(gentle music) - Don't move.

- What?

- Wait.

- Oh, don't.

I look terrible.

- You look beautiful.

(camera clicks) (gentle music) (camera clicks) (classical piano music) - That's much better, William.

That was very good.

- Thank you, Mr. Kramer.

- Now I want you to practice this section down to G for next week.

And the scales, yes?

- Right.

(gentle music) (footsteps thudding) (door banging) (man grunts) (door banging) - Thomas Kramer?

- Yes.

- [Soldier] I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to come with us.

- What?

Where?

- Thomas, what is it?

- [Soldier] You're being interned as enemy aliens under the Defense Regulations and Aliens Order Act of 1920.

- [Interrogator] You came to England in 1938.

You have a B registration, restricted movement.

- Thomas!

- Elsie!

- [Interrogater] You have relatives in Germany.

- Yes.

- You're aware, Mr. Kramer, that B registration forbids the possession and use of a camera?

- It wasn't our camera.

It belongs to my nephew.

His name is Mark Andrews.

He's in the army.

He's stationed in Aldershot.

- [Interrogater] Where did you get that information?

- He told us.

- I was not photographing a ship.

I was photographing my wife.

- We have the film, Mr. Kramer.

It was definitely a ship.

- I didn't see it.

- [Interrogater] When do you put out your washing, Mrs. Kramer?

Clothes on a washing line.

The first sighting made by an enemy aircraft approaching from the south.

Are you making a signal?

- [Interrogater] Can you explain this?

- I sent this to my friend in Boston in America.

How did you get it?

- What are those symbols?

- They're chess symbols.

I play chess.

- I want to speak to my husband.

- I am a Professor of music.

I am not a spy.

I was sponsored in this country by the Society For the Protection of Science and Learning.

And now I want to go home.

(gate creaking) - [Soldier] Head to the left.

Turn to the right.

(gentle music) (people chattering) Move it!

Move along!

(speaking in foreign language) (dramatic music) - Elsie!

- Thomas!

- [Soldier] This way, please.

(gentle music) (people chattering) (Elsie crying) (Elsie groans) (gate clanging) (gentle music) - [Driver] Thank you, sir.

(dramatic music) - The answer is no, Foyle, and this time it's final.

This is, what, your fourth request?

- I just feel that in the circumstances, I could be doing something a little more relevant to the war effort.

- Yes, that's very commendable.

- Not even as if I'm doing my actual job anymore.

Pen pushing, blackouts, traffic patrols, you don't need me for that.

- Look, I need you where you are, Foyle.

You're a first-class police officer.

- Crime rate has just about halved.

- That may be the case in Hastings, but per head of population, it's rising.

Larceny, breaking and entering, civil offenses, and murder.

Has it crossed your mind that we're training half the country how to kill?

Huh?

What's the effect of that gonna be?

- Warsaw, Prague, there are murders every day.

- That doesn't concern you or me.

- And if there was a murder to be investigated, I haven't got the men to cover it.

Most of them have enlisted.

My sergeant, for example, is somewhere in the North Sea.

- It's the same for all of us.

Last month alone, we lost three chief constables, all enlisted men.

- I'm wasting my time on the South coast.

I want to be transferred.

- Request refused.

- Thank you for seeing me.

- Sit down, Foyle.

I haven't finished yet.

So what are you working on at the moment?

- Something for the Ministry of Labor.

- Well, the only item of relevance that's come out of this conversation, as far as I can see, is that there's a shortage of personnel.

We need to find you a new sergeant.

I'll make that a priority.

Oh, and I understand you don't drive.

I've never heard of a chief superintendent who can't drive, but still I've managed to arrange a personal driver for you.

Name is Stewart.

Pulled out of the MTC.

It's a bit unorthodox, I know, but it's the best we could do.

- Thank you.

- That's all.

And I don't want to see any more of these requests.

You know, Foyle, if you weren't so damned obstinate, you'd see that I'm actually on your side.

You do a good job.

No telling where you might be once the war's over.

- It'll depend on who wins, I suppose.

(ducks quacking) (bell ringing) - He's my Uncle, sir.

His name is Thomas Kramer.

He come to this country two years ago.

He was the leader of the Philharmonic Orchestra in Vienna.

- Really?

- He had to leave because he spoke out against what they're doing over there, you know, the Jewish musicians and Jewish composers forced out of work and all that.

- It's a very unfortunate situation, yes.

- [Andrews] They've put him in a camp.

It's not even a camp.

It's a converted factory.

They've put him in with out-and-out Nazis, the very people he came to escape from.

- Andrews, I'm not quite certain what you think I can do for you.

- Well, sir, seeing as how I worked for you and you being the local magistrate, well, you must know people.

- No, I'm afraid not.

There are proper authorities, you see, to deal with this sort of thing, and I have nothing to do with them.

Your uncle and aunt have been categorized as enemy aliens, and that's how it has to be.

On the other hand, I'm sure they'll be very well-treated.

- My aunt is dead, sir.

She was 63, and she had a heart attack.

They let her die.

- I'm so sorry, but as I've already explained, there's nothing I can do.

- Nothing?

- I'm afraid not.

I'm sorry.

- But your wife is German.

- What?

- It's true, isn't it?

- My wife is from the Sudetenland, but that has got nothing to do with you.

- And why wasn't she interned?

- I'll thank you to leave my wife out of this.

How dare you come here and put these questions to me in this fashion?

- I just want to get my uncle home.

- There's nothing I can do, and that's all there is to it.

Now I think you'd better go.

(dramatic music) (gentle music) (car horn honking) (dramatic music) - [Sarah] Michael.

- Hello, darling.

- Mm.

- Mm.

How's my gorgeous girl?

- Oh, much better now you're here.

How was the drive?

- Oh, uh, long but worth it.

How are M and P?

- Oh, pretty grisly.

Have you checked into The Bell?

- No, not yet.

I don't suppose there's any chance?

- You know what daddy's like.

- [Greta] Who was that?

- What?

- The young soldier I saw just now.

- That is Mark Andrews, underkeeper here, or he used to be.

- He looked angry.

- Yes.

I wasn't able to help him.

- Help him what?

- Oh, it doesn't matter.

Did I hear someone arrive?

- Michael's here.

- Good.

Then we can have lunch.

- Mmm.

It's hell in London.

Everyone's blaming everyone else about Norway.

They say Churchill misjudged the whole thing.

- Oh, do they?

Tell me, how long are you able to stay down here?

- [Micheal] They gave me a couple of days.

- Oh, good, good.

- [Greta] Are you staying at The Bell?

- Yeah.

- Does he really have to, Daddy?

Now Sarah, don't start that again.

- I'm perfectly happy at The Bell.

Really, I am.

- So what have you been doing in London, Michael?

In your free time?

- Well, I don't get a lot of free time, Greta.

- No?

- Why are you always picking on him?

Michael's working as hard as anybody.

- I wasn't picking on him.

- Well you're always insinuating something.

- [Great] Sarah!

