King's Head pub. Jack Archer sits at the bar wearing a Royal Engineers uniform.
CAPTION: JUNE 1941
Jack drains what's left of his pint of beer as a man in a suit, Derek Woodgate, watches.
Jack: Same again, then?
Derek: I dunno, Jack.
Jack: Come on, mate. It's only half past nine.
Derek: And I have to be up at six.
Jack: Bloody shipyard! You sit on your backside all day. What have you got to worry about? Ted, same again.
He signals the bartender, Ted Roberts.
Ted: Come on, gentlemen. You've had enough to drink. Time you were getting home, mmm?
Derek: He's right, Jack. Come on. I'll walk you home.
He lays a hand on Jack's shoulder.
Jack: Get off me!
Jack throws him off aggressively, tossing his pint glass down to shatter on the floor. It startles a group of girls. Sam is sitting among them, in civilian dress.
Sam: Oh!
Derek: Jack.
Jack: I don't need you to walk me home. I'm not a girl. I'm not a child.
Derek: Jack, that's not what I meant.
Jack jumps to his feet.
Jack: What? You think I'm scared of the dark, then? Eh?
He gives Derek a shove.
Ted: I'll have no fighting in here. You leave quiet, or I'll call the law.
Jack: Yeah? I'm not scared of them. I'm not scared of nothing!
Derek: Come on, Jack. Let's just go.
Jack: Get off me.
He shoves Derek back again and pulls a p*stol out to point at him.
Ted: Bloody hell!
Jack: You don't know what's like to be scared, Derek. You got a nice, cushy number. Shop steward. Suppose someone put a b*llet right between your eyes.
Ted: (Fetch a copper.)
A woman behind the bar with Ted hurries off.
Derek: Where the hell did you get that from, Jack? Come on. Put it down.
Jack: Ticking clock, Derek.
Sam stands up from her table.
Jack: Now you know what it feels like. Ten, nine, eight-
Derek: Stop it, Jack.
Sam comes over to the two of them.
Sam: Excuse me.
Jack: Scram.
Sam: I'm with the police, actually.
Ted: Police?
Sam: Well, sort of. I was having a drink, and I really think you should put that down.
Jack: Why don't you make me?
He swings the g*n around to point at Sam.
Sam: You're not going to sh**t anybody. We're all on the same side. So why don't you put the g*n down and we'll all sit and talk it through over another beer?
Ted: He is not having any more.
Sam: Come on. You don't want to get in any more trouble, do you? Give me the g*n.
Derek: Do as she says, Jack. Come on.
Jack: I'm just trying to make a point. That's all.
Sam: Yes, I think, I think you've made your point.
She takes the g*n and everyone sighs in relief. At that moment, the pub door opens.
Ted: That's him. He was waving a g*n.
A uniformed policeman takes hold of Jack.
Policeman: You'd better come with me.
Derek: He didn't mean anything.
Policeman: What's your name?
Derek: His name's Jack Archer.
Policeman: REs are you? Come on, then.
Derek: I'll come, too.
Policeman: And who are you?
Derek: I'm his mate. Woodgate. Derek Woodgate.
Ted: That was very brave of you, miss. Taking him on like that!
Sam: Not really. I think he was just showing off.
She picks up the g*n.
Sam: And I don't even think it's loaded.
She points it away and pulls the trigger. A b*llet shatters a lamp.
Sam: Er... Oh.
She sets the g*n back down and lets out a breath.
OPENING CREDITS
Police station. Assistant Commissioner Rose approaches Sergeant Rivers at the front desk.
Rose: Good morning. Assistant Commissioner Rose for Detective Chief Superintendent Foyle.
Rivers: Is he expecting you, sir?
Rose: Whether he's expecting me or not is neither here nor there. Can you show me to his office?
Rivers: Right this way, sir.
He leads Rose through and knocks on Foyle's door, then opens it.
Rose: Foyle.
Foyle: Commissioner.
Rose: I hope I'm not interrupting.
Foyle: Er, well, um, since you mention it there are better moments, but-
Rose: Oh, it's busy?
Foyle: Yes.
Rose: What with?
Foyle: Well, erm, there's a group, er, operating along the coast here, stealing anything from tyres to, er, steel and timber, and selling it on to private contractors.
Rose: Oh, nothing too important. I can't see the w*r effort being harmed by the loss of a few tyres.
Foyle: Wouldn't exactly agree, sir.
Rose: Wouldn't you?
Foyle: Er, no, I wouldn't. Atlantic convoys, for example, are suffering, er, since shipyards can't patch up vessels, er, when welding plates have gone missing. Trains carrying troops and supplies, er, can't run when there are no materials for basic repairs. Petty crime, perhaps, but it's, erm, it's having a very significant effect on the w*r effort.
Rose: Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. All right. All right. What are you gonna do about it, mmm?
Foyle: Er, well, we've managed to set up a company of builder's merchants, erm, operated by ourselves. Er, it's taken us three months to do it.
Rose: I'm sure you can delegate. Something else has come up and I want you to take charge of it personally.
He sits down and pulls a document out of a folder.
Rose: Have you heard of the People's Convention?
Foyle sits down too.
Foyle: Er, left-wing intellectuals, erm, based in London...
Rose: There's nothing intellectual about them. They're group of Communist agitators, eh, stirring up trouble for no reason at all. They're talking about people's government, people's peace. Dangerous Fifth Column nonsense.
Foyle: Though not exactly illegal as far as I'm aware.
Rose: One of their leaders is a man called Raymond Carter. Now, I've had word he's coming down this way. He's booked into the Regency Hotel here in Hastings with his fiancée. I want you to keep an eye on him.
Foyle: Bit short on time, sir. It's, erm-
Rose: I'm the one who decides what you do with your time. Carter's talking to trade unionists, local councillors. Look here, you're the one talking about railway lines and shipyards. He's, he's a Bolshie firebrand. He could do untold damage, disrupting day-to-day work with his ideas.
Foyle: Well, I can't stop him having meetings.
Rose: Well, you... you can arrest him on sedition if the need arises.
Foyle: I remember the need arising to arrest me on sedition not so very long ago.
Rose: Yes. Well... it was a misunderstanding, eh?
Foyle: Isn't this?
Rose: That's what I want you to look into. Keep an eye on him. See who he meets. That sort of thing. Then you can report back.
Foyle: And, er, what do you that suggest I do with everything else?
Rose: This comes first.
Builder's yard. Milner comes out of a building dressed in civilian clothes. Another undercover office is loading a van.
Undercover Officer: Paul.
He nods Milner towards a man, William Mason, sitting on the steps opposite. Milner approaches him.
Milner: Can I help you?
Mason: You're the guvnor, right?
Milner: That's right.
Mason: I got word I might be able to help you out.
Milner: I'm sorry, I don't have any vacancies.
Mason: I'm not looking for a job.
Milner: Then how can you help me?
Mason: Are you looking for materials?
Milner: Everyone's looking for materials.
Mason: Well, not everyone's looking in the right place.
Milner takes him through into a workshop.
Mason: What are you after?
Milner glances at a clipboard.
Milner: I've got a job over in Eastbourne. Private air-raid shelter. We've dug the hole, but we need to shore it up, put the roof on. Bits and bobs. Have a look.
He gives Mason the clipboard.
Mason: I can get all of this.
Milner: Where from?
Mason: Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies. That's how the song goes.
Milner takes a box out of a drawer.
Milner: All right. How much?
Mason: That's better. £15 up front. And £15 more when I deliver.
Milner: £15 is a lot of money to give somebody I've never met before. How do I know that I can trust you?
Mason: Now you're asking silly questions again.
Milner: All right. Give me your name. You know my name. I think it should work both ways.
Mason: My name's Kimble. Ian Kimble.
Milner gives him the money.
Milner: How long will it take?
Mason: We can do it tonight. You'll need a lorry. After work. Eight o'clock, all right? The old transformer factory at the end of Blackwood Lane.
Milner: Yep, I'll know. I'll be there.
Mason: Bring the rest of the money, and I don't want to see anyone with you.
Milner: I'll need someone to help me carry the stuff.
Mason: One man. One lorry. That's all you'll need.
Mason leaves. Milner nods to the undercover officer.
Milner: See where he goes.
Talbot Brothers shipyard. A factory siren blows and people file out. Mason stands speaking with a couple of sailors. The undercover officer watches as he heads into one of the buildings.
Police station. Sam walks in to the reception area and Rivers calls out to her as she passes the front desk.
Rivers: Miss Stewart. I wonder if I could have a word?
Sam: Don't tell me. I've parked in front of the entrance again.
Rivers: No, it's nothing like that. No, it's about that business the other night at The King's Head.
Sam: What?
Rivers: Young lad with a g*n.
Sam: Oh. How did you hear about that?
Rivers: Didn't you get the invitation? Jack Archer.
Sam: He's the one marrying Gwen?
Rivers: Yes.
Sam: I've had his name on my mantelpiece. I didn't realise it was that Jack Archer.
Rivers: They were at school together. They've always been sweethearts.
Sam: Oh, dear. It's a bit embarrassing, isn't it?
Rivers: You can say that again.
Sam: Well... he was bit drunk, that's all.
Rivers: I know that. He's a good lad really. And that's why I was wondering if you'd be prepared to put in a word for him. You were there. You know he wasn't really gonna hurt anyone.
Sam: You want me to go to court?
Rivers: I just thought if you went up before the magistrate, you know, as a witness...
Sam: I'd be glad to. How is Gwen? I haven't seen her for a while.
Rivers: Oh, she's been working. That's why. What with this wedding!
Sam: He's a sapper. I suppose that must put him under a lot of pressure.
Rivers: Oh, yes. It certainly does.
Playground. A sign has been set up saying "Keep Clear, Unexploded b*mb". In a pit down in the ground, Jack is hammering a wooden barrier in place around the b*mb, while Captain Ralph Hammond bends over it.
Jack: It's a fifteen.
Hammond: Mm-hmm.
Jack: You done the ring?
Hammond: Yep.
Jack: It's a straight Crabtree, then.
Hammond: Yes.
Jack: And it's sunny side up. Bit of luck that.
Hammond: Yes, Jack. This is a really marvellously lucky day. I'm stuck in the mud in a big bloody hole with you and a b*mb when I could be really unlucky and be taking Margaret Lockwood out to tea.
Up above, another sapper, Ernie Jones, is leaning on their car in front of the gathered crowd. An air-raid warden comes up behind him.
