All language subtitles for 4 How It All Fits Together

Telephone for you, sir. Such a
rough voice. He says it's someone
from your garage.

Right.

Your rude mechanic has bad news for you.

Personally, I find mechanics
are bad news, by and large.

- Which phone, Alwyn?
- The one on the left.

Get on to the head office and find out
when they can supply the damn thing!

Hang on. I think I've got
the number. Alwyn, sling that bag
across for me, please.

I will, sir.

There you go.

- Open it for you?
- No, thanks.

Right, are you ready?

The number you want is 4376299.

- Seems to be going according to plan.
- Thank you.

He does sound jumpy.
He might have overdone it a bit there.

He was very loud.

I've seen it happen before.
Tough ones who crack at 40.

They lock it away, then suddenly
you find 'em at their desks, the tears
pouring on the blotter.

- I thought I ought to say
what's on my mind.
- Peter will manage.

- You heard about his assignment
in North Africa?
- Something, whispers.

Peter was overmatched and he lost.

His agents were hanged. No one recovers
entirely from that sort of thing.

That is, I wouldn't trust a man
...who did.

Bag, please.

Peter, sorry to disturb you,
but we have a tiny crisis.

Percy Alleline would like a word
with you. Can you come now?

Of course, Toby. Have you
been waiting? Didn't you tell
Mr Esterhase where I was?

We've only just got here, Peter.
Your office told us you were doing
a spot of devilling.

Only...Percy's anxious
to speak to you now, you see.

Is there a shuttle to Brixton?

- Yes.
- Ask Transport to take
that thing over.

Will do, sir. Will do.

Percy wants to consult you.

How are the martial arts, Paul?
Any new tricks you could show me?

Paul and I were paired on a tough-guy
course. Damn near killed each other.

Peter.

Please.

Wotcha, Pete.

Well, now, young Peter Guillam,

welcome to my house, about which
you've been making calls, I hear.

Are you lonely in the Brixton outposts?

Tired of chasing the local virgins?
If there are any in Brixton, which I
would doubt!

Excuse my freedom, Mo. You DO know that
Mo Delaware is our new Head of Research?

Man with message in cleft stick
does reach Brixton, does he?

Barring the monsoon.

I hear you have been hobnobbing
with the late, lamented Ricki Tarr,

formerly of your section,
dispatched by you to Lisbon

and, since then,
listed by this service as a defector.

- How is he?
- We have tea at Fortnum's
every afternoon.

Jasmine.

Peter Guillam, you may not
be aware of this,

but I am possessed
of an extremely forgiving nature.

I positively seethe with goodwill.

All I require from you is the matter
of your discussion with Tarr.

I do not ask for his head or any other
part of his offensive anatomy,

and I will restrain my impulse
personally to strangle him...or you.

I would even consider bringing you back
into the palace from hateful Brixton,

where presently you linger
in well-earned obscurity.

I can't wait for him to turn up!

And there's a free pardon for Ricki
until I get my hands on him.

I'll tell him that, word for word.
He'll be thrilled.

I'm very disappointed in you,
young Peter.

I pay you honest money
and you stab me in the back.

I consider that extremely poor reward
for keeping you alive,

against the entreaties of my advisers,
I may tell you.

Let us begin again.

If you won't give me a straight answer,
perhaps you'll unburden to somebody
more persuasive.

Roy.

Tarr's got a daughter, hasn't he?

Yes. Calls her Danny.

- Talk about her a lot?
- He told me he was fond of her.

- That's all I know.
- What are you shrugging
like that for?!

I'm accusing you of playing hooky
behind my back with a damn defector,

of playing damn-fool parlor games,
and all you do is shrug at me?!

There's a law against consorting
with enemy agents! Want me to throw
the book at you?!

I haven't seen him!

Who's playing games?
Not me. You are. So get off my back!

- Who's Danny's mother?
- Eurasian girl.

Tarr likes to think
she passes for European. And the child.

12 years old, long blonde hair,
brown eyes, slim. Is that Danny?

Could be.

So if I told you Danny and her mother
were due in London three days ago

on a direct flight from Tunis, I take it
you would share our perplexity?

- Yes, I would.
- Then you'd keep your mouth shut

when we let you out of here?

It isn't ordinary flight information,
Peter. The source is very private.

Ultra, ultra sensitive, in fact.

In that case, Toby, I'll try
and keep my mouth ultra, ultra shut.

