boris say,
"Control the fish,"

or, "Control the Finnish"?

BOB:
Look what you made me do!

- Bob! Bob!
- You bloody wasted my drink.

Oh. Oh.

Are you all right, Mr. Harrison?

MRS. HARRISON:
Bob! Are you all right?

- What's the matter?
- MRS. HARRISON: Bob? Bob?

Mr. Harrison!

Are you all right?
Are you all right?

[Choking ]

MRS. HARRISON:
Bob! Give him some air.

Speak to me, Bob.

[ Crying 1

- Get a doctor, Tuppence.
- Yes.

Bob?

[ Birds chirping ]

They're saying
it was a heart attack.

"Wife says,
'He's fit as a fiddle."'

Fit as a fiddle, they say.

[Ringing]

WOMAN:
Hello? Third Floor.

[Whispering ]
Yes, hello.

I'm ringing to speak
to Major Carter.

WOMAN:
Hello?

I called a few times last night.

WOMAN:
Hello? Third Floor.

Y-Yes.
I need to speak to Major Carter.

WOMAN: I'm sorry.
It's a bad line.

- Could you call back?
-[ Dial tone ]

Oh, for pity's sake.

Tommy, your shirt is ruined!

[Ringing]

- WOMAN: Hello. Third Floor. -Please
don't hang up.

I need to speak to Major Carter.
It's Thomas Beresford.

WOMAN:
Major Carter said,

"Cricket canceled
due to bad weather.

- Please sit tight."
- Cricket?

TUPPENCE:
Tommy, what are you doing?

You'd better start talking, Thomas
Beresford, right now.

"Boris the sailor
wrestled a white shark.“

Well, Boris is obviously Russia.

The sailor could be their navy or a
submarine.

You're very good at this.

Too late for flattery, Beresford.

And the white shark is...

America?

Could they be planning
an attack?

Rotten luck
he had a heart attack

before finishing the message.

What if it wasn't
a heart attack?

Harrison spilled his drink
on your shirt.

This stain.

TOMMY:
I don't follow.

It could have been poison.

- No. You don't mean he was --
- TUPPENCE: Murdered?

- Well, we have to find out.
- Now, hold on.

Carter said sit tight.
He would contact me.

- The message was very clear.
- TUPPENCE: Oh, come on Tommy.

What harm could
a little investigating do?

Then when Carter
gets in contact,

we'll have the whole thing
tied up in a bow.

Our only lead is a dirty shirt.

Not just that.

There was a man
watching the box.

Maybe he was involved.

Can you even remember
what he looked like?

TUPPENCE:
Tall, dark.

He was very handsome.

Oh.

I can picture him right now.

Try not to.

[Bell tolling]

ALBERT: I'm sure Benjamin
will be very happy here,

Mr. and Mrs. Jones.

'Bye-bye.
'BYE-bye.

- Bye.
- Thanks.

- You're not sending George here?
- Why? Shouldn't we?

I need you
to identify this stain.

It's the only clue we have.

I'm in the middle
of an open day.

But it won't take very long.
Just get your thingamabob kit.

The head
is already cross with me

for missing time
on our last adventure.

He's right, Tuppence.
This is meant to be top secret.

Oh. Top secret?

Death of a spy at the opera.

Missing scientist.

A real mystery.

[ Clears throat]

Can I get you anything from
the canteen, Mr. Pemberton?

Yes, please, Barbara.
Uh, Miss Kemp.

Um...a crumpet.

Thank you...

Miss Kemp.

Chemistry?

Drama department, actually.

[ Chuckles ]

ALBERT:
Pass the sodium hydroxide.

Sweep her off her feet, Albert.
Take her on an adventure.

Hydrochloric acid.

I wouldn't rush it.

Play the long game, Albert.

Worked for me.

Well, not all girls will be
as patient as I was, Tommy.

Cyanide.

Poison.

He was murdered.

I knew it.

Are you going to tell me
what this is about?

I'm still on Carter's books,
you know.

I do have clearance.

We can't.

I'm -- I'm -- I'm sorry.

Yes.

Good old Albert,
called in to test for stains

and nothing more,
part-time nobody.

There is one other thing
you can help us with.

Have you ever heard
of a scientist

Called Gilbert Worthing?

