All language subtitles for The Hour s02e04.eng

I'm trying to find out about the man
you work for. Mr Cilenti's influence should not be underestimated.

This time next year every one of
those countries will be committed to nuclear armament.

The repercussions will be felt by
all our children. That is an exhilarating team...

of which you own 50%.

With eyes on the other half.

Have you ever looked for her?
I'm going now.

Because I have.
I don't have her birth certificate.

I believe that journalists who
share their contacts are ultimately rewarded.

I think I'd like to call in
my reward now.

A word of advice to you
and your friends at The Hour.

Drink my champagne, eat my oysters,
but don't think for a moment you won't pay.

I think someone's been in my flat.
It's from Cilenti.

Your friend must be turning
a blind eye to the man's misdeeds.

Cilenti's got a leading
Police Commander in his pocket.

We all have our weaknesses,
Mr Madden.

Most of us manage to keep them
within the boundaries of the law.

And if that fails?
Could you contain yourself?

The Standard's already carrying it.

Christ.

"To ask an American if a nuclear
accord between the United States and Great Britain

"is a union of equals is to presume
that we are looking for an equal.

"Britain is the car park
and we are asking them

"to act as valets for our missiles.

"But make this clear - they neither
own nor get to drive the car."

What was Colonel Finch thinking?
He clearly wasn't.

He's made a fool of us
and an ass of himself.

Happy New Year, one and all.

Let's hope not.
We can't make good news without bad.

These were taken in Paris,
mid-December.

A lunchtime gathering alongside
the NATO conference.

Whilst the real work was being done
by the heads of state

in the other room.

These are the men in attendance
to grease the wheels.

So, Finch and NATO lead?

We'll see. Isaac see
if we can get Priestly on the show.

It's important we have
the anti-nuclear view.

Oh, do we really have to have
Priestley on?

I mean, what's Macmillan
supposed to do?

Better to have American-controlled
missiles than no missiles at all, surely.

Bet that's the way
the country thinks.

Balance, Mr Madden.
The age-old concept of.

Something to counteract the fact
that Colonel Finch and these men

taking us to the brink of a nuclear
war are all grinning like schoolboys.

So, the Pentagon wants to build
these bases

and have us pay for them?

At the cost of twenty million.

And I presume these are the men
who will benefit from it.

Put enough men of influence
around a conference table

and there'll always be those
looking for the crumbs. Vultures.

Well put, Sweetheart.
I presume Uncovered are also running with Finch.

It'll take a typhoon in Tipperary
to topple this.

You'll find me with our friends
in personnel this afternoon.

Those whose contract is up
and may be thinking of

asking for an increase in salary
should tread carefully.

This is the BBC, not the MoD.
Contracts cannot be ignored.

Subtitles by MemoryOnSmells
http://UKsubtitles.ru.

Did you read it?
I did. And?

Interesting. Very interesting,
but if you plan to break a story of police corruption on The Hour...

Hector's interview with Stern
prepared the ground. Lead with Finch this week by all means...

Thank you, I will, because this
isn't ready. This can't lead.

But you think it's a good story.

Without analysis. Without evidence.

We are journalists Mr Lyon,
not detectives.

An influx of foreign girls
who've found employment at El Paradis.

Norman Pike forcing statutory
tenants from their flats and replacing them with Cilenti's girls.

A police officer who, when he's not
assaulting prostitutes, is covering for those that employ them.

I think we're not doing badly.
It's clearly more than just a couple of corrupt plods.

It's organised crime, systematic,
organised crime, greased by a deep level of police collusion.

If you plan to expose ingrained
police corruption ignored by a complicit Commander,

then you may have the best story
of the year and it is only January.

But dig deeper. Go further.
Find new sources.

If you can't find new sources, find
new ways of talking to old ones.

But that will take time.

So take time. Until then,
NATO still leads the show.

Didn't I do enough last week?
Bloody Sunday Telegraph thought so.

"A bare-knuckle brawl"
was their assessment.

It was brilliant, Hector. Really.
I... I couldn't have done better myself. Thank you.

But you know there is more.

You had him against the ropes,
Hector but you didn't throw the final punch.

You can't ask us not to expose him.
It is going to happen.

I can't betray him.

