Brenchurch. A m*llitary convoy drives through the streets of the town. The covered trucks are transporting Russian POWs under guard.
Lane between houses. A young boy, Matthew, is kicking a football downhill. His mother steps out from one of the gardens behind him.
Mother: Matthew! Breakfast!
Road. The trucks are approaching. Matthew kicks his football right out in front of one and runs after it. The truck honks its horn as it screeches to halt. In the back, the POWs are thrown around and shout and mutter in Russian. One of the two soldiers seated on guard at the back gets up to lean around the side. POW Ivan Spiakov watches him.
Soldier: Come on! Get a move on!
Matthew's mother runs out into the road to grab him.
Mother: What the hell do you think you're doing?
Matthew: My ball!
Mother: You'll get yourself k*lled.
She pulls him back out of the road.
Matthew: Mum.
Mother: I've told you about the football a million times.
Matthew: I wanna get my ball.
In the back of the truck, Spiakov exchanges looks with the POW opposite, Anton Valyshkin, who gives him a slight nod.
Mother (offscreen): Football is in the park, not...
Spiakov gets up and pushes the soldier who's leaning out off the back of the truck. As the other guard moves to get his w*apon up, Valyshkin tackles him and then Spiakov punches him. They toss him out too, and the two of them jump out. The other POWs behind them try to join the escape, but an army sergeant rushes round to take aim at them.
Sergeant: Stay where you are! Sit down! Down! Sit down!
They put their hands up and back down. Spiakov and Valyshkin make a run for it and the sergeant pursues, opening fire. A woman with a baby carriage shrieks and hurries for cover.
Woman: Oh! Oh, no!
The POWs disappear around a corner. An officer runs up to the sergeant.
Officer: Sergeant, stop f*ring that w*apon now!
Sergeant: Prisoners escaped, sir.
He points after them. The two of them run down a narrow alley.
Sergeant: Two prisoners down the alley. Go, go!
Officer: No weapons to be used here.
He points at a pair of soldiers.
Officer: You two, back in the truck. Guard those prisoners.
The two POWs run along the alley in duck in through an open gate. The pursuing soldiers run on past their hiding place. Then they run back out and scramble to climb over the wall. An army motorcycle drives along the alleyway after them.
The POWs run across a garden and over another wall, coming out into another street. One of the army trucks is already driving up to block one end. The sergeant arrives and opens fire at them as they run downhill. Spiakov climbs another wall. Behind him, the motorcyclist and more soldiers arrive.
Sergeant: Get after them, boys! Go!
Valyshkin runs through a narrow gap between buildings.
Sergeant (offscreen): Prisoners separating.
Spiakov runs along the top of the wall and jumps down.
A soldier climbs aboard one of the trucks.
Soldier: Right, let's go. Go!
They start driving down the street Spiakov has arrived on. He ducks behind a building to hide and they drive past. Then he hurries away.
Valyshkin runs out into a street, straight into the path of one of the trucks.
Officer: Stop the truck! There he is! At the double!
A pair of soldiers chase Valyshkin through a graveyard.
Officer (offscreen): Get him! Move it!
Round the side of a house. Spiakov emerges from the back gate, pulling on a coat he's found somewhere. He grabs a bicycle left leaning against the house wall and rides off down the road.
Viaduct. Valyshkin scrambles up an overgrown bank and runs across the viaduct. The two soldiers pursue. A truck drives towards him from the other direction and he comes to a halt.
Soldier 1: Come on, mate.
Soldier 2: That's it.
The sergeant and more soldiers climb out of the truck.
Sergeant: You two, with me.
Soldier 2: Give up. Stand still.
Soldier 1: Come on.
Soldier 2: That's it.
As the soldiers surround him, Valyshkin runs to climb up on the wall at the side of the viaduct.
Sergeant: No, no, don't sh**t! Stop. Don't sh**t! No, no, stop, wait. Wait.
He approaches Valyshkin where he stands atop the wall.
Sergeant: We're sending you home.
Valyshkin looks down at him, and then looks back.
Sergeant: We're sending you home.
Valyshkin spreads his arms. He looks up at a bird flying above. Then he jumps.
OPENING CREDITS
w*r Office. Aide Andrew Bennet strides through the corridors carrying a file. He pushes between two senior army officers in his hurry.
Brigadier Timothy Wilson's office. Wilson is looking at file photos of Spiakov. He snaps the file shut and turns around.
Wilson: This is a balls-up, isn't it, Bennet?
Bennet: Yes, sir.
Wilson: British soldiers opening fire in an urban area. Well, thank God hardly anyone was around. Only one got away?
Bennet: Yes, sir, just the one.
Wilson: No sign of him since?
Bennet: We may have had one sighting, sir, down on the coast near Hastings.
Wilson: Hastings.
He looks thoughtful.
Hastings.
CAPTION: JUNE 1945
A car plastered with Vote Labour posters drives through the street outside Foyle's house. It passes Maurice Jones, walking along with a stack of flyers. Maurice waves to the driver as he goes by.
Maurice: Ah. Maurice Jones, Labour Party.
He gives a flyer to a woman just coming out of her house.
Woman: Good morning, Mr Jones. Very nice to meet you.
Maurice: And you.
Woman: Thank you.
He walks on, passing another woman.
Maurice: Good morning, madam. Maurice Jones, Labour Party. Remember the name. We'll need every vote on July the 5th. I wonder if I could count on your support?
Woman: Not me. I'm with Winnie.
Maurice: Right.
He walks on, reaching Foyle's house just as Foyle is coming out.
Maurice: Morning, sir.
Foyle: Good morning.
Maurice: Maurice Jones, local candidate for the Labour Party.
Foyle: Are you really now?
Maurice: I was wondering if I could count on your support.
Foyle: D'you know, I've been wondering the same thing.
Maurice: Would you care for some literature? Sets out the need for a new start.
He hands Foyle a flyer.
Foyle: Well, with, erm, rationing and the...
Maurice: I think you'll find Labour has all the answers.
Foyle: ...huge paper shortage, best not, perhaps, don't you think?
He hands the flyer back and walks on down the road.
Senior Officer (voiceover): Detective Chief Superintendent Foyle, I think we all owe you a vote of gratitude.
Foyle sits in front of a panel of three senior police officers.
Foyle: Well, that's, er, uncommonly decent of you but I'm not here to be thanked.
Senior Officer: How is the new station?
Foyle: The new station is delightful apart from the fact that I don't want to be in it. I resigned.
Senior Officer: I'm aware of that.
Senior Officer 2: It was very good of you to return after your predecessor...
Foyle: d*ed.
Senior Officer 2: In very unfortunate circumstances.
Foyle: Well, it's my experience that most deaths are unfortunate, but all of that that was some considerable while ago. I'd like to know why I'm still there and where my replacement is.
Senior Officer: Mr Foyle, you have to understand we have two problems. The first is a chronic shortage of staff, particularly at a senior level. We lost a great many men to the w*r and they're only just beginning to trickle back. Finding someone to take your place will take time.
Foyle: Well, you've had the time.
Senior Officer: But there's another problem. Put simply, you're a hard act to follow.
Senior Officer 2: Can we not persuade you to think again, Foyle? You've been remarkably successful in Hastings and indeed along the whole south coast. Ha. You're too young to retire.
Foyle: Well, retirement has nothing to do with it. I resigned. I returned temporarily to help with what I could see was a difficult situation, but the w*r is over. I'd now like to be remarkably successful somewhere else.
Senior Officer: That might well be the case, but, but right now there is no one else.
Foyle stands up.
Foyle: Four weeks. After that, no matter what, I'll be going.
Redwood Lodge, the estate of Sir Leonard Spencer-Jones. Sam rides a bicycle through the grounds up to the house, passing the young gardener, Nikolai Vladchenko. They exchange waves and Sam heads inside.
Kitchen. Sam sets a string shopping bag down on the table. She takes a book out of it, then goes over to one of the cupboards. She takes out a tin and brings it over to the table. It contains several folded banknotes, and she adds some money from her purse to it before putting it back.
Studio. Sir Leonard is sorting through figure drawings on a table. Sam enters with the book.
Sam: I posted your letters for you, Sir Leonard, and this is the book you wanted. I'm afraid there's still only lamb in the shop, so it's chops. Again.
Sir Leonard: Thank you, Miss Stewart.
One of the sketches in front of him is a nude drawing of Sam. Seeing it, she turns away and moves to leave.
Sir Leonard: What do you think of this?
He's holding an unframed painting of a dove with an olive branch. Sam comes over to look.
Sam: Hmm. It's beautiful.
Sir Leonard: It was given to me by the artist, Karel Fleischer. I met him in Antwerp. He d*ed in Buchenwald. We may have won the w*r but there's still so much to be done.
Sam: I'm sorry, was he a friend of yours?
Sir Leonard: An acquaintance.
He sets the painting down and moves way.
Sir Leonard: I have some letters for you to type for me, Miss Stewart.
He hands her the letters.
Sir Leonard: And this afternoon I thought we might get back to our other work.
Sam: Oh, yes?
Sir Leonard: You still feel uncomfortable?
Sam: No! Not really.
Sir Leonard: No need to be. Thank you for the book.
Sam: By the way, Sir Leonard, I wanted to remind you, I'm taking the whole of Sunday off.
Sir Leonard: Yes, that's fine. Lunch at one?
Sam: Right.
She leaves.
Outside. Nikolai is watering cabbages. Sam walks over to join him.
Sam: Niko! I don't suppose you managed to dig up any potatoes, did you? Only there were none in the shops.
Nikolai: The shops were hempty?
Sam: Empty with an E. Empty. But, yes. Queues everywhere, nothing to queue for. Don't know why people bother.
Nikolai picks up a basket.
Nikolai: Potatoes.
Sam: Perfect. D'you ever think about going home, Niko?
Nikolai: This is my home now.
Sam: Yes, but don't you want to get back to your family?
He shakes his head.
Nikolai: I am happy here. And you, Sam? You are happy too?
Sam: I don't know. I don't know what I'm doing stuck here. But it's either here or Leominster, so...
She turns to head back to the house.
Sam: Lunch at one.
Nikolai: One?
Sam: One o'clock! Thanks.
New Hastings police station. Brigadier Wilson sits opposite the building in a parked car, reading a newspaper. His driver, Shapps, points as he spots Foyle approaching the building.
Shapps: Sir.
Wilson: That's him.
He gets out.
Wilson: You can wait for me here, Shapps.
He heads towards the building.
Inside. Wilson walks through the busy station.
Foyle's office. He's looking through documents over by the window. There's a knock at the door behind him.
Policeman: Sir?
Foyle: Yes.
An officer holds the door for Wilson to enter the room. Foyle turns round and sees him.
Wilson: Foyle.
Foyle: Brigadier.
Wilson: It's very, very good to see you again after all these... what is it? 27 years, and far from pleasant circumstances last time we met. Well, you've done well for yourself. No, congratulations, Foyle. I always knew you'd go far.