Warden: Looks like a bad one. What is it, then? 2,000lbs?
Ernie doesn't respond.
Pit. Jack is still hammering at the wooden barrier.
Hammond: Have you finished?
Jack: Yep.
Hammond: Then why don't you get the hell out of here and leave me to get on with it?
Jack: Right, sir.
Jack climbs a ladder back out of the pit. He stops at the top and looks down at Hammond before jogging away.
By the car, the warden is still standing with Ernie.
Warden: Want me to move these people back a bit? I can do that if you want.
Jack arrives to join them.
Warden: Everything all right, then?
Jack: What?
Warden: Got the fuse out yet?
Jack lights Ernie's cigarette for him.
Jack: Ernie, get the char up.
Ernie looks up at him, and Jack makes a drinking motion. Ernie nods and moves away.
Warden: He doesn't talk much.
Jack: That's 'cause he doesn't hear much. That's why.
He heads around to the back of the car where Ernie is making the tea, and the warden walks round the other side. A group of other sappers are waiting in the back of a lorry behind the car.
Warden: Typical bloody Jerry, dropping a b*mb in a children's playground.
Woman: Have you finished, then?
Warden: I bet they meant it as well. How long will this take?
Jack shrugs.
Pit. Hammond is struggling to twist a ring that forms part of the b*mb mechanism. He goes to a bag hanging nearby and takes out a hammer and chisel. With gentle blows of the chisel he manages to loosen it. He slots a tool into some notches in the ring, and this time manages to get it to turn. He pulls the ring out and sets it aside, then screws a clamp onto the cylinder beneath. He checks his watch, then wipes sweat from his face.
Regency Hotel. Raymond Carter and his fiancée Lucinda Sheridan are just getting out of their car in front of the hotel. The bellboy goes to take their cases.
Carter: Oh, no, no, no, thank you. That's very kind of you, but I can manage it myself.
He starts up the steps with the suitcases.
Lucinda: Raymond, really!
Carter: I think I can carry my own cases, darling. I certainly don't need the help of a fourteen-year-old boy.
Lucinda: You do have to make a point about everything.
Carter: Of course.
They enter the hotel.
Hotel reception area. Foyle is speaking with the receptionist at the front desk.
Receptionist: Oh, yes. A Mr and Mrs Carter. They telephoned this morning. But they've not arrived yet.
Foyle: I see. Thank you.
He goes to leave just as Carter and Lucinda reach the front desk.
Carter: Good afternoon. My name's Raymond Carter. I made a reservation.
Receptionist: Oh, yes, sir. This gentleman was just asking for you.
Carter: Oh, yes?
Foyle: Yes, how do you do. The name's Foyle. Erm, but, er, this can wait.
Carter: I don't think we've met.
Foyle: No. You're right. We haven't.
Lucinda: He's a policeman, I think.
Foyle: That's right.
Carter: Ah. Here to check up on me already. That's very quick.
Foyle: No. I was just, erm, making sure you'd arrived safely.
Carter: Well, I think you were just making sure I'd arrived. Not quite the same thing. I hope you don't mind if I don't talk to you right now. We've had a rather beastly journey. I need a wash and brush-up, as does my wife.
Foyle: Of course.
He looks at Lucinda's hand and sees she's not wearing a wedding ring.
Lucinda: Why don't you join us for lunch tomorrow, Mr Foyle? I'm sure you'll want to know what we're up to, and we'll be very glad to tell you all.
Carter: That's a splendid idea. Shall we say one o'clock?
Foyle: Kind of you. Thank you.
He turns to leave.
Playground. The crowd murmur among themselves. Down in the pit, Hammond ties a string to the clamp that he just fixed in place. He climbs a few steps up the ladder then slowly hauls the string in, pulling the cylinder out.
Up above, a woman reassures her young daughter.
Mother: (Look up at me. Yeah? Okay.)
The girl nods.
Pit. Hammond carefully picks up the cylinder and unscrews the fuse from it. He catches the fuse and lets out a relieved breath.
Up above, the crowd watch as Hammond comes up the ladder.
Sapper: There he is, look.
Woman: Oh!
Sapper: He's got it.
Sapper 2: Well done, sir!
Hammond: Over to you, chaps.
He rounds the back of the van and hands the cylinder to Jack.
Hammond: There she is.
Jack: All right.
Warden: Got the fuse, then?
Hammond: Yep.
He gives Jack the fuse as well.
Warden: The gaine.
Hammond: That's what it's called.
He turns to the group of sappers.
Hammond: Right. You can pull her out now.
Warden: Hope you're not gonna forget my clearance certificate.
Hammond: No. Glad you mentioned it. Completely slipped my mind.
He pulls out a pen and taps Ernie on the back, making a writing gesture. Ernie hands him the certificate in Hammond leans on his back to write.
Hammond: Thank you.
An old woman, Brenda Wilson, approaches them from the crowd.
Brenda: Excuse me.
Hammond: Yes.
Brenda: My name's Brenda Wilson. I live here.
Hammond: Mm-hmm.
Brenda: Just down the road. And I want you to know I think what you do really is the tops.
Hammond: Thanks.
Brenda: Er, me and the others we've had a whip round. Just to show we're grateful. Hold your hand out.
She tips some money from her purse into his palm.
Brenda: Ah. Here we are. You have a drink on us.
Hammond: Thank you. We'll do that.
The crowd all clap.
Warden: Are you allowed to keep that, then?
Hammond: Nope. All money received has to be paid into the Royal Engineers Association bank. I'll send you the receipt.
He and Jack head back round to the front of the car.
Hammond: Twerp!
Jack laughs as they get in.
Police station. Foyle is heading back to his office. Milner steps out of his own office as he approaches.
Milner: Sir, I think our luck's finally changed. A man called Ian Kimble came to see me this afternoon. He hasn't got a record, but I had him followed and went back to Talbot's yard.
Foyle: Well, plenty of stuff there to get his hands on.
They head into Foyle's office.
Milner: I got the impression that, er, he was working on his own, though. I don't think he's part of a g*ng.
Foyle: Is he on their payroll?
Milner: I didn't want to check him out just in case he found out that we were onto him.
Foyle: Right.
Milner: We're meeting this evening.
Foyle: Can you, erm, handle this?
Milner: Yes, sir. I don't see why not.
Foyle: Right. I'll be at home if you need me.
Milner: I'm sure we won't, sir.
Street corner. Jack and Gwen Rivers are walking hand-in-hand.
Jack: It was a thousand kilos underneath the playground off the high street.
Gwen: Why hadn't it gone off?
Jack: Dunno. Probably too low, or it could have been a dodgy fuse. Bloody Jerries! They call themselves the master race and they can't even make a decent b*mb.
Gwen: I wish you didn't have to do it.
Jack: If I had a quid for every time you said that.
Gwen: You should transfer.
Jack: Look, they won't even consider it for another month. Till then there's only one way out. At least it's quick and painless.
Gwen: Don't say that! Don't ever say that.
Jack: Maybe they'll lock me up. Mr Hammond says that's what I'm hoping for.
Gwen: Why did you do it, Jack? And why were you carrying a g*n?
They stop in front of the steps up to Gwen's house.
Jack: A mate gave it to me. He got it off a German NCO at Dunkirk. He said it'd bring me luck.
Gwen: It's done nothing of the sort.
Jack: I'm still in one piece, aren't I?
Sergeant Rivers arrives, wheeling his bicycle.
Rivers: Evening, Jack.
Jack: Mr Rivers.
Rivers: You coming in for tea, then?
Jack: Er, no, sir. Thanks all the same.
Rivers: You're not going out boozing?
Gwen: Dad!
Jack: No. I'm gonna go home and get an early night.
Jack: Will you be at court tomorrow?
Gwen: Course I'll be there.
Rivers: You taking time off work?
Gwen: They gave me the morning off, Dad. I'm not going to let him be there on his own.
Rivers: Oh, right. Oh. See you inside, then. Night, Jack.
Jack: Night, sir.
Gwen: I told them it was my time of the month.
Jack: Well, I'll see you, then.
Gwen: I don't know how you could do it. Pulling out a g*n?
Jack: Well, it was a mascot. Didn't even know it was loaded.
Gwen: You're an idiot, Jack Archer.
Jack: Yeah?
They kiss, then Jack looks up the steps to check if Rivers is watching.
Blackwood Lane. Milner and the other undercover officer drive up to the old factory in the their builder's van. Milner enters the factory. Mason watches from the mezzanine level above for a few moments.
Mason: How many of you are there?
Milner: Just me and the driver.
Mason: I wanna see both of you.
The same undercover officer as before walks in from outside. Mason starts down the stairs.
Mason: I've got everything you want. Wood. Steel. Girders. Joists. The lot.
Milner: You bring it here by yourself?
Mason: What's it matter to you? Where's the dosh?
Milner: I'm afraid I don't have the money, Mr Kimble. We're police officers and you're under arrest.
Mason: What? You lousy bleeder!
He pulls out a g*n and aims it at Milner.
Mason: You stay where you are.
Milner: Fire that and you'll hang.
Mason: Back off!
Milner: Put it down.
Mason fires, grazing Milner's left arm. He drops to the ground and the driver checks on him as Mason runs back up the stairs.
Undercover Officer: Get after him!
Uniformed officers run into the factory and chase after Mason. He runs through the factory and down another set of stairs. Mason leaves the stairwell by a door at the bottom. A policeman arrives a few moments later, but heads off in the wrong direction.
Sam and Foyle drive up to the entrance to the Talbot yard. A sailor on guard duty approaches their car.
Sam: This is Chief Superintendent Foyle for Mr Talbot.
He checks a list then heads back towards the gate, calling out to his fellow guard.
Sailor: Alf!
Alf: Righto.
They open the gate and the car drives through.
Talbot Brothers' office. Foyle enters the office, where brothers Mark and Peter Talbot are waiting.
Mark: Very nice to meet you again, Mr Foyle.
Foyle: Yes. It was, erm-
Mark: It was Sibley Rotary Group, and, er, you spoke to us just before Christmas.
Foyle: Right.
Mark: Er, this is my brother Peter. Now, Peter heads up the Community Service Committee, and- oh, please, won't you sit down, Mr Foyle?
Foyle: Thank you.
Mark: Yes, er, we raised £50 partly thanks to you, Mr Foyle.
Foyle: Oh, good.
He and Foyle head through to a seating area at the back while Peter stays over by the desk.
Mark: Yes, for Coventry. What's left of it. Yeah, I, I, I was there in January. Terrible what the Germans have done.