- At least someone in this house is doing something for the war effort.

- [Greta] What did I say?

Did I say anything?

- It's all right.

- No, it's not all right.

I won't have you talking to Greta like that.

- Well, I just wish if she had something against Michael, she could come out and say it.

Or is it about the money again?

- That's enough!

- [Sara] You always take her side.

- I'm not taking sides.

I just expect a little civilized behavior.

When this is your house, you may do as you like, but until then oh, circulate the wine, will you?

(door knocking) - Come in.

- Chief Superintendent Foyle?

- Yes.

- I've been assigned to you as your new driver.

- Oh.

Uh, Stewart?

- Samantha Stewart, sir.

You can call me Sam.

(dramatic music) Um, I was hoping to get into the WAAF, but I ended up in the MTC.

- [Foyle] Ah.

- The Mechanized Transport Corps.

I was assigned to the Ministry of Aircraft Production, but then they said they were looking for someone with a knowledge of the South Downs.

- [Foyle] Hm, I see.

And you have a knowledge of the, uh, South Downs?

- Oh, yes, yes.

I was born in Lyminster, just outside Arundel.

My father is actually the Vicar at St. Stephen's.

Do you know it?

- Uh, no, no.

- No, I don't suppose there's any reason why you should.

Anyway, it's not much fun being the vicar's daughter, on your best behavior all the time.

Personally, I couldn't wait for the war to come along.

Chance to get out.

- So very unusual for a ranking officer to be assigned a driver outside the force.

- Yes.

Yes, that's what I said when they told me, but they said they couldn't get anyone else, so, - [Man] Thank you, sir.

- Here I am.

- Right.

(gentle music) - So what are you investigating?

I hope it's something juicy, a spy ring or a nice grisly murder.

- I think we should get something straight, right from the very beginning.

You don't ask me what I'm doing.

You don't ask me what I'm investigating.

You simply take me to where I want to go.

Is that understood?

- Whatever you say.

- Good.

If you just wait here, thank you.

- How long will you be?

Are you meeting someone?

- Excuse me.

Did you not understand what I've just been, uh, - What?

- Never mind.

Just, uh, wait here, will you?

(dramatic music) - Mr. Foyle?

- [Foyle] That's right.

- Do you have the money?

- 150 pound.

- You know, I should have thought you were a bit old to worry about being called up.

- Well, it's not me.

It's my son.

- Ah.

- He's, uh, 23.

I don't want him to go.

- He doesn't have to.

- [Foyle] Good.

Uh, so how does it work?

- You give me his particulars, and his call-up papers get mislaid.

After that, he doesn't exist.

There's no comeback.

That's the way the system works.

- I see.

And, um, I understand you're a civil servant?

- Perhaps I am.

- [Foyle] And I, uh, I don't know your name.

- [Keegan] Why do you want to know?

- Well, 150 pounds is a lot of money.

Um, how do I know I'm ever gonna see you again?

- My name's Keegan.

You can check me out at the Brighton office.

All right?

- Yeah, well, um, my name's Foyle, Detective Chief Superintendent Foyle, and I'm placing you under arrest, (groans).

(dramatic music) (Keegan breathing heavily) (Keegan yells) (dramatic music) (trash can clanks) - Sam?

- Yes, sir.

- Thank you.

(gentle music) (light airy music) - ÷Andrew] A black gnat.

- Not even close.

It's a classic iron blue.

It was a complete waste of time teaching you any of this, wasn't it, really?

- How are you, Dad?

- Ah.

There's bugger all in the larder.

- Well, there was bugger all indication, Andrew, that you were coming home.

How long are you gonna be here?

- A couple of days.

Eh, when did you get this?

- Andrew, don't, look.

We can eat out if you want.

- No.

I've been stuck on buses and trains all day.

It's good to be home.

- Good.

And how's Oxford?

- Mmm.

It's not the same.

The town's crawling with refugees, evacuees, and all the rest of it.

And the colleges are empty.

They're dumping a maternity hospital in Ruskin.

Well, that's something to look forward to, lots of pretty nurses.

At least it would be if I was still there.

- You've left?

You're not going back?

- I've had my orders.

- Oh.

- You know I've been flying weekends with the volunteers.

Pretty old crates, but it's been fun.

Well, now it's the real thing.

- I see.

Right.

- I should have told you.

I was going to write.

Then I was going to call.

In the end, I came down to tell you myself.

- And where are you gonna be based?

- I'm not allowed to tell you.

It's a drome just outside some godawful place you never heard of up in Russia.

- Scotland.

- Three months training.

Then I suppose I'll be flying ops.

I'm sorry, Dad.

- No, no.

I, uh, you shouldn't be.

I'm proud of you.

I really am, but, um.

So when do you have to leave?

- Saturday.

There's a two o'clock train.

- Oh, that's all right, then.

Then we can, uh, go down to the river, then, eh?

- (laughs) You and the iron blue?

- Absolutely.

- I'd like that.

- Well, you're a bloody liar, but you'll come anyway.

- Dad.

- Yeah?

- It's good to see you.

- Hmm.

- Right, I want a complete list of everyone you had dealings with, all the papers you managed to mislay, and since you obviously weren't working alone, a list of all the people who were working with you.

I take it you weren't advertising in the local gazette.

So, uh, how did you find your clients, Mr. Keegan?

Well, how did people find out about you and about what you could do for anyone who didn't want to be called up?

Right.

You don't want to say anything?

That's absolutely fine.

Now I just hand your file over to the military police.

They can deal with you.

Treason in a time of war.

They'll hang you.

(dramatic music) - There's a man called Judd, Ian Judd.

(gentle music) - [Announcer] I have had German friends in the past, and I hope that I may live to have a German friend or two again one day.

- Over there, Tracey.

- Right, Mr. Judd.

- [Announcer] And I hate to have to say it, but say it I will.

Be careful at this moment how you put complete trust in any person of German or Austrian connections.

If you should know any people of this kind who are still at large-- - Turn it off!

They don't know what they're talking about, the bastards.

They don't know a bloody thing!

- Language.

- They've got it right, if you ask me.

We don't want that lot over here.

- [Mark] What?

- Germans.

Fifth column, that's what they call them.

- That's just what happened in Norway, isn't it?

- That's right.

They sit here all nice and quiet, pretending to be our friends, but when their real mates march in.

- What, so if a German walked in here, you wouldn't serve him?

- I'd show them the door.

- And what if it was Mrs. Beaumont From the manor?

- She's different.

- But she's German.

- What point are you trying to make?

- She's German, but no one complains about her.

If she came in here, you'd serve her a drink and kowtow like the rest of them.

But for all you know, she could be signaling her friends in Berlin right now.

- She's Mr. Beaumont's wife.

- She's still a bloody German!

I'll have another one.

- I think you've had enough.

- Go on.

Better get home.

- You wait and see.

When the bombs start falling, we'll see who the real enemy is.

- Don't forget I've got to go home early today, Mr. Judd.

- Do the blackout first.

