All language subtitles for MSW s03e04 One White Rose For Death.eng

[Woman]
Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

And you will do me the courtesy
of opening the bloody gate now, sir,

because if it is not open by the time
we arrive, my driver will smash it in.

I see. It's perfectly all right
to drag me all over town at gunpoint.

Risk my neck, dodging traffic,
being chased by German spies.

Good Lord!
[Gasping]

[Woman]
Mr. Kendall, he's dead. Murdered.

By who?
By one of us it is obvious.

And you are keeping me here
against my will.

- You are a suspect
in a murder investigation. - There's a killer loose.

Thinkin'of spendin'holiday there,
are you, boyo?

[Door Closes]

You'd have to be a mountain goat
to love that spot.

[Sighs]
The Carpathians, I'd say. Eastern Czechoslovakia.

What are we looking for?
Missile sites.

The photographs-
are they from our,

uh, East German friend
"The Musician"?

What's the source?
Still the Steiner woman?

How do you know that?

I'm taking your place, Jack.

Dennis McKelvie,
London Evening Sentinel, at your service.

[Both Laugh]

And I thought you'd retired.

A foolish and impulsive decision
I had the good sense to reassess.

So they're finally sending you
back to Africa then.

Central America.

Too many foreign agents
know this face of mine.

Mmm.

So, uh, can I trust you to
carry on this operation?

Ho ho ho.

[Airplane Landing]

Mrs. Fletcher!

Thank heavens.
I was afraid I'd missed you.

Dreadful places airports.
Andrew Wyckham, King's Lane Publisher's Limited.

How do you do, Mr. Wyckham?
I was looking for Geoffrey Phillips.

Poor fellow got called to
the West Coast late last evening.

Some silly crisis.
I'm afraid you're stuck with me.

But I'll try and
make your stay enjoyable.

Well, it won't be much of a stay,

but when Geoffrey told me about
my invitation to the party tonight,

I couldn't resist.
Party?

My dear lady, it is merely
the social event of the year.

Greta Mueller's farewell performance...

followed by a reception at the estate
of Senator Constable...

with none other than the prime minister
as the guest of honor.

Geoffrey is devastated,
I can assure you.

Well, I would be too.

But how I managed to
be invited to the party,

I'll never understand.
Greta Mueller, of course.

She is your devoted fan...

and absolutely determined not
to leave without meeting you.

Oh, I feel very flattered.

I've arranged for us
to travel in style. I hope you approve.

Well, that looks lovely.

Mrs. Jessica Fletcher?
Yes.

I'm Gerhardt Brunner,
Chief of Security for Miss Mueller's American concert tour.

Oh, how do you do?
This is Mr. Wyckham.

Mr. Wyckham.
How do you do?

Well, if you are the gentleman
responsible for our invitations for tonight's festivities,

I'm most grateful to you, Mr. Brunner.

It is Miss Mueller
whom you should thank.

In fact, if it isn't
too inconvenient for you,

she would very much like you
to come by the concert hall now.

- She is most anxious to meet you.
- Well, l-

And it will be a great
personal favor to me.

Of course.

Will you follow us then, please?
Certainly.

I say,

must be a formidable lady
to intimidate an officer in the East German Volkspolizei.

The Volks what?
Secret police.

I can see, dear lady, you have a lot
to learn about international affairs.

??[Classical]

[Speaking German]

Greta.
Franz, I cannot rehearse under these conditions.

[Brunner]
Fräulein Mueller. Oh, Mrs. Fletcher!

Mrs. Fletcher, what a delight
it makes to meet you at last.

Oh, the pleasure is mine,
Miss Mueller, I assure you.

- Fräulein Mueller, may I introduce
Mr. Andrew Wyckham. - How do you do?

A good part of my English
I have learned from reading every one of your books.

Oh!
Yes, every one.

And I am so much
in admiration for your talent.

But also for your independence
and power of character.

Well, I'm very flattered.
You must forgive my sister, Mrs. Fletcher.

She has a garbled gift
for hyperbole, but she's quite sincere.

- I hope this sudden request
has not inconvenienced you. - Of course not.

Good. When Greta wants
something, it is easier for us all to accede to her wishes.

- Oh, Franz, don't be such a sourpuss.
- I assume that rehearsal is over for this morning, sister.

