09x01 - High Castle

All TV show episode transcripts for seasons 1 to 9. Aired November 2002 to January 2015.

Moderator: nomadicwriter

Watch Foyle's w*r on Amazon Instant Video Here

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.
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09x01 - High Castle

Post by bunniefuu »

OPENING CREDITS

Southampton docks at night. The Eleanor Lee is docked. Air-raid sirens wail in the background.

CAPTION: SOUTHAMPTON DOCKS 1942

Two young men, John and Albert Morton, hurry towards the ship in the dark. They hide behind a pallet of crates, one of which is lifted away by a crane. Albert has a bag and John a pair of jerrycans.

Man (offscreen): Down there.

John: You're gonna get us sh*t.

Albert: What?

John: We're at w*r in Britain, they've got g*n.

He eyes a pair of men with r*fles as they pass in front of the gangplank.

Albert: It's a merchant ship, Johnny, no one's gonna see us. In-out... shake it all about.

John: (You're mad.)

Man (offscreen): Let's go.

Albert: (Come on.)

The two brothers dash across the dock and up the gangplank. They sneak through the corridors of a ship. Albert pauses outside the open door of a galley where someone is whistling.

Albert: (He said number three. Go on.)

They take a set of steps down to the cargo holds.

Cargo hold. Crates are being lowered into place with ropes.

Man: That's it. Come on, come on.

Man: That's it.

Man (offscreen): Take it easy.

The two brothers sneak between a collection of barrels.

Man (offscreen): Easy, buddy. Easy does it.

Albert peers out from between the barrels at the men at work across the hold.

Man (offscreen): All right, all right. Lower her down. Lower her down.

Albert: Psst! High Castle. This is it. Come on.

He gestures to the barrels around them, stamped with the name.

Man (offscreen): Over there.

John unzips the bag they brought with them.

Captain's cabin. The harbour master hurries up a set of steps into the room.

Harbour Master: Right, you're all set, Captain.

Captain: Ah! Thank you.

The harbour master gives him a list of the freight to sign and they shake hands.

Harbour Master: Have a good journey.

Captain: Thank you very much.

An alarm is played throughout the ship. Albert and John hurry back up the steps from the hold, John coughing and spluttering.

Albert: Go! Go, go! Come on! Come on.

Captain's cabin.

Captain: What the hell?

He goes to look out through the doorway.

Docks. The brothers run back down the gangplank.

Albert: Come on. Come on.

Man: Get after those guys!

Two men run out onto the gangplank.

Guard: Oi!

He chases after them, blowing his whistle.

Man: Hey, soldier! Soldier! They're thieves.

The brothers run round the edge of a vehicle. John grabs onto it as he stops to throw up. Albert runs back to tug him along.

Albert: Come on.

They run away from the docks, the guard chasing after them with a torch.

Guard: Oi! Oi! Oi! Hey! You there! Come here! Hey! Stop! I said stop!

Albert hustles John around a corner.

Albert: Come here. Come on.

A pair of guards run after them.

Guard: Come here now! Check over there!

They run on past the brothers' hiding place without spotting them.

Albert: Let's go. Let's go.

They run off, John still coughing and retching.

Hyde Park, early morning.

CAPTION: FOUR YEARS LATER

A man is walking his dog through the trees. He stops as he spots a dead man lying on the grass nearby, a wallet left open next to him.

MI5 building.

CAPTION: MI5 LONDON

Sir Alec: His name was William Knowles.

He stands behind the desk in his office, together with Pierce, Foyle and Valentine.

Sir Alec: We found his passport. He was a professor at University College, London.

Pierce: Looks like a straightforward robbery. Wallet was next to the body, cash had been taken.

Foyle: If it's straightforward, why are you interested in it?

Sir Alec: We found this in his top pocket.

He shows Foyle a scrap of paper that reads "7 Carlyle Gardens, Kensington, 10.00".

Sir Alec: 7 Carlyle Gardens. We are very interested in the man who lives there.

Pierce: Clayton Del Mar. He's an American. Chairman of Global American Oil.

Sir Alec: Well, let me make this absolutely clear, Foyle, our job is to protect Del Mar, he's one of us. A useful source of intelligence in the Middle East. Iran, Iraq, anywhere there's oil. We just need to establish that there is no connection between the death of this man Knowles and Del Mar.

Foyle: Well, there'd appear to be a connection. When he was found?

He picks up the scrap of paper with the address.

Sir Alec: This morning, about nine thirty.

Foyle: So he could have been k*ll around ten last night.

Sir Alec: I just want to know why that address was in his pocket. Understand?

Foyle: I do.

He leaves, and Valentine follows him out.

Valentine: William Knowles, eh? Should be right up your street.

Foyle: What does that mean?

Valentine: Dead body, knife in the back. Nice, straightforward bit of detective work for you.

Foyle: Noticeable overuse of the word "straightforward" this morning, bearing in mind nothing in this place ever is.

Sir Alec's office. Pierce goes to leave the room.

Sir Alec: Oh, wait. I want to talk to you about Foyle.

Pierce: Yes? I think he's done a very good job.

Sir Alec: Well, I don't deny it, but he's also done a great deal of damage, or have you forgotten Strasser?

Pierce: Losing Strasser to the Americans was unfortunate, but that wasn't Foyle, that was Valentine.

Sir Alec: Well, if I had my way, Valentine would have gone.

Pierce: We can't lose our best operatives, Sir Alec.

Sir Alec: No, but we have to control them or, rather, you do, Miss Pierce. Valentine's learned his lesson, but I suggest you find a way to keep an eye on Mr Foyle. Because the next time he makes a nuisance of himself, you'll be responsible.

A terraced house, the new home of a Sam and Adam Wainwright. Sam brings in some washing from the line behind the house. She passes Adam on her way through the kitchen.

Sam: I'm off, then.

Adam: Sam?

Sam (offscreen): What?

Adam: The second bedroom. I've finished painting it. You haven't even looked.

Sam: Oh, I'm sorry, Adam. I'll pop up now if you like.

Adam: No, it's all right.

He heads over to the breakfast table.

Sam: Right.

She follows him into the kitchen.

Adam: You do still want to have this baby, don't you?

Sam: What sort of a question is that?

Adam: Well, you never talk about it. Sometimes, I think you're trying to pretend it's not happening.

Sam: Adam, we're having a baby, I'm thrilled, it's what we always wanted. What's there to talk about?

Adam: You haven't told them yet, have you? You haven't even told Mr Foyle. Why not?

Sam: Do we have to do this now?

Adam: I'd like to know.

Sam: Because...

Adam: You're gonna have to leave, you know that.

Sam: I haven't told Mr Foyle yet because I don't want to. You have no idea.

Adam: I know you'll miss it.

Sam: Well, of course I'll miss it. Will you give up politics to sit in a room full of nappies and baby powder?

Adam: That's not the same.

Sam: Why not? It's exactly the same. I'll tell them when I'm ready and now, if you don't mind, I don't want to be late.

She leaves, and the front door slams behind her.

Adam: Oh.

Outside. Sam walks along the street at a fast pace.

Later. Sam is driving along with Foyle in the back of the car.

Foyle: How would you like to swap jobs?

Sam: Beg your pardon?

Foyle: I'm just sick of this paperwork. You do it so much better than me, anyway.

Sam: I've got quite enough of my own, thank you very much.

Foyle: Yes. Of course you do. I wasn't being serious. Everything all right?

Sam: I'm not quite myself, if you want the truth, but nothing to worry about. Quite the opposite.

A grocer's shop on the corner. A line of women queue outside, chatting. The shopkeeper opens the door.

Shopkeeper: Good morning, ladies. Come and get all you can.

The women hurry inside.

Woman: Ooh, yes.

Sam and Foyle drive past.

Foyle: It's on the left here.

The car comes to a stop in front of a mortuary.

Foyle: And Adam, is he all right?

Sam: He misses being a PPS. And, of course, now all he thinks about is... his work. Nice start to the day.

Foyle: I'll be five minutes.

He gets out of the car and heads into the building.

Pathologist (voiceover): He was k*ll some time...

Inside. The body of William Knowles lies face-down on a table.

Pathologist: ...close to midnight, at a guess. s*ab in the back, severing the spine. He would've died instantly.

Foyle: Is there a suggestion, then, that he was running away?

Pathologist: I wouldn't have said so. The entry wound is far too precise. This is someone who knew what they were doing. They must have crept up behind him and, er...

Foyle: Right.

Pathologist: He'd been abroad very recently.

Foyle: Oh, yeah? How d'you know that?

Pathologist: The contents of his stomach. I won't go into the gruesome details just now, but he's been feasting on rations that you won't find over here. At a guess, I'd say he's been with the Americans.

Government building. Adam and Glenvil Harris walk through the corridors together.

Glenvil: Did you hear him on the wireless last night?

Adam: Who?

Glenvil: Bevan. People underestimate him because of his class and the way he walks, but when you think of what he's achieved...