Gilbert Worthing?

We were at Cambridge together.

He's an atomic physicist.

Atomic?

As in bombs?

He worked on
the Manhattan project.

TOMMY:
At least tell me the plan.

I'm not sure
we should even be here.

We're going to talk
to Mrs. Harrison.

[ Indistinct conversations]

So sorry for your loss.

Oh.

Thank you.

Your husband
had a message for us.

What?

About his work.

Who are these people?

They were at the opera.

They sat next to me
and your dad.

He talked to us about
a sailor called Boris.

Boris died at sea.

What you bringing that up for?

MRS. HARRISON:
What are you talking about?

I think
he really was in the navy.

What were they doing
in our box, then?

DENNIS: I don't know what
they're on about, Mum.

It'll be all right.
Don't worry.

Wait a minute.

Um...you didn't seem too fond
of the box seats.

I was wondering what made you get the
tickets.

- My son got them.
- I didn't buy her a box.

I could barely afford
the nosebleeds.

TOMMY: Terribly sorry.
Excuse me.

They were in the wrong seats.

There must have been
two Harrisons.

The man I saw has to be
the real Harrison.

DENNIS: It's all right, Mum.
Don't worry.

They killed the wrong man.

[ Gasps ]

TOMMY:
Inspector Beresford.

We understand somebody here
has been accepting bribes

to upgrade tickets
to box status.

What?
No, not bribes.

It was a mistake, an honest mix-up with
the tickets.

Well, then would you care
to verify the identity

of the Mr. Harrison
who lost his box seat?

WOMAN:
I don't have his details,

but he left behind an umbrella,
a fancy one.

We kept it for him.

Mm.

Can you remember
what he looked like?

WOMAN:
He was tall, dark hair.

Had a face like, uh...

- Cary Grant?
- Yes.

Brown eyes.

TUPPENCE:
High cheekbones.

A stern but tender stare.

- Yes.
- Yes.

Yes, well, thank you very much.

You've been most helpful.
Come along, Tuppence.

REPORTER: It's a menace,
this choking, eye-watering smog.

Our intrepid cameraman drove through
fog-shrouded London

to report on the traffic chaos.

Traffic in London was completely at a
standstill...

- It's beautiful.
- Yes.

I certainly want to return it
to the rightful owner.

Ah, serial number.

Leave it with me.
I'll give him a call later.

Any chance I could call him?
I'd like to return it in person.

I'm not in the business
of giving out customer details.

I'm sure he'd like to meet
the man who found it.

I rather think that's up to him.

Will you let go?!

[ Clattering ]

I'm terribly sorry.

Be sure to tell him that a friend of
Carter's returned it.

Remember to say the name Carter.

- Tuppence.
- That be all?

- Thank you.
- What the hell are you doing?

Have a little faith, Tuppence.

Look.

- All we have to do is wait.
-[ Dialing ]

Ah, Mr. Harrison?

Good afternoon, sir.
I believe I have your umbrella.

[ Footsteps ]

[Bell jingles]

What about him?

No.
I said tall and dark.

All right, all right.

Harrison's smart.

- He sent someone.
-[ Bell jingles]

Wait!
We're friends of Carter's.

Where's Carter?
Who are you?

Carter's my uncle.
He's unavailable.

TUPPENCE: What's your relationship to
Mr. Harrison?

He's my...mentor.

In music?

We met at a literary salon.

He has a message for us.
For Carter.

We were at the opera.

Mr. Harrison was intercepted.

If you could tell us
where he is.

No.

We can help him.

Forget it.

I keep him safe, no one else.

Beresford's Barnets?

Tell him to contact us.

Let's beat the smog, Tuppence.
Come on home.

TUPPENCE: What makes you think he'll go
straight to Harrison?

TOMMY: Something tells me they're more
than just friends.

TUPPENCE: Oh.
Do you think Carter knows?

I suspect Harrison is pretty good at
leading a double life.

I bet he must have broken
a few girls' hearts.

Not yours, I hope.

- GIRL: Mom! Mom! Where are you?
- WOMAN: There you are.

TOMMY:
Stay close.

TUPPENCE:
Keep hold of my hand.

This way.

- Oh.
- MAN: Excuse me.