If you will excuse me.

As you can see, my older brother
delights in treating me like a child.

Oh, yes, older brothers.
I had a couple of those when I was growing up.

[Wyckham]
Reminds me of the time some years ago,

I was visiting with
this tribal chief...

in one of those African countries
with a funny name. L- I don't know.

And a chap wanted to set up
libraries in all of his villages.

There was only one drawback.

None of his people
could read a bloody word.

[Polite Chuckling]

That's a very attentive watchdog
you have, Miss Mueller.

Uh, afraid you'll defect,
is that it?

Greta? Defect?

I'm afraid my sister is as political
as a chocolate bar.

On that point, Franz and I agree.

[McKelvie]
Miss Mueller?

Yes?
Dennis McKelvie.

The London Evening Sentinel.

Forgive the intrusion.
I wonder if you could grant me a short interview.

- Thank you, but l-
- Oh, yes, Mr. McKelvie,

I have heard a great deal of
your work from a mutual friend.

- My sister and I would be delighted
to chat with you. - Franz.

You are most gracious, sir.
Perhaps backstage this evening. Would that-

Well, well, well,
J.B. Fletcher.

What a delightful
and unexpected surprise.

- Dennis McKelvie, ma'am.
- Yes.

You are the last person
I expected to find here.

Yes, I can see that,
Mr. McKelvie. Yes.

Mr. McKelvie and I have met-
Uh, when was that?

Uh, London.
Two years ago, October.

I interviewed you.
Oh, yes, for the B.B.C.

The London Evening Sentinel.
Oh, yes. Uh, I remember.

How fortunate that you did.
[Clear Throat]

Will you be, uh,
staying in the city, ma'am?

At the Kensington.
Lovely.

- We'll have to get together then.
- Yes, we have so much to, uh, talk about.

[Knocking]
Who is it?

King George here ready to reclaim
the colonies from usurpers.

Who do you think it is,
woman? Michael. Or is it Dennis?

Dennis this week.
And I'll thank you to remember it.

I'm not yet ready to be interred
in the family plot.

Then it's a good thing that you opened
your mouth in that restaurant before I put my foot in it.

Yes, I could see you were about to
make a terrible fool out of one of us.

Oh, Jessica,
you're as lovely as ever.

And you're as devious as ever.
I'm afraid to even ask you what you're up to now.

Oh, ah, just a minor assignment
for the government.

- You're back with M.I.5?
- S.I.S. Same game, different name.

But that's enough chat
about work.

As I recall, madam,
we have a long-standing date...

which you have been
studiously avoiding.

But I haven't seen you
for over a year.

An oversight which we
shall rectify by spending the next several days together.

Oh, Michael, I can't.
There's this concert tonight.

Followed by the reception
at Senator Constable's,

at which I intend to monopolize
your attentions.

Unless of course you prefer,
um, what's-his-name.

- Oh, Mr. Wyckham.
- Wyckham.

He's business.
Good, good.

Tomorrow evening then,
we'll rekindle the embers over dinner...

at a lovely restaurant
I found in Alexandria.

After which, I trust,
we will both be on our worst behavior.

Franz, you have got to
talk to Colonel Brunner.

He's become impossible.
What is it, Greta?

I wanted to ask Mrs. Fletcher
to tour with me the Smithsonian Institution tomorrow,

and Brunner forbids it.
Forbids!

Oh, Franz, I am not a child.

Greta, we cannot always do
what we want in this world.

Colonel Brunner is responsible
for our well-being.

Oh, yes, and we mustn't criticize
Colonel Brunner, no matter how stupid he becomes.

What is the matter
with you, Franz?

You let that man lead you
about holding on your nose.

If you mean I am loyal, yes.

It's the British journalist.
I'll speak to him.

Oh, such a pouty face.
Come, Greta. Hmm, a little smile.

I'll speak to Brunner.

There might be a problem
with Ilsa Steiner.

She's dropped out of sight.
What?

Now easy, man, easy,
we're discussin' Chopin.

She hasn't been seen
since early this morning. She wouldn't betray me.

Maybe not.

[Phone Rings]

[Switch Clicking]

Kendall.

Repeat that please.

I see.

No. I'll contact him myself
immediately.