They walk through into Adam's office.

Glenvil: Are you all right?

Adam: Oh. I was thinking about Sam.

Glenvil: How is she? I haven't seen her for a while.

Adam: Glenvil, there's something we haven't told you. She's expecting a baby.

Glenvil: What? Adam! That's wonderful news. Congratulations. When's it due?

Adam: It's, er, not for another six months.

There's a knock on the door.

Glenvil: That's great news. I'm really happy for you.

A young woman, Vera Stephens, opens the door to look in.

Stephens: Excuse me, there's no one outside.

Glenvil: It's all right. Do come in. Take a seat.

Stephens: Are you Mr Wainwright?

Adam steps forward.

Adam: Um, I'm Adam Wainwright. This is Glenvil Harris, my constituency chairman. How can I help?

Stephens: Stephens. Vera Stephens.

They shake hands.

Stephens: I don't know who else to turn to, Mr Wainwright. I've been to my trade union, the Citizens Advice Bureau, and no one wants to know.

Adam: Well, what's happened?

Stephens: I work at Richardson's, d'you know them?

She sits down.

Glenvil: The wireless factory?

Stephens: That's the one.

Adam sits down opposite.

Stephens: I started working there two years into the w*r. They were glad to have us then.

Adam: Us?

Stephens: Women. I did very well for myself, worked my way up to supervisor. £8 a week, two weeks holiday, thank you very much. And then, a few weeks ago, Mr Richardson calls me into his office and tells me straight to my face that I'm back on the production line, on half the salary, 'cause there's a man coming in. He's given my job to a man. Where's the fairness in that?

Adam: And you say that your union representative can't help?

Stephens: No one wants to help me, Mr Wainwright. Even my own husband seems to think it's reasonable. But I want my job and you're my MP. What are you going to do?

Carlyle Gardens. Sam and Foyle drive up to the front gates of number 7. Sam gazes up at the house.

Sam: Who lives here?

Foyle: An extremely wealthy man who runs an oil company. Won't be long.

He gets out and walks up to the front gate, ringing the bell. A man comes out to speak to him through the gate.

Man: Name, sir?

Foyle: Foyle.

Man: All right.

He opens the gate to let him in.

Grant (voiceover): Good afternoon.

Foyle (voiceover): Good afternoon.

He's at the door speaking with Del Mar's right-hand man, Mr Grant.

Foyle: I have an appointment with Mr Clayton Del Mar.

Grant: Yes, Mr Foyle. Do come in.

Foyle: Thank you.

Inside. Clayton Del Mar leads Foyle through into the lounge.

Clayton: Take a seat, Mr Foyle.

Foyle: Thank you.

Clayton: You're in the security service.

Foyle: Yes.

Clayton: Well, you must tell me how I can help you. You know, my pop was advising you guys back in the '30s.

Foyle: Is that right?

Clayton: Yeah. It's just a shame you didn't listen to what he had to say.

He chuckles and goes to the sideboard to pour himself a drink.

Clayton: He knew which way the wind was blowing. h*tler and the n*zi. You know, this was a w*r that could've been avoided. Drink?

Foyle: I won't, thank you.

Clayton: It was an economic w*r. Depression, unemployment. What does the world do? Puts tariffs on global products. Makes it pretty much impossible for Germany to pay off its debts, you know?

He sits down across from Foyle.

Clayton: And the Versailles Treaty? That was crazy to start with. Made w*r inevitable, and for what? 50 million people dead, maybe more. Anyway, you're about to say why you're here.

Foyle: Yes, erm, looking for information about a man called William Knowles.

Clayton: Knowles? Afraid I don't know him.

Foyle: Found dead not far from here, in Hyde Park.

Clayton: Very sorry to hear it. That's too bad. What's it gotta do with me?

Foyle: He had... this in his pocket.

He takes the scrap of paper out and hands it to Clayton.

Clayton: Yeah, that's, er, that's my address all right. But he didn't come here. When was this?

Foyle: Yesterday.

Clayton: Ten o'clock yesterday? Well, I was just finishing dinner, then I went to bed. My wife was asleep, so was my father. He's an invalid.

Foyle: Well, it would appear he had a meeting here with someone, wouldn't you say?

Clayton: Lot of people try to get a bite of my time, Mr Foyle.

Foyle: With a specific appointment, it looks like.

Clayton: Ten o'clock.

Foyle: Yeah. Er, we shouldn't, of course, assume it was ten at night. It could, er, well have been 10:00am yesterday, or even 10:00am this morning.

Clayton: I don't assume anything, Mr Foyle. I've already told you I did not meet with this man. Why would you have any reason to believe that I'm lying to you? Who was he, anyway?

Foyle: Er, he was a professor at University College.

Clayton gets up to pour himself another drink.

Clayton: Ah, well, my father and myself have given a lot of money to a lot of colleges. You give to the one and the others come begging. Ain't that the way with you limeys? But, er, I did not meet with your Mr Knowles. You're wasting your time, and, and, frankly, mine.

Foyle stands up.

Foyle: I understand. Thank you.

Grant leads Foyle back out through the house. They pass Clayton's wife Edith as she heads up the stairs. Grant opens the door to let Foyle out.

Grant: Good afternoon, sir.

Foyle: Good afternoon.

As he leaves and Grant closes the door, Clayton steps out into the hallway and approaches Grant.

Clayton: Grant. You didn't deal with that business quite as I'd hoped.

Grant: I did exactly as you asked.

Clayton: You got the photograph, yes, but he also had my address in his pocket. Didn't you look?

Grant: I did look, sir.

Clayton: You missed it.

Edith (offscreen): Clayton, I need your help.

Clayton: Oh, what is it, baby?

She comes back down the stairs and Grant moves off.

Edith: I can't decide what to wear for dinner tonight. The Charatans. I've put out three dresses...

Clayton: The Charatans?

Edith: You know, from Long Island? We met them at the Ritz.

Clayton: Yeah, yeah, I'll come see.

She heads back up the stairs.

Outside. Sam is sitting waiting in the car. She watches as a man, Nikolei Leskov, comes out of the phone box near the gates of the Del Mar property and slowly walks away, turning to glance back at the house. A few moments after he passes her, Foyle returns and gets into the car.

Sam: How was it?

Foyle: Interesting man.

Sam: Are we watching him, by any chance?

Foyle: Not as far as I'm aware.

Sam: Well, someone is.

She watches Leskov in her rear-view mirror where he's stopped to light a cigarette.

Foyle: Oh, yeah?

He turns to look out through the window. Leskov turns and walks away.

University College. Foyle walks up the front steps.

Later. A porter leads Foyle through an archway into the main quadrangle.

Porter: Professor Knowles' office is on the first floor in the main quad.

Foyle: Mm-hmm.

Porter: Is he all right?

Foyle: When did you last see him?

Porter: Er, he was here just the other day.

Foyle: Which other day was that?

Porter: That would've been Tuesday. He was in a bit of a hurry, just popped in and out again.

Inside. The porter leads Foyle through the corridors of the first floor.

Porter: He hadn't been here for two months. In fact, I was beginning to think he'd left altogether. Er, it's just here, sir.

He unlocks the door to let Foyle into the office.

Porter: I'll leave you to it.

Foyle: Thank you.

Porter: Let me know when you go.

Foyle: I will.

He walks into the office and closes the door behind him. Looking around the room, he sees there's an empty folder open on the desk. He closes it, and sees that it's marked DO NOT REMOVE. There's also a copy of Mein Kampf on the desk, which he lifts up to get a look at the book underneath. It's a chemistry text. The door opens, and Foyle looks up as Knowles' colleague Doctor Elizabeth Addis walks in.

Addis: Can I help you?

Foyle: Er, well, no, I'm managing quite well, thank you.

Addis: Who are you? What exactly are you doing here, rummaging around in William's desk? How did you even get in? This door is usually locked.

Foyle: The porter let me in.

Addis: Why? Where's William?

Foyle: How do you know Mr Knowles?

Addis: You clearly don't know him at all. He's Professor Knowles.

Foyle: Beg your pardon.

Addis: We're colleagues. We're friends. I work next door.

Foyle: Then I'm sorry to have to tell you that, er, Professor Knowles was found dead yesterday morning.

Addis: What?

Foyle: m*rder.

Addis: In Germany?

Foyle: Is that where he was?

Addis: I'm not going to tell you anything until you tell me who you are. Are you a policeman?

Foyle: Not exactly. Er, I'm primarily someone trying to help, which is proving rather difficult. He was in Germany, is that right?

Addis: In Nuremberg, as a translator. He was... working at the trials.

Foyle: Ah. Which would explain this, then?

He taps the copy of Mein Kampf.

Addis: He was interested in the psychology of language, not the content. We're building an extensive archive on the rise of n*zi from 1919 through to the start of the w*r. We all know how it ended. It's important to understand how it all began.

Foyle: Er, when was the last time you saw him?

Addis: Are you interrogating me?