He's a corrupt officer whose
handiwork almost cost you your career.

Give him the chance to whistle-blow.

And then what? We can't protect him.

His career is already blown.

Just call him.

I used to think that getting under
your skin was a form of sport, now I look on it as a moral duty.

Let me think, man!

What next?

Randall was right.
Old sources, new methods.

My turn. The only people who know
more about these men,

are the women
they are involved with.

Moneypenny...
She's our only source.

I have that
translation for Miss Storm.

Oh, er, well, you might find her
in her office.

We need the money.

Of course. It's fine.

I'll, er, I'll go and check
on Mr Wengrow's homework.

Oh, thank you, darling.
You are a marvel.

A bientot.
Goodbye.

I'm going. I'm going. Freddie
doesn't like me in the office.

I never said that.
You didn't have to.

Mr Wengrow.

The paperwork for El Paradis.
Every six months,

Mr Cilenti has to apply
for a fresh license.

He's blatantly contravening
the licensing hours

and yet the police never make
any objections.

Inspections are always carried
out by an "S Attwood." I assume...

Never assume.

He's the same detective Attwood
that signed a report that stated

there was insufficient evidence to
prosecute Mr Pike for assault a few weeks back.

Or rather, co-signed with
an "L Stern."

Isaac, I presume, when you go home
tonight, your mother will be waiting. Yes.

I'd like you to thank her for me,

for having the foresight
to deliver a son.

Hello?

Er, Miss Ramirez? It's Miss
Rowley from The Hour.

'I was wondering
if I might speak with you again.'

Don't call me here.
How did you get this number?

Through... through a contact.

She's fine. Miss Delaine.
She's fine.

'Until the next time.'

You didn't just come because you
were worried about Miss Delaine.

I suspect you also came because you
were worried for yourself.

Please, just... just half an hour,
nothing more. Somewhere neutral.

'No-one need ever know
that we spoke.'

I don't know what you want from me.

'We want to expose Cilenti
but we need information.'

You have more power than you
think.

There's a museum.
The Petrie Museum.

Take the 19 to Knightsbridge

'and it's three stops thereafter.
Shall we say one o'clock?'

I'm late.
Well, I'll drive you.

No, thanks.

I never know where I am with you,
Rosa.

What?

Jeanie's free.

How did it go?

She hung up on me.

She'll be there. How do you know?
I just do.

I'll be off shortly.

Right. Do you really feel the need
to inform me of that?

I almost telephoned you.

Really?

I saw a musical.

A musical. Why not?

I was in the West End
and I do sometimes, I thought...

I hate musicals.

Yes, that's what I thought.

It might have been interesting,
though, to...

I wish that you had.

What?
You. This. This hovering.

They've found her.

What?

My contacts.
They think they've found her.

Right.

They'll send me their paperwork,
etc.

Right.

Lix... I couldn't.

I...

I thought that it was the...

There was this family, about an hour
outside of Paris.

They were...

very...

He took her.

It wasn't official.

I just...

They just looked
so right with her.

And, er, at that time, when war broke
out, I was outside Amiens.

I went back and...

a neighbour told me that they'd,
er, taken her somewhere safe.

I... Well...

I... I told myself that she was safe.

And I haven't heard from them since.

No address, just...

just gone.

So, you'll, er, you'll let me know.

Yes, as soon as the...

It's important that you and I,
we... Yeah.

Rather than... push it to
the back of the drawer.

As can happen.

You've smoked that awful short.

Shit.

Shit, shit.

Can you put me through to Commander
Stern, please? Grosvenor 2352.

Yes?

'Hello?'
I don't know why I'm calling you.

In fact, I'd rather do anything than
have this conversation.

'But old habits die hard.'

Hector, erm...
'I wouldn't do to my worst enemy what you did to that girl.'

But every vice has its excuse ready.
My father always said that.

So I'd like to believe that it was
a moment of madness.

And I want to believe that
you are truly sorry

'for what happened.'
Hector, I...

'But then I remember the past.'

And I find these memories,
these snatches coming to me...

'more and more.'

The war was a long time ago.
'Some things you just don't forget.'

Miss Rowley and Mr Lyon
are brilliant journalists and they smell a good story.