Foyle: Yeah.
Mark: Beautiful cathedral. I was married there, you know.
Foyle: Are you, er, from the Midlands?
Mark: No, no, no. We were born and brought up in Saltfleet, so we've been around ships just about all our lives.
Foyle: And how long have you been here now?
Mark: This used to be the Hannaford Shipyard and we bought it when old John Hannaford d*ed.
Peter: '37.
Mark: Never expected to end up at the coalface, but, er, well, the w*r wasn't part of our business plan.
Peter: (Bloody w*r. Bloody waste of time.)
Mark: Sorry, Peter?
Peter: Bloody waste of time. What did the Poles ever mean to us?
Mark: Yes, well, Peter and I don't agree on everything, but let's not go into that now. So, erm, how can I help you, Mr Foyle?
Foyle: Oh, I was wondering if you've got a man working here called Ian Kimble?
Mark: Kimble. No, that doesn't ring any bells. Does it?
Peter: We've got 400 men working here. We can't know them all.
Mark: Hey, we've got 400 men and women. Yes, we've got women riveters. We've got painters. We've- even welders. Eh, everything's changed.
Peter: We'll be into prefabrication soon. We've got the Yanks to thank for that.
Mark: Ian Kimble. Now, maybe I can help you, Mr Foyle.
He goes over and picks up the telephone.
Mark: Er... Yes, hello. Could you bring in the wages book please, Miss Hargreaves? Thank you.
He puts the phone down.
Mark: You see, if he's on the payroll, then he'll be in the book.
Foyle: Right. Is that a destroyer I saw out there?
Mark: Aye, she's in for repairs. Yeah. We only work for the Admiralty and the Ministry of Shipping now. It makes life easier, but we're still working hell for leather most of the time.
Peter: Round the clock!
Mark: The way these ships get beaten up in the North Atlantic. We have to get 'em out again. Tomorrow isn't soon enough.
Peter: We've got people out there working fourteen-hour days.
Mark stands up as Miss Hargreaves enters with the wages book.
Mark: When the unions let us. Thank you, Miss Hargreaves.
He takes the book from her.
Mark: Thank you. Er, right, let's have a look. Er, please, Mr Foyle, come and see.
Foyle: Yeah.
He gets up to join him at the table.
Mark: So that's... would be into 1-19, and, yeah, Keane, Kettle, Killick. There we are. Kimble. Aye. Er, yes. He works in the storeroom. Would you like me to call him up?
Foyle: Er, no. Not necessary. Erm, got an address for him?
Mark: Yes. Er, 37 Orchard Street.
Foyle: Right. Thank you.
Mark: May I ask what he's done, Mr Foyle?
Foyle: Well, it, erm... have a problem with stock, er, going missing at all here?
Mark: No. No, no, no we keep an inventory of everything. We run a very tight ship, don't we? No, there's no way anything goes out from here without our knowing about it.
Foyle: Right. Thank you very much.
He shakes Marks hand.
Mark: Thank you. Any, er, way that we can be of help, you just, er, give us a call.
Foyle: Thank you. Goodbye.
He shakes hands with Peter as well.
Mark: Miss Hargreaves will see you out, Mr Foyle.
Foyle: Thank you, sir.
Courtroom. Jack stands in the dock as Hammond speaks in his defence.
Hammond: Corporal Archer is an exemplary member of my squad. I'd like to mention that since he joined me, he's been involved in 28 UXBs, one of which exploded, k*lling an officer and wounding several others. His behaviour at the King's Head was completely out of character.
Magistrate: He was intoxicated.
Hammond: Well, yes, ma'am, but, um, if you'd been sitting in a hole with 1,000 kilograms of high expl*sive and a ticking fuse between your legs, you might need a drink, too.
Magistrate: Thank you.
Hammond steps down.
Magistrate: I understand there's a further witness here. A Miss Stewart?
Sam enters the courtroom. Gwen Rivers and Ted Roberts are both sitting watching. Sam goes up to place her hand on the Bible.
Sam: I hereby swear by almighty God to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
Magistrate: You're with the police?
Sam: Yes, ma'am. I'm a police driver.
Magistrate: And you were at the public house on the night in question?
Sam: Yes. Er, but I have to tell you, er, Jack Archer didn't mean anything by it.
Magistrate: He was aiming a loaded p*stol at another man's head.
Sam: Yes, but he didn't know it was loaded. And he wasn't really aiming.
Ted stands up.
Ted: That is not true!
Magistrate: Thank you, Mr Roberts. Miss Stewart, you're contradicting everything we've been told.
Sam: Well, what I mean is... he, he was waving the g*n at everyone and everywhere, but, um, well, he certainly didn't aim it at me.
Ted: What?
Sam: Well, he pointed the g*n at me when he gave it to me, but, um, he had no intention of, of f*ring it. Erm, and may I say, ma'am, that, er, Corporal Archer is a hero. And, er, what he's doing is quite marvellous. And I would be quite ready to go to prison in his place.
Magistrate: I beg your pardon?
Sam: Well, I was the one who fired the g*n in the end.
Magistrate: You fired the g*n?
Sam: Accidentally. Er, nobody was hurt.
Magistrate: Thank you, Miss Stewart.
Sam nods and steps down.
Magistrate: Corporal Archer, you have committed a very grave breach of the peace. And the fact you were carrying a firearm is particularly serious. In normal circumstances you would be facing a jail sentence. However, we accept that you have been working under severe mental strain. And in this instance one of the witnesses may have done more damage than yourself. The w*apon has been surrendered?
Jack: Yes, ma'am.
Magistrate: Then we are dismissing you with a caution.
Jack sighs in relief.
Magistrate: You may resume your duties.
The magistrate rises and everyone else does to.
Man: All right, son.
Jack leaves the dock and Gwen goes over to join him.
Later. Gwen and Jack are coming down the stairs, holding hands.
Gwen: Don't you get yourself in any more trouble, Jack Archer.
Jack: What about you? They'll dock you a day's pay.
Gwen: Oh, I don't mind. I wasn't going to let you be here on your own.
They go to kick, but Hammond comes up behind them and clears his throat.
Hammond: Sorry to interrupt you, Corporal, but, erm, what was it now? Oh, yes, of course, There's a w*r on. Come on.
Jack gives her a quick kiss on the cheek.
Jack: I'll see you soon.
Gwen: Bye-bye.
As he leaves, Sam comes up to join Gwen.
Sam: Hello, Gwen. How are you?
Gwen: Sam. Better now, thanks to you. Thank you for what you said.
Sam: I was glad to help. And congratulations!
Gwen: Oh, the wedding. Thanks. Are you coming?
Sam: Am I coming? Of course. I wouldn't miss it for the world.
Gwen: Listen, I don't suppose you fancy a cup of tea and a sandwich or something? We're only round the corner.
Sam: As long as your father doesn't report me to Mr Foyle.
Gwen: I'm absent without leave, too. Come on. This way.
The two of them walk along the street together.
Sam: I was at the yard where you work today.
Gwen: An investigation?
Sam: Stolen supplies. Don't suppose you know a man called Ian Kimble, do you?
Gwen: No. But there's loads of people there, though.
Sam: What exactly do you do?
Gwen: Promise you won't laugh. I'm a welder.
Sam: Why would I laugh? That's marvellous.
Gwen: Well, I quite enjoy it. It's better- more fun than my last job. Better paid. I still get less than the men, though.
Sam: Yeah, I bet.
Gwen: Mmm. It's not fair really. I'm just as good as them.
Sam: Mmm.
They heads up the steps to Gwen's house.
Gwen: I learnt about it in my last job.
Sam: The cake shop?
Gwen: Yeah.
Sam: I don't see the connection.
Gwen: Well, welding's a bit like icing cakes. Though I shouldn't be talking about cakes right now.
Sam: Oh, yes. The wedding.
Gwen: Yep. Two weeks away. I don't know what we're gonna do.
She opens the door and they go in.
Regency Hotel. Derek Woodgate walks towards the reception area with Raymond Carter.
Derek: Well, it's good to see you.
Carter: And you.
Derek: And, er, next time you'll come to the yard, eh?
Carter: You think I'll be welcome?
Derek: Like I was telling you, Mr Carter, there's a lot of us who believe in what you're saying. And, er, well, things will change.
They shake hands.
Carter: Good luck.
Derek: Thank you.
Foyle is arriving just as Derek leaves.
Carter: Mr Foyle.
Foyle: Yes.
Carter: I've booked a table in the hotel restaurant.
Foyle: Right.
They follow an older couple in.
Man: I'm looking forward to this.
Woman: Jolly good idea.
Back garden at the Rivers house. Gwen is pouring Sam some tea at an outdoor table.
Gwen: We can't have a cake for the wedding. Well, we can, but we're not allowed icing. There's a Sugar Order, would you believe it! We can have chocolate, but it's not the same.
Sam offers to pour her some milk.
Gwen: Mmm. Can't get confetti either, so I've got the girls in the office saving up the little bits of paper you get from punches. Paper punches. We've had to fight to get film for the photographs.
Sam: Why didn't you wait until after the w*r's over?
Gwen: That's what Dad says. I can't wait for Jack. You know the work he does, and if we wait, and... we might... never... Oh, I'm sorry. I love him. I, I've always loved him. I just- I just want...
Sam: I'm sorry, Gwen. I didn't mean to upset you. Here. Have a hanky. I'm sure you'll get through it all right. There were fewer b*mb last week. Maybe the Germans are running out.
Gwen: Haven't even got a maid of honour. Jenny's in America. She can't come over.
Sam: Why don't you ask one of the welders? In fact you could have a whole bunch of them standing outside the church, wielding their welding rods.
Gwen: It's a registry office.
Sam: You don't need a cake. You don't need anything. As long as you have each other.
Gwen: I don't suppose... Er, well, I suppose I should have thought of you in the first place really, but would you be my maid of honour? If it weren't for you, Jack might not even be free to get married.
Sam: Of course. I'd be delighted.
Gwen: Really?
Sam: Yes. Why not? I love weddings. My father's a vicar.
Gwen: Well, I know Jack'd be pleased. He was grateful for you turning up the way you did.
Sam: There's only one problem. Maid of honour. How am I going to get a dress?
Hotel restaurant. Foyle sits at the table with Carter and Lucinda.
Lucinda: I'm very glad you agreed to join us, Mr Foyle. If you're going to investigate us, this is the more civilised way.