Foyle: Well, of course not. Er, simply asking the questions that need to be answered in order to find out who k*ll him and why.

Addis: I haven't spoken to him since he went to Germany.

Foyle: Apparently, he was here on Tuesday and in rather a hurry, according to the porter. There'd have been a reason for him coming here.

Addis: He must have visited the archive.

Foyle: How would you know that?

Addis: This shouldn't be here. Nothing's meant to be removed.

Foyle picks up the empty folder to show her the serial number.

Foyle: Serial number. Erm, does that mean anything?

Addis: That's a photographic file.

Foyle: Empty. Possible to find out, er, what it contained?

Addis: I can have a look.

Foyle: Thank you. D'you know where he lived?

Addis: 11 Kathleen Crescent.

Foyle: Was he married?

Addis: Yes.

Foyle: D'you know to whom?

Addis: A dear friend. Her name is Hilary.

Foyle: And yours?

Addis: Elizabeth Addis.

Foyle: Professor?

Addis: Doctor.

Foyle: Thank you.

He moves to leave.

Addis: And yours?

Foyle: Foyle. Mister.

He leaves.

Kathleen Crescent. Sam and Foyle drive up to the house.

Sam: So she was married for ten years? When did they tell her?

Foyle: Yesterday. So, are you happy to do this?

Sam: Yes, absolutely.

Foyle: Good.

They both get out of the car.

Knowles sitting room. Hilary struggles to breathe as she talks to Sam while Foyle stands observing.

Hilary: I don't know what I'm going to do. I'm on my own now. He was all I ever had, William. Not that he was ever here. Three years at Bletchley, the university, then Nuremberg. You'd have thought they could have found someone else who spoke German.

Sam: I'm very sorry, Mrs Knowles.

Hilary: He comes home for one day. One day, and then he goes and gets himself k*ll.

She starts to cough.

Sam: How long have you been ill?

Hilary: I can't remember when I wasn't ill. Kidneys. I'm in pain, I, I find it hard to breathe. Oh, we spent every penny we had trying to make me better.

Sam: But couldn't the university help?

Foyle glances at the table, where Hilary's passport is lying out.

Hilary: He had insurance, but that was no good to me.

She takes the passport from the table.

Hilary: Ten years we were married and we were happy together. Then this.

Sam: Did he ever talk to you about his work?

Hilary coughs.

Hilary: He didn't want to say anything. I don't know why they're bothering with a trial. sh**t the lot and be done with it.

Sam: So why did he come home?

Hilary: He came to see me. He was worried about me.

Foyle: He bring anything back with him? Documents, files?

Hilary: He brought me a few things. He got them from the Americans. Soap and chocolate. And that.

She gestures to a bottle of High Castle whisky that stands on the mantelpiece.

Hilary: I don't know why he brought that. I don't even drink whisky. He doesn't like it either.

Outside. Foyle turns as Sam comes out of the house after him.

Foyle: Well done.

Sam: Well, I don't know, she wasn't very forthcoming.

Foyle: Well, she certainly wasn't telling the truth.

Back street. A young man, Viktor Krasovsky, hurries along nervously, looking back over his shoulder. He sees Valentine standing in an open doorway up ahead. Valentine goes inside, and Viktor follows him. Valentine is lurking just inside the doorway and they begin to speak in Russian.

Valentine (subtitled): How are you?

Viktor (subtitled): I'm alright.

Valentine (subtitled): You have something for me?

Viktor (subtitled): Maybe. I don't know.

Valentine (subtitled): I hope you're not wasting my time.

He lays a hand on Viktor's shoulder.

Viktor (subtitled): No, a man came yesterday, from Moscow. His name is Nikolei Leskov. He is Third Secretary.

Valentine (subtitled): They're all Third Secretaries, Viktor.

Viktor (subtitled): But this one is special.

Valentine drops his hand from Viktor's shoulder.

Viktor (subtitled): Maybe SMERSH or NKVD, I don't know.

Valentine lays has hand back on Viktor's shoulder.

Valentine (subtitled): Why is he in London?

Viktor (subtitled): He is making contact with a businessman. An American. A big man. Very important.

Valentine grips Viktor's chin in his hand.

Valentine (subtitled): And the name of this American?

Viktor: Clayton Del Mar. Global American Oil.

Valentine: Clayton Del Mar.

He pats Viktor on the shoulder, then gives him an envelope.

Del Mar house. The maid, Mildred, is coming down the stairs with a tea tray as Clayton heads up.

Clayton: Is he happy?

Mildred: No, not really, sir.

Clayton sighs. He reaches a door on the landing and knocks before letting himself in.

Inside. Andrew Del Mar is sitting up in bed.

Clayton (offscreen): I'm heading for the office.

Andrew nods.

Clayton: Oh, wish me luck.

Andrew: What are you talking about?

Clayton: I have this meeting today, Pop, you remember? The Iranian Soviet Oil Company.

Andrew: Never call it that. It doesn't exist.

Clayton: Right.

Andrew: It's illegal. If you don't believe that, how will you persuade them?

Clayton: Yeah.

Andrew: And don't talk to them about law, Clayton. They're Arabs. What do they know about law? Talk to them about money.

Clayton: I know, Pop.

Andrew: Make them know they've been humiliated. Then, when you see the Shah, that's when you talk about the law.

He starts to get out of breath and reaches for an oxygen mask on the chair next to him.

Clayton (offscreen): I've got it. I know what I'm doing.

Andrew takes a breath from the mask.

Clayton: How are you getting on with, er...?

Andrew: The Silver b*llet.

Clayton: I'll get Edith to come up and read for you.

Andrew: No. I don't like the way she reads. I don't like her voice.

Clayton: Oh, don't be like that, Pop. We're looking for someone. You shouldn't have gotten rid of the last one.

Andrew: She annoyed me.

Clayton: Doctor's coming in this afternoon. I'll come back up the moment I get back, okay?

Outside. Clayton leaves the house and gets into his car. They drive up to the gates and one of the staff runs over to open them.

Adam's office. Glenvil is at work at the desk while Adam stands speaking with union rep Horace Chorley.

Chorley: Yes, so I met Mrs Stephens and I told her that there was nothing more I could do.

Adam: But you are her union rep.

Chorley: Well, we do represent the workers at Richardson's Wireless, but as you are well aware, we have no women members.

Adam: Because you don't allow them.

Chorley: All the unions in this sector are the same. Amalgamated Engineering do have some women members, but only on a temporary basis. Even so, I did intervene on Mrs Stephens' behalf, and she has me to thank for securing her a job on the assembly line.

Glenvil: At half her previous salary.

Chorley: Well, it's better than no job at all. 700,000 women have left work in the last year.

Adam: Most of them left voluntarily.

Chorley: Well, I think you're being a bit hypocritical, Mr Wainwright, with respect. It's your government that keeps closing down nurseries to force women out of work.

Adam: That's not the reason.

Glenvil: There are too many nurseries, they're underused, and they're too expensive.

Chorley: Well. I've said my piece.

Adam: Well, thanks for coming in, Mr Chorley.

Chorley: D'you know what I think? And I'm not speaking here in an official capacity. But I don't know why women wanna work, anyway. It's not like the money's gonna be any use to them. There's nothing in the shops to buy and, right now, they've got more important things to do.

Glenvil: What would these be, Horace?

Chorley: We've got to increase the population. We lost too many men in that bloody w*r. That's their job.

He leaves.

MI5 typing pool. Foyle walks through and approaches Patricia Scott at one of tables. Pierce is standing nearby.

Foyle: How much do you know about whisky?

Patricia: Not much, sir. I prefer Mother's ruin.

Foyle: Yeah, I thought so. There's a whisky label called High Castle. See what you can find.

Patricia: Sir.

Foyle: And a woman called Elizabeth Addis, University College lecturer. See if we've got anything.

Patricia: Right away, sir.

As she walks off, Pierce gives her a nod.

Foyle's office. He walks into the room.

Foyle: Oh, I see.

Valentine: I'm just keeping your seat warm for you.

He's sitting behind Foyle's desk, smoking and reading a newspaper.

Foyle: How thoughtful. What do you want?

Valentine stands up as Foyle walks towards the desk.

Valentine: There's a coincidence, might interest you. I have a low-level contact at the Soviet Embassy.

Foyle: How do you know him?

He sits down behind the desk.

Valentine: Oh, bumped into him in a club. Not the sort of place his employers would like to know he frequented. Matter of fact, not the sort of place my employers would like to know I frequented, but, er, anyway, he's a waiter at the embassy, and according to him, a Soviet agent flew in recently, could be NKVD, at any rate highly regarded. Name of Leskov and he's doing business with your man Clayton Del Mar.

Foyle: What sort of business?

Valentine: He couldn't tell me, but I've asked him to dig a little deeper.

Foyle: I thought Del Mar was with us.

Valentine: So did I.

Foyle: We should take a closer look at him.

Valentine: This might help. They're advertising for a companion for Clayton Del Mar's father. He's an invalid.