So...what do you make of it,
young Peter?

You're his boss, guide,
philosopher, friend.

Tell me why Ricki Tarr's in London.

- You said his girl and his kid
were expected.
- Don't be obtuse, man!

Where Danny goes, there goes Tarr.

Except he'd move first
and have his impedimenta follow, yes?

That would be favorite.
Tarr was supposed to be
sitting in Moscow.

Now he's back here on the Russian
payroll. Why's it all so hot?

What kind of plant is he
when we know everything about him?

Down to his attack of swine fever, from
which he's only partially recovered!

Excuse my freedom, Mo!

What kind of plant is that?

Never mind what sort. Muddying pools,
poisoning wells. That damn sort.

Pulling the rug out.

Now, listen. Just remember this.

At the first peep, the first whisper

of Tarr or his lady or his wee bairn,
young Peter Guillam,

you come to one of us grown-ups.

Anyone you see at this table.

But not another damn soul.

The name on the passport is Poole.

P, double O, L, E. All three of them.

Tarr told his woman, so we
understand, in case of difficulties,
she should come to you.

Sign that, Peter, would you?

Stupid bloody cabaret.

- Percy gets more insufferable
every day.
- I wouldn't know, Bill, would I?

"I certify that I have today been
advised of Witchcraft Report No.308,
Source Merlin."

"I undertake not to divulge any part of
this report nor to divulge the existence
of Source Merlin."

Get over, you sodding snail!

- Peter...
- That bastard Tarr!

Peter, slow down. Slow down.

The file on Testify seemed a bit thin.
I hope it was worth the sweat.

Ricki Tarr's not lied to us,
not in any material way.

He's simply done what agents
the world over do. Failed to tell us
the whole story.

- On the other hand, he has been
rather clever.
- Are you actually pleased with him?

Well, yes. We now know that Source
Merlin works to Moscow Center,

because that's where Merlin's information
on Ricki Tarr must have come from.

From Karla.

Ricki's been a lot better today, sir.
Not nearly so...nervy.

He did his football pools
this morning, then we planted
some trees in the garden,

and this evening we had a game of cards.

- Has he been out alone?
- No.

- Used the telephone?
- Wouldn't dare, sir.

Has he talked about his daughter Danny
or her mother?

He did over the weekend,
but he's cooled off about them since

in view of the emotional side.

Did he mention any arrangements
for meeting them, anything about
passports?

- No, sir.
- What has he talked about,
for God's sake?

Mostly the Russian lady, Irina.
He mentions her name a lot. He likes
to read her diary.

He says he's gonna make Moscow Center
swap the mole for Irina when the mole's
been caught.

Then he'll buy her a place in Scotland.
He says he'll see me right.

Get me a big job in the Circus.
I just listen, of course.

Right.

You don't post those
football coupons, Fawn?

- No, Mr Smiley.
- Let's hope he doesn't win.

That would be expensive for us.

- Thank you for your help.
Sorry to impose.
- He's gone to bed.

I must ask you once more.

What did you do with the two
Swiss escape passports you took
with you to Lisbon?

I told you. Burned them.

When you bought
your fake British passport in Istanbul,

a passport for yourself in the name
of Poole, did you buy any others from
the same source?

Why? Why should I?

To protect your child and her mother.
That seems reasonable.

It wouldn't be very gallant to
leave them to the mercy of the
Moscow hood on your tail

while you escaped to all this
...VIP protection.

It's horrible to think of.

Truly horrible

to contemplate the lengths Karla might
go to in order to obtain your silence...

or your services.

But perhaps what you actually did
and forgot to tell us about

was to burn the British passports
you obtained for Mrs Poole and Miss
Danny Poole,

but kept your own to convince Karla's
footpads you thought it was still safe.

Then, probably,

you made travel bookings in the name
of the Poole family for the same reason.

You doctored the Swiss passports
for Danny and her mother

and made other arrangements for them...

like staying in Marseilles, perhaps...

I don't know where they are,
but I'm sure no harm has come to them.

Watch your own damn woman!
Leave mine alone!

No, Peter.

It's just as well I shouldn't know
where they are

so long as you don't try to communicate.

Unless, of course, you want me
to help in some way. Money or whatever.

No need. Let's trust each other,
shall we?

Are we friends again, Mr Guillam?

It won't be long now.

- Got all you need?
- Can I have my gun back?

Yes.

Well, why not, Peter?

- Do we buy that?
- Oh, yes.