Mr Attwood's name has been mentioned
in connection with yours.

And in connection with the club.

Lieutenant?

Well, say something, man,
for Christ's sake!

They are still pursuing Mr Cilenti?
'Yes.'

You're talking about a man
who will ruin both of us.

Your entire team if he has to.
You will all be compromised.

'The man is relentless.'
Well, then find a way to stop him.

'I presume you're joking. You can't
honestly think that I haven't thought of that before.'

Well, then talk to us. It's the only
way to keep you clear of the story.

It'd be professional suicide.
Don't be ridiculous.

'You'll have to throw us something,
Lieutenant.' And if I don't?

They'll expose you anyway.
'What, further humiliation live on air?'

I saved your fucking life, Hector,
now you save mine!

That man.

I've seen him
at the club with Miss Delaine.

We need a list of everyone who
was at this nuclear summit.

Does he work for NATO?

That would certainly raise
the calibre of the men on Cilenti's payroll.

Ask Rosa Maria.

Does she know what any of her
clients do? How they might help Cilenti?

I'll do my best.

Do you recognise him, Lix?

No. He's not a politician
or a head of state.

Are you sure?
Darling, I can recite the name of every minister,

Prime Minister
and President in my sleep.

Going down?

Actually, I was hoping to take
you out for lunch.

I can't.
I want to kiss you.

Oh? I wouldn't.

Bob in accounts gets awfully
jealous. Mr Lyon.

Good Christmas?
Yes. We rang in the New Year.

I'd better get going. I'm meeting
my one-time best man.

Now working for Auntie
on the Sports desk. Dinner?

Bring wine.

Love to.

You're not invited.

Very good.
Are you going to Sports?

What?
I thought you were going to Sports.

Yes.

White. She prefers white.

Oh, Mr Kendall.
Just passing.

Huh! I don't believe you.
You know my contract's up.

I'm just the carrier pigeon,

but you must know
we will match any raise they offer.

Right.

And we can certainly get you
a bigger office than this.

Where do you have all your meetings?

In Bel's... Miss Rowley's office.

How does one spread out
work in here?

With difficulty.

Bear it in mind. I will.

To be frank, expectations are low,
they are notoriously tight

and probably won't offer me
anything better.

We'll keep your seat warm.
Maybe get a meeting with the team in the calendar?

Talk to Miss Cooper.
She keeps my diary.

Mr McCain on line one. He was
wondering if you might be free for a drink.

Was he? I'll be off. Miss Cooper?
Expect a call from me.

Divine. Hector, sweetie,
have you had a chance to look over the Priestley for tomorrow? Er, no.

Well I'd appreciate it, if you would.
Look, just leave them on my desk.

They're already on your desk.

Darling, you've got the weight of
the world on your shoulders today. Whatever's the matter?

Just not sleeping very well.

Are you in trouble?

Yes. A debt of sorts.

A man in debt is a slave.

Oh, Hector darling, I often think
the only thing holding you together is that bloody coat.

I'm fine.

Good. Then buck up and let's see
that fire in your belly.

What fire?

The one I saw in your interview
with Commander Stern.

Er, tell McCain, eight o'clock.
Wherever he wants.

Yes, Mr Madden.

How long have you
worked at El Paradis? Two years.

And did you know
Miss Delaine before? No.

The men who come into the club.

Do you recognise any of them
there? Successful, powerful men.

Do you, do you ever get their names?
If Cilenti tells us to.

If he wants us to talk to them,

if he wants us to get them
to drink more, talk more.

If he wants us
to get them in a photo.

And... and why would he want that?

All men are the same
when you unbutton their trousers.

We're just the honey
before the sting.

He blackmails them?

You wouldn't have come to see me
if you didn't want my help.

For whatever reason, you...
You pushed us in the direction of those photographs. Why?

No successful man wants to be
photographed with a whore.

But it's a glamorous club.
You're a beautiful girl.

Those photographs are in the press
every day of the week.

We are whores
when Mr Cilenti needs us to be.

So that's how he blackmails them.
What happens next?

Whatever he wants. Passports
for foreign girls. Needs a license.

Needs to cover something up.
Policemen, politicians, stars.

All the same.

If they don't pay up,
they get a little envelope.