He opens up the newspaper to read.

Valentine: "Single, intelligent woman wanted for conversation and companionship."

Foyle: Oh, yes? And who might you have in mind?

There's a knock on the door, and Sam pokes her head in.

Sam: Sir?

Foyle: No.

He shakes his head at Valentine.

Global American Oil building. Clayton Del Mar's car arrives outside. Grant and another man get out.

Man: Are you ready?

He speaks to the driver as Grant opens the door for Clayton.

Man: Wait here for us.

CAPTION: GLOBAL AMERICAN OIL HQ

Clayton (voiceover): Gentlemen.

Inside. He stands addressing a group of men around a conference table.

Clayton: Stalin wants your oil. That's all he wants. He's offered to return your territories in Azerbaijan and Turkestan, but he will never do that.

One of the men at the table is quietly interpreting as he speaks.

Clayton: And, in the meantime, you have set up the company Iranian Soviet Oil and given him a 51% share in your oil. 51%. Forgive me, but that's crazy. Right now, in the Kremlin, he's laughing at you. Let me talk to His Majesty, the Shah. An audience in Tehran, that's all I ask. And believe me when I tell you that, right now, like it or not your interests should be with the British.

The interpreter finishes and the man that he's sitting with nods.

Building lobby. Leskov stands against a pillar, lighting a cigarette, as Clayton and Grant see the Iranian businessmen out.

Clayton: Thank you so much for coming. Please convey my regards to the Shah and his family. It was a pleasure to meet you.

He shakes hands members of the group.

Businessman: Yes.

Clayton: Thank you very much. Have a safe trip home. Thank you. Very nice to meet you. Thank you very much. Have a safe trip. Thank you very much. Bye-bye.

Leskov moves across to stand against another pillar so he can listen in as the Iranian group leave.

Clayton: Well, Grant, I think I'm gonna need my passport.

Leskov watches as the two of them leave.

Wainwright house. Adam stands over Sam where she's sitting at the breakfast table.

Sam: It's only for a few days.

Adam: Anything could happen. If you'd told Mr Foyle the truth, he never would have asked you?

Sam: The truth?

Adam: The baby.

Sam sighs and stands up and moves to leave the room.

Sam: Mr Foyle didn't ask me, I volunteered! But that's not the point.

She heads out to grab her hat from the hallway and goes into the sitting room to put it on in front of the mirror.

Sam: I'm not going anywhere dangerous, I'm in Kensington, reading to an old man.

Adam follows her into the room.

Adam: I still say no.

Sam: I wasn't asking your permission, Adam.

Adam: Oh, I see. So you're going to do it anyway?

Sam: It's my job.

Adam: Well, that's not true. You're not a spy, even if you pretend to be.

Sam: What?

Adam: You're married to me now. You're expecting our child. I'm sorry, but you've got to grow up and start facing reality.

She scoffs as he leaves the room.

Sam: Well, if this is reality, then maybe I don't want it.

She sighs. Adam clatters around in the kitchen. Sam heads out to the front door and opens it.

Sam: By the way, I've seen the spare room. It's lovely.

She leaves, slamming the door behind her as Adam stares after her.

MI5 building. Sir Alec and Pierce walk down a staircase together.

Sir Alec: I had a call from Clayton Del Mar. We're having luncheon together.

Pierce: Oh, how very pleasant.

Sir Alec: He's spoken to the Shah's advisers, and next week he flies to Tehran to meet the Shah himself.

Pierce: How'd he manage that?

Sir Alec: They went to the same school in Switzerland, apparently. Not at the same time.

Pierce: I notice you didn't mention any of this to Foyle.

Sir Alec: Should I have?

Pierce: Well, it might have been relevant.

They arrive at Sir Alec's office. As they head inside, the secretary outside gets up to follow them in with a piece of paper.

Sir Alec: Well, need to know, and I rather doubt he does, truth be told. Any news on this man Knowles?

He takes the paper from the secretary.

Pierce: No, not yet. But Valentine's come up with something. He thinks your man may have been talking to the Soviets.

Sir Alec: Clayton Del Mar? That's ridiculous.

Pierce hands him a file as the secretary leaves.

Pierce: The report.

Sir Alec opens the file.

Sir Alec: A waiter? I really think we can do better than that. What about that other matter we were discussing? Foyle.

Pierce: I'm working on it.

She heads out of the room.

Pierce: Have a nice lunch.

Office. Sam stands in front of Foyle as he paces.

Foyle: I'm not at all sure about this.

Sam: Sir, I, I'd like to contribute. I, I really do want to.

Foyle: Yeah, I'm sure, but there are others here perfectly able to do this. Why you?

Sam: It's about time I made myself useful.

She looks over at Valentine, who's sitting on the sidelines. He looks down without getting involved.

Foyle: But only on condition that somebody monitors this throughout, hmm?

Valentine: I'll do it myself.

Foyle turns to Sam as he heads out of the room.

Foyle: Look after yourself.

As he walks out, Patricia Scott stands waiting outside with a file. The door closes behind him.

Sam: I haven't got the job yet.

Valentine: Hmm.

Sam: What happens if they don't pick me?

Valentine: I rather think they will. There were no other applicants. We made sure of that. Come on.

He opens the door for her.

Patricia (voiceover): And that's about all there is.

She's showing Foyle a set of papers on High Castle whisky in another office.

Patricia: It's a malt whisky distilled in Tain. Very popular with the Americans.

Foyle: You're absolutely right.

He heads out of the room and she walks along the corridor with him.

Patricia: And Elizabeth Addis. Total clearance. Two years in the Cairo office. Planning assistant to Lord Glenconner and then Major General Stawell. Then she came back to London, advising on SOE Middle East affairs. Husband died in a car accident, no children.

Foyle: Right. Thank you.

A street of industrial buildings. Adam and Glenvil walk along together.

Adam: What do you think of Vera Stephens?

Glenvil: Attractive woman.

Adam: Am I right to be supporting her?

Glenvil: Why d'you ask?

Adam: Just not sure.

Glenvil: You have a wife who works.

Adam: That's different.

Glenvil: Is it? You either believe in something or you don't. That's what impressed us about you when we first met you, Adam. You knew exactly where you stood. Here we are.

Richardson Wireless. Cyril Richardson leads them past a production line.

Richardson: We did our bit during the w*r, Mr Wainwright. We moved from domestic production into radar. The triodes and vacuum tubes manufactured here were installed all along the coast. And I'm proud of that.

He leads them into his office.

Adam: Well, no one's doubting your w*r record, Mr Richardson.

Richardson closes the door behind them.

Richardson: I just don't take very kindly to these accusations.

Glenvil: We're not accusing you of anything.

Richardson: Aren't you? Well, it seems to me quite high-handed, walking into my factory like this. Now, as for Mrs Stephens, I always knew she was trouble, right from the word go, that one.

Adam: But she did a good job.

Richardson: I don't deny it. She and many others who have gone home, and quite right too.

Adam: But she didn't want to.

Richardson: Look, I told her from the very start it was a temporary position.

Adam: Well, that's not how Mrs Stephens remembers it.

Richardson: I did what I could for her. A job on the production line. It was as much as she deserved.

He turns to shout through the door.

Richardson: George!

He opens the door for employee George Buckingham, who has a b*rned face and a limp and is missing his right arm.

George: You wanted to see me, sir?

Richardson: George, I was wondering if those parts had arrived.

George: English Electrics, sir?

Richardson: Aye.

George: No, I'm afraid not. I've been on at them. I can get them on the blower, if you like.

Richardson: No, no, no, just, just keep me informed. Thank you.

George leaves again and Richardson closes the door.

Richardson: George Buckingham, our production supervisor, the man that Mrs Stephens replaced. He was with us for five years before he joined up. He was in Italy and he copped it at Anzio. That is how he came home. Now, Mr Wainwright, was I to tell him I didn't have a job for him? That I couldn't take him back? Or did I do the right thing? Now you tell me.

University College archive. Addis shows Foyle a set of file folders at a desk.

Addis: There were actually twelve pictures in a sequence. One is missing, which must be the one William took. This is the next.

Foyle: There was a group of businessmen who supported the n*zi called the Friends of Himmler.

The photo shows a group of men in suits standing with two German officers.

Foyle: Would these have anything to do with that, d'you think?

Addis: Yes. They were taken in Berlin in 1939. These were essentially businessmen who were supplying the n*zi Party with funds.

Foyle: So not necessarily all of these men are German?

Addis: Correct. There were honorary members and special guests. Dutch, American, even British. All looking to the Russian oilfields. If there was a w*r and the Germans won, this would be their way in.

Outside. Foyle and Addis walk through the university grounds together.

Addis: But why would William have wanted to take that particular photograph?

Foyle: Well, that's the question. How long had he been at Nuremberg?

Addis: Two months.

Foyle: And translating for whom?

Addis: I'm sorry to say I have no idea. This is where I turn off.

They stop walking.

Foyle: Oh, yeah? Er, well, thank you for your help.