I told you he'd been clever.

A little bit of the truth is
indispensable in the games
agents play. You know that.

Ricki put his family in safekeeping
and found his own way home. He fooled
the Russians.

If Karla had a deal with him, would you
and I be alive and living in hope?

Not by now, I think.

Let it breathe a little.

Just leave it. We'll pour it
when we're ready.

Does anyone know Karla's real name?
How old is he?

Another mystery.
Decades of his life unaccounted for.

So many of the people he's worked with
have a way of...dying off.

He was in England in 1936 and '41.
That's documented.

We can assume it was some time
during that period he recruited our
mole Gerald.

I met him once.

In Delhi.

Long before we came to know him
as the legendary Karla.

In the mid-fifties, Moscow Center
was in pieces on the floor. Wholesale
purgings and shootings.

As a result, defection everywhere.

I became a kind of commercial traveller.

The whole world was my territory.

Inspecting the goods, fixing the terms.

Disposing as seemed best.
On London's instructions, of course.

Well, I found myself off to India,

where the authorities had arrested,
at our request,

on some trumped-up immigration
nonsense,

a Mr Gerstmann...Karla's name
at that time.

He was on his way
back to Moscow from San Francisco,

except that he didn't know
that he was Moscow-bound.

He'd been told to rendezvous
with a Tass correspondent in Delhi.

The message from the Tass man
was an airplane ticket

and...
"Don't ask me any questions, comrade."

Karla was in disgrace.

Summoned...

and doomed.

There were two things he didn't know...
first, we'd intercepted the radio signal

directing him to Delhi.

Secondly, the San Francisco network
he'd organized

had been rolled up, hide and hair,
the day he left.

Could we take those things
off his hands?

I only have to shout for you, don't I?

Mr Gerstmann...

you are the Cold War orphan.

If you go home to Moscow,
you'll be shot or sent to die in a camp.

Wouldn't you prefer to ask us
for protection? We have no powers
of permanent arrest.

Our arrangement with the Americans
was that they hit your agents

and we make you this invitation.

I can't see an alternative for you.

If you cooperate,

we can give you a new start,
a new identity.

Seclusion, a modest amount of money.

Why don't you start by telling me
your true name?

Would you like a cigarette?
I know you're a chain-smoker.

Please. I know this is what you smoke.

Look...I'm not offering you wealth
...or smart women

or your choice of fast cars...things
you haven't any use for.

And I won't make any claims
about the moral superiority of the West.

I'm sure you can see through our values,
as I can see through yours in the East.

You and I spend our lives looking for
the weaknesses in each other's systems.

I'm sure each of us has experienced
innumerable technical satisfactions

in our wretched Cold War.

But now your own side is going
to shoot you...for nothing.

For misdemeanors you have not committed.

Because of a power struggle
within your own hierarchy.

Because, probably, of someone's
treachery...

or sheer incompetence.

I'm sure both of us, when we were young,
subscribed to great visions.

Not any more.

After all you've seen...

you can't still be committed
to that old grand design.

It's achieved nothing...except new
forms of the old misery.

Don't destroy yourself.

They're not worth it.

Do you know where your wife is?
I mean, at this moment.

You have to think about her.
She'll have to make a new life.

She'll have a friend...one really
good friend

who could look after her.

Perhaps we could get in touch
with her secretly.

If you stay with us,
we might be able to arrange something.

An exchange for someone
your people want returned.

But if you go back,

it can do her nothing but harm.

She'll be cold-shouldered
...suspected.

The best she can hope for is
to be allowed to see you before
you're shot.

Another meaningless firing squad.

Guard.

- What did Control say
when you got back?
- "I hope to God they do shoot him."

But they didn't. His boss was
the one who faced the firing squad,
as it turned out.

Mr Gerstmann survived...and thrived.

How he thrived. He went on to build
his legend and become the Karla we know.

Who, all the time he sat looking at me,
was thinking of Gerald the mole.

Have you noticed, Peter...

that whenever I really trouble one
of our acquaintances with my questions,

he'll raise the matter of my failure
as a husband...to confound me.

- Instructive.
- Ricki Tarr tried it twice.

Unimportant, in his case. Spite.

Well...that was sumptuous!

That boy Fawn...good at his judo,
isn't he?

Karate.

Judo is what Fawn would call
"Just your little cuddle, Mr Smiley."

I don't think even Toby Esterhase's
people would follow us here.