Foyle: As far as Hastings.
Wilson: No, no, no. That's why I promoted you when I had the privilege to have you under my command. Erm, may I?
He goes to sit down.
Foyle: Well, of course. Take it this, er, is not a social visit.
Wilson: Oh, that was always the way. Straight to the point. But, er, have you seen any of them, Foyle?
Foyle: Lowe was here. He was at my wedding.
Wilson: Lowe?
Foyle: Ian Lowe. Er, he was blind.
Wilson: Ah, yes. And here we are...
He sighs.
Wilson: Just gone through the whole thing again.
Foyle: Mmm.
Wilson: But you have a son?
Foyle: In London. He's come through it all right.
Wilson sighs in relief.
Wilson: I'm very glad. And I won't take up your time, Foyle. Well, you're quite right, of course. I'm here on w*r Office business. I'm looking for this man.
He takes out the file photo of Spiakov and shows it to Foyle.
Wilson: Erm, Ivan Spiakov. Russian. From Georgia originally. Fought with the Germans against us, captured in Normandy.
Foyle: What makes you think he's here?
Wilson: Well, he was in Brenchurch two days ago when he slipped out of our hands. We believe he was heading west, and it's absolutely vital that we find him.
Foyle: One escaped prisoner.
Wilson: Oh, Spiakov is a troublemaker. Hah. An agitator. At the moment we have more than twelve hundred Russian POWs in England. They all fought on the German side. And some of them... Well, to describe them as animals wouldn't be putting it too strongly. Did you hear what happened in the village of Saint-Donat? June the 15th last year. German reprisal against the Resistance. They sent the Russians in. Ooh, it was a bloodbath. 53 women r*ped, and all the rest of it.
Foyle: This man was there?
Wilson: Oh, no, no, no. I just want you to understand what these people roused are capable of. We're trying to get them out of the country quietly, peacefully and he's determined to whip them up against us.
Foyle: I'm not sure how I, er...
Wilson: Oh, I came to you, Foyle, because you know this area. You can find him. If he's still here, which I have every reason to believe he is. Well, he had no money, nowhere else to go. But, er, more to the point, I can trust you to keep it under your hat. Report to me directly. Now, we don't want to scare the local populace. So, er, might I ask you to use your men, your resources?
Foyle: Er, of course.
Wilson: Good man. I knew I could count on you. Well, you can contact me at the w*r Office. Er, please let me know as soon as you have any news. And... it'd be good to have a proper chat one day.
He leaves.
Sir Leonard's estate. Nikolai is pushing a wheelbarrow through the grounds. Spiakov hisses to him through the undergrowth.
Spiakov: Psst.
Nikolai stops for a moment, then moves on.
Spiakov: Psst.
This time Nikolai goes over to investigate, and sees Spiakov.
Nikolai: Ivan!
Spiakov holds up a finger to shush him. Nikolai rushes forward and hugs him. The two of them speak in Russian.
Nikolai (subtitled): What are you doing here?
Spiakov (subtitled): I need your help.
Nikolai (subtitled): Why, what's happened?
Spiakov (subtitled): You're in danger. We are all in danger.
Nikolai (subtitled): What are you talking about?
Spiakov (subtitled): Nikolai, listen to me. You have to get out of here. You have to go to London. To the Russian House.
Nikolai (subtitled): What is the Russian House?
Spiakov (subtitled): I'm going there. But I need food. I need money.
Nikolai (subtitled): I have no money.
Spiakov jerks his head towards the house.
Spiakov (subtitled): Please.
Nikolai looks at the house, then back at him.
Milner's house. He sits at the table, reading a newspaper. Edith picks up the teapot from the table.
Edith: Let me make you some more tea.
Milner: Er, no, I'm all right, thank you.
He checks his watch and stands up.
Milner: Erm, I have to be on my way.
Edith: You never talk about your work.
Milner: There's not much to tell.
Edith: Go on, I'm interested.
Milner: Well, we had a school broken into last week. The staff lost two months' tea money. And there've been a couple of late-night smash and grabs.
Edith: Shouldn't turn off the streetlights.
Milner: Saves fuel. Sometimes I think I'm just k*lling time.
Edith: You're missing Hastings.
Milner: No. No, I'm not. I like being here with you. I like Brighton. And it was time to move. You wait and see.
Edith: What?
Milner: Things are going to change, Edie. There are ex-servicemen pouring back into the country, g*ns everywhere. And what with all these shortages.
Edith: You want to prove yourself.
Milner: I want to show that I can manage.
Edith: Without Mr Foyle.
Bradley house. Tom Bradley, a returning soldier, approaches the building. He stands for a moment outside the front door. His brother Joe, also in an army uniform, opens it and sees him.
Joe: Tom.
Tom: Joe.
Joe: Am I glad to see you. Come in.
Inside. Joe pours Tom some tea.
Joe: So, how was it?
Tom: Bloody shambles. All of it, start to finish.
Joe: You wanna talk about it?
Tom: No. You were well out of it, Joe, believe me.
Joe: I wanted to be where you were, Tom. I'd have given anything.
Tom: Well... you were the one who inherited Dad's flat feet.
Joe laughs.
Joe: And you were the one that got all the gongs.
Tom: Oh, yeah? Africa Star, Italy Star. Got them for showing up.
Joe: And what did I get? Four years wet-nursing a bunch of Jerries.
Tom: What are they like?
Joe: Oh, they weren't too bad. A bit surly some of them. But good workers. We had a bunch of them draining the land up at Ted Walker's place.
Tom: Old Ted. Don't tell me he's still in the land of the living.
Joe: So, what are you gonna do, Tom, now that you're back?
Tom: I hoped you'd put me up for a bit.
Joe: Course. You're welcome. Are you gonna see Mum and Dad?
Tom: In time. I've got to find work.
Joe: Any thoughts?
Tom: Yeah, I thought I'd see Spencer-Jones. Sir Leonard, you know. He'll give me my old job back.
Joe: You sure about that, Tom?
Tom: What d'you mean?
Joe: Well, things have changed. A lot of water's gone under the bridge since you went away.
Tom: No, he'll see me right. He promised. I'll see him tomorrow.
Joe: And now?
Tom: A bit of shuteye. I'm knackered.
Joe: I'll leave you to it. It's good to see you, Tom.
Tom: Good to be back.
Joe leaves. Joe sits quietly for a while, and sighs.
Brenchurch. Foyle drives through the streets.
Outside Brenchurch police station. Foyle walks along with a uniformed police sergeant.
Sergeant: I was wondering when they'd send in a senior officer, sir.
Foyle: Well, sorry to disappoint. I haven't been sent in.
Sergeant: Someone ought to have an inquiry. You can't have a sh**t in a civilian population. It's like the wild west.
Redwood Lodge, kitchen. Sam is clearing away dishes from a meal. She sees that the cupboard is slightly open and the money tin has been left on the side. She picks it up with a rattle, and tips the contents out on the table. Only coins are left. The notes are all gone.
Brenchurch. Foyle and the police sergeant are showing Spiakov's picture to Matthew's mother, and then to Matthew. They both shake their heads. As Matthew points off at something behind Foyle, the sergeant beckons an older woman over to join them.
Redwood Lodge grounds. Nikolai is sitting smoking by the vegetable beds. Sam walks out to join him. They both wave to a car just arriving.
Sam: Niko.
She sits down opposite him and clears her throat.
Sam: Have you been into the kitchen since lunchtime?
Nikolai: No, Miss Stewart.
Sam: Well, someone has. Niko, I hate having to ask you this. You know the tin where I keep the housekeeping?
Nikolai: I didn't take it.
Sam: But you know it's been taken. Do you know who took it?
Nikolai: You have to help me. They are going to take me away.
Sam: What do you mean? Look, I, I don't know what you're going on about, but you can't just help yourself to the housekeeping. Who took it?
Nikolai: A friend. I met him in camp. He has gone to the Russian House. He tell me I have to go there too.
Sam: What Russian House?
Nikolai: In London. He says it's where I will be safe. He tell me I have to go there too. He tell me they come for me, they take me.
He stands up and walks away to toss his cigarette down. Sam follows him.
Sam: Niko. Listen to me. Trust me. Nobody's going to take you anywhere. I promise you. I won't let them. There was £5 in that tin. You can't just give it away. We're going to have to tell Sir Leonard.
Brenchurch. Foyle and the police sergeant are just speaking with the woman with the baby carriage who witnessed the sh**ting.
Foyle: Thank you very much. So, there were two of them.
Sergeant: Apparently, sir.
Foyle: What happened to them?
Sergeant: I heard they headed off towards the old viaduct.
Riverbank. Foyle walks along the bank, passing a man with a fishing rod.
Foyle: Afternoon.
Fisherman: Afternoon.
He follows Foyle.
Fisherman: You from the papers then?
Foyle: No. Why would you ask that?
Fisherman: I thought I might have read something sometime but there's been nothing. 'Cause I saw it, you know.
Foyle: Did you?
Fisherman: Yeah, I was just down there.
Foyle: Two Russians escaped from a convoy as far as I understand it.
Fisherman: Two of them, you say? No, I only saw one, poor sod.
Flashback to Valyshkin running along the riverbank towards the viaduct, two soldiers in pursuit. A truck approaches. Down on the riverbank, the fisherman is watching.
Fisherman (voiceover): He was trapped, you see. There was a truck following him and a whole squad of soldiers. One of them called out to him.
Soldier (offscreen): Give up. It's over.
Cut back to the present.
Fisherman: He wasn't having any of it. He just... stood there for a minute, and then he did it.
Foyle: He did what?
Fisherman: He jumped.
Flashback to the fisherman watching as Valyshkin jumps.
Cut back to the present.
Foyle: So he k*lled himself, is that what you're saying?
Fisherman: In broad daylight. Threw himself off the edge. Russky, you say?
Foyle: So I believe.
The fisherman tuts.
Fisherman: Well, he's a dead Russky now, poor sod. Why do you think he'd do a thing like that?
Foyle: Good question.
Bradley house. Tom comes down the stairs in a suit. Joe walks in and sees him.
Joe: Look at you, dressed up to the nines.
Tom: Think I look all right?
Joe: You really want this job, don't you?
Tom: Well, I've got to get back to work. There's not much else around.
Joe: You should go back in the Army.
Tom: Got to be kidding. How much longer are you going to keep up this malarkey?
Joe: Search me. Still got Jerries, Russkies, even a few Eyeties. They've all got to go home. Then maybe I can pack it in too.
Tom checks his watch.
Tom: I ought to be going.
Joe: You want some toast?
Tom: Er... no.
Joe: Good luck, Tom.
Tom: I shouldn't need that, should I?
He leaves.
Sir Leonard's studio. Sir Leonard is working on a big painting while Sam and Nikolai stand behind him.
Sir Leonard: Who was this man?
Nikolai: Ivan. I meet him in the camp.
Sam: Met him.
Nikolai: Yes.
Sam: They were prisoners together.