He moves to go.

Addis: Mr Foyle, excuse me. I spoke to the porter after you left last time. He said you were from the Home Office.

Foyle: Well, that's what I told him.

Addis: I assumed at once that meant the security service. Would I be right?

Foyle: Yes.

Addis: I was rather rude to you.

Foyle: Not at all.

Addis: I owe you an apology.

Foyle: Accepted. Bye.

He turns away.

Cell block. A guard stands up from his desk with a set of keys as a doctor is escorted to the gate.

CAPTION: NUREMBERG PRISON

A sergeant walks past as the gate guards lets the doctor and his escort, Charlie, in.

Sergeant: Hey, Charlie.

Charlie: Sarge.

The guard locks the gate again as they walk in.

Cell. Prisoner Herman Linz is sitting at a desk writing. He turns as he hears someone unlock the door. The doctor walks in.

Doctor: Guten tag, Herr Linz.

Linz: Oh. Guten tag.

Doctor: I understand you've not been feeling well?

Linz: I want my letters. Why are they being kept from me?

Doctor: I'm afraid it's not my job to distribute the mail.

Linz: You're a doctor, hmm? Maybe you can help me. I'm a wealthy man.

Doctor: I can ask the lieutenant.

Linz stands up from the desk.

Linz: Where's Mr Knowles?

Doctor: I believe he's still in England.

Linz: Mr Knowles has been very kind to me. He seems to be the only one who understands that all this, this trial, is a travesty. I'm not a soldier. I'm a businessman. The transport manager for a company known and respected all over the world. All the brightest people in Germany worked for IG Farben. People who have won the Nobel Prize worked for IG Farben and the Americans, back then, they would have done anything to get their hands on our technology. And now they do this to me! Why?

He slams his hands on the desk. The guard steps up behind the doctor in the doorway.

Linz: This is not justice. This is revenge.

The doctor hands him a stack of books and papers.

Doctor: I brought you something to read. Books and newspapers from London. Are you sleeping all right, Herr Linz?

Linz: I sleep, I read, I sleep. Danke schön and get out. You can do nothing for me.

He sits down at the desk.

Linz: Raus hier!

The doctor leaves and the guard locks the door behind him.

Carlyle Gardens. Valentine parks his car. Sam is in the passenger seat.

Valentine: I'll wait for you here. Good luck.

Sam: Thank you.

Valentine: Nervous?

Sam: A bit.

Valentine: Good. Keep you on your toes.

She gets out and walks towards the Del Mar property.

Clayton (voiceover): Yeah, you have excellent references...

He stands in his study reading Sam's CV.

Clayton: ...Miss Stewart. You were in the MTC during the w*r?

Sam's sitting opposite him.

Sam: Yes.

Clayton: And before that, a teacher.

Sam: In Hastings.

Clayton: Your father is a vicar.

Sam: Yes, and I have an uncle who's a bishop. We're a very religious family.

Clayton: Hmm. Unmarried.

Sam: Shortage of men.

Clayton: Of course. Enjoy reading?

Sam: It's my favourite pastime, Mr Del Mar.

Clayton: What in particular?

Sam: Oh, anything I can get my hands on, really. Er, Agatha Christie, Ellery Queen.

Clayton: Crime novels?

Sam: Yes.

Clayton: My father enjoys Seth Carter.

Sam: Ah. Right.

Clayton: Pop is a remarkable man, Miss Stewart. An exceptional human being.

Sam stands up as he walks over to a portrait of his father on the door.

Clayton: It was my grandfather who established Global American Oil in Dallas at the end of the last century, but it was my daddy who turned it into the worldwide corporation it is today.

Sam: Mmm. May I ask why you're in London?

Clayton: We have to look to the east. To the Middle East in particular, and to the Soviet Union. That's where the next w*r will start. And it'll be a w*r for oil.

He points at a painting of an oilfield beside the sea.

Clayton: Sadly, a few years ago, my father became ill. He has an infection of the heart, he hasn't long to live.

Sam: I'm very sorry.

Clayton: Well, he should be in Palm Beach, not stuck here in London, but he won't hear of it.

Sam: I suppose family matters to him.

Clayton: Business matters to him, Miss Stewart. He seems to think the moment he goes, it'll all fall apart.

Sam: I'm sure you're very glad to have him here.

Clayton: I honour him and I want his remaining years to be comfortable. I have to say, I am disappointed with the response I got from my advertisement, but I think you'll do swell. Shall we say a one-month trial?

Sam: Thank you, Mr Del Mar.

Clayton: Live-in, of course.

Sam: I understand.

Clayton: Grant?

The door opens.

Clayton: Will you take Miss Stewart upstairs to meet Pop?

Grant walks in with a nod and gestures Sam ahead of him.

Andrew Del Mar's bedroom. Mildred picks up a tea tray.

Mildred: Thank you, sir.

She goes to leave, and holds the door to let Sam and Grant in.

Andrew: Who are you?

Sam: I'm your new companion.

Andrew: Sit down.

Grant remains by the door as Sam takes a seat in an armchair at the foot of the bed.

Andrew: Come closer, where I can see you.

He coughs as she moves to a chair by the head of the bed.

Andrew: What's your name?

Sam: I'm Sam.

Andrew: That's not a woman's name.

Sam: It's short for Samantha. Samantha... Stewart.

Andrew: You're very cute.

She laughs a little.

Sam: Thank you.

Andrew: Read to me.

He points to a book. Sam picks it up.

Sam: The Silver b*llet?

He nods. She clears her throat and starts to red from it.

Sam: "The Anderson place was on Olive Street, close by Sixth on the East Side. The wind was blowing the litter across the sidewalk and, as I climbed out of the car, I could hear a dog barking in a room above the Chinese launderette. And a blank-faced man stood outside, waiting."

Andrew nods and looks at Grant.

Andrew: She'll do.

Grant nods.

Sam: Thank you, sir.

Andrew watches her as Grant holds the door for her to leave.

MI5 building. Pierce and Foyle walk through the corridors together.

Pierce: Nuremberg?

Foyle: Yes, Knowles had come from Nuremberg. He went straight to the university archive where he removed a photograph.

They head down a staircase together.

Foyle: The photograph was of a group of businessmen who were n*zi sympathisers.

Pierce: Well, the police didn't find one on the body. Do you know the reason he was k*ll?

Foyle: No. And we're unlikely to find it here.

Pierce: So you're asking us to fly you to Nuremberg.

Foyle: Well, that's where the answers are.

Street outside the Wainwright house. Vera Stephens walks round and knocks on the front door.

Inside. Adam opens the door.

Adam: Mrs Stephens.

Stephens: Can I come in?

Adam: Er, you should really see me at the constituency office.

Stephens: I've just come from there. I only live round the corner.

Adam: Come in, please.

He gestures her through into the sitting room and follows her in.

Adam: Do, do sit down.

Stephens: Oh.

Adam: Sorry.

He moves a briefcase off the armchair and they sit down opposite each other.

Adam: I, er, haven't really made very much progress, I'm afraid. Would you like a cup of tea?

Stephens: No, thank you.

Adam: I've spoken to Horace Chorley at the union, and I've also been to see Richardson's Wireless.

Stephens: I'm sure Mr Richardson told lies about me. He doesn't like me.

Adam: To be fair to him, I'd say he was very honest and open-handed.

Stephens: But he won't give me my job back.

Adam: Your position has been taken by the man Mr Richardson says you replaced during the w*r.

Stephens: That wasn't what he told me.

Adam: Well, as you are aware, your replacement Mr Buckingham was very badly injured at Anzio.

Stephens: And I'm very sorry for him, but I don't see what that's got to do with it.

Adam: I, I don't think there's anything more I can do for you.

Stephens: You won't get me my job back? Well, you're the same as all of them.

She stands up.

Stephens: The boss, the trade union, the MP, the new supervisor. And, have you noticed? You're all men?

Adam stands up.

Adam: There are plenty of other jobs out there, I, I can help-

Stephens: I don't want to be a teacher or a shop assistant.

Adam: Maybe being at home.

Stephens: I don't want to be at home! When I first got the job at Richardson's, it was a godsend. It was the first time in my life I actually felt worth something.

Adam: Please.

Stephens: And now it's been taken away from me.

Adam: You're...

Stephens: But you will help me. I know you will, please, I...

She steps forward to bury her head against his chest and he pats her on the back. Sam opens the sitting room door and sees the two of them.

Sam: Adam?

Adam: Sam!

She turns and walks straight back out, slamming the front door.

Restaurant. A waiter leads Sir Alec and Clayton Del Mar into the room.

Clayton: This is very nice of you, Alec. I bet you don't pay.

Sir Alec: My department is always happy to show its appreciation.

Clayton: I know. When did they make you Sir Alec?

Sir Alec: Back in '43.

Clayton: Services to spying?

Sir Alec: No, I was at the Admiralty.

Clayton: Well, maybe you can get one for me. Why not? You did it for Ike.