The food's well below the standard
they've come to expect.

So Karla's fireproof.
He can't be bought or beaten.

Not fireproof, because he's a fanatic.

I may have behaved like the archetype
of a flabby Western liberal,

but I'd rather be MY kind
of fool than his.

One day, that lack of moderation
will be Karla's downfall.

He's never touched radio
since the debacle in San Francisco.

Cut it right out of his handwriting.
His agents aren't allowed near it.

That's something else
you and Karla have in common.

Yes, I am prejudiced against radio men.
Tiresome breed. Overstrung, unreliable.

- What's the other thing?
- The cigarette lighter.

- I assume he still has it.
- As far as I know.

- Sorry, George.
- Not at all.

- How do you feel, Peter?
- I'm alright.

After Delhi, you know, Control gave me
three months' leave without any option.

When this is over,
I hope you'll take it easy for a while.

We're not quite there, but nearly.

Peter, have you got the handbrake on?

Operation Witchcraft.
Alleline to Minister.

"Extremely secret and personal."

"We spoke. Merlin, as you may
have known for some time, is not
one source but several."

"It'll do the Treasury no harm
to learn..." Percy was enjoying
himself!

"...to learn that Merlin's 10,000
Swiss francs a month in salary"

"and a similar figure for expenses
are scarcely excessive"

"when the cloth has to be cut
so many ways."

"Nevertheless, I regard it as paramount"

"that knowledge of the London house
and its purpose"

"remain absolutely at a minimum."

In a sense, Alleline's quite right
about Merlin. Of course Merlin
represents several sources.

Various departments of Moscow Center,

with Karla cuing them in on
the basis of the most timely
material of the moment.

Sometimes he likes to direct
Circus attention to a topical subject,
sometimes to deflect it.

For example, after Ricki Tarr's
encounter with Irina in Lisbon,

Merlin delivered some vivid insights
on the "ideological penetration"

"of the United States."

But Karla doesn't know what Tarr's
done with Irina's information.

Which brings us to your interrogation
by Alleline

and his reference to Tarr's probable role
over here in "muddying pools" et cetera.

Merlin's message on Tarr, I suggest,

was that Ricki would be trying to sell
to someone in London, on Karla's behalf,

fictitious material about
a traitor in the Circus.

Nothing muddier than that, is there?
Remember, Merlin is totally believed.

We have a connection
between Merlin and the mole.

And at the heart
of this beautifully symmetrical plot

is a house in London
for which the Treasury paid �60,000.

Plus another 10 for making it
more to Merlin's liking. Or Gerald's.

Fascinating, George.

Thank you.

How do I explain to my Minister,
least painfully,

that Merlin's a fraud
and he'll have to tell the Americans so?

He's devoted to Merlin.

Impress upon him that whatever
he's buying from the Americans with
Merlin's discredited currency

is going to Moscow via Gerald the mole.

That should do the trick.

This document is not one
you've asked me to bring.

It arrived only today. Source unknown.

"According to a recently released
prisoner from Lubianka,"

"Moscow Center held a secret execution
in March."

"The victims, three of its
functionaries, were shot in
the back of the neck."

- One was a woman.
- Ricki Tarr mustn't know.

It's vital he gets no wind of this. God
knows what he'd do if he found out Irina
was dead.

- We may need to use him.
- Do you believe Tarr's in love
with her?

A Highlands homestead, the avenging lover?
The honorable Ricki Tarr?

He may feel compelled, Peter.
Everybody has a loyalty somewhere.

- He mustn't know.
- I agree.

- I've brought all I could find
on Jim Prideaux.
- Thank you.

Prideaux and Bill Haydon were really
...very close, you know.

- I hadn't realised.
- Yes.

Thank you. Operation Testify.

We need to understand what happened
or, rather, why it happened.

The file you borrowed gives us
a nudge in the right direction.

I think I know who to talk to next.
Your day was hardly wasted.

I am glad of that.

We traced Prideaux. He's now a teacher.
Thursgood Preparatory School for Boys.

It's in the West Country.

Right.

Lord, now lettest thou
thy servant

Depart in peace

According to

Thy word

For mine eyes have seen

Thy salvation

Which thou hast prepared before the face

Of all people

To be a light

To lighten

The gentiles

And to be the glory

Of thy people

Israel

Glory be to the Father

And to the Son

And to the Holy Ghost

As it was in the beginning

Is now and ever shall be

World without end

Amen