Foyle: How did you know, by the way, that I was a policeman, Miss, erm...?
Lucinda: Sheridan. But please call me Lucinda. And it was a lucky guess really. Although you could say I know a thing or two about authority figures.
Foyle: Lucinda Sheridan the artist?
Lucinda: You know my work?
Foyle: I do. My wife was a watercolourist.
Carter: Are you investigating us?
Foyle: Er, no. No, I'm just, er, interested, er, in why you're here.
Carter: Well, er, we're holding a series of meetings. Informal.
Foyle: The People's Convention?
Carter: We want improved living standards, improved air-raid shelters. I don't see any crime in that.
Foyle: Well, there isn't. Er, but you're also demanding, er, self-determination for the colonies, erm, restoration of trade union rights, friendship with the USSR.
Carter: You've been doing your homework.
Foyle: And, er, at a time like this, in a defence area like this, erm, political activity such as this could be construed as provocative.
Carter: The government's been throwing the rulebook at us. Regulation 2D. They used it to close down The Daily Worker. The one paper that really supported us.
Lucinda: Artists and writers are being banned by the BBC.
Carter: Alan Bush, one of our sympathisers. They even tossed out JB Priestley.
Lucinda: They're running scared.
Carter: This w*r is a mess. They know it. They got us into it. And we're all suffering as a result of it.
Foyle: Of course, you're perfectly entitled to your opinion, and far be it for me to try to stop you.
Carter: Oh, so, um, why are you here, then? Come on, Mr Foyle. You think I don't see it. Getting friendly with us so you can what? Arrest us in the middle of the night? You're just a small cog in the government machine.
Lucinda: Raymond.
Carter: The real w*r that's going on at the moment is a class w*r. The people who are getting slaughtered in France and Africa are being sent there by officers who owe their rank simply to the public schools they attended. We're all being kept in our place. That's why you're here.
Foyle: Listen. Thank you for the invitation. Erm, but I've a feeling you'd enjoy your lunch a little better without me.
He stands up.
Carter: Afraid to be seen with me. Well, you wouldn't be the first.
Foyle: Mr Carter. Miss Sheridan.
As he leaves the restaurant, Lucinda gets up to follow, and Carter sighs in annoyance.
Lucinda catches up to Foyle in the reception area outside.
Lucinda: Mr Foyle. Mr Foyle, I wanted to apologise to you. Raymond was very offensive just now. He believes passionately in The People's Convention. Sometimes he gets carried away. But he's a good man. He's as much against the Nazis as anyone.
Foyle: I'm sure.
Lucinda: People have written horrible things about him. He was a journalist, but nobody will publish what he writes any more. They call him a defeatist. A Communist. But we went to Coventry together. We saw what had happened there. The suffering of the people. We can't bear the thought that it'll happen again. Maybe here.
Foyle: You think I don't feel the same?
Lucinda: Of course not. Raymond shouldn't have spoken to you like that.
Foyle: Certainly, erm, make my life a lot easier if you and Mr Carter felt able, er, to return to London at your earliest convenience.
Lucinda: Is that a warning?
Foyle: No, no, no. Just, er, a suggestion.
Police station. Sam is walking towards the records office with two cups of tea.
Foyle (offscreen): Sam.
She stops and looks back.
Sam: Sir.
Foyle: How d'you get on?
Sam: Oh. Fine, sir. They let him off.
Foyle: Well done.
He walks past Milner's office, where Milner is at his desk with his left arm in a sling.
Milner: Sir.
He gets up to meet Foyle.
Foyle: How's the arm?
Milner: Oh. Hardly notice it. I don't know why I've got all this. Ian Kimble. Nothing from the Department of Labour. He hasn't been issued with an identity card or ration books.
Foyle: And the address he gave doesn't exist.
Milner: Oh. But I did finally find an Ian Kimble. I checked with Somerset House. He's a local man. Born in 1920.
Foyle: And?
Milner: d*ed when he was seventeen. He's buried at St Mark's.
Foyle: Right.
Talbot shipyard. The Talbot brothers meet Foyle at the edge of a dry dock.
Mark: I didn't expect to see you again quite so soon, Mr Foyle. Not that you're not very welcome. Anything we can do to help?
Peter: Er, we're already checking the main inventory. I checked it myself this afternoon. There's nothing astray.
Foyle: Good.
Mark: So, er, what can we do for you?
Foyle: Well, it's this man Ian Kimble.
Mark: Ah, now, he didn't clock in this morning.
Foyle: Well, I'm not surprised. He's been dead for four years.
Mark: Sorry?
Foyle: Whoever you've got here is just using the name. I'd like to speak to anybody who works with him.
Mark: Well, you, you, you're more than welcome to try, Mr Foyle, but, er, it seems that nobody here knows him very well.
Foyle: What sort of identification did he give when you employed him?
Mark: Er, well, the usual papers. I dunno. Suppose they could have been false.
Foyle: And how was he paid?
Mark: Cash in an envelope at the end of the week. He'd have had to sign for it, but-
An air-raid siren begins to go off.
Mark: Listen, I suggest we continue this conversation in the shelter, Mr Foyle.
Peter: (Never bloody ends!)
Woman: Come on, Reggie, shift yourself!
The shipyard's klaxon blares and workers hurry out of the building, a warden pointing them towards the shelter. Parked out in front, Sam and Milner get out of the car and look around. Milner, no longer wearing his sling, points towards the shelter and Sam starts heading that way.
Milner: Sam!
He heads back to grab the bags with their gas masks from the car. He catches up to Sam and they head into the shelter. The warden guides more people in after them.
Warden: Everyone through here.
The Talbot brothers and Foyle come up the street behind him.
Warden (offscreen): This way, now. Come on. This way. Quick as you can!
Foyle follows the others into the shelter.
Inside, the warden walks along, counting people. Foyle and Mark stand opposite Peter. There's the whistle and expl*si*n of a b*mb blast close by, and the shelter shakes.
Child: I don't like it. Those shakes.
There's another whistle and the sound of shattering glass, but no expl*si*n.
Sapper headquarters. The phone rings and Hammond goes over to answer it.
Hammond: Captain Hammond here. Right. Thank you so much.
He puts the phone down and walks out to start grabbing equipment, passing a table where Ernie and Jack sit playing cards.
Hammond: Jack, Ernie, terribly sorry to interrupt your tea break, but we've had a call out, category A1.
They both get up to follow him out.
Jack: Where?
Hammond: The shipyard. Talbot's. Ernie, can you get the lads?
Ernie turns around and heads back through into an area to the rear.
Street outside Talbot's. Milner, Foyle and Sam are standing by the car as the sappers' lorry arrives.
Sam: It's the b*mb squad, sir. Hasn't the b*mb gone off yet?
Foyle: Doesn't look like it.
The Talbot bothers are standing by the entrance to a run-down warehouse marked "No Unauthorized Entry".
Peter: Mark and I had better go in and check the damage.
Foyle: Is that a good idea? I mean, what is this place?
Mark: Ah, don't worry, it's just part of the old shipyard. It hasn't been used for years. It's been derelict since-
Foyle: Shouldn't we clear this area, then?
Mark: Yes, yes. We will see to that.
Foyle: Mm-hmm.
The three sappers get out of the lorry.
Sam: It's Jack Archer, sir.
Hammond: Who's in charge here?
Sam: The man with the g*n in the pub.
Mark: This is our shipyard.
Hammond: You can help me move these people back at least 100 yards.
Mark: Why, are you going in there?
Hammond: Well, since you've got a UXB in there, it would seem to be a good idea.
Peter: There is no UXB. It went off.
Hammond: You think so?
Peter: Well, you can see for yourself.
Warden: Right back. Right, lads?
Hammond: If the b*mb had gone off, all the windows would be blown out. No scorch marks. No splinter damage. What's inside?
Peters: Old boats. Hulls. Relics. Nothing of any value.
Hammond: Right we'll take a look. Will you move back? Please. You two, with me.
He gestures to Jack and Ernie, and the three of them enter the warehouse.
Inside. Hammond looks around, and then points at a gap smashed through the roof beams.
Hammond: (There.)
They make their way through the junk-filled warehouse until they find the b*mb, sticking tail-up out of a pile of a scrap.
Jack: It's a Herman.
Hammond approaches to get a closer look. Ernie sets his toolbox down, and spots the corner of a banknote sticking out of a wooden box. He goes over and opens it, to find it full of paper packages of money.
Hammond: Least it's sunny side up. Makes life a little easier.
Ernie: Jack, look at this.
Jack: Not now, Ernie.
Hammond: No. Take a look.
Jack comes over and sees the money.
Jack: Bloody hell!
Ernie: Pssst!
Hammond: The b*mb's over here, chaps.
Jack gestures for him to come over and look.
Ernie laughs.
Ernie: How much d'you reckon?
Jack: Dunno. A grand, ten grand maybe?
Ernie: Fifty, more like.
Hammond comes over and sees the money.
Outside. The Talbot brothers stand with Foyle and Milner
Mark: Well, I have to say, Mr Foyle, this does put things into perspective, doesn't it?
Foyle: What do you mean?
Mark: Well, this was no accident, this b*mb falling here. We're obviously the target. Makes you think. We're in the front line. So, er, an att*ck like this, it's, er, life and death. Makes a few missing supplies seem like small beer by comparison, doesn't it?
Foyle: Well, I couldn't agree more. On the other hand, didn't you just tell me there aren't any missing supplies? But, erm, there's a better time for this. I'll be back.
Foyle and Milner walk over to where Sam is driving up in the car.
Foyle: You've got men posted at bus and railway stations looking for Kimble, yeah?
Milner: Yes, sir. And there are roadblocks on all the main roads.
Foyle: We should get a list of everyone working in the storeroom.
Milner: Yes, sir.
They get into the car and drive away.
Back at the warehouse, Hammond and Ernie are just emerging.
Mark: So, did you find anything?
Hammond: Yes, sir. Quite a big thing as a matter of fact. A Herman. Not hard to spot.
Peter: And what's a Herman?
Hammond: A 1,000 kilogram b*mb. Can't think how it got there. It might just have fallen through the roof.
Mark: So, can you defuse it?
Hammond: It's a tricky one. 28A fuse. Anti-disturbance. The slightest vibration could set it off. So, nobody cough.
Mark: What's your name, Captain?
Hammond: Ralph Hammond.
Mark: You seem to take this all very lightly.
Jack comes out of the warehouse behind them.