??[Classical]

??[Ends]

[Speaking German]

[Applause]

?? [Classical]

The girl was wonderful.
Simply marvelous.

Oh, Andrew, there's nothing
simple about what she does with a violin.

[Laughs]
No, I suppose not.

I wish I was more musical.
Ah, Mr. McKelvie.

Listen to me. Keep moving.
Head for the main door.

What?
I've called for your limousine.

- I'll be right behind you.
- But, uh-Ah, Mr. McKelvie.

Look here, old fellow,
we'd like to catch the second half.

There isn't going to be a second half,
Mr. Wyckham.

Now move!

[Groans]

Move!

Quickly, man! Let's go!

[Tires Screeching]

[Tires Screeching]

[Speaking German]

That is not our driver.
So I noticed.

What's the meaning of this?
And where is my driver?

Safe, Mr. Wyckham.

- Michael, your hand.
- Not now, Jessica.

Michael? Jessica?

Jack, find a cab queue where
we can drop these two off.

Not a good idea,
I'm afraid. What?

Head for the embassy.
Put it to the floor.

[Tires Screeching]

Sorry, but I'm afraid you two
are along for the ride.

[Buzzing]

First Secretary Henry Claymore.
May I help you?

This is Dennis McKelvie,
Code Name, Saint Patrick, Secret Intelligence Service.

We are traveling in a limousine,

five minutes away, being pursued
by armed agents of the East German Volkspolizei.

Open the west gate
and keep it open.

We won't have time to stop.
Uh, one moment, sir.

Firstly, I do not take orders
from the S.I.S.

- Secondly, no one is going to be admitted
without proper authorization. - You bloody fool!

I'm a British subject being chased
by a carload full of armed German agents.

We only have a skeleton staff
on duty here.

After that assassination attempt
in Australia last week,

most of our security is
elsewhere this evening protecting the prime minister.

I'm not suggesting a pitched battle,

I'm demanding sanctuary.

And you will do me the courtesy
of opening the bloody gate now, sir,

because if it is not open by the time
we arrive, my driver will smash it in.

Is that clear, Mr. Claymore?

Yes, very well.
I'll see to it.

You best have a doctor standing by.

Uh, seems a small hole in my arm
is, uh, making a mess of these seats.

Yes, that is correct,
Sergeant Major.

Henry, what is it?

Well, first I pull embassy duty
while everyone else is hobnobbing with the P.M.

Now it's the damned S.I.S.
Expecting me to pull their chestnuts out of the fire.

- Henry, whatever it is,
it will take care of itself. - And what are you doing out of bed?

- You're exhausted after
your trip, Margo. - I feel very rested, really.

- I'm afraid this hasn't been much
of a marriage so far, darling. - Never mind that.

You have some people arriving.
What can I do?

It's back to bed for you, my girl.
I'll handle it. Nonsense.

It's about time I started
learning my duties.

[Man]
Get those gates open!

[Tire Screeching]

- TakeJessica inside, Wyckham.
- I'm Dr. Lynch. I was told we have a wounded man here.

In a moment, Doctor.

Hurry.

Let's get inside.
What the devil's going on here, McKelvie?

Let's discuss it inside.

No, you will not inform the ambassador
that the Muellers are here,

not until I'm satisfied
that it's safe to do so. May I remind you-

Meanwhile, you can seal off
this wing of the embassy.

The fewer people who know
what's going on here, the safer it will be for our guests.

You will notify me, Mr. McKelvie,
when I may once again resume my duties as first secretary?

I will, sir. And thank you
for your indulgence.

Well, Mr. McKelvie,
you're a lucky man.

The bullet passed clear through.

[Grunts]
You see, Jessica, I'm almost indestructible.

Michael, now that you have scared
the life out of me. What is going on?

I'm sorry about the gun,
but if things fell apart,

you and Wyckham had to be able to say
that you were forced to cooperate.

In what? A defection?

Doctor, I hope that
ugly-looking thing is not meant for me.

It is. Unless, of course,
you prefer a nasty case of tetanus.

Well, if you must feel delight
in my discomfort, woman,

- do me the courtesy
of keepin' it to yourself. - Michael, I'm waiting.

Jessica, don't ask me questions.
I'm not free to answer.

I see. It's perfectly all right
to drag me all over town at gunpoint.