Then another one.

He's here.

Get me something.

Get me evidence of blackmail
and I will get the story out.

We can help you. No, you can't.

Anything to prove Cilenti's
doing this

and I will run it on The Hour.
He won't harm you.

He will be gone, I promise you.
Goodbye, Miss Rowley.

Mr Madden?

They're ready for you now.

Mr Madden. Mr Chapman.

We could have shared a taxi.
I prefer to walk.

Nothing like an annual review
to kick-start the year, Mr Madden.

Indeed. Get behind the man
in front of the camera.

Please.

Can't pretend.

We're really rather pleased with
the progress of The Hour, Mr Madden,

after last year's difficulties.

Mr Brown has been telling us
what an exemplary front man

you have been for your team.

Your interview with the
Police Commander being a high-point.

Is that so?

I understand
you're being courted by ITV.

I would expect nothing less,

but one must protect
one's investment.

We wish today to reiterate

what an important asset to
the corporation you are, Mr Madden.

A fact affirmed by Mr Brown,
but obvious for all to see.

Mr Madden is not simply
the front man of The Hour...

he's the essence.

A former serviceman,
his is the reliable voice that,

in these dark and difficult times,
the public can respect.

In you they trust.

While, of course,
we cannot be held to ransom,

we hope to make you an offer

that you consider commensurate
with your talents.

And in the spirit of whatever
the other side is offering...

that way, your decision
can be purely... Ethical.

Quite. Further to which,
we should at some stage

discuss which other programmes
might benefit

from having you at the helm,
Mr Madden.

I don't know what to say.
"Thank you" would be a start.

Mr Lyon? I've got that list
from the Summit lunch.

Three Brits -
if we disregard McCain... Always.

And the rest, who are a pretty even
smattering of politicians

and corporate names
from the NATO member states.

But still no name for him.

Your eye's twitching.
Is it? You working late?

Oh, yes. Difficult last act.

With a play, do they pay you
by the word or by the line? Um...

They don't pay you at all?

No, they've paid me.
They're putting it on the radio.

Isaac, that's brilliant,
bloody well done.

I'd rather no fuss.
I hope you're not leaving.

Check the Palais.

Lix says that's where they
all stayed. Cross reference.

Bel?

She won't know we're here.
Breathe. Shit. Breathe. Shit.

What did she say?

They're blackmailing Stern.

Any man of influence -
barrister, doctor, actor, minister...

foolish enough to pass through
the doors of El Paradis

is hurriedly introduced
to one of Cilenti's sirens.

All Miss Delaine
and Miss Ramirez have to do

is to take them home and stand by
their front door and kiss them

and there is somebody there to take
their photograph, from a distance.

A honey-trap.

Cilenti, conceivably,

could have information
on half the men in London.

So what does Cilenti want
from the man at the NATO summit?

Miss Delaine was all over him
at the club.

Oh, Christ, what have I done?

What have I done?

It's brilliant.

It's just paper.

He followed us. So we've rattled him.

What is it?
It's a threat from Cilenti.

We have to tell the story this week.

We have to tell it now.

In Borneo, when a man wants to
warn his enemy he's coming for him,

he binds the dried entrails
of his dead elders to a clay pot

and leaves it at the door.

Keep going.

Even though he's threatening
a member of our team?

To him who is in fear,
everything rustles.

Anything else? No. Not yet.

I've got that name. Francis Tufnell.
He owns an engineering company.

Made his money in scrap metal,
post war.

We've been cross-referencing names

trying to identify
everyone at the NATO summit.

Because?
This man. At the summit lunch.

I've seen him at El Paradis.
With Miss Delaine.

We think Mr Cilenti
may be deliberately encouraging

compromising situations in order to
blackmail men like Commander Stern.

And others. An industry magnate?

Possibly. Strictly,
Mr Wengrow is on the home desk,

but one suspects
the reach of this particular story goes beyond our remit. Yes.

The question one should be asking

is what is an industry magnate
doing among diplomats?

Was there really nowhere better
we could meet?

Dear, dear, Hector.
I know you don't bear a grudge.

What is El Paradis without you, hmm?

For goodness' sake,
take off that coat.

You look as if you're
waiting to be evacuated.