[Woman coughing ]

TUPPENCE:
Excuse me.

- Tommy?
- TOMMY: Tuppence?

- Tommy?
'tuppence?

Tommy?

Tuppence?

Tommy? Tommy?

Tuppence?
Tuppence?!

WOMAN: Where are you trying
to get to, madam?

TUPPENCE:
I've lost my husband.

I don't know.
I should...

probably try and get back
to Waterloo.

WOMAN:
This way to Waterloo, madam.

Are you sure? I could have sworn that
way was Seven Dials.

This way, madam.
I'm certain.

That's right.

Keep going.

Just at the end of the tunnel, madam.

That's it.
Turn right for Waterloo.

Is this your usual beat?

That's definitely Seven Dials,
or can't you see?

Aah!

[ Gunshots ]

[ Breathing heavily]

[ Clatter]

[ Door opens]

Tuppence?

Tuppence.

You're shaking.

I looked everywhere for you.

What happened?

[ Crying 1

[Clock ticking ]

[ Dog barking in distance]

[ Yawns ]

What time is it?

10:00.

10:00?

You needed the rest.
And now you need the sustenance.

Oh, Tommy, how lovely.

Marmalade!

[Toast scraping ]

Are you eating?

I've been up since 6:00.

Not Mrs. Morgan's cockerel?
That bloody bird.

I just couldn't sleep.

Well, that'll be
the late-night bikkies.

Anything from Harrison?

Well, let's try Albert,
see if he's heard anything.

No. I'm afraid
this is where it ends.

We had another postcard
from George this morning.

What's wrong?
Is he all right?

TOMMY:
He's fine.

I just imagined having to
write back to him...

to tell him his mother...
had been shot.

It's just too dangerous, Tuppence.

But...

if we work together --

TOMMY:
For either of us.

That is the end of the matter.

[ Mid-tempo music playing ]

Have you finished
the stock list?

Yes. I think we need to order
more brunettes.

Doris Day, Grace Kelly,
Diana Dors.

Blondes.
We need to order more blondes.

Bills, bills, bills, bills.

Oh, a letter
for Beresford's Barnets.

It has to be from him.

It has to be Harrison.

W-We'll miss our chance.

Come on.

Keys.

There is no 201.

There has to be.

Tommy, that's him.

Are you sure?

TUPPENCE:
There.

- Aah!
-[ Tuppence screams ]

No.
Oh, my God!

Is he dead?

HARRISON:
T-Tell -- Tell Carter...

there's a spy in the house.

They've taken Gilbert.

It's...

[ Mumbles]

Did he say "N"?

I heard "M."

Did you say "N“ or "M"?

[Groans]

He's gone.

What if we led them to him?

What if we had Harrison killed?

No, no, no, no, no.

[ Doorbell ringing,
Tiff in barking ]

[Pounding on door]

[ Doorbell ringing ]

It's Carter.

What's he going to do to us?

Not us, me.

- What?
- I took the mission.

I'll take the consequences.
You wait upstairs.

[ Doorbell ringing,
pounding on door]

CARTER:
Tommy Beresford!

Tommy!

- Where have you been, Uncle?
- Don't “Uncle" me.

I've been looking for this leak.
Look where it's got me.

What did he say?

TOMMY: Who?

CARTER: Oh, don't be soft, Tommy.
Harrison.

TOMMY:
Gilbert's been kidnapped.

And he said there's a spy
in the house.

Did he mention a name?

I think he said "M."

UM"?

No, I don't know an "M.“

Not that I recall.
I mean, they do change

-the code names, but...
-[ Creak ]

Are you sure he said "M"?

[ Step creaking ]

It could have been "N.“

MN"?

Does "N" mean something?

Close that door.

Promise me you'll keep Tuppence out of
this.

I know she's been involved
so far.

For your ears only.

Yes, Uncle.

[ Muffled talking ]

So who is "N"?

A Soviet agent
who has eluded us for years.

There were a number
of British traitors

whose sympathies
were with the USSR.

They turned to Communism.

Are you familiar
with the fifth column, Tommy?

- I've heard the phrase.
- CARTER: The enemy within.

"N“ has contacts
in the British government,

definitely in the military,

and very possibly
in my own department.

One of them tipped "N" off
about Gilbert's project.