Nikolai: Before they released me. Before I come here.
Sir Leonard: It was wrong of you to give him the money. I hope you understand that. The money wasn't yours to give. This talk of you being forced to do anything against your will is arrant nonsense. The w*r is over. You're a citizen of an Allied country under Home Office jurisdiction, and I see absolutely no reason why you shouldn't be allowed to stay here as a residential alien.
Sam: They can't force him to go home.
Nikolai: I want to stay here.
Sir Leonard: Well, I've been in touch with a man at the Home Office. I'll write to him again and get this whole business sorted out. I'm not without influence. And I've also written to Walter Hardiman, my solicitor, and I can assure you we're not going to let this go.
Nikolai: Thank you, Sir Leonard. You are very kind. You and Miss Stewart. You have been very kind to me.
There's a knock at the door.
Sir Leonard: I'm not expecting anyone.
Sam: I'll see who it is, Sir Leonard.
She goes to open the door. Tom Bradley is outside.
Sam: Yes?
Study. Tom stands in front of Sir Leonard.
Sir Leonard: I'm sorry, Tom.
Tom: But you promised.
Sir Leonard: That was six years ago. I said I would do what I could.
Tom: You said you'd keep my job open for me. Anytime. You said. I went to w*r.
Sir Leonard: And I'm very glad to see you back again. I'll of course do what I can for you.
Tom: You lied to me. You'll do nothing.
He leaves. Behind Sir Leonard, Sam is watching them through the glass door.
A street in Hastings. Foyle descends a set of stairs and enters a basement café.
Elsa (offscreen): Mr Foyle! Now there's someone I haven't seen for a long time.
Elsa Constantin is behind the counter.
Elsa: You want a drink?
Foyle: Thank you. I've heard about the coffee.
Elsa: It's the best coffee in Hastings. The only coffee that tastes of coffee.
Elsa: It's good to see you open again.
Elsa: We should never have closed. No aliens allowed in Hastings during the w*r.
Foyle: Mmm.
Elsa: So, who are you looking for? I probably haven't seen him.
Foyle takes out the picture of Spiakov and shows it to her.
Elsa: What's he done?
Foyle: Well, nothing as far as we know. We'd just like to talk to him.
Elsa: And what makes you think he'd come here?
Foyle: Well, doesn't everybody, sooner or later? They certainly used to.
Elsa: Yes, maybe. But not him. I haven't seen him. If he's done nothing, why do you want to talk to him?
Foyle: Well, he may be in trouble.
Elsa: There are a great many Russians in this country. POWs. They could all be in trouble.
Foyle: Meaning?
Elsa: There are rumours. Joseph Stalin wants them back, and he will not welcome them with open arms.
Foyle: So they're frightened...
Elsa: There is a saying. You may have heard it. The dog knows what happens to him when he steals the bacon. Until now the British government has protected them, but it is possible that that protection may be withdrawn.
Foyle: Well, his name's, er, Spiakov if you felt able to ask around.
Elsa: I can try. But I must tell you, Mr Foyle, right now people are not talking, not to me. And when they talk to each other, they whisper.
Foyle: Do what you can.
Elsa: Of course.
He finishes his coffee and sets the cup down.
Foyle: Good coffee.
He leaves.
London. Spiakov makes his way through the streets and approaches the Russian House.
Inside. A man escorts Spiakov through a grand entrance hall and up a set of stairs.
Lounge. Spiakov stands looking around, under the guard of Alex Anokhov. An older man, Monsieur Duveen, enters. He nods to a woman standing by, who moves forward to pour some tea. Spiakov says something in Russian.
Spiakov: Monsieur Duveen?
Duveen: We speak English here only, my friend. It is out of politeness to the country that has been such a generous host.
The woman hands him his cup of tea.
Duveen: Thank you.
He says something to Spiakov in Russian.
Spiakov: Yes, I speak English.
Duveen: Then, yes, I am Duveen. Sit down.
Spiakov takes a seat, and looks back at Anokhov behind him.
Duveen: Some tea for our guest. So, have you come far?
Spiakov: I was in the south, near the sea. I was in a camp. Me and a friend of mine escaped.
Anokhov: Why did you come here?
Spiakov: I have heard many people speaking about the Russian House. They said it is somewhere I would be safe.
Duveen: The police are looking for you?
Spiakov: Maybe. The police, the Army.
Duveen: But what is it you think we can do for you?
Spiakov: I need money. I, I, I need somewhere to hide.
Anokhov leans in to stare at him from close up.
Anokhov: You do not wish to return to Mother Russia?
Spiakov: No.
Duveen: Why?
Spiakov: Because I know what happened in Odessa. The ship called the Almanzora.
Anokhov exchanges a look with Duveen, then grabs Spiakov by the arm to pull him up.
Anokhov: You cannot stay here. We have no room for you. And if the British authorities come looking for you-
Spiakov: I have nowhere to go!
Duveen raises a hand for calm.
Duveen: We can arrange somewhere for you to stay. Don't worry. Food and money. Who else have you told about these things?
Spiakov: There is no need to tell. They all know.
Duveen: Hmm.
He turns to leave the room.
Anokhov: You should not stay here. We will arrange for you to be taken somewhere safe.
Outside. Anokhov leads Spiakov out of the building to a waiting car, and leans in to say something to the driver. Someone watches from above as Anokhov returns to the building.
Walter Hardiman's house. Sam drives Sir Leonard up to the house.
Sir Leonard: D'you mind waiting here?
Sam: Um, no, Sir Leonard. I'm... used to it.
He gets out and walks towards the house.
Study.
Hardiman: Very good to see you, Leonard. Sherry?
Sir Leonard: No, thank you. You got my letter?
Hardiman: Er, yes. This young Russian. Nikolai...
He picks up the letter.
Sir Leonard: Vladchenko.
Hardiman: How did you actually come across him?
Sir Leonard: He was in a camp near Brighton. Then he was assigned a work detail and he ended up working in my grounds. I took a liking to him and offered him a room. He's been there ever since.
Hardiman: Well, it's more than commendable, your desire to help him, but I, I must say your letter did surprise me. To adopt him?
Sir Leonard: Why not? He wants to stay in this country.
Hardiman: Doesn't he have parents of his own?
Sir Leonard: They're quite probably dead. Anyway, he'll never see them again.
Hardiman: But you have a son.
Sir Leonard: Maurice and I are no longer on speaking terms.
Hardiman: Even so-
Sir Leonard: Maurice has got nothing to do with this.
Hardiman: Leonard, forgive me, I've known you for many, many years and I know how... headstrong you can be but Maurice isn't a bad chap. To fall out over a political difference? Does it really matter so much?
Back door. Maurice Jones lets himself into the house. He listens to the conversation going on in the study.
Sir Leonard (offscreen): It matters to me. Everything we've fought for for the last six years? I'm not going stand back and watch it being thrown away by a government that will bring the country to its knees.
Study.
Hardiman: You really think that?
Sir Leonard: You don't?
Hardiman: You can't just cut Maurice out of your life.
Sir Leonard: Let me stop you right there, Walter. I came to talk about Nikolai, not Maurice. And if you won't do what I want, let me make myself quite clear.
Hallway. Maurice continues to stand listening in.
Sir Leonard (offscreen): I'll find a solicitor that will.
Hardiman (offscreen): Cut Maurice out of your will? Make out everything to this-
Study.
Sir Leonard: Yes.
Hardiman: All right. If you're absolutely insistent.
Sir Leonard: How long will it take?
Hardiman: Well, a few days.
Sir Leonard: Thank you.
Hallway. Maurice is still there.
Hardiman (offscreen): But I really think you're making a-
Sir Leonard (offscreen): That's enough.
Sir Leonard leaves the study and heads out of the front door without noticing Maurice. Hardiman stands on the doorstep as he and Sam drive off. Maurice steps up to join him.
Maurice: He's really made up his mind.
Hardiman: I'm sorry, Maurice. I did try.
Maurice: He doesn't know what he's doing. He's senile.
He heads back inside.
Brighton. Foyle is walking along when Sam calls out from behind him.
Sam (offscreen): Good morning, sir.
He turns as she hurries to catch up.
Foyle: Good morning. How are you?
Sam: Very well.
Foyle: How are you getting on at, erm...
Sam: Sir Leonard's? Takes a little bit of getting used to.
Foyle: They keeping you busy, eh?
Sam: I'll say. I'm the cook, the housekeeper, the secretary, the driver and more besides. How about you? How's Brookie?
Foyle: Oh, well, he just left to, er, go back up to London.
Sam: Did he? That's a shame. How's the new office?
Foyle: Well, I'm trying to avoid it as much as possible.
Sam: But they won't let you leave?
Foyle: Well, working on it.
Sam: Oh.
Church. Milner and Edith are outside the building with a group of others, Edith holding baby Clementine. Milner turns as Sam and Foyle arrive.
Milner: Sir. Good to see you.
Foyle: Milner. Good to see you too.
They shake hands. Edith comes over with the baby.
Foyle: Edith.
Milner: Sam.
Edith: How lovely to see you.
Foyle: And you.
Sam: She's adorable.
Edith: She's wonderful. And I'm just so pleased to think of her growing up in a world without w*r.
Redwood Lodge. Maurice drives up and parks grounds.
Grounds. Sir Leonard approaches Nikolai where he's refilling the fountain.
Sir Leonard: Have you done the work on that wall? You have? Good.
Maurice watches from the trees nearby as the two of them head into the building together.
Edith (voiceover): I hope you'll join us for a drink afterwards, Mr Foyle.
They group are walking into the church building together.
Edith: We managed to hold onto a few bottles of Empire sherry. And we have a cake.
Foyle: I'll be glad to.
Milner: Cardboard icing.
Edith: Oh, there's no icing, but the cake's real.
Redwood Lodge. Tom Bradley loads a cartridge into a shotgun and walks forward.
Church.
Vicar: As we gather here today for the christening of Clementine Elizabeth Milner, it seems an appropriate moment to remember the sacrifices that have been made. The many, many lives that have been lost.
Redwood Lodge. Nikolai, working in the grounds, sees an Army truck arrive.
Vicar (voiceover): At times it may have seemed almost purposeless.
Nikolai flattens himself against a wall, then hurries back into the house.
Vicar (voiceover): Yet now here is a little girl who will be able to grow up in peace and security.
Back door. Tom walks through the grounds with his shotgun. Sir Leonard is visible through the glass door.
Vicar (voiceover): Free of the great evil that has gripped the world over the past six years.
Front door. Soldiers approach the building. The one in the lead knocks.
Back door. Tom halts as he sees Sir Leonard moving off to answer the knock.
Vicar (voiceover): Will you pray for Clementine?
Church. The gathering are still listening to the vicar.
Vicar (offscreen): And by your own good example, draw her into the family of Christ?
Godparents: We will.
Redwood Lodge. Tom starts walking towards the building again.
Vicar (voiceover): Will you support her as she walks in the way of Christ?
w*r Office. Andrew Benet hurries along a corridor to catch up with Brigadier Wilson.