Whisky, no ice. No, thank you.
My friend will have the same.

Pretty girl.

Why do you do it, Angus?

You don't find that young woman
remotely attractive.

Actually, I've just met
an absolutely lovely girl. Vera.

A distant cousin.
We've been to the theatre, twice.

Look, I've not come to fight.

You put on an absolutely marvellous
display of your prowess

at that Orphanage Trust
party thingamajig.

Let us not repeat that.

I have a story for you.

Too late, we're on air tomorrow.
We've got our story.

Finch, the missiles? Obviously?
No point in denying it.

No, no, I can see the appeal.
Thank you.

Mm.

Might have something else for you.
Something a little stronger.

Been some slight trouble
at the Treasury.

Treasury? Mm-hm.

Well, I won't bore you
with the details,

suffice to say, the entire Cabinet
are looking to spend money,

not least in defence, and the
Chancellor is adamant they can't.

So? Sack Thorneycroft.

If you sack the Chancellor, you risk
exposing the fact that he's right.

Thorneycroft and his colleagues,
Powell and Birch,

are on the brink of resignation.

It's a case of
"cut spending or else".

The cabinet are in session
as we speak.

You think you're in trouble, Hector?

Poor old Harold
has never had it so bad.

Why bring this to us?

What has happened to Downing Street
in the last few days

could well bring down
the government.

That's not what I asked.

Well, it makes for
better copy than Finch.

I'm giving you first dibs, Hector.

Just get your chaps
down to Westminster tomorrow

and watch it unfold. It won't work.
He hasn't resigned yet.

Well, he will have done
by the time you've gone on air.

Yeah, leaving us with what?
No time to react.

Even with the tip
we'll be no further ahead than any other news outfit.

And I can't pitch a discussion on
rumoured resignation. It's hearsay.

Miss Rowley won't buy it.
Nor will Brown.

Well then,
I'll give you the whole scoop, hmm?

Thorneycroft is itching to talk.

Well, he will be.

You bring your camera,
I'll bring the Chancellor,

we meet at Westminster.

The interview is yours. Exclusively?

I may not be Evelyn Waugh, Hector,

but I do know
the meaning of the word "scoop".

Same again? Same again.
No, no, I'm not staying.

Think about it, Hector.

If I don't hear from you,
Uncovered are the next in line.

Good evening, Mr Madden.

Actually, maybe I will
stay for another drink.

Yes? It's me.

'Hello, me.'

What are you doing?
I'm... I'm working.

'24 hours till we go out.'

Are you quite all right?

'Yes, I'm fine.'

You don't sound it. You sound tense.

Erm...

It's... It's just been
one of those days.

'Tell me.'

No, I don't do that.

Oh, well. That's a shame.

Because I've been commended
for my listening.

No. Sorry. Erm... you'll just
have to get used to tense.

'What time tonight?'

Erm... nine?

'You still there?'

Jane's away for the night.
With her grandmother.

Right.

'And now your silence
is making me even tenser.'

I'll see you later.

Yep.

Turn it off.

And disappoint your guests,
Mr Cilenti?

They're not my guests. Get them out.

Sorry, gentlemen. Ah... what?

Right, how do we get this story
to lead tomorrow?

This was taken a few weeks ago.

It's Mr Tufnell again.

And here's a list of Mr Tufnell's
professional activities

through the years.
They seem pretty legitimate.

He's clearly made
a considerable amount of money.

But the trail goes blank
during the war.

No military record,
so I asked Mr Wengrow

to find out what he was doing
from '39 to '45.

The only name I could find
was a Francesco Tufo

who was interned in a POW camp
on the Isle of Man.

The same Francesco Tufo who started
a small company here in '46,

specialising in springs
for pens, cars, etc.

Mrs Lyon again.
Take another message, please.

She wants you to pick up
some food for this evening.

Ron's. All I could find.
Some sort of schnapps.

Oh, thank you. Well, er...
beggars can't be choosers.

A year later, that firm was sold
and a second one was started

by a man now known as Francis
Tufnell. He changed his name.

Presumably to grease his path.

But the really interesting thing

is the name of one
of his co-compatriots

in the Prisoner of War camp...

Mr Raphael Cilenti.