I don't want your dad giving us a fight.

(door clatters) (people chattering) Nice to see you again, Mr. Turner.

Room for the night, is it?

- Two nights.

- [Ian] Same room as usual?

- Any room will do.

- That's, uh, seven shillings a night.

Plus you owe me for a couple of weeks.

- You know, Judd, one day you're gonna push me too far.

- [Ian] Oh, just rendering a service, Mr. Turner.

- Thank you.

- Hey, Terry.

- Ray!

- Um, can I, can I walk you home?

- Yeah.

If you want.

- [Both] All right.

- I'm thinking about joining up.

- Are you?

- Mm.

Dad doesn't want me to.

He says he needs me in the shop.

- You'll get called up anyway.

- Ah.

I want to join now.

Look.

Would you miss me?

You know, if I went?

- Of course I would.

What sort of question is that?

Terry, would you miss me?

- You know I would.

- (laughing) I'd miss you.

- Ray, what are you going on about?

- You know how I feel about you.

- Oh.

Well, I've got to go.

- No, wait.

- What's going on here?

- It's all right, Dad.

It's only Ray.

- What about my tea, then?

- All right.

I'll see you tomorrow, then.

- Right.

- [Dad] Come on.

- I'll be back in one hour.

- You be careful.

- Tell that to the horse.

Good morning, doctor.

- [Henry] Groves?

- Do you think that's wise?

- [Henry] What?

- Her riding round the country like that.

She's supposed to be ill. - I think Greta can look after herself.

- That wasn't what you said to me once, and it wasn't just me.

I wasn't the only one to stick my neck out.

(dramatic music) - Uh, may I come in?

I need to powder my nose.

(gentle music) - [Foyle] Good afternoon, Mr. Judd?

- Who wants to know?

- [Foyle] The name's Foyle.

I'm a police officer.

- Oh, yeah?

- I wouldn't mind a word if you've got a minute.

- [Ian] Hold on.

Tracey, we're out of the mild.

- Yes, Mr. Judd.

- I understand you know a man called Robert Keegan.

- Bob.

Yeah, I met him once or twice.

What about him?

- You were in business together?

- No.

He drinks here.

I've poured him a pint.

That's the only business we've ever had.

- Oh.

That's not quite what he says.

(air raid siren blaring) - Sir!

It's got to be a false alarm, hasn't it?

- [Man] German!

- Get under cover!

Can't you hear?

- Come on.

(people screaming) - [Man] There's a bomb!

(bomb whistling) - Get down!

(bomb booming) (man groans) - Oh, God.

(people moaning) (dramatic music) - [Man] Spray it on the common area!

- [Man] Let's all move!

- [Man] Get up pressure!

(men shouting) (dramatic music) - [Man] Poor girl.

- All right.

(dramatic music) - I hope you're pleased with yourself.

If you hadn't come here asking bloody questions, I wouldn't have needed to send Tracey outside.

- Can I take that?

Thank you.

Here we are, then.

Have a sip of that.

- Mm hm.

- It's all right.

It's not broken.

This will just stop the bleeding.

- That's a very good job.

- They taught us basic first aid in the MTC.

My instructor always said he'd rather bleed to death than be bandaged by me.

- Oh.

- Was it a raid?

- No, a single plane, evidently, maybe lost on its way home, with-- - Where is she?

- Ray, Ray, you can't come in now.

- Where is she?

- Not now.

- I want to see her!

- Stop it.

- Ray, stop it!

- Stop it Ray, she's not here.

I'm afraid she's dead.

- Oh!

- She was killed by the bomb.

- Terry?

- Sorry, Ray.

- Don't you give me that.

She shouldn't even have been here, and you knew!

You bloody knew!

- Hey!

- The loss is on you, Mr. Judd.

I know all about you, and I told her.

I told her.

- All right.

That's enough, that's enough.

It's okay.

- She was my best girl.

- Yeah, we're very sorry.

Where do you live?

- In the village.

- Well, I think you should be at home.

Take him home, Sam.

That's the best place for you.

- Come on.

(gentle music) - I don't understand it.

I just don't understand it.

If they're gonna drop a bomb anywhere, why here?

And why Tracey.

- I'm sorry, Mr. Stephens.

I'm so sorry.

They said it was just one plane, just one plane.

- Those Germans.

Those bloody, bloody Germans.

- [Ray] I hate them, too.

- If I could get my hands on them, if I could get my hands on just one of them.

(dramatic music) - I went to see Beaumont, Henry Beaumont.

I used to work for him.

I thought he would help.

- Why would he help?

- His wife is German.

- I haven't seen her here.

- She wasn't interned.

- They've interned everyone between the ages of 16 and 60 living within a five mile radius of the coast.

Is she 61?

- I don't think so.

Elsie was 63.

I shouldn't have left my camera.

- We weren't allowed to have a camera.

- I am sorry.

- They say that I can petition the appeals tribunal and they may release me, but they also say there's a long waiting list.

Five or six months.

- [Mark] They're bastards!

It makes me wonder which side I'm fighting for.

- Mark, Mark, Mark!

You're fighting for the right side.

All this, it's because of the war.

It's not their fault.

- And Elsie?

- It happened and worse things will happen.

This is only the very start.

(people chattering) - Are you gonna be all right?

- They're treating me well.

The food is good.

We have a chess club, our own newspaper.

You have no idea how many intellectuals they have locked up here, poets and writers and artists.

- And Nazis.

- And those, too.

- It's still not right.

I mean, you've done nothing wrong.

You shouldn't be here.

- Mark, there's nothing you can do.

- We'll see about that.

(gentle music) - [Foyle] I wouldn't be doing this for just anybody, you know?

- What is it?

- Glenlivet.

The last bottle.

I mean, you can still get them in shops, but it's very expensive now.

- What will you do, Dad?

- What will I do?

- Well, I was just thinking about you on your own in this place.

It's a pretty big house to be rattling around in.

- Oh, I'll be all right.

I mean, the way things are, they'll probably send me a family.

They can have your room.

- Yeah, but I'll be home on leave.

- Well, you can share.

- Ha.

- A pilot, eh?

Your mum would be proud.

- She'd have been worried sick.

- And I won't be?

- You're not serious.

- Well, you're right.

I don't see why I should worry about you.

It was me that got bombed.

- Hm.

- A reminder, I suppose, if I needed reminding, of how important this is, what you're doing.

I mean, this war, it-- - Oh, it will be over by Christmas.

- Well, maybe once they know you're in the air, Hitler will run for cover.

- Hm.

- Saturday?

Still on for Saturday?

- The river.

- The river.

Well, you complained about the larder.

You can help me fill it.

(laughing) - Thank you.

- Thank you, Natalie.

She has asked to leave.

- Oh, no.

Why?

- She didn't say.

She just doesn't want to work here anymore.

- She joining up?

- I don't think so.

- This is very good.

What, what is it?

- Turbot.

- Rather exotic.

- Yes, but you try to get cod or haddock.