Risk my neck, dodging traffic,
being chased by German spies.

And I'm tellin' you.
The less you know about this, the better.

Now leave it be.

Ow!

[Kendall]
The Volpes followed us, but I don't think they realized...

we had the Muellers with us.

Look, sir, I need information
on another matter all together.

An operation code-named
White Rose.

Yes, White Rose.

Yes. Yes it is.
It's extremely urgent.

Hello.

I'm Margo Claymore.
Wife of the first secretary.

Oh, Jessica Fletcher.
I'm delighted to meet you.

I wish the circumstances
were less unnerving.

Henry says I'd better get used
to this sort of thing.

My goodness, that's lovely.
And good luck too.

What? Oh, this necklace?
Oh, a friend gave it to me. Thank you.

Hmm, it's a lovely one.
Made by one of the Cameroon tribes in Africa.

I'm from that region.
Oh.

Margo.

I'm not overdressed, am I?
Don't be silly, darling. You look marvelous.

Miss Greta Mueller,
her brother Franz.

Mr. Andrew Wyckham,
my wife, Margo.

Mr. Claymore, I demand to know
what is going on here,

and since my brother refuses
to be confidential with me.

Miss Mueller, I'm terribly sorry,
but I really don't know what- You don't know?

Two men burst into
my dressing room during intermission,

shoot one of my guards,
force I and my brother...

at gunpoint into
the trunk of a limousine.

Greta, I have told you
that this was necessary. Why?

So you could defect?

You, Franz, my loyal
and patriotic brother.

No, no, no.
You don't know what you're talking about.

You're going to
have to trust me.

No, I do not trust you.
How can I?

L- I will try to talk to her.

Excuse me.

Well, l- I really would like
to make myself useful. Is anyone hungry?

Yes, that is if it's no trouble.

I'll summon up the servants
and see if we can whip up something.

No servants, I'm afraid, darling.
I've had to section off this part of the embassy.

Then I'll just find my way
about the kitchen on my own.

Sorry if it turns into potluck.

But l- I've been here
since only this morning and I don't know my way about.

- Can I help?
- Oh, no, I'll be fine. Thanks.

[Phone Buzzing]

Claymore.

Guns? Spies?

Jessica, what the devil's
going on around here? I wish I knew.

[Indistinct]

Mr. Claymore,
whatever this is about,

neither Mrs. Fletcher
nor myself are involved.

May I presume we are free
to go immediately? You may not, Mr. Wyckham.

The situation's too dangerous.

The East Germans are trying
to locate the Muellers. We can't let anyone leave.

Not until the overseas
situation has been resolved.

- What overseas situation?
- I'm not free to tell you that.

But you do feel free to drag-
[Buzzing]

Innocent civilians
into this sordid business- Now look here, McKelvie.

I happen to be a close personal friend
with the labor minister's cousin,

same hunt club, that sort of thing.
I don't care if you're sleeping with his sister.

You can't leave till it's safe.

Oh.
[Clears Throat]

You'll excuse me. I suddenly feel
a need to, uh, freshen up.

An overseas message has just
been received in the code room.

For my eyes only, Mr. McKelvie.

If it does concern you,
I will let you know.

- Oh, Jessica, spare me that look.
- No, Michael, I will not.

I deeply resent all this.

And it's-it's not just the danger
you've put us all in, but- Michael, you don't trust me.

[Sighs]
All right.

This is not, as you suspected,
merely a defection.

Franz Mueller has been
working for the S.I.S. For the past three years.

Now three years ago,
the Volpes murdered his wife.

She was an independent thinker,
like yourself.

They probably thought
that she was a spy,

so they arranged
an automobile accident.

Mueller pretended to believe that
that was all that it was.

But for the past two years,
he has been romantically involved...

with various women highly placed
in the East German government.

I see. And from them,
he's secured valuable information for the British.

Earlier today,
one of those women,

an intelligence agent
named Ilsa Steiner, disappeared.

Several hours ago,
she was seen walking into police headquarters in East Berlin.

That's whyJack Kendall and I
liberated Franz and his sister...

just before the interval
at the concert hall. Liberated? At gunpoint?

With shots fired?

[Chuckles]
Lucky for us that the "1812 Overture" was playing. Nobody heard them.