Hammond: Well, it's all in a day's work, isn't it? Corporal, we're gonna need the quilter key.
Jack and Ernie jog off towards the lorry.
Mark: What's that?
Hammond: It's a tool designed to unlock the cap, which gives us access to the fuse. And if it works, we can all go home for tea.
Mark: And if it doesn't?
Hammond: I'd appreciate it if you'd go away, sir. Far away.
Peter: Captain Hammond.
Mark: All right. Come along, Peter.
Peter: Whatever you say.
William Mason's house. He's sitting at the table, but jumps up when someone comes in. It's his wife, Joanne. He sighs in relief.
Mason: What you doing home this time?
Joanne: Didn't you hear? There was a raid. We were sent home early.
Mason: Did you cop one?
Joanne: Yeah, but it didn't go off. You been in here all day?
Mason: Where else am I gonna go? I've been thinking.
Joanne: Oh, yeah?
Mason: London. That's the answer.
Joanne: London? How are you even gonna get out of Hastings? I was down the station. There were police everywhere.
Mason: I'll go by bus.
Joanne: They're stopping the buses. They're stopping all the cars. I told you, you should never have got yourself mixed up in all this.
Mason: Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Joanne: What you gonna do if you even get there? You've got nowhere to go.
Mason: I'll go to Aunt Dot's. She'll put me up.
Joanne: You won't get to London. You won't get anywhere near. You've got to turn yourself in. It's only a load of wood.
Mason: I can't turn myself in.
Joanne: It's six months. You've been inside before. Turn yourself in, maybe they'll go easy on you.
Mason: Forget it! I sh*t a copper.
Joanne: What?
Mason: I didn't know what I was doing. It was self-defence.
Joanne: Bill, I don't believe this. Did you k*ll him?
Mason: I dunno.
Joanne: Well, somebody had bloody better find out.
Mason: I wasn't thinking.
Joanne: You can say that again! What we gonna do?
Mason: Like I said.
Joanne: You're not going anywhere. They won't find you. They don't know who you are. But we need to know about the copper.
Mason: Do you think they're gonna put it in the newspapers?
Joanne: No. But I know someone. She'll tell me.
Warehouse. Ernie walks out, followed by a man driving a motorised cart with the b*mb on the back. Jack is sitting on the b*mb. Hammond and the Talbot brothers watch them pass.
Warden: He's sitting on that.
Woman: Look at that! He's sitting on it.
Hammond nods to the Talbots and walks off after the group with the b*mb. Peter moves as if to go into the warehouse, but Mark stops him. They walk away along the street inside.
Rivers house. Sam is eating with Gwen and Sergeant Rivers.
Gwen: I'm so glad you're gonna be there, Sam.
Sam: I still don't know what I'm going to wear with all this rationing. Eleven coupons for a dress!
Gwen: Oh, they still take margarine coupons.
Sam: Mmm. I haven't got any left.
Gwen: I'll get Mum to run you up something if you like? She's making me a dress out of butter muslin.
Sam: I'm not sure I'd look my best in butter muslin. They say, er, Reed & Pettigrew will turn a blind eye. Although if they did, I'm sure your father would have to arrest them.
Rivers: We're not having any of that.
Gwen: Well, at least we'll have a proper spread. I went down to the Food Office today to get permits for the extra food.
Rivers: Half a pound of butter for twenty guests. That won't go far.
Gwen: Stop grumbling, Dad. You don't want me to get married because you won't have me looking after you any more.
Rivers: So, where is he, then, that young man of yours? I thought you were seeing him this evening.
Gwen: Didn't turn up.
Rivers: That's not like him.
Gwen: Mmm. Maybe he was embarrassed after what happened.
Rivers: I'm not surprised.
Gwen: Well, I'm surprised he didn't call.
Sam: I saw him at the dockyard just after the b*mb fell.
Gwen: Mmm. I heard he was down there. I didn't dare go and look.
Rivers: So, where is he?
Gwen: I don't know, Dad. I'm sure he'll turn up.
King's Head pub. The three sappers sit at a table together with their beers.
Jack: It's wrong.
Hammond: Yes, Jack, I think we've got the message.
Jack: No, what I'm saying is-
Hammond: I know what you're saying. But it's too late. We decided, the three of us.
Jack: It's wrong.
Ernie: I'm going back to the billet.
He abruptly stands up.
Hammond: You haven't finished-
Ernie: I've had enough of this. I'm off.
Jack: You should go after him.
Hammond: Why? You're the one I'm worried about, Jack. This sudden att*ck of conscience. For Pete's sake, you're getting married in a week. Cheer up.
Outside. Ernie leaves the pub and walks along the darkened street. As he reaches a side street, he almost walks right into a car that suddenly pulls out. The car stops, and a man with a cosh whacks Ernie over the head. He and the driver bundle Ernie into the back. As the car drives off, a woman in a nurse's uniform, Jenny Wright, wheels her bike along and stares after them.
Talbot shipyard.
Rose (voiceover): Foyle? He was here already?
Peter (voiceover): Twice. He was here yesterday.
Assistant Commissioner Rose is sitting with the Talbot brothers at the table in their office.
Rose: He was here about Raymond Carter?
Mark: Raymond Carter? No. No, I haven't heard of him.
Peter: He was asking about stolen materials, petty pilfering.
Rose: I see. Mmm, of course. Yeah. Yeah, well, I'm, I'm afraid we're at cross purposes. That's not why I'm here.
The secretary brings them all tea.
Mark: Oh. Glad to hear it. I thought Mr Foyle was wasting his time.
Peter: And ours.
The secretary set a cup down by Mark.
Mark: Thank you. So, um, why are you here? Is it, er, something about this man that you mentioned?
The secretary sets another cup down next to Peter.
Peter: (Thank you.)
Mark: This man you that mentioned, Carter.
Rose: He's a left-wing agitator. He's a member of an organisation calling itself the People's Convention.
Mark: No, I'm afraid I haven't heard of them either.
Peter: We keep our heads down. We're working 24 hours in 24. We've no time for politics.
Rose: So, you haven't noticed any upsurge in what I might loosely describe as industrial unrest?
Mark: Well, as a matter of fact there have been certain developments recently. Well, yes, I had a meeting with one of our shop stewards, a man called Derek Woodgate.
Peter: He's a troublemaker.
Mark: By and large we've had no problems with the unions. I mean, they support the w*r. Good for them, Mr Rose. But, er, it's certain individuals among the rank and file that give us the biggest headaches.
Rose: Oh, you mean strikes?
Mark: Well, strikes have been illegal since Order 1305 last year, but it doesn't stop them.
Peter: One-day strikes and lock-outs. You have no idea how many man-hours we've lost, and nobody does anything about it. There's never been any prosecutions.
Rose: This man, Woodgate, has he threatened you with strike action?
Mark: Oh, no. No, no. Not in- not in so many words, but now he wants to set up what he calls a works committee.
Peter: No need to say who'll be at its head.
Mark: I mean, we met with him in this very office, and there was something about the way he spoke to us.
Rose: Yeah. I mean, you think he's been got at?
Mark: No doubt about it. Even his language. It was socialism, the class w*r, the proletariat. Er, now, this, um, man that you were asking about, Raymond Carter. Is he in Hastings?
Rose: I'm afraid so.
Mark: Well, a man like Woodgate, given the right amm*nit*on, could do us much damage to us as the whole of the Luftwaffe.
Peter: We had a raid only yesterday.
Mark: And quite frankly, your Mr Foyle seems to have his head buried in the sand. And we are fighting a w*r. All he was interested in was a handful of missing supplies.
Police station. Jenny Wright sits in an office drinking a cup of tea.
Wright: There were two men. One driving. They must have been waiting outside the pub. When the other man came out, they hit him on the head and dragged him in the car. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It was like something out of those Hollywood films.
Foyle is listening to this.
Wright: You know, Jimmy Cagney. "You dirty rat!"
Foyle: Did you get a look at the, er, registration plate?
Wright: No. I'm sorry. I just wanted to get home. And I didn't see anything very much.
Foyle: The King's Head?
Wright: We all go in there after work sometimes. It's just down the road.
Foyle: Right. Thank you, Miss Wright.
He gets up to open the door for her.
Wright: I thought it was some sort of joke. But I had to tell someone about it.
Foyle: Thank you.
Wright: I mean, in Hastings of all places! Whatever next?
Foyle: This way.
King's Head. Milner is there to question Ted Roberts.
Ted: There were three of them. Er, Archer, Hammond, and Jonesy. I had a right go at him. Expecting me to give him change of a fiver!
Milner: He gave you a £5 note?
Ted: Yeah. His old aunt. Must have left him the yacht and the castle an' all. It wasn't that so much. He looked really upset about something. I reckon they had a barney. Then he got up and left. Never even finished his pint.
Milner: Thank you.
Talbot shipyard. Joanne Mason is doing some welding alongside another woman. Gwen Rivers walks past with her welding mask up and catches a spark in the eye.
Gwen: Ow!
She passes behind Joanne.
Gwen: Sorry.
Joanne sets her welding torch down and goes after her.
Joanne: You okay?
Gwen: Yeah. Just a spark.
She dabs at her eye with a handkerchief.
Joanne: You need to bathe it. D'you want me to go and get you some cold tea?
Gwen: No. I'm all right. I'm all right.
Gwen goes over to sit down, and Joanne takes the handkerchief from her.
Joanne: No. Let me.
She spits on it and dabs at Gwen's eye.
Joanne: I hate all these new compound welds.
Gwen: It's all in the cooling.
Joanne: I know. I always leave it too late and the metal gets all lumpy. Is that better?
Gwen: Yeah. Cheers.
Joanne sits down beside her.
Joanne: Hardly worth it, though, is it? Not even three quid a week!
Gwen: No.
Joanne offers her a cigarette.
Gwen: Oh, no, I don't. Thanks.
Joanne: I forgot. So, did you hear anything about that business, then?
Gwen: What?
Joanne: The stuff that was pinched. It was taken from the storeroom.
Gwen: Where d'you hear about that?
Joanne: Mmm. I dunno. I heard someone saying. They say a policeman was sh*t.
Gwen: Never!
Joanne: Your dad's a police sergeant, in't he? Thought you'd know all about it.
Gwen: Well, he never talks about his work.
Joanne: So you don't know if he's all right, then?
Gwen: Who?
Joanne: The policeman.
Gwen: I didn't even know anyone was sh*t. Why you asking?
Joanne: Just gossip. I hate this place. I was happier at the foundry.