There is nothing in the shops, and if there is, 12 ounces of sugar, four ounces of butter.

- You've done very well.

- I went into the village, but it was as if nobody wanted to serve me at all.

- No, well, they wouldn't, would they?

- [Micheal] Uh, there's a rumor, they're putting up petrol again another penny, ha'penny.

Bad enough with beer and cigarettes, it looks like we're all gonna have to start tightening our belts.

- What did you mean by that, Sarah?

- Nothing.

- Tell me.

- Well, the village was bombed today, or didn't anyone tell you?

- They told me.

Of course I know, but that has nothing to do for me.

- With me.

Nothing to do with me.

- Now, hold on, hold on.

- Why do you always have to fight with me, always?

- Why do I fight with you?

Well, Greta, haven't you noticed we all are?

You're the enemy.

- You go and apologize.

Damn you.

Do it now.

(Greta crying softly) (gentle music) - [Sarah] I'm sorry.

- You don't understand me.

Why have you never understood me?

Is it because I am not English?

- No.

- Or because I married your father?

I care for him, Sarah.

I care for both of you.

- Then why are you doing everything you can to spoil my happiness?

- I have done nothing.

- What about Michael?

(Greta sighs) - If you do have something against him, I just wish you'd tell me what it is.

(dramatic music) - I don't trust him.

I don't think he's right for you.

- You think he's after my money?

- Yes.

- Well, perhaps that makes two of you.

- Oh!

- In three weeks, the two of us are getting married, and that's an end of it.

- No, Sarah.

That will not happen, I promise you.

(dramatic music) I will not let you marry that man.

(church bells ringing) (bell ringing) - Sam, come in.

I'll get my coat.

(gentle music) Right.

- These are very good, sir.

They yours?

- No.

My, my wife painted them.

Ready?

- Present and correct.

Where to?

- The hospital.

- [Doctor] Paul Milner.

He was a corporal with the Terriers at Trondheim.

- [Foyle] He was a detective sergeant when I knew him.

- [Doctor] In peacetime, you mean.

- Hmm.

How bad is he?

- He more or less took a direct hit, lost the lower part of his left leg, and there were other complications.

- I was hoping to talk to him.

- I'm afraid that may not be possible.

It's not just his physical injuries that are the problem.

(people chattering) Corporal Milner.

Corporal?

- No, just, um, just let me know when he's ready.

(horse neighing) (dramatic music) (woman screaming) - Foyle, Christopher Foyle.

Yes, the name's familiar to me.

- Well, we met once or twice in court.

- Yes, of course.

It's very good of you to take charge of this.

- Well, you telephoned the Assistant Commissioner-- - Oh, Summers.

Yes, he's an old friend.

- And he telephoned me.

- It's just an accident, I'm sure.

It's got to be.

And the blood.

We don't know that it's hers.

- Well, we are looking for her.

- Yes.

- Mrs. Beaumont is your second wife?

- Yes.

My first wife Claire died in a motor accident 12 years ago.

I met Greta on a tour of Czechoslovakia in, uh, '38 just a couple of months before Munich.

She was at Prague University working in the archives.

- Yes, and, uh, her maiden name?

- Why on earth do you want to know?

- Well, there are always forms, I'm afraid, to fill in.

- Greta Anna Hauptmann.

Not the sort of name one wants to bandy about the British countryside just at the moment.

- No, I was in the village the other day.

I imagine feelings are running very high.

- Yes, that was very unfortunate.

Of course, I heard about the girl who got killed, but that has nothing to do with Greta.

Nobody in their right mind could possibly imagine, what I'm trying to say is that if anybody has a grudge against Greta, they, they simply don't know her.

Greta never had any time for Hitler or Nazis.

- And her classification?

- Why do you ask?

- Well, same reason, forms.

- She went before a tribunal in February.

It was an extremely unpleasant experience for both of us.

Not, of course, that there was anything to worry about.

They quite rightly gave her C status, which means, as you're probably well aware, that she was not considered dangerous to anyone.

They, practically speaking, left her alone.

She was also, incidentally, classified as a refugee from Nazi oppression in case you have any doubts about her right to be in this country.

- Well, even so, living as close to the coast as you do, I'm surprised she wasn't moved earlier this month.

- Moved?

- Well, the security executive moved all non-interned enemy aliens from coastal areas, the only exemptions being for those under 16 and over 60.

- Yes, I am aware of the Home Office directives, Foyle.

My wife was exempted because she is ill. - Ah, right.

- She has, uh, severe angina, heart disease, you know.

- Oh.

Not the, um, not the wisest thing for her to be out riding then, I wouldn't have thought.

No, perhaps not, but she has an extremely strong will.

She never listens to me or her doctor.

(Foyle laughs) (door knocking) Yes?

- Sir.

(gentle music) - [Foyle] Who found her?

- [Officer] Constable Meadows, sir.

Spewed his guts out.

(dramatic music) - [Foyle] How is he?

- Well, he's very shocked.

He's lying down.

I've asked Natalie to take up some tea for him.

- And how are you?

- I'm fine.

And, of course, I'm very upset.

God, I can't imagine why anyone would want to do such a terrible thing.

Poor Greta.

- Did you see her leave?

- No.

I went out quite early walking the dog, and I'm afraid I went quite the other way.

I didn't go anywhere near Park Bottom.

- And, um, how do you know where it happened?

- Well, I assumed.

I mean, Greta always rode the same bridle paths.

She went over through the copse and down past the old barn.

All I meant was that I didn't go that way.

You don't think I had anything to do with it, do you?

- Do you mind if I sit down?

- Look, it's no secret that Greta and I didn't get on.

Anyone will tell you that.

- Well, why was that?

- I didn't like her.

And she didn't like me.

- Sarah, is it true?

- Michael, this is Detective Chief Superintendant Foyle.

- My God, then it is as Natalie told me.

It's unbelievable, are you all right?

- Yes, except that Mr. Foyle here has as good as accused me of having had a hand in it.

- That's absurd!

- Well, I'm accusing no one of anything.

I'm sorry.

You're, um?

- This is Michael Turner.

Michael used to be the family solicitor.

He and I are engaged to be married.

Ah, and what do you do now?

I joined OIC, Operational Intelligence Center at the admiralty.

I'm in London.

- Oh, and what sort of work is that?

- I'm sorry.

It's classified.

- Ah.

Are you, uh, you staying here?

- No.

Mr. Beaumont doesn't approve of my being under the same roof as Sarah before wedlock.

- My father's a very old-fashioned man.

- I'm staying at The Bell, or what's left of it.

I was there this morning, all morning, in case you're wondering.

- On your own?

- What do you need, Mr. Foyle, a signed witness statement?

- Well, your stepmother was killed in a particularly cruel way, Miss Beaumont.

Her head was almost completely taken off by a piano wire which stretched across the route which somebody obviously knew she was going to take.

She was alive when she hit the ground, but then she bled to death, so forgive me if I don't treat this in quite the flippant sort of manner that you seem to want to.