Benet: Sir. We've found him.
Wilson takes a sheet of paper from him and looks at it, then sighs in relief.
Wilson: Good.
Church.
Vicar: Will you encourage her to take her rightful place within the light of Christ's church?
All: We will.
Edith hands the baby over to the vicar.
Hotel room at the Albion Crescent Hotel. Spiakov is lying on the bed, and sits up with a jolt as someone rams to the door and soldiers rush in. They secure his hands and lead him out.
Soldier: Come on! Come on!
Vicar (voiceover): Clementine Elizabeth, I baptise thee in the name of the Father.
The Russian House. Duveen smokes a cigarette while Anokhov watches him from behind.
Vicar (voiceover): And of the Son.
Church.
Vicar: And of the Holy Ghost.
He pours water onto the baby.
Redwood Lodge. There's a g*nsh*t from inside the building, startling the birds away.
Church. The baby begins to wail.
Redwood Lodge. Nikolai leaves the building through the front door at a run.
Outside the hotel. Spiakov is shoved into a car.
Outside Redwood Lodge. Maurice gets back into his car.
Outside the hotel. The hotel owner, Edna Howard, watches as the m*llitary vehicle holding Spiakov drives off.
Outside Redwood Lodge. Maurice drives away.
Redwood Lodge, study. The room looks like it's been ransacked. Sir Leonard lies dead on the floor.
Redwood Lodge grounds. A policeman salutes as a car drives past points off towards the building. Milner gets out and approaches DC Perkins, already on the scene.
Milner: Perkins.
Perkins: The name's Sir Leonard Spencer-Jones, sir. Meaning anything?
Milner: No.
Perkins: Apparently he's an artist. I can't say I'd ever heard of him either. Not that he'll be doing any more painting. sh*t in the chest at close range.
Milner: Who found him?
Perkins: Er, he's got a housekeeper, a sort of secretary. Er, name of Stewart.
Milner: Stewart?
Inside. A photographer is taking pictures of the scene as Sam leads Milner and Perkins inside.
Sam: I can't believe it's you, Milner. I suppose I should call you Detective Inspector Milner now.
Milner: Do you have any idea what happened?
Sam: No, I don't know what happened. I had the day off, as you know, for the christening. Um...
Perkins goes over to look out of a window.
Sam (offscreen): I spent the night in Hastings. When I came back this morning...
Cut back to Sam and Milner.
Sam: he was just lying there. And then I realised he'd been - well, you know - and called you. At least, I called the police. I never thought it'd be you who'd show up. It's a bit like old times.
Milner: Erm, not really, Sam.
Sam: No. I suppose not.
Milner: The windows were open?
Sam: The French windows? Yes. And the whole place was in a bit of a state. Well, like it is now.
Perkins: Could have been a break-in, sir.
Sam: Is he your new driver?
Milner: Sam.
Sam: It could have been a break-in. I had a look round, and there's definitely a one or two things missing. His wallet's gone from his desk by the front door. Sir Leonard always kept it in there.
Milner: And the paintings? His paintings.
Sam: What?
Milner: Are they not valuable?
Sam: I suppose so.
Perkins: They're back through here.
He points off towards the studio. Sam hastily moves in front of him.
Sam: I'll show you.
Studio. Sam leads the two of them down the steps into the studio.
Sam: It doesn't look as though anyone's touched anything. I'm afraid he always kept the place in a bit of a mess.
She quickly covers up the sketch on one of the easels and stands in front of it.
Milner: We'll take an inventory to see if there's anything missing.
Sam: Is that really necessary?
Milner: Yes.
Sam: I might have a list somewhere.
Milner: No, it's all right, we'll do it. Sam. D'you know if anyone had a grudge against Sir Leonard?
Sam: Do you mean did he have any enemies? Well, as a matter of fact there was one. And I'm afraid it was rather my fault.
Milner: Who was that?
Tom: His name was Tom Bradley.
Bradley house.
Tom: What we gonna do?
Joe: We?
Tom: We've got to go to the police.
Joe: We don't have to do anything, Tom. What difference does it make?
Tom: He's dead.
Joe: A lot of people are dead. Millions of them. He's just one more.
Tom: I should never have gone back to that bloody house.
Joe: Just keep quiet about it. Nobody knows anything. Nobody's gonna find out.
Tom: How can you be so sure?
Joe: It'll be all right, Tom. Trust me. It'll be all right.
Redwood Lodge. Sam follows Milner and Perkins through the building.
Milner: Did he actually make any threats?
Sam: Er... no, not that I heard. But I know Sir Leonard was very upset. And, actually, I, I didn't feel too good myself.
Perkins: You'd done him out of a job?
Sam: Well, Niko and I, yes.
Milner: Niko?
Sam: Oh, I was gonna tell you about him. Nikolai Vladchenko. He's Russian.
Milner: Well, I think I could have worked that one out. Who he is?
Sam: He's been working here on the gardens and the grounds. Um, he's an ex-prisoner. The Americans caught him in Normandy and handed him over to us.
Milner: And do you know where he is?
Sam: He should be here. I can't understand it.
Milner and Perkins exchange a look.
Hastings Castle. Foyle walks through the ruins, and sees Elsa Constantin waiting for him. He walks over to join her on a bench.
Elsa: It seems that I can help you, Mr Foyle. Although I wondered if I should.
Foyle: Why would that be?
Elsa: It is a strange thing, you know, the end of the w*r. Everyone thinks that everything is going be all right. The good people won.
He sits down next to her.
Foyle: Never as simple as that, is it?
Elsa: I never thought so and now I know it. I start asking questions for you. It brings nothing but trouble. I shouldn't even be seeing you.
Foyle: Well, I noticed I didn't get invited for coffee.
Elsa: Ivan Spiakov. I may have an idea where you can find him.
Foyle: Mm-hmm.
Elsa: There were three of them in the camp together. Ivan Spiakov, Anton Valyshkin and the youngest, a boy called Nikolai Vladchenko. The boy, Nikolai, was released early. He was only sixteen at the time. He was sent to a place near Brighton. A house called Redwood Lodge.
Approach to Redwood Lodge. Foyle drives towards the estate.
Elsa (voiceover): If you are looking for Spiakov it is possible you will find him there.
Walter Hardiman's study. He sets the phone down, looking sombre. Maurice Jones appears in the doorway.
Maurice: So you've heard.
Hardiman: I don't believe it.
Maurice: Somebody sh*t him.
Hardiman: Somebody?
Maurice: You don't think I had anything to do with it, do you?
Hardiman: Your father was my friend, Maurice. I knew him for many, many years. Of course, what happened between you, I thought it was wrong.
Maurice: You think I did it. Why, because we didn't share the same politics?
Hardiman: Not politics, no. I should never have told you what he was planning. He came here in confidence.
Maurice: Cut me off without a penny and put a Russian gardener in my place. Yes, I had gathered that.
Hardiman: I broke his trust.
Maurice: And now he's dead. Funny... how it goes.
Redwood Lodge. Foyle parks near the other police cars and gets out. A uniformed policeman approaches him.
Foyle: DCS Foyle.
Policeman: Sir.
As Foyle approaches the building, Milner and Perkins are just coming out.
Milner: Chief Superintendent. Can I ask what you're doing here?
Foyle: Oh, I was about to ask you the same thing.
Milner: I'm afraid there's been a m*rder.
Foyle: Is Sam here?
Milner: Sam is inside. Er, she was the one who found the body. If you came to see her I'm afraid that won't be possible right now.
Foyle: Well, no, I'm, er, here to see Sir Leonard Spencer-Jones.
Perkins: That won't be possible either.
Foyle: I beg your pardon?
Perkins: He's the one who's dead.
Foyle: Sorry, you're...?
Perkins: Detective Constable Perkins.
Foyle: D'you know, in my day, a detective constable wouldn't dream of addressing a chief superintendent without permission, and certainly not without calling him sir.
Milner: No, it's all right, Perkins.
Perkins moves away.
Milner: Sir, can I ask why you wanted to see Sir Leonard? I should remind you that this matter is in my jurisdiction. And if you any have information...
Foyle: I don't need reminding, and I've no interest in this or any other matter within your jurisdiction. I'm here for information regarding a missing Russian.
Milner: Nikolai Vladchenko. We want to talk to him too.
Foyle: Is he a suspect?
Milner: I'm afraid I can't tell you that. Well, It's too early to say. I've only just finished talking to Sam. I've just taken her statement.
Foyle: Well, if she's just found her employer dead it sounds as if she needs a bit of support so I'll be going in, then.
Milner: Yes. Follow me.
He leads Foyle in.
Inside. Milner approaches one of the policemen.
Milner: Where's Miss Stewart?
Policemen: In the studio, sir.
Milner starts to head that way, and sees Foyle has stopped to look around at the ransacked room.
Milner: This way, sir.
Foyle: Mm-hmm.
Studio. Perkins is looking at a pile of sketches that includes one of Sam. She moves to take them from him.
Sam: Um, those are the more recent ones. He was sending them to the Academy.
Milner arrives.
Milner: Sam?
She hides the sketches away in a folder.
Sam: Um, I was just helping with the inventory. I'm sure there's no need to list everything.
She sees Foyle behind him.
Sam: Mr Foyle! What are you doing here?
Foyle: Well, I'm not here because of this. Er, just a question of two incidents coinciding.
Sam: Another m*rder?
Foyle: No, no, no. No, it's, er...
One of the police walks past an easel and accidentally drags off the cloth covering it up. Foyle sees the picture and stops for a moment. He gives Sam a look, and she hides her face behind her hand.
Milner: Sir, I need to know why you want to see Nikolai Vladchenko.
Foyle covers the nude sketch of Sam on the easel back up before anyone else sees it.
Foyle: Well, if you need to know, Milner, you only need to ask. And you're wrong, it's not Vladchenko I'm here to see, it's a friend of his, another Russian, who, as far as I'm aware at the moment, has nothing to do with any of this.
Milner: Well, if he came here he could be a suspect.
Foyle: I'm not at all sure he came here.
Sam: Niko's friend. He did- he did come here. There was some money taken. He came and then he left. Niko told me about him. I never saw him, but his name was... Ivan Spiakov.
Foyle: Answers my question.
Milner: Mine too. Sir.
He leaves. Sam stands around looking uncomfortable, hesitant to meet Foyle's eyes.
Foyle: Interesting work.
Outside.
Sam (offscreen): I'd been working for him for a couple of weeks. And I liked him.
She and Foyle walk along the patio together.
Sam: He was very civilised. And then one day he was started talking about his work and he asked me if I'd like to pose for him.
Foyle: Mm-hmm.
Sam: He was going to put the sketches towards a piece that was going for the Royal Academy.
Foyle: Oh, right.
Sam: I mean, me, without a stitch on. Can you imagine what my father would have said? I mean, I did ask him not to. But he said it was going to be one of his best works and I ought not to be ashamed about it and...