Look, I am sorry,

but until we're certain
that Ilsa Steiner...

hasn't betrayed Franz
to the Volkspolizei,

we have to stay put,
all of us.

Bad news, I'm afraid,
Mr. McKelvie.

London just intercepted
a coded communiqué from Berlin.

Colonel Brunner has been ordered
to bring Franz Mueller back to Germany to face charges of espionage.

Well, that's it then.

Mr. Claymore, I suggest that
you contact both the ambassador and the P. M...

to arrange political asylum.

I think I should tell Greta.
She should know.

If you seeJack Kendall,
our driver, tell him to meet me in the code room.

Yes.

Greta.

Mrs. Fletcher.
You'll catch your death of cold. It's very chilly out here.

I hadn't noticed.
I couldn't talk to Franz.

I didn't know what to say.

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher,
I don't understand.

He was always so patriotic.

Greta, he's going to
need your help,

and your support now
more than ever.

What's happened?
A woman that he's been seeing,

she has betrayed him
to the police.

[Sighs]
I know it's-it's a lot for you to deal with all at once,

but at least try to
listen to his side,

and even if you think he's wrong,
he is your brother.

Yes, of course.
You are right.

Good Lord.
[Gasping]

What is that he holds?

It's a white rose.

He was stabbed in the chest.

Death came almost
instantaneously.

Yes, but stabbed with what,
Doctor? How instantaneous?

The weapon seems to
have been a sharp pointed object, something like an ice pick.

How instantaneous?

I'd say he died
in a matter of seconds.

He must have grasped at that flower
by accident when falling. Henry? What is it?

I just went upstairs
to get my wrap.

A man's been hurt, dear.
Please go in.

Uh, everyone. Inside.

- There's nothing we can do out here.
- We can bloody well bring the body inside.

Lend me a hand, Doctor.
No, no, not with your arm, you don't.

Sergeant Major.

Please, if you all will just stay in here
until we sort things out.

What is it?
What has happened?

Mr. Kendall, he's dead.
Murdered.

Murdered?
Here in the embassy?

By who?
By one of us it is obvious.

Do you see any person else here,
Mr. Wyckham?

You are quite sure that
this section of the embassy...

was completely sealed off,
Sergeant Major, even from the staff?

Yes, I see.
Then search the grounds.

And when you've finished,
report back to me.

I want armed sentries posted
at every doorway.

And, Sergeant Major,
you are to take orders from me.

No one else.
Is that quite clear?

I'll join the others.

If the weapon is out there.
I can't find it. Bloody hell!

Oh, I'm so sorry, Michael.
L- I didn't realize you were so close.

Close?

Yes, that we were.

It was me that gotJack
involved in all this.

Twenty years ago,

he was studying finance.

From a long line of stuffy bankers,
he was.

He couldn't have been
more than a boy.

How old do you think I was
when I started?

Ah, he was perfect,
perfect with his banker's face.

In our trade, Jessica,

you don't wear a badge
that says "spy."

Anonymity is
what saves your skin,

being able to pass yourself off...

as a tradesman or-

- Whatever.
- Michael.

- What is "White Rose"?
- What?

He was holding a white rose.

But a few minutes ago,
I heard him on the telephone, very upset.

He was asking someone
for information...

about an operation
called White Rose.

Are you sure about that?

Yes, and l-I don't think
it was just coincidence.

I think that he was trying to
tell us something...

by grasping for that rose,
knowing that he was going to die.

He was trying to identify the killer.
White Rose.

That's the name of one
of your operations, isn't it?

It was.

I wasn't involved with it personally,
but I remember it.

Nine years ago,
Johannesburg, South Africa.

A small group of agents
was assigned...

to support an anti-apartheid activist
called Benjamin Kumbasa.

- Jack was one of them.
- Kumbasa. I remember. He was killed.

Stabbed to death
in a public square.

His assassin escaped
into the crowd before anyone knew what had happened.

And he was never apprehended.

Excuse me, sir.

The first minister has requested
that everyone remain together in the reception room.

That request does not
extend to me,

Sergeant Major.
I have my orders, sir.

When do you suppose
the police will arrive?

I very much doubt that the police
have been summoned, Mr. Wyckham.

What?
This is embassy property. It's British soil.