Gwen: So, how d'you end up here?
Joanne: Like a BF I volunteered. Is your eye all right, then?
Gwen: Yeah. Thanks.
Joanne: Better get back, then.
She goes back to her work.
Yard outside sapper headquarters. Foyle and Milner walk along with Hammond.
Foyle: You're in one piece.
Hammond: Luck of the devil. When I started out in b*mb disposal we had an average life of seven weeks. That was nine months ago.
Foyle: And you volunteered?
Hammond: It may surprise you, but I did. I was in the Nancy Elsie, the Non-Combatant Labour Corps. I was a pacifist. Suppose I still am. But I was a civil engineer before the w*r. It occurred to me this was about the only work I could do without compromising what I believed in.
The three of them head into the building and up a flight of stairs.
Foyle: And what about Jones?
Hammond: He fell into it by accident. He wanted to join the Royal Engineers because he thought it would be safe. Mending bridges, that sort of a thing. Nasty surprise when they transferred him here.
Milner: And do you have any idea where he might be?
Hammond: None at all.
Milner: Where does he live?
Hammond: He's billeted here. His bed wasn't slept in.
Milner: And, er, does he have another address? Is there a wife, or, er, parents?
Hammond: His parents are in Cumbria I think. He has no lady friend. Poor Ernest got banged about a bit. He's not very sociable.
Foyle: Meaning?
The three of them enter the bunk room.
Hammond: Well, he and another sapper, a chap called McClaren, were digging up a b*mb buried in an allotment just the other side of Hastings. Ernest went to get a glass of water, and just as he walked away, there was one hell of a bang, and he was thrown about twelve feet into the air. We don't know how it happened. He wasn't hurt except for his eardrums. He can still hardly hear, but I suppose he was lucky. We never found anything of McClaren.
Foyle: Two men were seen dragging, er, Jones into a car last night.
Hammond: I don't believe it.
Milner: There was a witness. It happened just outside The King's Head.
Hammond: Why Ernest? There couldn't be any reason. I'm sure you've got the wrong man. He's probably out walking on the beach or something. He'll show up.
Police station. Gwen is at the front desk. Sergeant Rivers comes out from the back.
Rivers: Gwen! What are you doing here?
Gwen: Hello, Dad.
Rivers: Everything all right?
Gwen: Yeah. Um, I was wondering if Sam was around.
Rivers: You shouldn't be bringing private matters into the station.
Gwen: It's nothing to do with the wedding.
Rivers: Have you seen Jack?
Gwen: No. Look, I think I might be able to help. This business down at the shipyard.
Rivers: What do you know about that?
Gwen: What Sam told me.
Rivers: Then she's been talking out of turn.
Gwen: Dad-
Sam (offscreen): Gwen!
Gwen turns round to see Sam arriving with Foyle and Milner.
Gwen: Sam, thank goodness you're here.
The two of them hug.
Rivers: Excuse me, sir. This is my daughter Gwendoline.
Foyle: Ah. Getting married, is that right?
Gwen: Yes.
Foyle: Congratulations.
Gwen: Thank you, Mr Foyle. I'm a bit nervous.
Foyle: I'm not surprised.
Gwen: Um, I wonder if I could have a word?
Foyle: Yes, of course.
Foyle's office. Gwen sits in the office with Foyle, Milner and Sam.
Gwen: Her name's Joanne Mason. She never really speaks to me, but this time she was being really pally, asking me questions. She was asking me about that policeman who was sh*t.
Foyle gestures to Milner.
Foyle: This is him.
Gwen: Oh. Are you all right?
Milner: I was lucky.
Gwen: Oh. Well, she didn't know that. Well, she was asking me questions about Dad, if he knew anything. Sam had told me you were after someone who'd been thieving, but it's funny, because Joanne knew the stuff had come from the storeroom. Well, I didn't know that. No one did. So that set me thinking. How could she know?
Foyle: She have, erm, a husband or boyfriend working at the yard?
Gwen: Hmm. I don't really know her that well. But I have seen her with a man a couple of times.
Milner: Can you describe him?
Gwen: Medium height. Quite dark skin. Greying hair. He's got a sort of crooked nose.
Foyle looks at Milner, who nods.
Foyle: Right. Thank you.
Street outside the Mason house. Sam, Foyle and Milner pull up outside in the car.
Milner: So, real name William Mason. Three months hard labour for aggravated burglary and as*ault. Two spells in Borstal. He's been in and out of trouble all his life.
Foyle: You should stay in the car, don't you think?
Sam: Yes, sir.
Foyle and Milner get out. Foyle knocks on the front door.
Inside. Joanne approaches the door as they knock again. Mason hides away in the walk-in larder.
Outside. Joanne opens the door.
Foyle: Mrs Mason?
Joanne: Yes.
Foyle: Can I have a word with your husband, please?
Joanne: He's not here. Who are you?
Foyle: Erm, the name's Foyle. I'm a policeman.
Joanne: I haven't seen Bill for a while. He's gone away.
Inside, Mason loses his nerves and bolts out of the larder. Milner rushes past Joanne into the house.
Joanne: No! You leave him alone!
Mason goes out the back door and runs along behind the houses. As he reaches the gate at the end, his path is blocked by a uniformed policeman. Mason throws a dustbin into his path and runs back the other way.
Policeman: Oh, blast!
As Mason reaches the gate at the other end, he's grabbed by Milner. The two of them wrestle for a moment, but Milner manages to pin him down.
Police station. Mason is brought in, handcuffed, followed by Joanne. A policeman shoves him in the back.
Policeman: Move!
As they walk through into the back, Foyle and Milner arrive at the front desk.
Rivers: Everything all right, sir?
Foyle: Certainly is, Rivers.
Rivers: Well, I'm sorry to spoil it for you, sir, but, er, you've got a visitor. Assistant Commissioner Rose, sir. He's back.
Foyle: Right. Thank you.
Foyle's office. Rose is sitting at the desk reading a newspaper as Foyle enters.
Rose: Ah. There you are, Foyle.
Foyle: Back again, sir? What can I do for you?
Rose: It's clear you have completely disregarded my direct orders.
Foyle: Have I?
Rose: I asked you to investigate Raymond Carter.
Foyle: I have.
Rose: From I hear you had a cosy lunch with him. That's not the same thing.
Foyle: Well, nothing to investigate.
Rose: I beg to differ. I've just visited the Talbot brothers.
Foyle: Oh, have you? Yes, I've seen them a couple of times, too.
Rose: What you saw them about, Foyle, is neither here nor there. While you've been rummaging about in their store cupboards they're facing up to a series of strikes which could paralyse their shipyard! A shop steward called Derek Woodgate has been in talks with Carter. Their combined Bolshie efforts could bring a, a vital industry to a virtual standstill.
Foyle: They have that much influence?
Rose: Just remember, please, the Communists are just as much our enemies as the Nazis. Now, I want you to drop whatever it is you're doing and deal with this man. Find out about his associates. And while you're about it, search his room.
Foyle: His hotel room?
Rose: Where else?
Foyle: Why?
Rose: We have to find the evidence. Regulation 18B. Detention without charge.
Foyle: I'm aware of the regulation.
Rose: Well, use it!
He goes to leave just as Sam arrives at the door.
Sam: Oh!
Rose: Who are you?
Sam: Samantha Stewart, sir. Mr Foyle's driver.
Rose: Ridiculous.
He leaves.
Sam: Sorry to interrupt, sir.
Foyle: Not at all. Glad you did.
Sam: I brought you the information on the British watercolourists.
Foyle: Right. Thank you.
She leaves.
Run-down warehouse. Milner looks up at the hole the b*mb left in the roof. He spots some balls of plastic expl*sive and offcuts of wire left behind by the sappers and goes over to look. He picks up some of the plastic expl*sive and gives it a sniff.
Regent Hotel. Foyle is in a lounge off the reception area with Carter and two uniformed policemen.
Foyle: I wonder if you'd mind telling me what you'd be doing with these?
Carter: What are they?
Foyle: They're photographs of Talbot's Shipyard.
Carter: What has this got to do with me?
Foyle: Well, we just found them in your room.
Carter: You searched my room?
Foyle: Mmm.
Carter: This sort of work does you no credit at all, Mr Foyle.
Foyle: Well, I'd agree with you.
Carter: I've never seen these in my life.
Foyle: I see. Erm, being in possession of, er, photographs like these in normal circumstances would lead to an arrest.
Carter: That why you placed them there?
Foyle: Er, but as it is I'm sorry to have disturbed you.
Carter: You're not going to arrest me?
Foyle: No. Thank you.
He and the policemen leave.
Outside the Talbot shipyard. Derek Woodgate stands speaking to a group of men.
Derek: They've got pits production committees in the mines, haven't they?
Man: That's true.
Derek: Then why not yard committees here? Just because there's a w*r on doesn't mean you can't have a voice. No, it's because of the w*r, isn't it, that the management doesn't want to listen.
There are murmurs of agreement from the crowd.
Derek: Let me tell you something. We're gonna have a committee. We're going to have one here.
Foyle stands a short distance back, listening.
Derek: And they're going to listen!
Man: That's right!
Crowd: Yeah!
Derek: Thank you very much.
Foyle waits for Derek as the crowd disperses.
Foyle: Derek Woodgate?
Derek: Yes.
Foyle: How d'you do? The name's Foyle. I'm a policeman.
Derek: I saw you at the hotel, didn't I?
Foyle: Yeah, that's right. You were with, er, Raymond Carter.
Derek: That's right. What can I do for you?
Foyle: Er, would you have given him any, um, photographs? Photographs of this dockyard?
Derek: And why would I do that, Mr Foyle? It was a personal meeting.
Foyle: Was the meeting related to, erm, your work at all here?
Derek: Not really. I went to see him because I admire what he does.
Foyle: You a member of the People's Convention?
Derek: Yes.
Foyle: I understand you're a shop steward here?
Derek: That's right.
Foyle: Yeah. How many, um, union members have you got here, then?
Derek: In the shipyard? 143.
Foyle: So what, about half the workforce?
Derek: Your maths isn't up to very much, Mr Foyle. There are just over 200 people at Talbot's. 70% are with me.
Foyle: Right. Does the name, um, Ian Kimble mean anything to you?
Derek: No.
Foyle: William Mason?
Derek: Yeah. I've heard of him. He's in Supplies.
Foyle: What about these?
He gives Derek a sheet of paper.
Derek: Er... Mark Kelly. Des Parker. I know both of those. Never heard of the others. Why?