That means the Russians
have Gilbert?

What is the project?

It's a bomb, a new bomb,
a prototype.

[Tapping on window]

MAN:
Morning Mr. B.

[Squeaking ]

All your windows, same as usual?

CARTER:
Oh, for goodness' sake, Tommy.

[Tiff in barking ]

[ Door closes ]

What are they going to do
with the bomb?

CARTER: I suspect they're after
the technology,

which means their priority

will be getting it
out of the country.

...hired Gilbert in secret.

It's all very hush-hush.

We're missing the cricket.

The Home Secretary asked me
to send someone I could trust.

We knew there was a leak,

so the smaller the operation,
the better.

TOMMY:
You sent Harrison.

-[ Indistinct talking on radio]
- That's right.

To the guesthouse in Norfolk where
Gilbert had been staying.

See what he could find out.

"The spy in the house is 'N."'

But if they have Gilbert and the bomb,
why are they still there?

Someone, something of value remains in
that hotel.

The Sans Souci Hotel, Cromer.

CARTER:
The delicate nature of the job

has meant getting background information
on the other guests.

It's rather slow.

You'll have to meet up
with Albert tomorrow.

He'll brief you on the train.

But what do you want me to do?

I want you to find "N,“
of course.

Find find Gilbert,
find the bomb.

Not a word to Tuppence, remember.

- TOMMY: Yes, Uncle.
-[ Door closes ]

TUPPENCE:
What did he say?

He said thank you.

Thank you?

For all our help
in finding Harrison.

I told him what we knew.

He said thank you,
and. . .that was that.

Wasn't he angry
that Harrison got killed?

It's all part of the game,
I suppose.

So that was it?

TOMMY:
It's not all bad news.

Do you remember that
wig convention in Scotland

I was telling you about?

Well, a place has come up.

Train leaves tomorrow at 9:00, actually.

- Did you marry an idiot?
- I'm sorry?

"Do you, Thomas Beresford,
take this gullible idiot?"

- Is that what the vicar said?
- I don't know what you mean.

Carter's given you
a new mission.

Absolutely not.

Swear it.

L...swear.

Thomas Beresford.

Be reasonable, Tuppence.

It's only for a week...

...Ol' SO.

[ Door closes ]

You'll need to keep warm
up there.

Scotland can be very chilly.

I really wish you could
come with me, Tuppence.

I worry a wig convention
is no place for a lady.

Absolutely.

I completely understand.
I'd be bored stiff.

- You really would be.
- I know.

I can't imagine anything worse.

In fact, I've been thinking
of getting away myself.

Oh?
Have you?

Just to see Aunt Julie.

She's been hinting for help

with her Christmas chutneys since July.

You can't stand chutney.

But I love Aunt Julie.

- No, you don't.
- Anyway, excuse me.

If I set off now,
I can get there before dark.

Oh.

You can bring me
some shortbread.

TOMMY:
What? Why?

Scotland, Tommy.

Famous for it.

TOMMY: Well, uh...
I won't forget the shortbread.

Don't miss your train, Tommy.

[ Door closes ]

[Train whistle blows]

[Whistle blows]

[Train whistle blowing ]

ALFRED:
Once more for good measure.

Sheila Perenna, proprietress
of the Sans Souci, Irish.

- What part?
- Connemara.

Next.

Carl Denim, son of a publican,

who lived here for a few years,

at the San Souci
just a couple of months.

- Next.
- Major Khan.

Fought in the liberation
of Italy.

- Medals?
- Victoria Cross.

No, Military Cross.

Come on, Tommy. You can't afford
to make a false move.

You saw what happened
to Harrison.

"N“ could be a war hero,
an office clerk, or a nun.

Trust no one.

But get everyone to trust you.

TOMMY:
Sans Souci, please, driver.

ALBERT: Next.

Mrs. Sprot.

Married but traveling alone.

Likes walks on the beach.

Wears Miss Dior
by Christian Dior.

ALBERT: You remembered her
pretty easily.

TOMMY: You don't forget
a name like Sprot.

ALBERT:
Quite. Next.

Mr. and Mrs. Minton.
Psychologists.

Sounds like mumbo jumbo to me.

But I had read
"The Ego and the ld."

ALBERT:
Finally?