Might want your spectacles.

There.

And guess who is on Mr Tufnell's
board of directors?

Raphael Cilenti.

And the name of the company in line
to secure a million pound contract

on the bases post the NATO summit?

Tufnell Engineering.

The same military bases which will
house the American missiles.

Kiki isn't a honey trap
for Mr Tufnell...

she's a New Year's bonus.

Or a gift
from one friend to another.

This blows Finch and the NATO summit
out of the water.

Excuse me.

Excuse me.

All is well, Miss Delaine?

Thank you, Mr Cilenti.
Mr Tufnell.

I hope you're being very nice
to my friend this evening. Always.

Good girl. Whatever he wants?

Yes, Mr Cilenti.

No concern of yours, Miss Delaine.

All is happy tonight.

Mr Madden. May I offer you a table?

No, thank you, Mr Cilenti,
the view's just fine here.

Excuse me, could I have a word?
Of course.

Miss Delaine?
I'll call the management.

I'm not here to harangue you.

I'm not asking you to explain
why you did what you did.

I'm warning you...

whatever Commander Stern did to you
before, he will do it again.

You're... You're too young to
understand what war does to men.

It shatters you, it exposes
the worst part of you

and makes you want to destroy
even the most beautiful things.

I don't understand.

I wish you could.

Go away.

Go away!

Got any more of that?

Cilenti's got me sitting
at the top table again tonight.

You're stupid.

We're not exclusive.

Your Commander know that?

I'm in trouble.

Rosa!

Go back to your gentleman.
Don't let them see you with me.

Please!

Get out while you can,
Kiki, promise me.

You can get free from all of this.

So can you.

Wish me luck.

Your lady...

She's been talking?

No, that don't mean nothing.
Rosa just likes a gab.

You can't help yourself
when you hear her sing.

She'll never be Miss Delaine.

You won't get a better dancer.

Dancers are easy to find.

Take care of it.

You're too much.
You really are too much.

Laurie was just reminding me
of that terribly funny dinner

we had at the Plaza Cafe,
Coronation Day. Do you remember?

Drinking ourselves silly

and toasting the new Queen
to the early hours.

What are you doing here?

I was passing.

Marnie, could you leave us alone,
please?

I'm sorry, Laurie.
I'm terribly sorry. Hector?

Please do as I say.

Don't ever come
to my house uninvited.

Hector... I blotted it from my mind
cos it was wartime.

Trieste, stuck in that warehouse
for God knows how long.

Finally we had a night off
in that... god-awful village.

One girl to service all of us.
You went first.

Remember? Yes, well, I'm not going
to have this conversation.

So I'm shown into
this squalid back room and there cowering on the bed...

She'd been beaten black and blue.

When I sat next to you
on the way back, never said a word.

I'll never forget
what you did for me.

And I'd hoped one day
to repay the favour but...

I can't.

And I can't stop The Hour

from exposing the corruption
in your force. Christ!

It's out of my control.

It'll ruin me.

Now, you owe me.

You have to do something!

I can buy you a week,
but you stay away.

From here and, if you've any sense,
from that young woman.

I can't!

Then you're a fool.

You're not the only one in her life.

Tell me you understand that.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

You haven't done anything yet.

I know, I know, I know...

It's all right.
Michael bought supper.

Come.

We have another pair of hands.

You can lick while I fold.

Can it wait till morning?
I have to go to bed.

Michael, Anne, Phillip?
My husband, Freddie.

Ah, the man who tells the world
what's happening, eh?

I try.

Michael's heard Priestley speak.

He's been asked to work on the
Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament.

That's marvellous.
Pie and chips for two.

Excuse me.

Rude.

My house. OUR house.

You know, there's a reason

people write music down
before they play it.

It sounds better that way.

You're so patronising.
Me patronising?

You've got Karl Marx,
Groucho Marx and Gertrude Stein

conspiring revolution
in my front room.

Well, at least they are doing
something. Trying to do something.

I just need to sleep.

Freddie, don't you care?

Do you know this craziness
going on in the world?

Missiles creating more missiles,

ours to be pointed at the Soviets,
theirs to be pointed back at us!

On and on it will go, Freddie.
Every day, horrible, horrible news.