Foyle: Right. No, that's it. Thank you.
He turns to go.
Derek: Oh, Mr Foyle.
Foyle: Yep.
Derek: Are you paid to do this?
Foyle: Yep.
Derek: So are we. So are the Talbots. They might pretend they're doing it for the w*r, but they're raking it in. They make us work all hours. They bring women in to do the same jobs as us at half the rate. They got orders coming in left and right. But they're not doing it for the w*r. Oh, no. They're doing it to get rich. You should remember that, Mr Foyle.
Foyle: I will.
Derek: Good day to you.
They both walk away.
Gwen and Jack stand together in a park.
Gwen: What?
Jack: Look, there's something I want to talk to you about. It's awkward. I can't go into details.
Gwen: You've changed your mind. You don't want to go ahead with it.
Jack: No!
Gwen: Well, what, then?
Jack: I haven't changed my mind. I still love you. It's just... we're gonna have to think about postponing it.
Gwen: The wedding? You're not serious. We can't!
Jack: Look, something's happened. Something good. I mean, I did it for you, and if it works out you and me will be set up for life.
Gwen: You're not making any sense, Jack.
Jack: I'm not supposed to talk about it.
Gwen: Says who?
Jack: Captain Hammond. Still haven't found Ernest.
Gwen: Didn't know he'd scarpered.
Jack: He hasn't. He's disappeared.
Gwen: When?
Jack: Look, I just want you to think about it, that's all, postponing.
Gwen: I won't think about it.
Jack: We may have to. I want to be with you, Gwen, you know I do. It's just... right now it's out of my hands.
Gwen: Jack, you're frightening me.
Jack: It'll be fine. I love you. It'll work out in the end.
He draws her into a hug.
Sapper headquarters. Two men walk through the yard and lift the cloth covering the back of a lorry. Inside, Ernie's dead body hangs suspended from a hook. There's a cigarette burn on the side of his face.
Sapper: Bloody hell! Mr Hammond, sir!
The two of them run towards the building.
Police station. Foyle walks towards his office with Milner.
Foyle: You sure Mason worked on his own?
Milner: Yes, sir. Certainly looks like that.
Foyle: And his wife?
Milner: You know, she was working at Talbot's as well.
Foyle: Yeah, well, that, er, does seem that's where everything begins and ends.
Milner: Yes, sir.
They enter Foyle's office and Milner closes the door.
Milner: And I went back to the warehouse.
Foyle: Yep?
Milner: There was nothing in there. Mark Talbot was telling the truth. But I found these next to the crater.
He tips the balls of plastic expl*sive out from an envelope.
Foyle: It's expl*sive.
Milner: Mmm. That's what I thought. I presume it's German. Just seems strange to me.
Foyle: That the Engineers should have left it behind?
Milner: Mmm. It's a bit clumsy. And it means they must have dismantled the b*mb when they were there. I thought they just removed the fuse and blew it up later.
Foyle: Hmm.
There's a knock on the door.
Foyle: Yes?
Sergeant Rivers enters.
Rivers: Sir...
Sapper headquarters. Foyle and Milner enter the bunk room, where Ernie's body has been laid out a bunk. Hammond and a uniformed policeman stand by. Foyle examines the body, which has more cigarette burns on the hands and chest.
Milner: Cigarette burns.
Foyle: Looks like it.
The two of them and Hammond walk out together.
Hammond: I can't understand it. Poor Ernest.
Foyle: Who'd want to do that to him, do you think?
Hammond: I really don't know. Maybe he was gambling. Maybe he was seeing somebody's wife. There are a dozen men here. He was just one of them.
Foyle: Tell me about the b*mb at the dockyard.
The three of them emerge into the yard outside.
Hammond: It was a Herman. We give them names. Fritz is 1,400 kilograms. Herman is 1,000. Had a single fuse, and probably wasn't meant to blow up at once. The Jerries do it on purpose now. They've realised that a UXB causes more havoc and disruption than a simple bang, plus there's the uncertainty of it. Undermining civilian morale.
A pair of sappers step aside to let them past.
Sapper: Sir.
Hammond: A w*r of nerves.
Foyle: You defused it?
Hammond: We had no choice. It was A1 category. Immediate disposal essential. Detonation of the b*mb in situ unacceptable in any terms.
Foyle: But you opened it up.
Hammond: What makes you say that?
Milner holds up the plastic expl*sive and Hammond takes it.
Hammond: You've been back. The shell casing had split. This probably leaked out.
He hands it back.
Foyle: Where is it now?
Hammond: We blew it up. Few miles down the coast.
He walks away.
Sam, Foyle and Milner drive away. Hammond waves at the car as they go, then turns back. He finds Jack waiting in the shadows behind him.
Jack: So what you gonna do? You have to tell them.
Hammond: I'm afraid it's rather too late for that, Jack. You know that as well as I do. We're just going to have to do what we do best. Keep our nerve.
Rivers house. Gwen sits at the table with Sam.
Gwen: I don't know what's wrong with him. He's never been like that before.
Sam: It was probably last-minute nerves.
Gwen: What, postponing the wedding?
Sam: Maybe it had something to do with Sapper Jones.
Gwen: Ernest? What about him?
Sam: Of course, you haven't heard.
Gwen: What?
Sam: I'm afraid he was k*lled.
Gwen: What?
Sam: It happened last night, I think.
Gwen: A b*mb?
Sam: No. It was rather worse than that. Mr Foyle is having to investigate. It looks as though he may have been m*rder*d.
Gwen: Jack knew something was wrong. That's what he was trying to tell me.
Sam: D'you think Jack could be involved?
Gwen: Sam, you must promise me you mustn't say anything to Mr Foyle or to my dad.
Sam: I don't know, Gwen.
Gwen: I've known Jack all my life. He would never do anything wrong.
Sam: I don't know what's going on, Gwen. I really don't. But I hope you're right.
The door opens and Sam stands up as Rivers enters.
Sam: Mr Rivers.
Rivers: You've heard, then? I don't understand it. People k*lling each other in wartime! Doesn't make any sense. And to do that to a man who's a blinking hero! Well, don't you worry, my love. We'll find whoever did it. Mr Foyle will. I can promise you that.
Talbot shipyard.
Peter (offscreen): Where is it?
Hammond (offscreen): You k*lled Ernest Jones.
He and the Talbot brothers are walking along together.
Mark: We did nothing of the sort.
Peter (offscreen): Where is it?
Hammond: I should tell you now, if I'm not back in my barracks unharmed in exactly twenty minutes from now your money goes up in flames.
Mark: So where is the money?
Hammond: Where did you get it? What was it doing there?
Peter: That's our business.
Hammond: You're thieves.
Mark: There is only one thief round here, Captain Hammond.
Hammond: All right, let's get to the point, shall we? I appreciate now I shouldn't have taken the money. I'm prepared even to give it back.
Mark: Very sensible.
Hammond: But I have to be sure I won't end up like Jones.
Mark: Why should we want to harm you? We just want what's ours.
Hammond: All right. I'll return it to you. Minus £250. £100 for me. £100 for Archer. £50 for Jones's mother. Something to bury him with.
Mark: Sorry. Why should we pay you anything?
Hammond: It buys my silence. At least I get something out of this. And there's so much there you're not going to notice it.
Mark: All right. Agreed. So where is the money?
Hammond: I'll call you tomorrow. I'll take the money somewhere safe. It'll just be me and a suitcase. Fair enough.
Mark: Right.
Hammond: Right. Better go. Archer's waiting for me.
He walks away, and the Talbots watch him go.
Mark: Hmm.
Foyle's office. Rose looks round as the door opens.
Rose: Foyle.
Foyle (offscreen): Sir.
Rose: Progress?
Foyle: Er, yes. I'm now in the middle of a m*rder enquiry.
Rose: I'm talking about progress into the Carter investigation.
Foyle: Well, his, um, business, his politics, his whereabouts are of no interest to me. Neither is your involvement with him.
Rose: How dare you speak to me like that.
Foyle: I don't like my time being wasted and I don't like my staff being manipulated, especially when in this case it's, er, for your own personal ends.
Rose: What the hell are you talking about?
Foyle: When you asked me to look into this, er, his presence here you, um, you first of all knew a heck of a lot more than you were telling me.
Rose: I often know more than I tell you, Foyle.
Foyle: And vice versa, Commissioner. You told me he'd booked into the Regency with his fiancée Lucinda Sheridan.
Rose: Which he had.
Foyle: They hadn't. They didn't make a reservation till the following day, and, er, though in fact Miss Sheridan and he are not yet in fact married, the reservation was made in the names of Mr and Mrs Carter. Miss Sheridan also, er, already knew I was a policeman. Would she have got that from you?
Rose: How would she get that from me?
Foyle: Well, she's your daughter. Although, er, according to her CV she paints under the name of Sheridan, her actual name is in fact Lucinda Rose. And I would imagine that her marriage to this man is, erm, something you wouldn't necessarily approve of.
Rose sits down.
Rose: Well, that's entirely irrelevant.
Foyle: Is it? I won't ask how the, er, photographs of the shipyard came to be in his room.
Rose: What are you implying?
Foyle: If he's in jail, he can't marry your daughter.
Rose: I asked you to investigate Raymond Carter for pre- for precisely the reasons I told you. The man's a, a genuine danger to the w*r effort. It's quite wrong of you to think otherwise. I admit there is a... a personal connection which perhaps I should have mentioned. My daughter can be very wayward. And I, I genuinely believe that this... this man will lead her further astray.
Foyle: She seems very happy with him.
Rose: Well, that's none of your business.
Foyle: Well, precisely my feeling, which is where I think we came in.
Rose stands up to go.
Rose: My daughter no longer speaks to me, Foyle. She, she changed her name because she didn't want to have anything to do with me. But I still care about her. Still worry about her. You have a son?
Foyle: Yes.
Rose: How would you feel if he wanted to marry a traitor?
He raises his eyebrow, and Foyle nods.
Sapper headquarters, bunk room. Jack walks out to join Hammond, who's just closing a suitcase.
Jack: Captain Hammond, sir, you shouldn't go.
Hammond: You're absolutely right there, Jack. I shouldn't. But thinking it through I can't come up with any alternative.
Jack: You could go to the police.
Hammond: I could, of course. But I don't fancy spending the rest of the w*r on the treadmill at Reading Jail. Don't suppose you're familiar with the work of Oscar Wilde?
Jack: What?