She stops walking.
Sam: I was actually quite worried about it.
Foyle: Well, don't be.
Sam: I felt so shabby, I suppose.
Foyle: Well, it's not going to happen now, is it?
Sam: No. I hope not.
Foyle: Shouldn't mention any of this to Milner.
Sam: Why not?
Foyle: Well, I don't want to put ideas into his head, but you've got a very good motive for wanting to put a b*llet into this chap.
Sam: You're right.
Foyle: Well, I know, of course, you didn't, but... did you?
Sam: No! Course not.
Foyle: Just checking.
She laughs. They both turn to look back towards the house. Milner is visible speaking with Perkins.
Sam: He's not the same, is he, sir, Milner?
They start walking back together.
Sam: He was pretty unfriendly to me. And he's already decided Niko did it, which is completely unfair.
Foyle: How well do you know him?
Sam: Very well. He's sweet. He's only seventeen. No, I like him.
Foyle: Any idea where he is?
She stops walking and sighs.
Sam: If I tell you, could I come with you? It's just that Niko was so frightened and I promised him I'd stand by him. This other Russian. He was here a couple of days before this happened. He was the one who took the housekeeping money. I never met him but Niko knew where he was going. It was called the Russian House. In London.
Foyle: Thank you.
He heads back towards the building, and she chases after him.
Sam: I could drive you.
Foyle: I could drive you.
w*r Office. Brigadier Wilson hustles along a corridor.
Navy Officer: Sir.
Wilson enters a conference room where a number of senior officers from various different services are gathered. Bennet turns as he enters and moves after him.
Wilson: Gentlemen. This situation is completely... I have to say, I'm almost lost for words.
Bennet hands him a file.
Wilson: You are all aware, I imagine, of what is at stake here. We're meant to be operating in the utmost secrecy, yet here, just days apart and a few miles from each other, we have two situations. Two intolerable situations!
He sits down at the head of the table.
Wilson: Bennet.
Bennet: Ivan Spiakov is now under close guard, sir, on the way to Liverpool where he'll be on the first ship out.
Wilson: And what flak do we have from this Brenchurch escape?
Bennet: Well, there were witnesses, of course, but nobody was hurt, apart from the one Russian, and we have managed to keep a lid on it.
Wilson: And this business of Sir Leonard Spencer-Jones. Are we going to keep a lid on that?
Man: We're taking the necessary steps.
Wilson: No, the necessary steps would be to have the idiots involved transferred to the Outer Hebrides. And what about this boy Vladchenko?
Bennet: Ah, I have Sir Leonard's letter here.
He gives it to Wilson.
Bennet: Obviously, we want to talk to him...
London. Nikolai arrives outside the Russian House and heads towards the building.
Bennet (voiceover): But at the moment he's on the run and we have no idea where he is.
Wilson (voiceover): He's left Brighton?
Bennet (voiceover): The police are looking for him.
Conference room.
Wilson: Let's hope we find him before they do. We're sitting on a time b*mb here, gentlemen. Sir Leonard Spencer-Jones isn't just anybody. We have here a hugely respected establishment figure who's been sh*t dead in his own home. I want a daily report on your progress and I want this boy Vladchenko found.
He stands up and strides away from the table.
Wilson: That is all!
The door slams.
Milner house. Edith, the baby over her shoulder, gets up from the breakfast table, as does Milner.
Milner: Right, I must go.
He goes over to kiss her on the cheek.
Edith: You didn't say a word to me last night.
She sets the baby down in her pram.
Edith: And you hardly said anything over breakfast. What is it, Paul?
Milner: Nothing.
Edith: Tell me.
Milner: It's this case.
Edith: The m*rder? I thought it was what you wanted, something to get your teeth into. This man, Spencer-Jones, wasn't he quite important?
Milner: He was very important.
Edith: Well, when you find out who did it, won't that stand you in good stead?
Milner: I think I know who did it. He had a, a Russian living with him, an ex-prisoner.
Edith: And he was the one?
Milner: Well, he's run away. Money and other things were stolen from the house, and a witness saw him taking a train from Brighton station, so it looks fairly cut and dried.
Edith: So what are you worrying about?
Milner: Mr Foyle is involved. He was at the house.
Edith: But that's good, isn't it?
Milner: I worked with him for five years and I know what I owe him, but this time I wanted to do this on my own.
Edith: Well, it's your case. Why don't you just ask him to go away?
Milner: I already have. That's what worries me. I think I may have been...
Edith: What? Look, what does it matter, Paul? As long as you make the arrest. As you sure it was this Russian?
Milner: I wish I was.
He heads out. She follows him outside.
Neighbour (offscreen): Morning.
Edith: Paul. You're in charge now. You go out there and do it your way.
They kiss and he turns to leave.
A country road. Foyle is driving along with Sam in the passenger seat.
Sam: This is very kind of you, sir, letting me come with you.
Foyle: Well, least I can do in the circumstances.
Sam: So you don't have a driver now?
Foyle: That's right. After you left I thought it was about time, you know?
Sam: Hmm.
Foyle: And I'm not going to be there much longer anyway.
Sam: Then what?
Foyle: Er, I might go to America.
Sam: America?
Foyle: Unfinished business.
Sam: They drive on the other side of the road there.
Foyle: They do.
Sam: Might need some help with that.
He chuckles. They drive on.
A grand public building. A car stops outside and Milner gets out. The car leaves as he walks towards the building.
Inside. Maurice is speaking in front of a crowd.
Maurice (offscreen): The truth about the upper classes in this country is they're only interested in one thing - themselves.
The crowd nod along.
Maurice: As far as they're concerned, nothing has changed and that's the way they like it. They're selfish.
Staircase. Milner and Perkins can hear the speech as they climb the stairs.
Maurice (offscreen): Now, forget Winston Churchill, because let me tell you now the w*r is over, he is no longer of any use to you. We have to kick the Tories out. All of them.
Milner and Perkins arrive at the back of the hall and stand listening.
Maurice: New thinking, new industry, a new beginning. Ladies and gentlemen, the w*r is over. Now, let the Labour Party build the peace.
Man (offscreen): Jolly good show.
Maurice: Thank you.
Crowd: Hear hear! Hear hear! Hear hear! Hear hear! Jolly good show.
Maurice makes his way through the crowd, handing out flyers and shaking hands.
Maurice: Thank you so much. Hello. Excellent to see you here.
Milner makes his way through to approach him.
Milner: Excuse me, Mr Jones. I wonder if I might have a word?
Maurice: How can I help you?
Maurice holds out a hand to shake, but Milner doesn't take it.
Milner: I'm a police officer. Detective Inspector Milner.
Maurice lowers his hand.
Maurice: I suppose this is about my father.
Milner: Yes.
Maurice: Follow me. Sheila, I'll be a few minutes.
He heads out onto the balcony above the stairs, followed by Milner and Perkins.
Maurice: I take it that was deliberate, trying to embarrass me in the middle of a political meeting.
Milner: Not at all, sir.
Maurice: I wonder.
Milner: Your father was m*rder*d, sh*t dead. I would have thought you'd have a vested interest in seeing his k*ller brought to justice.
Maurice: Unless, of course, I was his k*ller. I assume I'm a suspect.
Milner: When did you last see him, sir?
Maurice: Oh, how quaint. Very Agatha Christie. I went to his house on the day he was k*lled. Yes. I thought that would surprise you. I didn't go in. In the end I couldn't be bothered.
Milner: You'd had a big falling-out.
Maurice: You're very well-informed. My father was a reactionary. He didn't understand that though the w*r is over, another w*r has begun. A w*r against unemployment, poverty, ill health.
Milner: He didn't agree with your politics.
Maurice: We parted company. I even changed my name. Well, dropped part of it. I didn't want anything more to do with him.
Milner: Your father was a very wealthy man.
Maurice: I'm not interested in his money.
Woman (offscreen): Mr Jones.
Milner Er, what can you tell me about a Russian handyman, a gardener, who was living at Redwood Lodge? Er, Nikolai...
Maurice: Vladchenko. I don't want to talk about him.
Milner: Oh, why is that?
Maurice: The whole thing was ridiculous. I like the Russians, God knows what they've been through in the last four years, but the idea that my father could actually adopt him.
Milner: Your father was considering adoption?
Maurice: Yes.
He starts to move away, and Milner follows.
Milner: Er, Mr Jones. You had no contact with your father, so how did you know?
Maurice turns and moves away. Milner and Perkins follow.
London. Foyle and Sam drive through b*mb-damaged streets.
Sam: Did you find out anything about the Russian House?
Foyle: Well, the Russian House is a sort of safe house, a sanctuary for White Russians in London.
Sam: White Russians?
Foyle: Well, White Russians are loyal to the old tsar and believe Stalin took the country from them. Red Russians are Communists and, er, loyal to Stalin.
Sam: But Niko was caught fighting for the Germans.
Foyle: Er, will, I'd imagine that's because he's a White Russian, and in which case he'd be pleased to be fighting against Stalin.
Sam: But Stalin was our side, so he was fighting against us too.
Foyle: Which is why he was a prisoner of w*r.
Sam: It's all very confusing, but I just know he didn't k*ll anyone.
Foyle: I hope you're right.
w*r Office lobby. Foyle stands waiting. A secretary approaches him.
Secretary: Mr Foyle.
Brigadier Wilson's office. He turns as the door opens.
Secretary (offscreen): Sir.
She escorts Foyle in.
Foyle: Thank you.
She leaves.
Wilson: Foyle, come in. I'm glad to see you. I'm afraid I owe you an apology.
They shake hands.
Wilson: I've rather wasted your time. But it's all turned out well. Spiakov is in our hands once again.
Foyle: Oh. Well, I'm very pleased to hear it. Where did you find him?
Wilson: He was here. In London. Travelled up from Hastings. Don't know where he got the money. Staying at a place called the Albion Crescent Hotel. We had a tip-off from one of the staff. Moved in and arrested him while he was still in bed. No, perhaps I shouldn't have got you involved but I can't tell you how important it was. Erm, I take it that's why you're here? Oh, do sit down.
Foyle: Er, yes, that's right.
Wilson: Wasted journey, I'm afraid. All done and dusted.
Foyle: Well, erm, not quite as easy as that.
He sits down.
Wilson: Oh?
Foyle: Well, your man may well have got his money from the home of an artist, Sir Leonard Spencer-Jones, who, I'm sorry to have to tell you, has been found dead.
Wilson sits down opposite him.
Wilson: Yes, I think I read something in the papers. What was it? A heart att*ck.
Foyle: Well, you might say that. He was sh*t in the chest.
Wilson: And this happened in Hastings?
Foyle: A little further down the coast near Brighton.
Wilson: Is that within your jurisdiction?
Foyle: Well, I've made it my business.
Wilson: I'm not sure there's much you can do. Spiakov's in Liverpool. He may already be on his way home.
Foyle: Well, there's a second Russian, it seems, and we're now looking for him.
Wilson: And, um, you think he's in London?