They have no jurisdiction here.

Claymore's sticky
about that sort of thing.

I thought you might
want some tea. Nein, danke schön.

Greta, I'm sorry.
If there had been any way I could have told you-

Were you afraid
I would betray you? No.

No, I just didn't want
to endanger you. Isn't that what you've done?

Oh, maybe it's not
the physical danger,

but what will it be like
for us now,

not only for me
but Mama and Papa?

Was it all so important to you...

that you could not once
consider us?

Greta, listen to me.
They will give us both political asylum, I am sure-

No.
And soon we will be able to arrange for Mama and Papa.

Nein.
Don't you understand? I don't want asylum.

I am not political!
I am a musician!

[Michael]
And I will not be cooped up in that oversized parlor, Claymore. There's a killer loose.

Yes, and we are searching
the grounds. For what?

Your killer's one of us,
you bloody fool.

Mr. McKelvie, I am operating under
the direct orders of the ambassador...

who will be here shortly as soon
as he is certain the prime minister is secure for the evening.

Meanwhile, as a British subject,
you will conduct yourself-

Excuse me, Mr. Claymore,
but I am not a British subject,

and you are keeping me here
against my will.

Because, madam, you are a suspect
in a murder investigation.

Forgive me, but, uh, if there is
a murder investigation going on here, I, uh, I'm not aware of it.

Perhaps if you'd share with me
what you know or think you know, Mrs. Fletcher.

Well, that presents a problem,
since you, like me, are also a suspect.

Point taken.
Then what do you suggest?

That you give us free movement
within the embassy to investigate,

beginning with access
to the code room computer.

Uh, very well.

Sergeant Major.
Give them whatever they may need.

Yes, sir.
Carry on.

That, Mrs. Fletcher,
is acceptable?

Yes. Thank you.

Oh, by the way, Mr. Claymore,
I understand that your wife comes from Africa.

Uh, from Rhodesia, actually.

Her father is a very successful
tobacco planter.

Ah.
Is that where you met her?

No, I met her in London, actually,
a couple of months ago.

Surely you don't think
my wife's involved in this?

Well, that remains to be seen,
doesn't it?

Well done, Mrs. Fletcher.
And where did you get all that Africa business from?

Oh, we civilians have our ways.
[Laughs]

Now, Michael,
while you check out White Rose,

I want to take another look
in Dr. Lynch's office.

Lynch? What for?

Well, as I remember,
Benjamin Kumbasa was assassinated in 1976.

Mid-April.
Uh-huh.

Well, the certificate
on the doctor's wall says...

that he graduated from
the Transvaal Medical School in June of'76.

Now that may
just be a coincidence. Or maybe not.

Yeah, you go ahead.
I'll check out White Rose in the computer file.

Excuse me, the first minister
would like to see you both in his office.

- Has there been any news?
- I wouldn't know, ma'am.

- Sergeant Major.
- Sir?

- Where are you keeping
Mrs. Fletcher? - She's with Mr. McKelvie, sir.

Doing what?
She's quite all right, sir.

- Now look here.
I'm fed up with all this. - Sorry, sir. Just following orders.

Excuse me.

She was asking about Rhodesia.
Why?

Well, I'm not sure.
Something to do with Kendall's death, I think.

Henry,
I didn't kill that man. Of course you didn't, Margo.

This damn poking around.
I just don't like it. [Knocking]

Look, just chin up.
Everything will be all right, darling.

[Claymore]
Sit down, please.

Oh, you scared the life out of me.

Ignoring the fact that
you don't have a warrant- Found anything?

Yes, Jack Kendall wasn't killed
by just a puncture wound.

Take a look at the moons
on his fingernails, also his eyes.

- Poison.
- And fast acting.

A poisoned weapon.

- That sounds premeditated.
- Or professional.

Which may mean that
your friend was killed because he recognized the assassin.

Jessica.
Michael, take a look at that photograph up on the wall there.

Whatever Dr. Lynch
may have been up to,

he seemed to have been
hobnobbing with those South African revolutionaries.

He also doesn't keep it
much of a secret.

- Well, it does fit his S.I.S. File.
- Then you found something?

Nothing damning, Jessica.

Lynch was active with
the anti-apartheidists in Transvaal.

He actually got himself
thrown into jail several times.