What do you think I do all day

but try to make sense
of those horrible stories?

Well, this is how we do it!
This is how to effect change.

Same as you telling your story,
except we don't have to wear a suit.

This suit pays the bills.

Is this our life, Freddie?

Why do you think
I work every night, late?

Trying to deliver the most
truthful perspective I can.

Because it's easier than to be here.

With me.

Because then you can be with her.

With Bel.

Say it's not true.

It's not true.

Liar.

The poor man had to get his wife to
retype every letter after I'd gone.

In the end, he said,

"Well, if you can't type, maybe you'd
be better at finding the story."

And you were.

My first story
was a fire in the East End.

A faulty boiler.

It killed two families,
and orphaned a twelve-year-old boy.

I door-stepped the landlord
until he admitted he was at fault.

It made page six.

All my girlfriends
were at dire dinner parties

trying to find the perfect husband.
They still despair of me, but...

how can I hide
what's really important,

what really can change the world?

It's the simple act
of telling someone's story.

But not forever?

No? Why can't I do it forever?

Ah, talking about something
you don't want to talk about.

That thing you don't do again.

We got Priestley.
On tomorrow's programme.

He just confirmed.

No. How?

But if it's about the news,
she will talk about it.

And so passionately
on her subject.

I'm just very persuasive.

When I set my heart on something...

You're still on edge.

Let's not be newsmen tonight.

Let's just be...

No, go back to sleep.

I didn't know you were
dropping by today.

You had a visitor?

Just a friend. Yeah. Whore.

Did you honestly think
I was only yours?

Do you honestly think it's enough,
sitting in waiting for YOU to visit?

The arrogance.

All of you thinking
you're the one.

Go on, then - hit me.

You want to do it so...

I love you.

I love you, too.

You stupid little girl.

You have no idea what you've done.

You don't even know
what you've done to me.

You can tell Mr Cilenti...

that I won't be
requiring you any more.

Hector?

There are things
I haven't told you about the war.

Things that we did.

Terrible things.

Laurie took over once,
when I couldn't...

When, as his commanding officer,
I...

I couldn't give orders.

He used a man as a shield,

a French man,
intent on giving us away.

He got us out.

Oh, Hector...

He got us out, Marnie.

Oh...

Are you ready?

Do you want me to...? Yes, please.

Her name is Sofia.

Oh. They kept her name.

Sofia Malfrand.

She probably doesn't even
speak English.

She's at the Conservatoire.

Studying music.

Music? Oh.

Sofia.

19.

Done?

Yes.

Good.

A list of high profile men,
most of them in government,

who have been entertained
at El Paradis

who clearly are using
their influence

to support Cilenti's life over here.

Your source at El Paradis?
I've been calling her all morning.

She's not picking up.
She's too frightened. And Priestley?

Decided to go on ITV. On Uncovered.

Thank you, Mr Wengrow.

I wasn't expecting to see him
getting gonged on Take Your Pick.

Mr Madden. Morning, Hector.

We don't need Priestley.
This is the story.

A criminal whose business empire
is allowed to exist

due to widespread
police corruption,

a fact for which
we now have evidence,

who maintains his power
by blackmailing people of influence,

and who also may be profiteering

from contracts related to
the imminent arrival of missiles.

His corruption goes nuclear.

Very good.
There is a time issue here.

Our contacts, our sources,

may have endangered themselves
by talking to us.

A young woman,
she gave us the story.

If we run it tonight,
if we go public,

it quashes the chance
of repercussions for her.

You're suggesting tonight? Yes.

Really?
I mean, it's a good story but...

But?

You might want to save it
for another week.

The Chancellor is going to resign.

It's not been announced yet,

but, er, McCain has
offered us the exclusive.

A 30-minute interview
with the Chancellor this evening,

live from Westminster.

So why is Mr McCain
giving this to The Hour?

He owes me.
Oh, you can't be serious.

That's an incredible lead, Hector.
It's deflection, is what it is. It couldn't be more obvious!

Can't you just be pleased?

Must you always be the one
to get the scoop, Freddie?

This is the scoop!

While you were drinking whisky
and jockeying for a pay rise,

we were working through the night
to get this story. And for what?