Foyle: It's possible.
Wilson: I may be able to help you find him. As you can imagine I have plenty of resources here. Er, do you have a name?
Foyle: Nikolai Vladchenko.
Wilson: Nikolai Vladchenko.
He writes it down.
Wilson: Well, I can ask. Er, where are you staying tonight?
Foyle: Er, not altogether sure. I'll find somewhere.
Wilson: Oh, you must use my room at the Auxiliary Club. Not strictly club rules but, erm, mum's the word. On Pall Mall. Do you know it?
He gets up and so does Foyle.
Foyle: Er, yes, I do.
Wilson: Ah, we should have dinner together. Let's meet, say, er, eight o'clock, hmm?
Foyle: Thank you.
Wilson: Ah. Be good to have a proper chinwag.
Foyle: Mmm.
Wilson chuckles.
Staircase. Foyle is escorted back out by the secretary. Wilson and Bennet follow them down a short way behind.
Bennet: Have you seen his file, sir?
Wilson: I don't need his file, Bennet. I was his commanding officer for eleven months during the last show.
Bennet: The security services don't like him. He's crossed swords with them on two separate occasions.
Wilson: In the line of duty.
Bennet: Beyond the line of duty. He's not an easy man to control.
Wilson: What are you suggesting?
Bennet: You will remember, sir, I was opposed to the idea of him being approached in the first place.
Wilson: Covering your back, Bennet?
He turns and walks on.
Albion Crescent Hotel. Foyle drives Sam up to the hotel.
Foyle: This is the one.
Sam: So, I'm to find out everything I can about Ivan Spiakov, who arrested him, when and how.
Foyle: That's right.
Sam sighs as she gets out.
Sam: Let's hope it leads us to Niko.
Foyle: Good luck.
He drives on. Sam heads into the hotel.
Reception area. Edna Howard is just showing a guest out.
Edna: Goodbye, Mr Evans. I hope you enjoyed your meal.
Sam enters.
Evans: Thank you, Mrs Howard.
He leaves.
Edna: Diabolical liberty. That's the second time he's been in this month. And he's done every hotel in the area.
Sam follows her towards the reception desk.
Sam: Who is he?
Edna: Ministry of Food. He's an inspector. Excuse me.
A young man, Adam Wainwright is just signing the guestbook. She shuffles him aside so she can get round behind the desk.
Edna: Come to check that we don't charge more than five bob and only one protein a course. As if there's enough protein in London to keep a dog smiling. And who pays for Mr Evans entertaining himself day in and day out?
Sam and Adam exchange a look as she rants.
Edna: You and me, that's who.
Sam: I, I'd like a room.
Edna: I didn't think you were here for the plumbing, love, although, Lord knows, be nice to see it sorted. Can I have your identity card?
Sam: Oh, yes, of course.
Edna: Have you finished with that, Mr Wainwright?
Adam: Right.
Sam: Here you are.
Sam hands over her identity card.
Edna: I'll need your ration book if you plan on staying more than a few days.
Sam: Oh, I don't think I'll be here that long.
Edna turns to Adam.
Edna: I'll get your key.
Sam goes to sign the guestbook and notices Adam's entry above hers.
Sam: Oh, you're from Hastings?
Adam: I'm sorry?
Sam: Well, I couldn't help noticing your address. That's a coincidence, I've just driven up from there.
Adam: I took the train.
Edna: Room 5. First floor. Stairs down there. No smoking in the bedroom and no women visitors after six o'clock.
Adam: Right. I'll be seeing you.
Sam: I expect so.
Edna: I've a room at the back. Five shillings a night. Cash in advance.
Walter Hardiman's house. Hardiman is just letting Milner and Perkins inside.
Hardiman: Yes, Detective Inspector, I do know Maurice Jones.
Milner: He lives here?
Hardiman: There's a coach house round the back. I rent it to him. When he fell out with his father there was nowhere else for him to go.
Milner: You also kept him informed of his father's private affairs.
Hardiman: No. I would have thought Maurice was perfectly able to surmise for himself what was going on.
Milner: You never discussed it then?
Hardiman: What?
Milner: The changed will. The adoption.
Hardiman: It may be... with the proximity... Look, everyone knew about this Russian character and I must say some people thought it very strange.
Milner: And you?
Hardiman: I knew Leonard for 30 years. And his late wife. I've known Maurice since he was a baby. And what happened, this great chasm that came between them, and all because of politics, I thought it was wrong.
Milner: There's a chance that Maurice Jones will become an MP.
Hardiman: And good luck to him, Mr Milner, that's what I say. The whole world's about to change, all of it. And you, me, all the old values, we're going to be swept away. Maurice Jones did not k*ll his father. It's nonsense to suggest it. I don't know why you're here, asking me all these questions. You're wasting your time.
Milner and Perkins turn to go.
Hotel lounge. Adam enters the room and sees Sam sitting reading a magazine.
Adam: Do you mind if I join you? I'm whacked.
He sits down in the next seat.
Sam: Sam Stewart.
She offers him her hand.
Adam: I'm Adam Wainwright.
They shake hands.
Sam: I saw. When you were signing in.
Adam: Ah.
Sam: So how long are you staying here?
Adam: I want to get out as soon as possible. I have a hotel myself. Well, a, a guesthouse, anyway. Hill House. D'you know it? It's up on Highcliffe Street.
Sam: I know the area but I, I never noticed a guesthouse.
Adam: Nor do many of the guests. That's half the trouble.
Sam: Why are you here?
Adam: In London? I've come up to see the w*r Damage Commission. They're in Piccadilly. Had a b*mb go through the roof. Luckily it didn't go off, but I've been trying to get a grant for repairs.
Sam: What's the problem?
Adam: Everything is. They want to see all the accounts and the building certificate. I don't suppose you fancy dinner.
Sam: You're a bit fresh.
Adam: Oh, not really, I just... I'm on my own and I assume you are too, and it'd be nice to have someone to talk to. So, what do you say?
Sam: I'm, I'm here with someone.
Adam: Oh, married.
Sam: No, no. No, we're working together. But, yes, yes, I'd, I'd love to. Maybe. Let's see. Perhaps.
Adam: Right.
The Russian House. The woman who was serving tea before escorts Foyle in to the lounge where Duveen and Anokhov stand.
Duveen: Mr Foyle. Welcome. Allow me to present myself. My name is Duveen.
They shake hands.
Foyle: How do you do?
Duveen: This is my house.
Foyle: Mm-hmm.
Duveen: My colleague and associate Alexander Anokhov. What can I offer you? Some tea?
Foyle: Er, I won't, thank you.
Duveen: Some caviar? It is a great Russian delicacy which perhaps you have not developed a taste for.
Foyle: Yeah, you may well be right.
Duveen: So. I'm at your service, Mr Foyle. Please have a seat.
Foyle: Er, no, I won't keep you a moment. Er, we looking for a young Russian, Nikolai Vladchenko.
Duveen: Nikolai. That's a good name. It is the name of the last tsar, m*rder*d by the Bolshevik scum who have taken over our country. And the family name, you said Vladchenko?
Foyle nods.
Duveen: Alex?
Anokhov: I do not know the name.
Duveen: Er, when did he come up to London?
Foyle: Just a few days ago, I believe. Er, There's also, er, a friend of his, Ivan Spiakov. Does that mean anything?
Duveen: Spiakov? Do you have any idea where he is?
Foyle: We know exactly where he is. Er, he's under arrest.
Anokhov (offscreen): Arrest?
Foyle: Mmm.
Duveen: Neither of these men were here.
Foyle: You're quite sure of that?
Duveen: Have we given you any reason to doubt us?
Foyle: Since you mention it, Vladchenko had nowhere else to go in London. Er, Spiakov told him specifically to come here and it'd be interesting to know, er, since you've no idea where I've come from, why he'd have had to have come up to London.
Duveen: I beg your pardon?
Foyle: Er, you just asked me when he came up to London.
Duveen: Doesn't everybody come up to London?
Foyle: Er, well, some people come down to London. An awful lot of other people are already here.
Duveen: I do not think I have anything to add to what I have already said. I'm sorry, Mr Foyle.
Anokhov heads over to escort Foyle out.
Foyle: Thank you for your time.
Hotel front desk. Edna gives a woman her change.
Edna: There you are.
Woman: Thank you.
Sam approaches the desk.
Sam: Excuse me, I'm sorry to be a nuisance, but I'm afraid there's no light bulb in my bathroom.
Edna: That'll be a shilling.
Sam: I'm sorry?
Edna: For the light bulb.
Sam: Isn't it included in the room?
Edna: If it was included in the room, you wouldn't be asking. It's a shilling deposit, dear. When you leave, you give me back the bulb, I'll give you back the shilling.
Sam starts digging in her shoulder bag.
Sam: You haven't had any Russians staying here, have you?
Edna: Why do you ask that?
Sam: I'm looking for a man called Ivan Spiakov.
Edna: You know him?
Sam: Sort of. He's a friend of a friend.
Edna: He was here for one night. He was taken away under arrest.
Sam: Oh.
Edna: I didn't know anything about it and I don't want to. The soldiers came and took him and that was the end of it. I knew it was a mistake having him here in the first place.
Sam: I'm afraid I haven't got a shilling.
Adam walks up from behind her.
Adam: Here, let me stand you. I've got a bob. Are you ready to go?
Sam: I'm certainly hungry.
Adam: We'll collect the bulb when we come back.
He leaves it on the front desk.
Outside. The two of them leave the hotel together.
Adam: So, what do you fancy?
Sam: For dinner? Oh, roast beef, sherry trifle, champagne. But I'm not going to get it, am I?
Adam: There's a four and six dinner at Clacy's. Soup, fish and chips, tinned fruit.
Sam: Perfect.
The two of them walk between a pair of workmen clearing rubble.
Adam: So what are you doing in London?
Workman: Hold on, Charlie.
Adam: You said you weren't on your own.
Sam: I'm here with a man called Mr Foyle. He's a policeman. I used to work for him.
Adam: And why is he here?
Sam: Well, it's complicated but, er, somebody got m*rder*d. An artist. Quite a well known one. It's all tied in with these Russians.
Adam: I'd have thought after six years of w*r, everyone would have had enough of k*lling each other.
Sam: What did you do during the w*r?
Adam: Oh, I'm afraid I never sh*t at anyone. I feel a bit guilty that nobody ever took a sh*t at me. I did want to fight. I tried to join the Army but I'd just come out of university, Cambridge, and they said they had other uses for me.
Sam: Don't tell me. You were in intelligence.
Adam: I'm not allowed to tell you. But, yes, I was in intelligence. Well, sort of. I spent the w*r in a place called Bletchley. It was cold and horrible and the beds were even worse than Mrs Howard's. But I think we did a good job.
Sam: So how did you come to own a guesthouse?
Adam: It was my aunt's but she d*ed.
Sam: Blitzed?