Were you on your own?

- I went out for a short stroll about nine o'clock.

Nobody saw me.

Then I went back to my room, and I did some work.

- Um, did you and Mrs. Beaumont get along?

- Not well.

- That wasn't your fault.

- I don't know why, but she seemed to take against me from the moment that Sarah and I got engaged.

- And how did you meet?

- Funnily enough, Greta introduced us.

- Mrs. Beaumont came to London.

She was interested in the family trust.

This house and quite a large sum of money are in trust to Sarah until she marries.

She didn't like that.

- You see, it would have cut her out.

- She asked me to look into it, and that was when I met Sarah.

It was love at first sight.

- Look, this has got nothing to do with the trust.

There was nothing Greta could do about it anyway.

If you ask me, it's absolutely obvious, it's the bomb.

I mean, it's someone from the village.

It's got to be revenge.

- What about that chap who was here earlier?

Uh, from the village.

I don't know his name.

He was a soldier.

- Oh.

That was Mark Andrews.

He used to be underkeeper on the estate before he enlisted.

(dramatic music) - I'll be a couple of minutes.

- Can I come in?

- No.

(gentle music) Mark Andrews?

- Are you the police?

- [Foyle] Yes.

- This is about her, isn't it, the woman who was killed?

- Yes.

- You better come in.

My uncle and aunt were living here in this house.

Elsie wasn't even German.

She was a nurse.

She went to Wiesbaden back in 1918 helping out after the blockade, and now she's dead.

And my uncle, they're gonna send him to the bloody Isle of Man, which I'd say is the next best thing.

And do you know why?

- They were interned.

- One law for the rich and one for the poor.

Nothing ever changes, does it?

My people are jailed.

Greta Beaumont just swans around horse riding and all the rest of it.

C registration.

Wonder how much that cost.

- Well, she was seen by a tribunal like everyone else.

- But Henry Beaumont was a magistrate, wasn't he?

Not like everyone else.

Friends in high places.

- She was allowed to stay at the manor because she was very ill. - Says who?

- Did you go to see him, uh, to ask for his help?

- Yeah, and he told me to sod off.

There's nothing I can do.

So I left, and I didn't go back.

Been here all day packing up.

I've got to go back to Aldershot, to my unit.

- Might not be possible.

- (laughs) Well, I don't think you can stop me.

Now, if you don't mind, I've got to finish my work.

(dramatic music) - Sir, can I ask you something?

Do you think she was killed because of what happened in the village?

You know, the bomb?

The swastika carved into the tree?

- Well, that could have been done on purpose as a distraction, or indeed, someone could have come upon the body and done it afterwards.

- [Sam] What a dreadful way to kill someone.

- [Foyle] Yes.

Piano wire across the road is something they teach the local defense volunteers if the Germans ever invade.

- [Sam] The girl who was killed, isn't her father in the ARP?

- [Foyle] Yes, and according to the files, he's the same one, it seems, who first reported Elsie and Thomas Kramer to the authorities.

Small world.

- Yes?

- Afternoon.

I'm a police officer.

The name's Foyle.

I was in the pub the other day when it was bombed.

I'm very sorry about your friend.

- So what are you gonna do, arrest the luftwaffe?

- Oh, well, I'm not here about her.

I'm, um, investigating the murder of Mrs. Greta Beaumont.

- Yes?

- I was, first of all, wondering if, um, you'd seen her this morning?

- No.

No, I've been working here all day.

I'm sorry.

I can't help you.

- And, uh, also, there was something you said in the pub the other day to the landlord.

Um, I know all about you.

I know what goes on here.

- Ian Judd.

- What's all that about?

- Terry was 17, underage.

She shouldn't have been working for him.

I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him.

He's a crook.

Everyone knows, and while you're at it, you ask him why he was getting all that money from that chap up at the manor.

- Henry Beaumont?

- Uh, no.

Michael Turner.

The la-di-da solicitor from London.

I saw it with my own eyes, a great pile of cash.

That was never a bed and breakfast.

- Hm.

Well, again, I'm very sorry about Terry.

- Why are you wasting your time with this investigation?

Greta Beaumont was a German woman who got killed.

One more dead German.

Who gives a damn?

(gentle music) - Thank you.

What's happened to the world?

Eh?

Hitler.

If only we'd stood firm back in '38, this war would never have happened.

- Henry, I have to talk to you about her, about Greta.

- Who would do that to her?

Who would do it?

She never hurt anybody.

She wasn't-- - Listen to me, Henry.

I have a friend at county police HQ.

He's a doctor.

I was talking to him just now, and he told me that Foyle has ordered a full postmortem on Greta.

- Well, what do you want me to do?

- You know what you have to do.

We cannot afford to have this man breathing down our necks.

Henry?

- I don't know.

I don't know.

Just leave me alone.

- Good afternoon, Detective Chief Superintendant.

- Good afternoon.

You off back to London then?

- Yup.

Got to get to it.

- Well, not quite yet.

Can I have a word?

- Certainly.

(hammers banging) All right.

I'll tell you the truth, but I'd be grateful if it didn't go any further.

I was seeing someone here.

A lady.

I must have been out of my mind.

I'm in love with Sarah, head over heels, madly in love.

She's, she's beautiful.

She's rich.

She's perfect, but the thing is, Foyle, I'm a man like any other.

And being banned from the house.

- You brought her here.

- Mm.

Eh, not her.

That's the hell of it.

It was the girl behind the bar, Tracey Stephens.

- The, uh, the girl who was killed.

- Yeah, yeah.

It was awful.

But, yeah, she and I were, that was nothing serious.

I gave her 10 bob every now and again, and she seemed to like me, but, oh!

I know this sounds bad, but Trace and me, we were happy with the arrangement.

- And, uh, how long had this been going on for?

- Oh, since the start of the year.

February, March.

It was just casual.

It wasn't regular.

- And Judd found out?

- Mm hm.

- And he was blackmailing you?

- No, I wouldn't go as far as that.

He didn't threaten to tell anyone, you know, Sarah or Henry.

- But, uh, what were you paying him money for then?

- Yeah, I'm just saying that, that it wasn't blackmail.

Look.

I paid him for a double room, all right?

Double room.

No questions asked.

That's all I'm saying is, is that when he found out about Tracey, the price went up.

- Foyle.

About Bob Keegan, I just want to set the record straight.

- No, no, no, no.

Tell me about Tracey Stephens.

- Well, what you want to know?

She was a nice girl.

Very honest, reliable.

- And underage?

There's girls that are 16 or 17 working in bars up and down this country.

These days, you just turn a blind eye.

- Michael Turner?

- Well, if she was earning a few extra bob, where's the harm in it?

Of course, he should be ashamed of himself, but it's none of my business.

- Well, I thought that's exactly what it was.

- I done nothing wrong.

So how did you find out about them?

- Saw the two of them one evening.

Must have been, oh, start of March.

He'd be hanging around outside the pub in his car, and that, well, sort of puzzled me, so I started to keep an eye out, and then one night about, oh, 10 o'clock, I saw her get in with him.