All McCain wants is to bury
the anti-nuclear story

and the Colonel's gaffe.
It's deflection.

That's his job, to bury bad news.

A 30-minute interview
plus analysis...

it doesn't give time
for anything else.

In terms of public interest,

you know this is the more
important story.

We can't ignore a scoop like this.

He's right. Mr Wengrow?
Talk to the outside broadcast unit.

See if they can get the Roving Eye.
I'll speak to McCain.

We asked this girl
to put her neck on the line!

If we weren't going to run the story,
we would never have done that.

We have to run it now.

It's a corruption story.
It'll wait a week.

Our priority has to be
to cover political developments such as these.

Lix?

It's the much bigger story, darling.

Mr Madden to speak
to the Chancellor,

Mr Lyon to link from the studio.

You're doing this to
cover your chum, Hector.

His news is ordered by government
and you bloody know it.

That government runs this country

and any changes to the cabinet
is of public interest.

Shame on you, Hector.

Er, Mr Brown,
I wanted to thank you...

Not necessary.
Not if you're going to stay.

Post? On my desk, please,
and call Miss Ramirez again.

Oh, Ron, back a bit with that,

we want to light Mr Lyon,
not interrogate him.

Hello.

It's beautiful. All the lights.

Are you looking for Freddie?
He's upstairs.

Do you mind?

No, not at all.

We're doing a live link
with Westminster.

Exciting?

I suppose so.

Will you give Freddie a message?

But you can give it to him yourself.

My train leaves soon.

Please just tell him
I'm going away for a couple of days.

With friends.

A holiday?

No. Not exactly.

How can one have a holiday
when we live like this?

People in this city,
they understand best

what's happening in the world...

the nuclear threat,
what it means for ordinary people.

Yet they do nothing about it.

Er, Camille...

Are you all right?

Yeah.

Look after him.

It's what he wants.

What you both want.

Um... that's not true.

Yes, it is. You just can't admit it.

20 minutes, Miss Rowley
wants everyone on the floor.

OK, just through here.

The Chancellor is just about
to release his press statement.

Ready for D-Day?

Well, as ready as I was
for the real thing, Angus.

Yeah. Then Mr Thorneycroft should
have little to fear, I imagine.

He will be ready for you presently.

Oh, erm, they're...
They're waiting for you downstairs.

We've just got to get on with it,
Freddie. No complaining.

Who's complaining?

Sorry.

Not even a dent.

Camille dropped by.

She said she was
going away for a few days.

Right.

I asked her to wait but, erm...

We keep fighting.

Right.

About you.

She says all I care about
is the story.

The story and...

you.

Miss Ramirez is just not answering.

McCain.

Oh, my...

Five minutes, ladies and gentlemen!
Five minutes, please!

Mr Brown.

What if we aren't covering
the Chancellor story

because McCain wants to sink the
gaffe? What if we're covering it

because somewhere Cilenti
is pulling McCain's strings?

What if we are about to go live

with the very story
Cilenti wants us to run?

Courtesy of our contact?

Oh, she hasn't answered.

Too late. Too damn late!

Mr Lyon?

Thanks, Isaac.

Hector. Chancellor, Mr Madden.
Mr Thorneycroft.

Stand by, everyone, we're going
live in 25 seconds and cue grams.

Mr Wengrow, tell Mr Madden
we're coming to him in 20 seconds.

Ten... nine...

eight... seven...

six...

'Good evening
and welcome to The Hour,

'the most important 60 minutes
of your week.

'Tonight we will be
taking you live to Westminster

'to bring you the news that in the
last few minutes the Chancellor...'

Tufnell's here.

I have looked into
Tufnell Engineering.

There is a buyer investing
heavily in their shares.

It's an offshore company
listed as Castlecore.

That's you. Christ!

Who are Castlecore?

Sign now, Mr Madden,

I knew it was coming.
Just hope he reads the small print.

It might be better if he didn't.

You women are all the same -
showgirls and whores.

Rein this in. Rein this in now.
You know what Freddie's like.

They will kill you.

You are charging towards a loaded gun

and you think you can miraculously
dodge the bullet. You can't.

This is a raid.

Where's Rosa?

Holiday. Liar.

Christ.

What have we done?

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