TOMMY: Veronika Urbanowicz,
Polish maid.

Which leads us right onto
your cover.

George Meadows, bachelor,
bookworm, bird watcher.

ALBERT:
What's your avian specialty?

- Warblers.
- Excellent.

George Meadows.
Bird watcher.

Here to spot some birds.

ALBERT: Just remember, Tommy, any of
these could be "N" --

Carl Denim, Major Khan,
Sheila Perenna,

the Mintons, Mrs. Sprot, Urbanowicz, any
of them.

Be charming but anonymous.

-[ Doorbell rings]
- Friendly but forgettable.

Good luck out there, Tommy.

We're full.

George Meadows.
I booked.

Right.

Well, act like it, then,
and go in.

Did your mother never teach you to wipe
your feet?

Breakfast is 7:00 to 8:00
and not a minute after.

Dinner's at 6:00.
Lunch you fend for yourself.

I take it you're here
for the Veterans ball?

Uh, yes.
Yes, of course.

Taxis are booked.
Don't be late.

Is that a West Coast accent
I detect?

Connemara, perhaps?

Oh, God, don't talk to me
about that place.

Nothing but sheep and rocks.

Your room is just at the top
of the stairs.

You must attract a better class of
guests at a house like this.

You're not writing a review,
are you?

No, no.
I just --

Good.

Oh.

Oh, I'm terribly sorry.
Wrong room.

MRS. MINTON:
Can I help you?

I'm George Meadows.

Pleased to meet you.

I'm Mr. Minton.
This is my wife.

"Even a happy life cannot be without a
measure of darkness."

For anyone who seeks meaning in today's
world, Jung is a must.

I'm more of a Freud man myself.

Have you read any?

One chooses their teacher
and remains faithful.

TOMMY:
Are you in the business?

We're psychologists.
Yes.

I can tell by your stance
you're a military man.

Well, I --
I did my bit in the last show.

You saw a lot in that time.

I can tell by your grip.

If you'd excuse me,
I should find my room.

VERONIKA:
Of course, Mrs. Blenkensop.

It won't happen again.

Thank you for pointing it out, Mrs.
Blenkensop.

-[ Clears throat]
- Mr. Meadows, I presume?

- Tuppence.
- It is Meadows, isn't it?

Oh, yes, that's right.
And you must be?

- Mrs. Blenkensop.
- Oh.

- Would you care for some tea?
- Thank you.

How did you know where to come?

Walls have ears, Tommy.
Don't you remember?

So poor Aunt Julie
is making chutney

on her own again this year.

Let me guess. The wig convention
finished early?

[ Door opens]

TOMMY:
Is there a Mr. Blenkensop?

Horrible slow death by disease.

Mrs. Meadows?

Bachelor.

-[ Clock chiming ]
- How original.

[ Door opens]

Any thoughts on "N" yet?

They're all coming down for tea in a
minute.

Do your own detective work.

Mrs. Blenkensop, don't tell me you've
replaced me already?

[Chuckling ]
Mr. Denim, you do tease.

I'm old enough
to be your big sister.

[ Laughs]

This is Mr. Meadows.

You'll get along famously.
He's a bachelor, too.

Hunter?

Bird watcher.

I thought I heard
an unfamiliar male voice.

Hello.

- Hello.
-[ Both chuckle]

I do hope we won't be unfamiliar for
long.

CARL: Ah, Haydock, Major Khan,
hope you're feeling flush.

I'd say we have
a good number here

for a game of five-card stud.

Gambling's a vice.

- One of my top three.
- Oh. [Chuckles]

HAYDOCK:
Five-card stud? Perfect.

I could do
with a change of luck.

How about you, Khan?

Haydock.

- Commander Haydock.
- Ah, George Meadows.

Pleasure.

Do you fancy a game?

Oh, no, no.
I'm not a card man myself.

Oh, come on, Mr. Meadows.

MRS. SPROT:
Sit next to me, Mr. Meadows.

I won't bite.

[Cards shuffling ]

[ Birds squawking ]

[Clock chiming]

KHAN:
Any time today is good, Haydock.

So, Commander, are you a guest here at
the Sans Souci?

No.
I live up at Prussia Cove.

Is that a nice spot?

Fold.

- He's just here for the company.
- Oh.