Hammond: Never mind. It's, er... Look, if this works, you have nothing to worry about. In fact, even if it doesn't work, you shouldn't have too much of a problem. You can always say I ordered you.
He heads off with the suitcase.
Jack: Captain!
Hammond: Forget it, Jack. And remember, keep mum, least for the next few hours. 2:30 it will all be over.
Jack: We shouldn't have done it, sir.
Hammond stops walking.
Jack: We should never have done it.
Hammond: Yes. The joys of hindsight. We should never have done it, you're right. But it was one of those once-in-a-lifetime moments, wasn't it? I have no family, no wife. It's not so bad for me. But poor Ernest. And you.
He leaves the building.
Foyle's office. Foyle is at his desk, contemplating the balls of plastic expl*sive. There's a knock at the door and Milner enters.
Milner: Sir. The two men who supposedly worked in the storeroom at Talbot's, John Richards and Tim Wilcox. Now I know why nobody knew them.
Foyle: Because they're dead?
Milner: They both d*ed as children.
Foyle: Right. I think... we've got to pay another visit to Captain Hammond.
Sappers headquarters. Foyle and Milner are in the yard, where Jack is working on one of the vehicles.
Foyle: Where's Captain Hammond?
Jack: He's not here.
Foyle: That's not what I asked.
Jack: I dunno where he is. He left about an hour ago.
Foyle: You're getting married soon, aren't you?
Jack: Yeah. Next week.
Foyle: It would be nice if you were there, wouldn't it? See, there's not gonna be any wedding if you don't do a little better than this, 'cause we're gonna have to arrest you for withholding information, and that's a probable prison sentence.
Jack: I haven't done anything.
Foyle: Well, good. Where's Captain Hammond?
Jack: I've got nothing to say to you, Mr Foyle.
Foyle: Right. Well, I'm sorry.
Milner: Jack Archer, you're under arrest. Come on.
They lead him back to the car where Sam stands waiting.
Police station interview room.
Foyle: Where's the money?
Jack sits silent at the table.
Foyle: Where's the money?
Jack: What money?
Foyle: The money you stole from the shipyard.
Jack stays silent. Foyle glances at Milner, who's also observing.
Foyle: See, the people whose money it is now want it back, understandably. Ernest Jones has been k*lled because presumably he wouldn't tell them where it was. You and Hammond are next on the list, so wouldn't it be sensible to tell us first so we can get to them before they get to you? Where's Captain Hammond? Where's Captain Hammond? Is he with the Talbots?
Front desk. Sam sits smoking alongside Rivers. Foyle walks in.
Foyle: Sergeant.
Rivers: Mr Foyle, sir, I can't believe this has happened. Sir, Jack wouldn't get mixed up in something like this. He doesn't think straight sometimes. No lads do these days, but his heart's in the right place.
Sam: Are you sure you're not mistaken, sir?
Foyle: Yes, I am. Listen, I know this is a very difficult situation for you.
Rivers: No.
Foyle: But would we have a better chance of getting anything out of him if your daughter came over and had a word with him? What do you think?
Rivers: He might listen to her, sir, but I'm not sure she'd listen to me. I, I can ask her.
Sam: Er, I know here pretty well. Why don't I have a word with her?
Foyle: Good idea. Off you go.
Sam leaves and Rivers picks up the telephone.
A country lane. Hammond is driving along with the suitcase in the back of the car.
Talbot shipyard. Gwen shuts off her welding torch.
Gwen: You've arrested him?
Sam: Not me, Mr Foyle!
Gwen: You promised me you weren't gonna tell him what I told you
Sam: I didn't!
Gwen: So why have they arrested him?
Sam: Gwen, Jack knows something. We have to find out what it is.
Gwen: Is he going to prison?
Sam: I don't know. But it'll be worse for him if he doesn't help.
Gwen: And you think I can persuade him?
Sam: We think he'll listen to you. Come on.
Gwen: Right, I'll talk to him, but after this is over, Sam, I never want to see you again. I thought you were my friend.
She walks off and Sam chases after her.
Sam: Gwen! Gwen! Wait.
Police station. Sam holds the door open for Gwen to enter the reception area. Rivers stands up as she arrives.
Rivers: Gwen.
Gwen: It doesn't matter, Dad.
Foyle steps out from the back.
Foyle: Thanks for coming. He's through here.
He leads her into the back. Rivers exchanges a look with Sam.
Interview room. Gwen sits with Jack while Milner and Foyle wait outside.
Jack: You shouldn't have come here.
Gwen: I had to, Jack. You've got to tell them want they want to know.
Jack: I can't.
Gwen: They're gonna put you in prison. Do you understand that? Forget what Captain Hammond told you. You've got to think of you and me. Please, Jack.
Country lane. Hammond is still driving.
Interview room. Jack is speaking to Foyle and Milner as Gwen looks on.
Jack: All right. There was part of this building. A machine shop. It's condemned. "Dangerous Structure, Keep Out!" All that. And it was in there.
Gwen: What was?
Jack: Money. More money than you'd believe. Enough money to set us up for life. It was easy. We opened up the b*mb, took the expl*sive out, stuffed the notes inside and carried it out under everyone's noses.
Foyle: So, where's the expl*sive now? Hammond said you, er, detonated it along the coast somewhere. Is that not the case?
Jack: We never detonate nothing. He's got the b*mb. He's got the money. He's gone to see the Talbots, hasn't he?
Foyle: Where?
Farmyard. A fancy car sits parked in the muddy yard. Hammond drives up and parks beside it.
Country lane. Sam, Foyle and Milner are driving along.
Sam: But where did the money come from, sir?
Foyle: Well, the Talbots have been claiming wages for about 400 people from the Ministry for Shipping, when in fact they've only got about half that number working for them.
Sam: What?
Hammond: They've been embezzling hundreds of pounds. That's what Jack Archer and his friends found in the warehouse.
Sam: What will they do with him, sir? Will they put him in jail?
Foyle: Depend on the circumstances.
Farm. Hammond makes his way through a group of abandoned buildings with the suitcase. He enters a barn where Mark Talbot sits waiting for him on a bale of hay. Peter steps out of the shadows.
Mark: Is that the money?
Hammond: No, I thought I'd bring along my dirty washing. Thought you might like to clean it for me.
Peter: I don't think you should be funny with us.
Hammond: Why not? The way this w*r's been going, we all need a sense of humour, wouldn't you say?
Mark: Show us.
Hammond: All in good time.
He sets the suitcase down.
Hammond: I'm not a dishonest man. Least, I used not to be. But I thought why not? You see, you've gotta see this from my point of view. My men and I, we've been cannon fodder. Precious little training. No support. In the early days we even had to hitch lifts in civilian cars. And how do we find out how the Germans make their bombs? We wait till one of us gets blown up. Tells us all we need to know. I'll tell you something that may surprise you. Man who invented the electric fuse was a Jerry called Ruhlemann, and he was in London just before the w*r. He even went to an air show and was shown plane factories. He was probably sizing them up. He was a guest of honour. And we're mincemeat. That's how it is. So why not help ourselves? The opportunity of a lifetime, that's how I saw it. My lifetime. Probably wasn't going to be all that long.
Mark: I think we've listened to you for long enough, Captain Hammond.
He stands up.
Peter: Give us the money.
Hammond looks round as two more men enter.
Hammond: I thought we were meeting alone. Which one of you k*lled Ernie Jones?
One of the men glances towards his partner, who raises a g*n.
Hammond: Then I'm very glad you're here.
He turns to look at the Talbots.
Hammond: You were lying to me. You never were just gonna just take back the money, were you?
Mark: Well, what would you have done, Captain Hammond?
Hammond: That's what I thought.
The man with the g*n sh**t him from behind and he collapses over the suitcase.
Outside. Sam, Foyle and Milner are just arriving in the car. As Foyle and Milner get out, they hear the sound of the g*nsh*t.
Inside. Hammond looks up, blood leaking from his mouth.
Hammond: Aren't you gonna count it?
Peter walks up and undoes the suitcase.
The barn explodes. Outside, Foyle, Sam and Milner watch it go up in flames.
Regency Hotel lounge. Foyle brings Sam and Milner drinks.
Sam: This is very kind of you, sir.
Foyle: Well, I thought so.
She laughs.
Sam: Oh. I've been meaning to ask you something, sir. Um, the money. It wasn't blown up, was it?
Milner: No. Hammond had it in his quarters.
Sam: So what did you do with it?
Foyle: We sent it back.
Sam: To the government?
Foyle: What would you have done with it?
Sam: Well, I might have kept some. Gwen could have used it for her wedding.
Foyle: Well, not ours to keep exactly.
Milner: And she's lucky she's still getting married.
Sam: I suppose so. D'you know, I was crossed off the guest list?
Carter and Lucinda hurry down the staircase behind them.
Carter: Mr Foyle. What brings you here? Not me, I hope.
Foyle: No, no, no. Um, malt whisky, getting harder and harder to find.
Carter: Er, forgive me interrupting. I just wanted to say goodbye.
Foyle: Well, I'm not surprised you're leaving.
Lucinda: It's wonderful news.
Foyle: Isn't it?
Sam: What? What happened?
Milner: The Germans have invaded Russia.
Sam: Have they?
Carter: It was on the wireless this morning. Churchill has promised to help the Russian people, so it seems we're on the same side.
Lucinda: It's a turning point. They say Stalin has over seven million men.
Carter: h*tler's overreached himself. I promise you, the w*r can't last much longer. We're going back to London. Good luck to you.
He shakes hands with Foyle.
Foyle: And to you.
Lucinda: Goodbye.
Sam: Bye.
Carter and Lucinda leave.
Sam: Can it be possible? The end of the w*r?
Foyle: Be nice to think so.
Sam: Well, I'm going to drink to it anyway. Over by Christmas?
Milner: They said that last Christmas.
Sam: All right, then. New Year.
Foyle: New Year.
The three of them clink their glasses together.
03x04 - A w*r Of Nerves
Moderator: nomadicwriter
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While WWII rages across the Channel, a police detective reluctantly remains on duty in his quiet English coastal town. The battle comes to Foyle in its own way as he probes w*r-related cases of m*rder, espionage, and treason. Mystery blends with history, moral complexity, and period atmosphere.
While WWII rages across the Channel, a police detective reluctantly remains on duty in his quiet English coastal town. The battle comes to Foyle in its own way as he probes w*r-related cases of m*rder, espionage, and treason. Mystery blends with history, moral complexity, and period atmosphere.