Sir Alec: General Eisenhower received the Order of Merit, but that was honorary.

Clayton: Forget it. I'm pulling your leg.

They sit down at their table together as the waiter approaches with a bottle of wine.

Sir Alec: We are grateful.

Clayton: You should be. I've heard from Tehran.

Waiter: Sir Alec?

The waiter pours him some wine.

Clayton: I'm going in next week.

Sir Alec: Well, that's very good.

Clayton: Very good. Ha! It's not every day you get an audience with the Shah. The way things are out there-

Waiter: Sir?

Clayton nods to him.

Clayton: He's the only one who can untangle this agreement his government made with the Soviets.

Sir Alec: But will he deal with us?

Clayton: No. Last time he got into bed with you Brits, you were making three times as much profit out of tax revenue as the Shah was getting for his oil.

Sir Alec: But he'll deal with you.

Clayton: What can I say? We went to the same school.

He takes a drink of his wine.

Clayton: Hmm. You wanna stop Soviet expansion in the Middle East, Alec. That's what it's all about.

Sir Alec: What can we do to help?

Clayton: I'll let you know if I need anything. In the meantime, keep out of it. And by that, I mean right out, okay? I had a visit from one of your people.

Sir Alec: Foyle.

Clayton: I don't wanna see him again. I didn't like his style.

Sir Alec: Well, his job is to protect you. A man was k*ll.

Clayton: I have my own protection. Thanks anyway.

Sir Alec: Foyle isn't even in the country at the moment. He's on his way to Nuremberg.

Clayton: You don't say.

They look at each other in silence a moment.

Clayton: Anything happens to me, you can forget Iran. You know that.

Sir Alec: I trust you completely. I don't suppose any of our other friends have tried to contact you?

Clayton: Didn't know you had other friends.

Sir Alec: The Soviets.

Clayton laughs.

Clayton: Why on Earth would I talk to them?

Sir Alec: Oh, one of my people mentioned a name, Nikolei Leskov.

Clayton: Never heard of him. Really.

Sir Alec: But, if you hear from him, you'll let us know.

Clayton: Of course.

He raises his wine and they both drink.

Del Mar house. Sam follows Mildred up the stairs.

Sam: Lovely house.

Sam (voiceover): "Finn was wrapped in a dark Shetland sports coat..."

She sits reading to Andrew Del Mar in his room. It's dark outside the windows.

Sam: "...with a blue and yellow scarf pulled tight around his neck. He had a snap-brim hat pulled so low over his eyes I was surprised he could see anything of the world around him, but maybe he preferred it that way."

Andrew: That's enough.

He coughs a little.

Andrew: What did you say your name was?

Sam: Sam Stewart.

Andrew: Miss Stewart, talk to me.

Sam: Talk?

Andrew: You're being paid for your conversation.

Sam: How long have you been like this, ill?

Andrew: I'm dying. Maybe six months, maybe a year.

Sam: Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.

Andrew: I'm not. I met h*tler once, you know. Strong man. Great man. Great leader. Did what he had to. Made Germany strong again and gave the Germans back their self-respect.

Sam: He lost the w*r.

Andrew: Now he's gone, there is no one. Stalin's a tyrant. Truman's weak. Hell in a handcart. Do you believe in hell, Miss Stewart?

Sam: No, actually, I don't.

Andrew: Then you don't know anything. Get out. I want to sleep.

He settles down against the pillow. Sam gets up to leave.

Staircase. Sam descends the stairs, but pulls back when she sees Mildred carrying a tray through the hallway below.

Sam: Oh, hello.

Mildred moves on and Sam continues through the house, following the sound of voices.

Clayton (offscreen): Nuremberg means Linz. There can't be any other reason.

Grant (offscreen): Can you reach him?

Clayton (offscreen): It's all taken care of.

Sam approaches the door of the study. Grant is visible through the door where it's been left ajar.

Clayton (offscreen): Now, I'm in Iran next week, flying direct to Tehran.

Grant: Yes, sir.

Edith: Can I help you?

Sam jumps and turns.

Edith: That's my husband's den.

Sam: Yes, I, I thought I heard him talking.

Edith: You're not meant to go in there.

Sam: Oh, I, I wasn't going to.

Edith: I'm Edith Del Mar.

Sam: I'm Samantha Stewart, I'm Mr Del Mar's new companion.

Edith: I don't suppose you'll be with us for every long. None of them ever are.

Clayton comes out of the study.

Clayton: Oh, hello, honey.

He looks at Sam.

Clayton: What are you doing here?

Sam: I was just explaining to your wife, er, I was just taking a look around.

Clayton: Does my father not need you?

Sam: No, he said he's had enough for today.

Clayton: Then maybe you should go to your room.

Sam: Right.

She walks away.

Clayton: Was she listening?

Edith: Oh, no, dear, I don't think so. She was just wandering around.

He heads back into the study, closing the door behind him.

Nuremberg. Foyle approaches the Palace of Justice through the snow.

CAPTION: NUREMBERG PALACE OF JUSTICE

Deakin (voiceover): How was your flight?

Foyle (voiceover): Well, RAF transport, and all that that means.

Foyle walks through a corridor with lawyer Alan Deakin.

Foyle: What's your role here?

Deakin: I'm an observer, here to ensure that everything's fair and square. How about you? Last time we met, you were a police officer, or pretending to be. What is it now?

Foyle: D'you know, I'm not at all sure? So you knew William Knowles.

Deakin: Yes, of course. He was a translator here, quite close to some of the prisoners. Too close, if you ask me. You look worn out. Would you like coffee?

He points to a room on their left.

Foyle: I wouldn't say no. Thank you.

Break room. Deakin pours Foyle a cup of coffee.

Deakin: We're like a family here. Lawyers, translators, typists, screeners, secretaries, doctors and psychologists. In the end, we all sort of muck in together.

He hands Foyle the cup of coffee.

Foyle: Thank you.

Deakin: We're not dealing with n*zi bigwigs any more. Now it's Germany's industrialists. There's a view that some of them should be tried for their part in the w*r.

Foyle: Is that your view?

Deakin: Oh, I don't have a view, Mr Foyle. Studied neutrality, that's my watchword.

Foyle: And, er, how many prisoners are there?

Deakin: There's twelve of them down there at the moment. Of course, they don't see things our way. They don't think the w*r or politics was anything to do with them. For them, it was just business.

Foyle: Knowles was too friendly, you say?

Deakin: That was my observation.

Foyle: With anyone in particular?

Deakin: Herman Linz. He doesn't really need a translator, speaks pretty good English. Works for IG Farben. Well, they all do.

Foyle: Possible to see him?

Deakin: He was put in the hospital wing a couple of nights ago. He had some sort of an attack in the early part of the evening, but he should be in his cell by now. I'll take you down there.

Cell block. A set of keys exchange hands. Someone approaches Linz's cell and unlocks it. He's sitting at the desk, looking at a photograph of himself with a woman. He turns as the door opens, but there's no one in the doorway. He gets up and goes to the door to look out.

Foyle (voiceover): Apart from Knowles...

He and Deakin walk through another hallway.

Foyle: ...does Linz have contact with anyone else outside?

They head down a staircase.

Deakin: Er, his lawyer. Erm, and they're allowed one letter a week. No parcels. Every aspect of life is strictly regulated here.

Foyle: Mm-hmm.

Deakin: Showers once a week, 30 minutes' exercise, even the way they sleep.

Cell. A man in a military uniform leaves Linz's cell and locks the door.

Cell block. Deakin and Foyle follow one of the GI guards towards the cells.

Deakin: They can't face away from the door. We keep a light on them all bloody night. Here, this is him.

Their escort unlocks the door.

GI: Looks like he's asleep, sir.

Deakin: Herr Linz, I have a visitor for you.

Linz is visible through the observation, seated slumped with his back to the door. As the GI unlocks it, it's visible that Linz is dead, his front soaked in blood. There's a pool of it on the floor at his feet. As the GI taps him on the shoulder, he slumps forward.

GI: Ah, Jeez!

He runs out of the door to shout.

GI: Daley! Open the gates!

An alarm bell begins to ring. Foyle studies the scene. The m*rder w*apon, a small blade, lies in the pool of blood. Deakin follows him in, staring. Foyle sees that Linz is lying dead atop a newspaper article about Knowles being found dead in London.

MI5 building. A lift opens and Pierce strides out.

Man: Morning, ma'am.

Pierce: Oh, morning.

She hurries on to where Sir Alec is standing reading a document at his secretary's desk.

Pierce: Sir, Linz is dead.

Sir Alec: Linz?

Pierce heads into his office and he follows her in.

Sir Alec: Do I know that name?

Pierce: Well, you ought to. William Knowles was his translator at Nuremberg.

She lays a report on his desk. He groans.

Sir Alec: Bloody Nuremberg. We do not need these industrialists in jail, we need them out and rebuilding their economy.

Pierce: It's an extraordinary breach of security.

Sir Alec: I have nothing to do with security at Nuremberg.