Our Tracey, she got in with him in the back seat.

(door knocking) - Yes?

- It's, uh, 6:30, sir.

Do you mind if I go home?

- No, no, no, no.

- [Sam] You all right to get back?

- Yes, I'll walk.

- Good night, sir.

- Good night.

Whitehall 2127.

Richard, Christopher.

Yeah, fine.

Um, need a favor.

Your files on enemy aliens.

Do you have anything on a Greta Anna Hauptmann?

No, two ns.

Yes, um, from the Sudetenland?

No but I'd do the same for you.

Thank you.

(gentle music) - [Nurse] There you are.

Comfortable?

I think.

- [Foyle] Sergeant Milner.

- Detective Superintendant Foyle.

You asked me to work with you once.

- Yeah.

- And I said no.

- Yes.

- How are you?

- I've been better.

It still itches.

My leg.

I get this itching in my foot, and I reach down to scratch it, and, of course, it's not there.

- You've been through a lot.

I'm sorry.

- You've no idea.

13,000 of us, just 2,000 of them.

We thought it was gonna be a pushover.

But then they started the bombing.

We weren't trained.

We had no supplies.

The only support we were getting, biplanes.

Gloster Gladiator fighters.

Old bangers that looked like they'd been left over from the Great War.

The last thing I remember, well, I don't remember much anymore.

- Well, the doctors seem to think you're doing very well.

- They're getting me a prosthetic.

It's like getting measured for a suit.

Seville Row.

- Well, I'm here to ask you again if you'll work for me.

- Me?

- I need an assistant.

- I'm sorry, sir.

I'm not quite myself anymore.

I don't think I'd be of much good to you.

- Well, I think I should be the judge of that unless, of course, you've got other plans.

I mean, if you intend to spend the rest of the war in bed weaving raffia baskets, it's-- - I haven't thought about the rest of the war.

- I think you should.

I want you to take a look at this.

- [Milner] What is it?

- The case notes for something I'm working on.

I'd appreciate another point of view.

A wealthy woman.

Murdered.

And those are photographs of the scene of the crime.

- [Milner] A swastika.

- Yes, she was German.

Uh, the village she lived in was bombed.

Um, it may, of course, just be revenge, but I'm not so sure.

There are many other reasons, family, marriage, money, and these, I've typed up the interviews so far.

I'd like you to look at them and let me know what you think.

- You type these yourself?

- Well, as I said, I'm short-staffed.

- Well I've got nothing else to do.

- Good.

(birds calling) (dramatic music) (engine revving) (man moaning) (man screaming) (dramatic music) (man moaning) (gentle music) - You know, I never did quite work out the attraction of spending half the day, ankle-deep in mud, in pursuit of a fish too stupid to even come near us.

- Andrew, just never underestimate the intelligence of a trout, and they can hear you from 40 feet away, so do be quiet.

- The must have heard me coming because I've been here two hours and haven't seen a thing.

- Oh!

- Oh, at last.

- Whoa, what did I tell you?

See?

What have we got here?

Ohh!

Here we go.

Got that?

- [Andrew] What is it, Dad?

A starter?

- You're very difficult to please, Andrew.

It's a main course.

It's perfect.

Look at it go.

(both laughing) Oh, right.

Um, got everything?

- Yes, I think so.

- Good.

Well, you better not keep the taxi waiting.

- Yeah.

I'll write.

- Well you said that when you went off to Oxford.

- This time, I mean it.

- Here.

A bit of spending money.

- Dad.

- No.

A round in the officer's mess, hm?

- I'll miss you.

- Yeah.

Look after yourself.

(car engine puttering) (gentle music) - Sir.

There's been another murder.

(gentle music) It's Judd.

How was he killed?

- He's been hit by something, a rock, a car.

- He lived over the pub.

He had rooms.

These are his keys.

- [Foyle] Where'd you get those?

- Out of his pocket.

Oh, well done.

- He didn't have much of a life, by the look of it, no wife, no children, no photographs.

What are we looking for?

- We're looking for the reason he was killed.

- Well, he was blackmailing Michael Turner.

- Well, no.

I mean, blackmailers get killed when the people they're blackmailing either can't or won't pay, but Turner was happy to pay, so he says.

I mean, it was a business arrangement.

- [Sam] Well, maybe he was lying.

- Well, maybe he was.

Maybe he hated Judd.

The point is, we knew all about this affair with Tracey Stephens.

It was no secret.

So why kill him now?

- [Sam] But if it wasn't him, who was it?

- Well, the man was a crook.

Got to assume he had enemies.

He was working with Keegan, was extorting money from Turner.

He was profiteering.

He was in ration book fraud, underage drinking.

Uh-oh.

- What is it?

Money?

- [Foyle] Over 200 pounds here.

- How could he have earned as much as that?

- Well, certainly not by ration book fraud, that's for sure.

- Oh, lord.

- What?

- I forgot to give you this.

- Sam!

- I'm sorry, sir, but dad always said I had a memory like a sieve.

Don't sigh, you git.

Look, this is important.

- Sorry.

- [Foyle] Dr. Groves.

- I'm afraid I'm just leaving.

They're burying the Stephens girl.

I thought I ought to be there.

- Oh, I won't keep you a minute.

Are you Greta Beaumont's doctor?

- Yes.

- She was registered with the local police, C registration, virtually unrestricted.

Even so, she should have been moved when the Home Office started the rearrest of aliens in all coastal districts earlier this month, and yet she wasn't, was she?

She was exempted.

Apparently, she had a heart condition?

- I can't comment on that.

- Oh, it wasn't you who diagnosed severe angina in Mrs. Beaumont?

The postmortem is showing that she was as healthy as you and me.

She didn't have angina at all, which means the medical report was false, but it wasn't you who wrote the report?

- I think you're trespassing on doctor patient confidentiality.

- Oh.

Well, I can have a copy of the report though, with the name of the doctor who signed it in 24 hours.

- Then that's what you'll have to do.

I have nothing to say.

(dramatic music) - [Reverend] He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live, and whosoever.

- It could have been us.

That's her father.

You don't think.

Well, if there was anyone in the village with a grudge against the Germans.

- [Reverend] We brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we shall carry nothing out.

The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away.

(dramatic music) (people chattering) - Mr. Stephens, um, forgive me.

I'm a police officer and was in the pub the other day when it was hit.

I met your daughter very briefly.

I'm very sorry.

- 17 years old.

- Yes.

- [Mr. Stephens] You're gonna tell me she shouldn't have been working there.

I know that.

She was saving up the money, her and Ray.

They'd have been married within a year.

- Oh, no.

- And now, I hate the Germans.

I hate the bloody Germans.

That's why you're here, isn't it?

You're looking into the death of that German woman.

Well, she got what's coming to her.

She didn't belong here and out flouting the law as much as she liked, riding, driving her car, doing as she pleased.

You saw what they did to my Tracey.

I'm glad someone did for her.