Adam: No, no. It was a boating accident. I was always her favourite, so she left it to me in her will. When I left Bletchley I had nothing to with myself so I thought I'd give it a try. God, I must have been mad.
Sam: Why's that?
Adam: Well, there's this business with the roof. My receptionist has just run off with a Yank, and all the cleaners have stopped work since their husbands have come home. It's a bit of a mess if you want the truth. Ah, there we are. This is the place.
Sam: Oh.
They approach the restaurant. There's a sign in the window saying FISH IS OFF.
Sam: Oh. It says the fish is off.
Adam: In what sense, I wonder?
Sam chuckles.
Adam: Soup and chips?
Sam: Sounds delicious.
They head in to the restaurant.
Wilson (voiceover): Passchendaele.
He's at a table in the Auxiliary Club restaurant with Foyle.
Wilson: Hmm. What a bloody mess. D'you ever think of it?
Foyle: Not if I can help it.
He taps the table slightly, touching wood.
Wilson: I always knew the Hun'd be back. Versailles was a mistake. It was a humiliation, and they never forgave us for it.
He signals a waiter for the cheque.
Wilson: So, erm, how's the room? Comfortable?
Foyle: Very. Thank you.
Wilson: I more or less lived here from the time of the Blitz. Never knew when you'd need a clean bed. Well, it's been good catching up with you, Foyle. Married, a son, the police.
Foyle: Well, that's about it.
Wilson chuckles.
Wilson: Well-
The waiter arrives with the cheque.
Wilson: Oh, thank you. Well, when it was all over I went back to the family estate. Farming in Kent. Then, in March '39, when h*tler walked into Prague, I reported back for duty. I ended up at the w*r Office, as you know. Ordnance and equipment. Not the most thrilling field of activity, but, er, I was glad to do my bit. And, of course, erm, people think the w*r's over but, er, it isn't. Quite apart from the Japs, the whole of Europe is a gigantic mess. Hundreds of thousands of displaced persons wandering all over the shop. Then there's the British zone in Germany. Millions more depending on us. No butter, no fat. Winter'll be on us soon enough. Be a miracle if half of them don't starve to death.
Foyle: This is your responsibility?
Wilson: Well, my department.
Foyle: Yet you still take a personal interest in a single fugitive in Hastings?
Wilson: Forget about him! I have. I asked you to help find him, we did find him. There's an end of it. You always were a bit bolshie, Foyle. That's why I knew you'd make a good officer. But, er, this time, um, let me give you some advice.
Foyle: What's that?
Wilson: There are things happening. The bigger picture. It's good to have met up you with, good to have been able to dine together, but, er, you should go back to Hastings, leave well alone.
Foyle: Well, I'm not sure that's possible now.
Wilson: Whyever not? This has nothing to do with you.
Foyle: Oh, well, it didn't until you asked me to become involved, and since then there's been a sh**ting in the street, a su1c1de, a m*rder, and there are a lot of frightened people.
Wilson: You're a police officer weeks away from retirement. Go back to Hastings. Forget this ever happened.
A member of staff, John, approaches Wilson.
John: Your driver is here, sir.
Wilson: Oh, thank you. Well, erm, shall we?
They both get up to leave.
Wilson: Thank you, John.
John: Goodnight, sir.
Wilson: See you again.
The two of them walk out of the restaurant.
Wilson: By the way, erm, do you know you have a file with MI5?
Foyle: Do I really?
Wilson: I'm told they have you down as a troublemaker.
Foyle: Mmm.
Wilson: I wouldn't stay in London if I were you. I wouldn't go back to the Russian House. If you do, I may not be able to protect you from the consequences.
Foyle: Do I still have the room?
Wilson: Just for tonight.
Foyle: Thanks for dinner.
He leaves.
A London street at night. Andrew Bennet stands waiting under a lamppost. Duveen approaches and joins him.
Bennet: We have a problem.
Behind them, Anokhov stealthily rounds the corner a building, following Duveen.
Duveen (offscreen): We may have the same problem, Mr Bennet.
Bennet: Where is Nikolai Vladchenko?
Duveen: He's safe.
Bennet: So he's staying with you?
Duveen: After what happened to Spiakov it seems the best place.
Bennet: I'm afraid you'll have to hand him over, Monsieur Duveen. He has to be got out of the country at once.
Anokhov spies on their meeting from behind the railings of the building behind.
Duveen: You are making life difficult for me, Mr Bennet.
Bennet: Right now, life is difficult for all of us.
Duveen: Do you think a single provincial policeman can be a thr*at?
Bennet: Don't underestimate him, Monsieur Duveen. He has a history when it comes to these things. Wilson was mad to go to him, knowing the sort of man he was. But too much has happened and it's too late. We can't control him. We can't ask him to keep quiet.
Duveen: So, what can I do?
Bennet gives him a subtle nod.
Duveen: Very well. It will be done. Good night, Mr Bennet.
Bennet: Good night, Monsieur Duveen.
He leaves. Anokhov watches Duveen as he turns to leave too.
London streets, daylight. Foyle, driving along, becomes aware of another car following him. He pulls up outside the Albion Crescent Hotel and the other car drives on past. As Foyle gets out, there's a distant squeak of brakes. The driver of the other car watches Foyle in the wing mirror as he heads into the hotel, then reverses back along the street.
Hotel reception area. Sam is pacing around while Edna does her nails at the desk behind her. Foyle walks in.
Sam: Morning, sir. Any luck?
Foyle: You ready?
Sam: Ready and waiting.
Foyle turns to Edna.
Foyle: Good morning. D'you have a back way out of the hotel?
Edna: Depends why you're asking.
Foyle: Er, well, there's somebody out there I'd rather not, erm-
Sam: Is someone following you?
Foyle: Could be.
Edna: I don't want any more trouble here.
Foyle: Oh, no, there won't be any trouble. It'd just help if there was a back way.
Edna: Turn right, down the stairs.
Foyle: Thank you.
He nods for Sam to follow him.
Outside. A man in a suit approaches the hotel. He reaches the entrance and sees Foyle and Sam heading off into the back. He leaves again.
Back corridors. Sam follows Foyle through a deserted part of the hotel.
Sam: Do you really think they'd send someone after you, sir?
Foyle: Well, you can never be too sure.
They head down a set of stairs.
Sam: Why? Why would they do that?
Foyle: Well, very good question.
Outside. Their pursuer heads down the external stairs to the basement.
Basement. Foyle tries a door and finds it locked.
Foyle: No.
He tries another.
Foyle: No.
They back up and try different route.
Foyle: Here we go.
He reaches the external door, opens it and looks out, then immediately shuts it again.
Foyle: Back to plan A, I think.
They run back up the stairs. Behind them, the man opens the door, now holding a p*stol with a sil*ncer. He sh**t after them, hitting the stairs just below Foyle's feet. He sh**t out the stairwell light above them and gives chase.
Upstairs. Sam and Foyle burst out from the stairwell. Adam steps out from a doorway behind them just as the assassin arrives and takes a sh*t.
Adam: Sam?
The b*llet hits him in the shoulder.
Adam: Argh!
Sam turns back to look.
Sam: Oh, my God! Adam!
Foyle pulls her after him. Adam lies groaning on the floor as the assassin runs past. He says something in Russian as he shoves past some more guests.
Outside. Sam and Foyle emerge. Sam runs towards Foyle's car.
Foyle: No, not the car.
They run on around the corner. The assassin emerges from the building after them, keeping the g*n concealed inside his jacket. He looks around for a moment, then rounds the corner after them.
Ahead, Sam and Foyle round another corner. Sam spots a set of stairs leading down to the basement level of an empty building.
Sam: Sir, down here.
They hurry down the steps. Shortly after, the assassin follows.
Inside. Sam and Foyle stand in the darkness. They hear the sound of the door opening off behind them, and hurry onwards, the assassin following some way behind. Foyle flattens himself against a wall while Sam climbs another set of steps and tries the door at the top. It's locked. As she hears the assassin's footsteps she ducks and makes her way back down to rejoin Foyle.
Foyle: (This was a really good idea, wasn't it?)
Sam: (I'm sorry, sir.)
They hear the bell of a police car passing by, and Foyle sees its shadow pass by the windows above. As the assassin nears their hiding place, there's the sound of a door opening somewhere off behind. Foyle and Sam move further back into the shadows. As the assassin looks around, he hears a clatter. He turns and spots Foyle, and raises his g*n. There are several g*nshots, and then the assassin collapses. Alex Anokhov stands behind him with a p*stol. He checks the body, then takes the assassin's g*n. Foyle and Sam cautiously emerge from their hiding places.
Anokhov: Mr Foyle.
Outside the Albion Crescent Hotel. Sam and Edna follow as a pair of men help Adam into an ambulance.
Ambulance Man: Don't you worry, love, he's going pull through.
Edna: He hasn't paid for the room.
Sam sighs in disgust and moves past her. She gives Adam's coat to the ambulance man.
Sam: That's his coat.
Ambulance Man: Thank you. All right?
He closes the ambulance door and it drives away.
Hotel restaurant. Sam walks in to join Foyle and Anokhov.
Sam: I think he's going to be all right.
Foyle: Are you gonna be all right?
She shrugs.
Sam: Well, yes.
Foyle: Sorry you got involved in all of this.
Sam turns to Anokhov.
Sam: Who, who was that man you sh*t?
He looks at Foyle.
Anokhov: Do you know why he was sent to k*ll you?
Foyle: I've got a pretty good idea.
Anokhov: Let me tell you something about the Russians in your country, Mr Foyle. They are even now being rounded up and sent home against their will. Your Mr Churchill and Mr Eden reached an agreement with Comrade Stalin at Yalta.
Sam: I don't understand. What will happen to them when they get there?
Anokhov: On the 18 April this year, a troop transport called the Almanzora docked at Odessa. It carried Russians who had been repatriated from camps in Yorkshire. The people of Yorkshire had given them food and clothes for the journey. The moment they disembarked they were taken to a shed on the quay... and machinegunned.
Sam: But why?
Anokhov: Because they fought with Germans against Stalin. And now he wants his revenge.
Flashback to the POWs escaping from the truck in Brenchurch.
Anokhov (voiceover): But the news of what happened at Odessa has begun to leak out. Within the Russian community there are those who know what will happen when they return.
Flashback to Valyshkin surrounded on the viaduct.
Anokhov (voiceover): And they'll do anything to remain in this country, anything to avoid being sent back.
Valyshkin climbs up onto the wall of the viaduct. He tumbles down towards the water.
Hotel restaurant. Anokhov sits down at one of the tables.
Anokhov: You have to understand that this is happening in secret. And that there are people even within the British authorities who'll do anything to keep it that way. It is, I think, a scandal that could tear your government apart if it became known. And it is perhaps for this reason that you had to be silenced.
Foyle: Well, the Russian safehouse doesn't appear to be safe after all.
Anokhov: That has been my concern for many months.
Foyle: Might that have anything to do with Duveen?
Anokhov: Monsieur Duveen is a traitor. He's working for the Communists. Last night he talked with the man who tried to k*ll you.