Pierce: No, but you have a great deal to do with Clayton Del Mar.

Sir Alec: I hope you're not suggesting what I think you're suggesting, Miss Pierce.

Pierce: I'm just saying if there was a link between them, it's quite a coincidence.

Sir Alec: Is that what Foyle believes?

Pierce: Foyle's still in Nuremberg.

Sir Alec: Well, bring him home. If this man Linz is dead, there's no reason for him to stay.

Pierce: Sir, I know that Del Mar is important to us, but just how far will we go to protect him?

She leaves.

Del Mar house. A phone rings in the den. Clayton goes to pick it up.

Clayton: Yes? Understood.

He puts the phone back down.

Wainwright house. Adam is painting a cot when he hears the sound of the door.

Adam: Sam?

He goes out into the hall, but sees it was just a newspaper delivery.

Del Mar house. Sam shuts herself into the porch, then picks up the phone and dials. She keeps an eye out through the windows in the glass door as she picks it up.

Sam: Mr Valentine.

She hears someone coming and quickly lowers the phone, pretending to be adjusting her hat, before raising it to her ear again.

Nuremberg. Deakin is talking with the doctor in a hallway.

Doctor: I judged he was fit to be returned to his cell.

Deakin nods and the two of them head off in opposite directions.

Typing pool. Foyle sits at one of the empty desks with the bloodstained newspaper. Deakin approaches him.

Deakin: I cannot imagine how this could've happened. su1c1de should be impossible here. Er, the prisoners are searched from head to toe every time they return to their cells. It's- it, it shouldn't have happened.

Foyle: I can see that.

Deakin: This isn't about retribution, Foyle, it is about justice. The IG Farben factory at Monowitz was built using labour from the Auschwitz camps, and the Reich's w*r machine urgently needed the synthetic rubber and the oils which the factory produced. Thousands of people died in that process in the most appalling conditions. Linz worked as a manager at that factory and he must have known what was happening. The world needs to know what these men did.

Foyle nods. He places the newspaper in front of Deakin.

Foyle: He had some kind of seizure you say, is that right?

Deakin: Er, yes.

Foyle: Then this is a coincidence is it, that this report of William Knowles' death is on the table in front of him as he dies? Where would he get this?

Deakin: Erm, well, they are allowed newspapers. It's pretty rare to get one from London. Erm, do you think that was enough to...? He was very upset. In fact, he was nearly hysterical.

Flashback. A GI leads Deakin through the cell block. Linz can be heard shouting in the distance.

GI: I don't know, sir, he was reading a newspaper. All of a sudden, he starts shouting and banging at the door.

Linz's cell. The doctor and two of the guards restrain him as he shouts.

Linz: Let me go!

Doctor: It's all right. Stay calm.

Linz: Du verstehst nicht!

Doctor: Please.

Linz drops back into his chair as the doctor guides him down.

Deakin arrives.

Deakin: What is it? What's going on?

Linz: Deakin, you have to help me. You have to protect me. Hören Sie zu, bitte.

He grabs the front of Deakin's jacket.

Linz: In my office. Der Hollander, dahinter.

He mutters something indistinct in German. His view of Deakin is beginning to blur and wobble.

Linz: You have- you have to get it for me.

He collapses to the floor.

Deakin: What have you done to him?

Doctor: I just gave him a sedative.

Foyle (voiceover): What was he saying?

Cut back to the present.

Foyle: Remember anything he said?

Deakin: He was going in and out of German. He said something about someone at his office. "Der Hollander", the Dutchman.

Foyle: Do we know any Dutchmen?

Deakin: "The Dutchman was behind it." He, he wanted me to find something in his office. Er...

Foyle: Where's his office?

Deakin: It was at the factory at Monowitz. Erm, he didn't get away in time and they arrested him there. Perhaps that's what he meant.

Foyle: Can we go to the office?

Deakin: Well, it wouldn't be easy. Er, it's through the Soviet zone and it's a hell of a hike. We'd need to fix the permits, but I suppose it could be done. Erm, I thought your people wanted you back?

Foyle: Yeah. They can wait.

He picks up a cup of coffee from the desk and takes a drink.

Del Mar house, night. Sam lets herself out of the door and hurries across the grounds.

Andrew Del Mar's bedroom. There's a knock on the door and Clayton enters.

Clayton: Gonna be leaving in a few days, Pop. You gonna be all right?

Andrew: You think I can't manage without you?

Clayton: That's not what I said.

Andrew: You think you're ready, don't you? Think you can run this company without me.

Clayton: I hate talking to you when you're like this.

Andrew: Did you k*ll Williams Knowles?

Clayton, about to leave, steps back in and closes the door.

Clayton: Who told you about that?

Andrew: I know everything that happens in this house. Just answer me.

Clayton: I dealt with him.

Andrew: It was stupid.

Clayton: What else could I do? I was trying to clear up the mess you had made.

Andrew: Mess?

Clayton: You know what I mean.

Andrew: I founded this company. I made this the second-largest petroleum corporation in the world. What I did, I did to protect its interests.

Clayton: You backed the wrong horse, Papa, the Germans lost the w*r.

Andrew: I backed all the horses, Clayton, that's what brought us through. And now I have to sit here and watch it being lost to a boy who can't even choose his own tie.

He starts to cough.

Clayton: You read your book, Papa. Where's that new girl?

Andrew: I don't trust her.

Clayton: What?

Andrew: One reply to your advertisement, Clayton? One reply? Doesn't that tell you something?

Clayton: You're crazy.

He leaves. Still coughing, Andrew reaches for his oxygen mask.

Outside. Sam joins Valentine outside the gates.

Sam: I'm afraid I haven't got anything much to report yet.

Valentine: Doesn't matter. We just want to know you're safe.

Sam: Well, I don't know about that. The house is a fortress. There's a high wall around the grounds and a permanent sentry at the front gate. The father is creepy and Mr Del Mar's a little bit mad.

Valentine: Have you heard anything?

Sam: Clayton Del Mar's off to Tehran in three days. That's Iran, isn't it?

Valentine: Yes. Do you know why he's going?

Sam: He didn't say. I don't know what else I should be looking for.

Valentine: We think there might be a photograph in the house. Group of men, possibly with Himmler, taken in 1939. It would tie in Clayton Del Mar with William Knowles.

Sam: I suppose I could take a quick snoop in the study.

Valentine: Quick as you can, before he leaves. If you need any help, put something in the window at the front, where we can see it.

Sam: Like what? My hat?

Valentine: Yeah, that'll do. But only if you're in trouble. We'll be right there.

Sam: Right.

She heads back towards the house and Valentine turns away.

Del Mar house. Sam walks in through the open door, greeting the man waiting in the porch.

Sam: Hello, George.

She stops as she sees Clayton's waiting as well.

Clayton: Miss Stewart, where have you been?

Sam: I was just getting some air.

Clayton: My father's been waiting for you.

Sam: Right. I'll go right up, Mr Del Mar.

Clayton turns to George.

Clayton: Keep an eye on her, okay?

George nods and closes the front door.

Adam's office. He's speaking on the phone.

Adam: Yes, Samantha Wainwright. Please ask her to contact me as soon as she can. Thank you. Goodbye.

He puts the phone down.

Back street. Valentine stands in the doorway smoking. Viktor comes round the corner and speaks to him in Russian.

Viktor (subtitled): This is the last time I am coming. There is nothing more I can tell you.

Valentine steps towards him.

Valentine: (subtitled): Wait a minute...

Viktor (subtitled): No. You do not understand. They know. It's too dangerous. Leave me alone.

He starts to walk away and Valentine follows for a few steps before giving up and heading the other way. As Viktor rounds the corner, he finds Leskov waiting for him.

Leskov (subtitled): Viktor. Tell me about your meetings.

Viktor (subtitled): Comrade Leskov, let me explain...

IG Farben factory, Monowitz.

CAPTION: MONOWITZ CONCENTRATION CAMP, POLAND.

A car drives up and parks in front of a barbed-wire fence near the factory building. Foyle and Deakin get out.

Deakin: This is the factory. Auschwitz is six miles away. So, by the time the inmates had marched all the way over here, they were too exhausted to work.

He points through the fence.

Deakin: So they built this place... for convenience.

He and Foyle stand looking at the camp buildings.

Deakin: Monowitz. They paid the SS four Reichsmarks a day for skilled labourers, three for unskilled. There were children too. They were filthy, they were starving, they were covered with lice, vermin. When they couldn't work any more, they were sh*t. 10,000 had died by the time I came here. I spoke to some of the survivors. You have no idea.

They turn away and start to walk towards the factory.

Factory. Deakin and Foyle are walking through the grounds.

Deakin: Every day, reports were sent from Monowitz to the head office at Frankfurt. They knew. They knew perfectly well how the chemicals were being produced, but they didn't care. It was necessary, it was good for business. IG Farben built the planes, they made the b*mb, they made the furnaces, and the Zyklon-B crystals that were used in the gas chambers.