But if he was a supporter
of Benjamin Kumbasa, why would he have killed him?

Margo Claymore?
Oh, yes. The first secretary's wife.

Interesting.
There is no file on her.

But the ambassador has assured me
that every protection of Her Majesty's government...

will be extended to you
and your sister.

- Provided, of course-
- Provided what?

Well, there has been
a killing here, sir,

and it seems clear
that one of us is responsible.

[Phone Buzzes]
Uh, excuse me.

Yes?

One moment.
It's Colonel Brunner.

- Hear what he has to say.
- Yes, we'd all better listen.

Connect him.

Uh, First Secretary
Henry Claymore. May I help you?

Mr. Claymore,
this is Colonel Gerhardt Brunner.

I'm trying to locate
Fräulein Greta Mueller and her brother.

I have reason to believe
they are being held at your embassy.

Well, not to my knowledge,
Colonel.

What a pity.
I have a most urgent message for them.

Yes?
In the unlikely event that you should contact them,

will you please inform them that
their parents have been taken into custody. Nein!

[Greta]
Nein! No!

You cannot do that!

Fräulein Mueller?
They have done nothing.

Greta!
Fräulein Mueller, I am very sorry.

It was necessary precaution
to ensure...

that both you and your brother
return immediately to Berlin.

If not, I'm very much afraid
I cannot guarantee the consequences.

I don't understand.
What kind of people are these?

Miss Mueller, are you sure
I can't give you some sort of sedative?

No, no,
I'll be all right.

Gang of thugs,
simple as that.

Thought that sort of thing
had gone out with Hitler. I'm sorry, Miss Mueller.

Our people tried
to reach your parents, but they were too late.

Our sources havejust confirmed that
they're being held in Volkspolizei headquarters in East Berlin.

Well, then, that is it.
We'll have to go back.

Franz, they'll put you in prison.
They may even kill you.

And if I don't?
This is my doing, Greta, my responsibility.

Mrs. Fletcher.
I know, child. It's a terrible choice.

I'll phone Brunner
and have him pick us up.

I wouldn't do that just yet.

There's some
unfinished business here.

A murder, if you'll recall.
My sister and I had nothing to do with that.

Well, someone is
bloody well responsible,

and no one's leaving here
until I find out who.

Michael.
Excuse me.

Michael.
What is it?

Things are beginning
to take shape.

But certain pieces
still don't make any sense.

I have to talk to
Margo Claymore.

Do me a favor and
double check something for me in the computer file.

But I told you.
There is no file on Margo. Oh, not Margo. Dr. Lynch.

Everything is under control, sir.

We-We'll expect to see you
within the hour. Bye.

A problem, Henry?
Well, in the interest of security,

they've decided to put the P.M.
On a plane back to London.

They should be taking off
momentarily.

Surely not because of
what happened here. No, no, no.

They decided to
take no chances.

Oh, Henry,
what are we going to do?

Maybe we should tell the truth.

I think that might be
a very good idea, Mrs. Claymore.

My wife is not involved
in Mr. Kendall's death.

Well, perhaps not,

but obviously neither one of you
have been telling the truth.

About what? About Rhodesia.
About your wife's background.

- That is not at issue here.
- I'm afraid it is when a murder has been committed.

Yes, you're right.
It's all my fault. The lies.

Margo.
Henry, a man's dead.

We've got to start telling
the truth.

I am from Rhodesia, Mrs. Fletcher,
many years ago.

But my father was not
a wealthy plantation owner,

at least, we're not sure
about that.

My mother worked as a servant.
She was very fair-skinned,

but she had native African blood
in her as I do.

One night, she was raped
by one of the Europeans.

The foreman, the master's son,
the master himself,

she never said.

When I was three, my mother
and I were sent off to London...

where she established
a flower shop.

I've never wanted
for anything...

except for a past
which l- I invented.

I really made it quite believable,
didn't I, darling?

Poor Henry.

When he started squiring me
about London last year,

he was so proud of me
and my excellent pedigree.

Margo told me the truth
before the marriage.

I was surprised, naturally,

but, frankly, I didn't care.

I just didn't care.

But there was your career.
Yes.

We, uh, decided to keep up
the pretense.

After all, the truth was
no one's business but our own. Until tonight.