- She drove.

(dramatic music) (somber music) - What are you doing?

Oh, it's you, Mr. Foyle.

- Was this your stepmother's?

- No, actually, it's daddy's.

- Ah.

- Not that we ever use it anymore.

It hasn't been out of the garage for about three months.

- Oh, these look a little more recent than that, don't you think?

- Oh, it's the gardener.

He takes it out to clean it.

- Ah.

- Why are you here?

- You mentioned a family trust.

- Yes.

It's very simple.

This house, the land, and all the money that goes with it passes down to the first in line on their marriage.

Been that way for centuries.

- And the first in line is um, - Me.

So when Michael and I get married, it's all ours.

- So what would have happened to your father and Greta?

- We hadn't really talked about it.

They could've stayed here, or there are plenty of cottages on the estate.

Greta wasn't at all happy with the arrangements, so last year, she went up to London to the solicitor's, and funnily enough, that's how I met Michael, because she brought him down here working on the entails and the codicils and all that sort of stuff.

- Ah.

So you first started going out together in?

- In spring.

- [Foyle] In the spring.

- Greta was horrified, but of course she knew she'd lose control of the manor as soon as I was married.

Obviously, that's what she had against him.

- Love at first sight.

- That's what Michael said, and he's right.

We're perfectly suited.

- Uh, what are you doing here?

Do you know who killed her?

- Not yet, no.

Uh, but I'm afraid there was another death in the village last night, a hit-and-run victim, it seems, Ian Judd.

- Judd?

- He was the landlord at The Bell.

- Greta knew him.

Couldn't stand the man.

- Was he murdered?

- I'm afraid so.

Thank you for your time.

- Useless.

- I think he's doing his best.

- He doesn't know anything.

Time he moved on.

(phone ringing) - You don't give up, do you, Foyle?

Despite what I told you, you still persist in these transfer requests, half a dozen more the very day you left this office.

I saw you posting them from the window.

Well it looks as if, on this occasion, you may, in fact, have got your own way.

You still want to be involved in the war effort?

Well, I don't like losing you, but after due reflection, I've decided that if you're so damn determined, as it happens, something has come up that might just suit you.

It's a senior position in the Cabinet Office reporting directly to General Ismay.

- You've put me forward?

- Ismay wants you to report to him in Whitehall at 0900 hours tomorrow morning.

- I can't do that.

- What?

- I can't start yet.

- Foyle, am I getting through to you?

This is the Cabinet Office.

They won't shilly-shally around just to suit you.

- Well, I'm investigating a murder.

- The German woman?

Just get your case notes typed up and send them to me.

- No, I'm sorry, I can't stop now.

- What are you talking about?

I'm offering you exactly what you requested here in this office and in almost a dozen letters.

You said it yourself, what does it matter, one murder?

- Two, actually, almost certainly connected.

- You want me to tell General Ismay you're busy?

- I'd like you to ask him to wait.

- I doubt that is a possibility.

- Then I'm sorry.

- Foyle, if you walk out of that door, you will remain a policeman not just for the duration of the war, but until the day you retire.

You won't get a second chance.

- The German woman was protected by influential friends, and it's still possible that it was those friends who wanted her dead.

She was as fit as you or me, and yet the family doctor lied about an angina condition on her medical report to prevent her from being interned.

- So have you arrested him, this doctor?

- No, because he was only part of it.

- Are you suggesting there was a conspiracy?

- I'm suggesting that Henry Beaumont, her husband, is rich and influential and would, I imagine, find it very easy to expect favors.

Greta Beaumont went before a tribunal last February.

She was given C registration and was classified as a refugee from Nazi oppression.

Greta Anna Hauptmann, her maiden name, isn't exactly your classic refugee.

For a start, she has two brothers still in Germany.

One of them served under Von Falkenhorst in Norway, and the other is a ranking officer in the Abwehr in Berlin, which should have led to her being interned immediately, and the committee that gave her C registration, must have been blind, idiotic, corrupt, or all three,.

But, of course, you know all of this, don't you, because you were the chairman of the committee.

(dramatic music) - Foyle, we can work this out.

- Well, I don't think so.

(door bangs) (gentle music) Wait here, will you?

Mr. Kramer.

- I don't know you.

- No, I'm a police officer.

The name's Foyle.

- You have no uniform?

- I'm a detective.

Would you like to sit down?

I met your nephew Mark.

- Is he in trouble?

- No, uh, but he brought my attention to what's happened to you, and I'm here to help.

- How?

- I've arranged a special dispensation for you.

You don't have to stay here any longer.

You can go home.

- Why do you want to do this for me, Mr. Foyle?

- Well, what happened to you and to your wife was wrong, and I'm very sorry.

- You don't think that it's, perhaps, too late?

- Well, Mr. Kramer, we're at war, and there are gonna be casualties, and some of them are going to be innocent like your wife.

I couldn't do anything to help her, but I can do something to help you.

- [Man] Anything he wants.

(people chattering) - Do you want to leave, or don't you?

- I want to leave.

- [Foyle] Do you know, Sam, I think we got it wrong.

- The case?

- No.

Enemy aliens.

- I was reading The Mail.

They were saying that Norway would never have fallen if it hadn't been for the Germans and their friends inside the country, Quisling, people like that.

- The Mail.

Hmph.

- Well it makes you think, doesn't it?

- Well Fleet Street would rather you didn't think.

That's the whole point.

I mean, these people have fled their own country, a step ahead of concentration camps and God knows what.

They've had to give up everything, their homes, their possessions, and if getting out of a country is hard enough, getting into another one is even worse.

They have to be sponsored.

There's the British Consul, port immigration, tribunals, the local police, and when they finally do settle down, what do we do?

We arrest them and lock them up again.

- Would you have helped Greta Beaumont?

- Well, I wouldn't have broken the law.

(gentle music) (man laughs) - There's not a lot of choice in the hospital library.

- Oh, I see.

Have you tried Graham Greene?

Brighton Rock's very good.

You'd like that.

I'll bring it in.

- Thank you.

My wife said she'd bring something in.

She came yesterday, but she forgot the book.

Today she forgot to come at all.

- Oh.

Did you read the notes?

- Yes, I read those.

- And?

- I prefer your prose style.

- Oh, right.

Well, anything occur to you?

- Why are you doing this, sir?

Do you really need my help, or do you just feel sorry for me?

- Well, I'm trying to find a killer, Milner.

I don't have time for charity.

I've explained to you why I'm here.

You either want to help or you don't.

- What I don't understand is, what did Mrs. Beaumont have against Michael Turner?

If there was something she didn't like about him, why didn't she come out and say what it was?

- Good question.

- Or was it all about money, the family trust?

Sarah gets married, Henry and Greta lose.

That doesn't add up.

From what you say, Henry Beaumont was the one that ruled the roost, and he was happy for the wedding to go ahead, anyway.

No.

The key to this is Greta and Michael Turner.

What did she know that she wasn't saying?

What was it that made her afraid?