KHAN:
Mrs. Sprot?

Your bid, Mrs. Sprot.

So, Major, where did you serve?

I know you're new to this, Meadows,

but we don't normally chin-wag during
poker

Oh. I'm sorry.
I understand.

KHAN:
Mrs. Sprot?

Fold.

Mr. Denim?

I just got lucky.

HAYDOCK: Wait.

What about Meadows?

I can never remember.
Are aces highest or lowest?

Aces are highest.

Only an idiot
wouldn't know that.

[Chuckling ]

Or a liar.

TOMMY:
I'm not a liar.

Just...lucky.

Very lucky.

What exactly is your business here, Mr.
Meadows?

- I'm a bird watcher.
- HAYDOCK: Really?

What's your specialty?

Pallas's warblers.

Pallas's warblers?

In England?

At this time of year?

This is their autumn
migration path.

And that picture there
is actually a very fine example

of a pair of Pallas's warblers.

Arctic warblers, actually.

Family heirloom.
Worth quite a lot, that.

A child could spot
the difference.

I'm not sure it --

impressionistic, though,
isn't it?

CARL: I don't know about that,
Mrs. Blenkensop.

I think we've just been hustled.

What, by this gentleman?

Yes. While you were busy
making notes for your novel.

- Novelist?
- Crime fiction.

Ah. But of course.

An urgent letter just arrived for you,
Major Khan.

KHAN:
Ah, thank you.

Excuse me.

Aren't you going to
finish your tea?

Yes, thank you.

I used to do a spot
of bird-watching myself.

Let's go tomorrow, hmm?

- Yes, great.
- Hm.

A USSR postmark.

Do you think he's "N"?

TUPPENCE:
He's clearly in the lead.

Hold on.
Let's think about this.

We need to keep an open mind.

Well, who are you suggesting?

Carl Denim for one.

- I like him.
- I could tell.

And Mrs. Sprot?

- What about her?
-[ Scoffs ]

Tuppence, this is serious.

N's got hold of an atomic bomb, for
goodness' sake.

I am well aware of that, Tommy.

The major is clearly
the most suspicious.

All right.
Well, how do we play this?

I need to go into his room.

I've got to see
inside that envelope.

Well, what if he finds you
in there?

I'll use the oldest trick
in the book.

Seduction?

I didn't have you down
as a snooper.

No, no. I was -- I was just looking for
Miss Perenna.

She's downstairs.

- Ah, good.
- I think.

Or maybe she popped out to
get her hair done for tonight.

- Oh, that's a good idea.
- Yes.

It's the Veterans ball,
isn't it?

Are you going?

I wouldn't miss it
for the world.

But I'll have no one
to dance with.

[ Chuckles nervously]

Do I make you nervous,
Mr. Meadows?

No, no, no, no, no, no.
I just --

I'll just get some tea for us.

I could do with
some refreshment.

[Cup rattles, liquid pouring]

MRS. SPROT:
Beresford's Barnets.

Who's Beresford's Barnets?

"Suppliers of the finest quality
pastiche."

Why didn't they just say wigs?

Well, it's more discreet, classier.

To attract a better sort
of customer.

Why do you have it?

I use their services.

Well, they must be
doing something right.

I wouldn't have noticed a thing.

They are the best
in the business.

Oh, do you mind if I keep it?

I might feel like
changing my look.

What brings you
to the East Coast, Mrs. Sprot?

Relocation.

Had a change in circumstance.

I'm looking for a new beginning.

Well, it's a beautiful spot.

A beautiful spot
for the beautiful Mrs. Sprot.

[Chuckles] Yes, I'm finding it
quite charming so far.

Is that the time?

I should be getting ready
for the ball.

Yes.

You and me both.

[ Door creaks]

I think you had better
come out of there.

Who are you?

Mrs. Blenkensop.

Try again.

I am Mrs. Blenkensop.

So, why are you in my room,
Mrs. Blenkensop?

I wanted to talk to you
in private.

About what?

Mr. Meadows.

I believe he's a card cheat.

How sweet of you
to look out for me.

The question is...

...are you willing to die
for that lie?

Because if you don't
tell me the truth...

[Gun cocks]

...I'm going to be forced

to blow out
your pretty little brains.