Mrs. Fletcher, what has
Rhodesia to do with Mr. Kendall's death?

Ten years ago,
a black rights leader was killed in Johannesburg.

It's possible that
that assassin...

is the same person
who committed the murder tonight.

But I was nowhere near
Johannesburg 10 years ago.

I was working seven days a week
in my mother's shop.

I see.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Fletcher.
Ten years ago, I was posted in Hong Kong.

And you can forget about
Dr. Lynch as well, Jessica.

As you suggested,
I did a little digging into the good doctor's background,

and he has himself
a marvelous alibi.

Following a peace march,
he was in a Pretoria jail the day Kumbasa was stabbed.

[Sighs]

I'm afraid your theory about
Jack recognizing the assassin is a bust.

Well, you'll have to admit
it was a bit far-fetched.

I mean, what would
a professional assassin be doing here at the embassy?

Unless here is not where
he was supposed to be.

[Wyckham]
Arrogant fellow, that Claymore.

I'm going to have a word with
the ambassador about him.

Well, it's after 2:00.
Should've returned by now.

[Jessica]
He's on his way, Andrew.

They just put the prime minister
on a plane back to England.

Did they? Well, I thought
the P.M. Wasn't supposed to leave until Tuesday.

Just a safety precaution,
Mr. Wyckham. Ah.

Andrew, I got worried
about Geoffrey Phillips,

so I called his home office in London
to find out where he'd gone this weekend.

They knew nothing about
any emergency assignment to the West Coast,

so we called
the Washington police.

Twenty minutes ago,
they broke into his apartment.

They found Geoffrey in bed,
strangled to death.

Really, Jessica?

Just move, boyo.

I'd welcome a chance
to use this.

[Jessica]
I wonder who hired him.

[Michael]
Ah, one bunch oflunatics is the same as any other.

Well. He used me
and my invitation...

to that reception
to get to the prime minister.

Well, with all that security,
you were his only way in.

If I hadn't needed you
to help me with the Muellers, it would've worked.

Yeah, but how did he
expect to escape?

Maybe he didn't.

Now then, tell me, Jessica,
how did you know?

I didn't, not at first,

not until the police
discovered Geoffrey's body.

But you see, Mr. Wyckham
talked a great deal about his travels,

about how he'd gone everywhere
including Africa.

And I remembered something
that you once told me...

about how agents are seemingly
so faceless,

so ordinary.

[Laughs]
Now that is a fanciful leap.

Maybe so,
but that wasn't all.

A look passed between Wyckham
and your friend Mr. Kendall...

just as we were getting into the car
at the concert hall.

At the time, I thought it was merely
surprise that our driver had been suddenly replaced,

but, of course,
it was much more than that.

Wyckham knew
that he'd been recognized,

knew that he was about
to be exposed.

The murder wasn't smart,
but he had no choice.

[Car Approaching]

Speaking of no choice.

[Brunner]
Fräulein Mueller, I personally regret the actions taken...

by headquarters in Berlin
in regard to your parents.

Herr Oberst, spare me
your insincereness.

As you wish.

The plane is waiting
at the airport.

Yes. Well, there has been
a change in the plans, Herr Oberst.

I have made a great deal
of thought on this,

and my brother will not be
coming with us. Greta?

Franz will remain safely here
in the United States,

a misguided defector,
if you like to call it,

while I, a loyal citizen,

will return to Berlin to be
reunioned with my parents.

My orders are-

I don't care about your orders,
Colonel.

I am the one who makes it matter.

I am the one whose defection
will not only chagrin Berlin,

but you personally
for having permit it.

Your brother... is a traitor.

My brother is a defector,
and that is all anyone has to know.

Colonel, don't ask me to choose
between the safeness of my brother or the safeness of my parents.

You may have a surprise
by what I decide.

Now take what you are offered
before I alter my mind.

You give me little choice.

Go then.
Wait for me by the car.

- Greta, I can't let you-
- Shhh.

It'll be all right.
They won't harm me.

I am too much a celebrity.

We will see
each other again, Franz.

Soon.

Thank you.

For what, my child?
I haven't done anything.

I think you know
that is not true.

[Murmurs]

Michael, you are going to
help her, aren't you?

A sweet young thing like that,
Jessica?

We're already working on it.

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