- Any ideas?

- Eh, just one, Ian Judd.

- Yes, Greta had something against him, too, according to Henry.

- How did she even know him?

Judd saw Turner with Tracey Stephens.

That was when he started blackmailing him.

Maybe Judd went to Greta with what he knew, what he'd seen outside the pub.

By the way, was there a moon that night?

- Another good question.

Well done.

Thank you.

- [Henry] Why are you back here again?

Do you know who killed my wife?

- I'd just like, uh, one or two more details about the family trust.

- What about it?

- [Foyle] It's the reason your wife went to London.

- She couldn't bear the idea of my inheriting.

- That's not true.

She was meddling, yes, but I knew she wouldn't get anywhere.

These things are written in stone.

- And when did she start, um, making these inquiries?

- About, oh, um, October, November last year.

- Would you say she, um, became obsessive about it?

- I would say that she spent a devil of a lot of time on it.

- Mm hm.

And Michael Turner was the solicitor responsible for answering her questions.

- Until he joined the admiralty.

- Yes.

- All right.

Did your wife and yourself have separate banking arrangements?

- I don't see what damn business that is of yours.

- [Sarah] Daddy, I, - Did you give her an allowance?

She had a personal allowance and a separate allowance for the housekeeping, yes.

- And did she ask for any money in excess of that?

- When?

- Recently, in the weeks before her death.

- Once or twice, a few times, but the prices now, food, petrol, you have to pay.

- Right.

Thank you.

- Uh-huh.

- How did you get Dr. Groves to lie about your wife?

- I paid him, pure and simple.

- And Summers?

- Oh, we go back a long way.

- And did you know about Greta's family?

- The brothers?

- Yes.

- Yes, of course I do, but that's not the point.

I knew her.

That's why I was prepared to lie for her, to break the law for her.

She wasn't the enemy.

(gentle music) I loved her, Detective Chief Superintendant.

I'd do it again.

(dramatic music) - Glad to see you, sergeant.

- Mr. Foyle.

- Oh.

- Good to see you.

Sorry to have kept you waiting.

- That's perfectly all right.

- How can I help you?

- Is there somewhere we can speak?

- So what can I do for you?

- Um well, you could tell me the truth.

- I thought I already had.

- No, you were lying.

- Well, yes, all right.

I'll come clean.

Judd was blackmailing me.

Is that what you wanted to hear?

Yeah, I was willing to pay.

I mean, he wasn't asking that much, but now that he's dead, well, might as well call a spade a spade.

- How did you know he was dead?

- Sarah told me.

- Oh.

No, you're still lying.

Um, Judd saw you and Tracey Stephens together, and you paid him to keep silent isn't true.

- That is true.

He told you himself.

- Oh, well, he was lying, as well.

- [Ian] Saw the two of them one evening.

Must have been, oh, start of March.

He'd been hanging around outside the pub in his car.

That, well, sort of puzzled me, so I started to keep an eye out, and then one night about, oh, 10 o'clock, I saw her get in with him, our Tracey.

That's who he'd been waiting for.

She got in with him, the back seat.

- It was pitch-black.

There was a blackout.

There wasn't a moon.

He wasn't able to see you and Tracey Stephens.

- Of course he saw us.

How else would he have known about it?

- It wasn't even Tracey Stephens you were with.

You didn't even know her.

All you knew was that she'd been killed by the bomb and couldn't answer for herself, and you used her.

She wasn't the sort of girl who'd leap into bed with just anybody for 10 bob.

She was saving up to get married.

She was going to marry her sweetheart from the greengrocer's.

I met her parents.

They weren't the sort of people who'd let their daughter behave like that.

Everything you said about her was a desecration.

- Judd saw us.

- No, You told Judd to say he'd seen her, and he agreed to keep you on the hook because after you'd married Sarah Beaumont, you'd be very wealthy, and then he'd really start making you pay because he knew who you'd really met in the car park.

Greta.

(Greta moaning) - My mother-in-law?

- Well, she wasn't your prospective mother-in-law when you first met in October, five whole months before you met Sarah, which is why you were so very keen to interrupt her when she tried to tell me about it.

- Funnily enough, Greta introduced us-- - Mrs. Beaumont came to London.

She was interested in the family trust.

- You didn't want me to know it was Greta who'd introduced you, and no wonder she didn't want the marriage to go ahead, and of course she couldn't tell her husband why not.

She knew you for the, uh, for the sort of person that you really are.

You start coming to the house.

You're still seeing Greta at The Bell, but the next thing she knows, you've dumped her.

You've taken the money, the stepdaughter, the lot, and in the end, you had to kill her because she threatened you once too often.

Maybe she cared more for Sarah than anybody thought.

Maybe she was prepared to destroy her own marriage to keep Sarah from you.

So you got rid of her, leaving the swastika behind as a diversion.

And Judd was blackmailing Greta as well as you, but of course you weren't gonna spend the rest of your life paying him off, so he had to go, too.

(man screaming) (dramatic music) - All right.

- Is that a confession?

- Why not?

You seem to have it all worked out.

But listen to me, Foyle.

There are 36 of us working here at OIC.

Right now we're putting together a cryptanalysis service for the Royal Navy.

Do you have any idea how vital it may be?

Right now we have no cryptanalysis.

We're using antiquated manual cipher tables.

We have no air reconnaissance, no RDF.

We failed in Norway because we had no advance warning of German fleet movements.

Even worse now, they can knock our ships out one by one.

There's nothing we can do about it because although they're intercepting all our operational and administrative ciphers, we haven't the faintest idea where they are.

- What's this got to do with Greta Beaumont?

- Everything.

Yes, I admit I killed her.

It was just like you said.

I fell for her.

We began an affair.

Then I met Sarah.

But have you any idea how important I am to the work we're doing here?

Six months work.

I'm actually leading the team here.

Ask Rear Admiral Clayton.

Ask Sir Norman Denning.

What good is it gonna do taking me out of here and throwing me in prison?

What good is it gonna do hanging me?

It would set back our work here months and that could cost us another ship.

Hundreds of lives.

Are you ready to have that on your conscience, Detective Chief Superintendant?

Is it really worth the price?

She was only a German woman.

She was the enemy.

- Judd?

- Blackmailer, just like you said.

So.

You have to take the wider view.

This is war.

(dramatic music) - [Sam] Are they gonna hang him?

- [Foyle] Probably.

- [Sam] Do you mind if I ask you a question?

Weren't you tempted to let him go?

- Yes.

Yes, I was.

Hanging him is not gonna do anybody much good, and he had a point, I suppose, but, um, I'm a policeman.

I'm here to do a job.

Simple as that.

If I start bending the rules, I might as well pack it in.

- Yes, but she was a German.

- Well, that doesn't make any difference at all.

She's a human being.

She was murdered.

Murder is murder.

You stop believing that, and we might as well not be fighting a war because you end up like the Nazis.

(gentle music) - Sir.

- Morning, sergeant.

- Sir.

- Thought you might like a lift.