Sam: Do you really have no idea who that man was?
Anokhov: It is possible that he is a member of SMERSH. Smiert Spionam. It means "death to spies". Russian counterintelligence. I'm afraid it is now too late to ask. I would advise you to leave London now, Mr Foyle. It is quieter, I think, on the coast.
Sam: But what about Nikolai? How are we going to find him?
Anokhov: I'm sorry. I cannot help.
He leaves. Sam sighs.
Bradley house. Perkins looks in through the window from outside as Milner questions Tom Bradley.
Milner: So, you went to see Sir Leonard.
Tom: Who told you that?
Milner: Is it true?
Tom sits down and sighs.
Tom: Yes. But I didn't k*ll him.
Milner: You argued.
Tom: Lots of people argue. I used to work for him. I worked for him for two years. Then I went away to fight.
Milner: You were in Africa.
Tom: I was in a lot of places.
Milner: And, er, you came back and you wanted a job.
Tom: I wanted my job. The job he promised would be waiting for me when I got home. Was that too much to ask?
Milner: Did you thr*aten him?
Tom: I may have. I was angry. I don't remember.
Milner: Are you leaving Brighton?
He gestures to Tom's kitbag on a nearby chair.
Tom: There's no crime in that, is there?
Milner: I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to stay until this is sorted out.
Tom: How long's that going to be?
Milner: I don't know.
Tom: You know, when I was out there, fighting the Jerries, there was only one thing I could think about. Home. Coming back. And now I'm back... there's nothing here for me, is there? What was it all about? That's what I want to know. No food in the shops. No dancing in the streets. It's like people have already forgotten. What was the bloody point?
Hospital. Sam makes her way through a busy ward.
Doctor (offscreen): Very nicely, Mr Wainwright. We'll soon have you out of here.
Adam is sitting up on the bed, his torso bandaged and his right arm in a sling.
Sam: Hello.
Adam: Hello.
Sam: I've brought you some bananas.
She hands him a paper bag.
Adam: Bananas!
Sam: I didn't know what to bring.
Adam: Haven't had one of those in a while. That's very kind of you, Sam. You didn't have to bring me anything.
Sam: Mr Foyle and I, we feel very guilty about what happened.
Adam: It wasn't your fault.
Sam: Actually, it was. The man with the g*n was trying to sh**t us.
Adam: Why?
She leans in to speak in more hushed tones.
Sam: Top secret, I'm afraid.
Adam: Well, very glad I got in the way. Well, it was only yesterday I was saying that I felt bad about not being sh*t at during the w*r. Mind you, I didn't expect you to take me seriously.
She chuckles.
Sam: Are you going to be all right?
Adam: I'll be fine.
Sam: But the guesthouse, you said you were all on your own.
Adam: Well...
Sam: Look, I don't mind lending you a hand if you like.
Adam: It's funny you should say that. I was going to ask but... I thought you already had a job.
She sits down on the bed beside him.
Sam: No, actually, I was working for that artist. The one I told you about.
Adam: The one who got m*rder*d?
Sam: Yes.
Adam: Well, that's a recommendation.
She laughs.
Adam: What about Mr Foyle? Doesn't he need you?
Sam: Not any more. I'm completely out of work. So, if you like, just for the time being.
Adam: I can't pay you very much.
Sam: Make a change if anyone paid me at all.
Adam: Well, it looks like Hill House has a new... what should I call you? Assistant manager?
Sam: Receptionist? Plumber? Chief bottle-washer?
Adam: You can start by peeling me one of these bananas.
He hands them to her.
Adam: I can't do it with one hand.
w*r Office. Foyle is in the reception area. Bennet arrives and escorts him through.
Wilson's office.
Wilson: Well, I'm obliged to say I'm astonished. Are you really saying this happened on the streets of London?
Foyle: Well, I was quite surprised myself.
He sits down across from Wilson at the desk.
Wilson: Well, it's an outrage. I shall demand a full report.
Foyle: Er, no need for that, I wouldn't have thought.
Wilson: Whyever not?
Foyle: Well, largely because you know rather more than you're telling me.
Wilson: I don't know what you mean.
Foyle: Three quarters of a million displaced people and you're after just one of them. Why was it so important to find him?
Wilson: I told you.
Foyle: Oh, well, you told me that Russians are animals, and maybe some of them are. Maybe that's how you persuade yourself that what you're doing is justifiable, but that's not quite the point, is it? It's all about what this particular Russian knew. He knew exactly what had happened to his compatriots deported on the Almanzora. And he knew about your secret policy of forced repatriation and you, of course, can't afford to let that get out.
Wilson: It's not my policy. A directive came down about a month ago. They have to leave. All of them. You heard what Montgomery said. The party's over. They have to go home.
Foyle: Even though they're going to be k*lled.
Wilson: No, we don't know that. Now, we have to be pragmatic. There are more than 20,000 British prisoners currently in Russian hands. We want to get them back as soon as possible. That means cooperating with Stalin, whether we like it or not.
Foyle: So we've fought two wars, er, to end up being pragmatic.
Wilson: What do you want, Foyle?
Foyle: Well, we could start with your resignation.
Wilson: I knew nothing about what happened to you this morning. It must have been Duveen or Bennet, I don't know, but I promise you a full inquiry.
Foyle: Not necessary. The person sent to, er, deal with me this morning followed me from the Auxiliary Club. Only one person knew I was staying at the Auxiliary Club.
Wilson: Are you suggesting I would condone m*rder?
Foyle: Can you suggest any other explanation?
Wilson: I'm not resigning.
Foyle: I haven't finished yet.
He stands up.
Foyle: I want Vladchenko returned to Hastings.
Wilson: That's not possible.
Foyle: You should perhaps first of all consider the k*lling of Spencer-Jones. The fact that Vladchenko was there and could very easily be called as a police witness.
Wilson: That won't happen.
Foyle: I couldn't disagree more.
Wilson stands up.
Wilson: Are you blackmailing me?
Foyle: I'm offering you the opportunity to, er, keep your deeply offensive little secret a while longer at the expense of one of ex-prisoner and, er, your career. You know where I am.
He goes to leave, then turns back.
Foyle: It's good to see you again... sir.
Wilson sits down.
Hastings police station. Milner and Foyle come out of the building together. Perkins is waiting outside and joins Milner heading for their car, while Foyle heads for his.
Army base. Milner is questioning Joe Bradley while Foyle stands in the background.
Milner: Captain Bradley, you might as well know that I have now spoken to Nikolai Vladchenko and I know everything that happened at Redwood Lodge.
Joe: It was an accident.
Milner: Perhaps you'd like to tell me in your own words.
Joe: I was just following my orders. There was a Russian I had to pick up, from this place near Brighton.
Flashback to the army truck pulling up outside the building.
Joe (voiceover): I'd never met Leonard Spencer-Jones. I knew his name, of course. My brother, Tom, used to work there.
As Joe gets out of the truck, Nikolai hurries into the building behind him.
Joe (voiceover): I took two other men. The kid was only seventeen. I thought it was gonna be a pushover.
One of the soldiers knocks. Nikolai runs through the house and stops just around the corner from the front door to listen in.
Sir Leonard (offscreen): You're not coming in.
Joe (offscreen): Sir, I have my orders.
Sir Leonard: I don't give a damn about your orders.
Sir Leonard looks back and sees Nikolai looking round the corner. Joe spots him too and pushes inside.
Sir Leonard: I've already written to the Home Office and this young man is under my protection. You've no right to be here.
Joe: Sir.
Sir Leonard: Get out of my house!
Joe: Sir, my orders are to take Nikolai Vladchenko into custody. If necessary I will do so by force.
Sir Leonard: Niko, get out of here.
Joe draws a g*n and aims at Nikolai as he turns to leave.
Joe: Stay where you are.
Sir Leonard: Don't be ridiculous.
Joe: You stay where you are.
Sir Leonard steps in between him and Nikolai.
Sir Leonard: You're not gonna use that, not in my house. Go, Niko!
Joe: I'm warning you.
He cocks the p*stol.
Sir Leonard: Give me that.
He tries to wrestle it away from Joe and the g*n goes off. Joe lowers him down to the floor as he collapses. Nikolai approaches and sees him lying there, then runs for it. One of the soldiers shakes Joe by the soldier.
Soldier: Sir.
Army base.
Joe: I couldn't believe what I'd done but I knew there'd be trouble. And I was stupid. I took some money and I ransacked the place. I thought maybe I could make it look like the kid was responsible. It was the only way. What'll happen to me? Are you going to arrest me?
Milner: I'd like to, but this isn't a police matter. Since you were in uniform, exercising your duty, you have to face a court martial.
He moves to go, nodding to Foyle.
Foyle: Milner. That's not quite the case. He might have been in uniform on duty but the person he k*lled was civilian so it's definitely a police matter.
Milner nods and turns back.
Milner: Captain Bradley, I'm sorry. I'm going to have to ask you come with me into Brighton to make a full statement. You are under arrest.
Outside. Milner follows Foyle out of the building.
Milner: Sir.
Foyle: Yeah.
Milner: Thank you.
Foyle: Well, your first one. Glad to be able to help.
Milner: Sir.
Foyle: Mmm.
Milner: Perhaps I owe you an apology. That day at Redwood Lodge.
Foyle: Well, frankly, I'd say there's no perhaps about it. You were rude, uncooperative, you defended a disrespectful junior officer, and to put the tin lid on it you upset Sam. And I'd say that's a poor return for the five years we spent together. But if that's how you want to handle yourself now you're in Brighton, it's entirely up to you.
Milner: I'm sorry.
Foyle: I hope so.
He turns away. Joe Bradley is loaded into a police van as Foyle starts walking back to his car.
Elsa Constantin's café. Foyle drinks from a cup of coffee. Nikolai is behind the counter, and Elsa brings a couple of empty cups back to him.
Elsa: How is it?
Foyle: Well, it's not at all bad. He's getting there.
Elsa and Nikolai exchange a few words in Russian.
Foyle: Can you keep him on?
Elsa: I can always use a little help. And when he wants to move there are people that I know.
Foyle: Thank you.
Elsa: And what about you, Mr Foyle? Nothing changes. You are still fighting.
Foyle: Yeah, always fighting.
He leaves.
Street corner. A newsboy is selling papers next to a sign with the headline LABOUR SWEEP INTO POWER.
Newsboy: Churchill out! Election results! Get your election results here!
Foyle buys a paper from him and starts walking up the road towards his house.
Newsboy: Labour sweep into power! Churchill out! Get your election results here!
A car drives round the corner, Maurice Jones standing up to speak through the open roof with a loudhailer.
Maurice: A great day for the country. Thank you again. Thank you. This is a great day for the country. Thank you so much, ladies and gentlemen.
Foyle turns and watches for a moment as he drives past.
Maurice (offscreen): A great day. A new start. Thank you so much.
Then Foyle turns and continues walking.
07x01 - The Russian House
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.