He points at a set of crates.

Deakin: Without them, h*tler would never have got off the starting blocks. And Linz was one of them. His office is this way.

Inside. Deakin leads the way up a staircase.

Deakin: I have a feeling we're wasting our time. The n*zi were fanatical record keepers. They, they burnt everything when they realised the Allies were on their way, and we grabbed the rest.

They enter a room at the top of the stairs.

Foyle: So this is the office.

The room has mostly been stripped apart from a few items of furniture and some empty file folders scattered around.

Deakin: This is it.

Foyle looks around.

Foyle: Yeah. Well, he sent you here for a reason. Obviously wanted you to find something that he thought would...

He opens a metal cabinet.

Foyle: Help him? Save him?

Deakin: Save him? He committed su1c1de.

Foyle: Did he? He was k*ll. As was Knowles, as a result of whatever Linz had asked him, told him to do. Otherwise, why did he come to England?

There are a couple of theatre posters on the walls. Foyle notices a framed poster for a production of Der Fliegende Holländer, hung slightly askew.

Foyle: Dutchman. What did he say?

Deakin: He said a Dutchman was behind it.

Foyle: The Flying Dutchman? There's a Dutchman behind it? Or is it behind the Dutchman?

Deakin goes over and takes the frame off the wall. The wall behind it is blank.

Deakin: Nothing.

He sets it down and removes the picture next to it.

Deakin: No secret compartment.

Foyle picks up the framed poster and removes the backing. Inside is a file folder.

Foyle: Right. Well.

He opens it. There's some paperwork, as well as a photo of Linz and another man standing in front of a set of barrels.

Foyle: Is that Linz?

Deakin: That's him.

Foyle: Who's the other?

Deakin: No idea.

Foyle: How's your German?

Deakin: I can get by.

Foyle: Schiff. Boat, correct?

Deakin: Uh-huh.

Foyle: Die...

He shows Deakin a form with a typed list.

Deakin: Prämie. Bounty. It's a shipping order.

Foyle pulls out another document, a brief letter.

Foyle: Some English. The Eleanor Lee. Another boat?

Deakin: Mm-hmm.

Foyle: Could be.

Seafront. Valentine approaches the water and shows his ID to a uniformed policeman.

Policeman: All right, sir.

Valentine approaches two more policeman, standing by a body that's been hauled from the water. He sighs.

Valentine: Viktor.

MI5 building, Foyle's office. Foyle studies another photo of Linz with a magnifying glass, looking at the barrels. One is marked TETRAETHYL-something, another has the word "Castle". He sets the a magnifying glass down and looks at a textbook entry on Tetraethyl Lead. There's a knock at the door and Patricia steps in with a file folder.

Patricia: The Eleanor Lee.

Foyle: Yes?

Patricia: She was an American merchantman on her way to New York via Tenerife. This is a copy of the manifest.

She hands him a sheet of paper.

Patricia: Basically, we were selling everything we could for the w*r effort.

Foyle: Including 2,000 gallons of whisky?

Patricia: Wasted on the Americans, if you ask me. There was an attempted robbery to steal it the night she sailed. Er, two local lads. Oh, one of them died inexplicably quite soon afterwards. The other one is still alive. Lives in a caravan on the Southampton Docks. This is as close as we've got.

Foyle: Very good.

Patricia: But you might like to know that the ship was owned by-

Foyle: Global American Oil?

Patricia: Yes.

Foyle: Well done. Thank you.

She leaves.

Del Mar house. Grant accompanies Clayton out to the car.

Clayton: You stay here, Grant.

Grant: Yes, sir.

Inside. Sam comes down the stairs. A vacuum cleaner is running. There's a knock on a door.

Edith (offscreen): Clayton? Where's Mr Del Mar?

Mildred (offscreen): I'm afraid you just missed him, milady.

Edith: Oh.

Edith walks into the sitting room as Sam reaches the bottom of the stairs.

Edith: Fine. Mildred, have you cleaned the grate in Mr Andrew's room?

Sam approaches the half-open door.

Mildred (offscreen): Oh, yes, of course. I'm so sorry, I... I'll do it at once.

Edith (offscreen): Well, I'll come with you. I wonder if we need to get that chimney swept.

Sam watches from the doorway as Edith walks through into another room.

Edith (offscreen): He suffers so much with the dust.

Sam slips in through the door. A moment later Grant steps up into the doorway. He watches as she heads through the room and into the study.

Study. Sam starts going through the desk drawers.

Hallway. Grant steps through the doorway into the sitting room.

Study. Sam r*fles through another drawer. She finds the photograph and pulls it out to look at.

Grant (offscreen): What are you doing in here?

Sam straightens up, clearing her throat, and hides the photo down by her side.

Sam: I was just looking for Mr Del Mar.

Grant: He's clearly not here.

Sam: Well, he was a minute ago, I heard him.

Grant: What do you want him for?

Sam: I need to buy some more books for Mr Del Mar Senior.

Grant: I'll tell him you were here.

Sam: Thank you.

She slips the photo into her pocket as she walks out past him.

Hallway. As George heads through a doorway to the left, Sam goes out into the porch, shutting the door behind her. She tries the front door, but finds that it's locked. She comes back out into the hall just as George returns. She makes her way back upstairs to her room and grabs her hat, wedging it into the window frame.

Southampton. Foyle walks along the docks towards Albert Morton's caravan. Albert walks over to meet him.

Later. The two of them stand side by side looking out to see.

Albert: It was just a lark, really. That was all. 40 barrels of malt whisky. D'you know what that would've been worth?

They turn and start walking along together.

Foyle: How did you even know it was there?

Albert: Friend of a friend. We were gonna nick it. Not all of it, just a couple of jerrycans, that was it. Johnny didn't even wanna be there. He always did what I said. Poor sod.

Foyle: Tell me what happened.

Albert: We managed to get onto the boat.

Flashback to the night of the attempted robbery.

Albert (voiceover): Guards, soldiers.

Albert: Let's go.

The two brothers run towards the boat.

Albert (voiceover): They were useless. We snuck down to hold number three.

Albert: This is it. Go on.

Albert (voiceover): That's where we knew we'd find it.

Albert touches a barrel.

Albert: This is the one. Here, go on.

He feeds a tube into the top of the barrel.

Albert (voiceover): We were gonna suck the whisky out. A vacuum. We did the same thing when we were half-inching petrol from cars.

Albert: (Here, do it.)

He hands the other end of the tube to John, who starts sucking on it to draw the contents out.

Albert (voiceover): But then it all went wrong.

John gags and starts to cough and splutter.

Albert: (Shut up! John, what's wrong?)

Albert (voiceover): It was like he'd been punched in the throat.

John coughs.

Albert (voiceover): He couldn't breathe.

Man (offscreen): Hey!

Albert (voiceover): They heard us.

Man (offscreen): Who are you?

Albert (voiceover): So I grabbed him and we scrammed.

A group of men run after them.

Man: Hey! Get back here!

Caravan. Foyle sits listening to Albert's tale.

Albert: John was as sick as a dog that night. I thought he was going to die. But, the next day, he seemed a bit better. A few days after that, he was back on his feet.

Foyle: Then what?

Albert: We got nicked. Bogeys know who we were and we got picked up. Both given a birching. We were lucky it weren't Borstal. Johnny was never really the same after that. He'd have these fits. And then, one day, he just died. But I'll tell you something. Whatever was in those barrels, it weren't bloody whisky.

Mortuary. Foyle is talking with the pathologist from before.

Foyle: Tetraethyl lead?

Pathologist: Yes, quite possibly. The sickness, memory loss, fits of anger, convulsions, death. You said the ship was owned by, um, who was it?

Foyle: Global American Oil.

Pathologist: And this young man sucked the liquid from out of a barrel?

Foyle: Assuming it was whisky, that's right.

Pathologist: It would've been absolutely frightful. How very sad.

Foyle: Tetraethyl lead, er, is a fuel additive, is that right?

Pathologist: Well, whatever it is, it's deadly stuff.

Del Mar house, night. Clayton heads into the study, followed by Grant.

Clayton: She was behind my desk?

Grant: That's right. She said she was looking for you, but I didn't believe her. I have to say, I had my doubts about her from the start.

Clayton: Well, that's very perceptive of you, Grant. So what did she want?

He checks the desk.

Clayton: his drawer is open.

She pulls it out and r*fles through, then sighs.

Clayton: She's taken the photograph.

Grant: You kept it?

Clayton: You watch your place, Grant. The doors are all locked?

Grant: Yes, sir.

Clayton: She can't get out. Let's find her.

Staircase. Clayton heads up the stairs and into his father's room.

Clayton: Have you seen her?

Andrew: Who?

Clayton: You know, Pop, the girl.

Andrew: Oh, cottoned on to her at last, have you? You took your time.

Clayton: Yeah, Papa, you were right. You're always g*dd*mn right.

Andrew: You can't manage without me, Clayton, that's your problem.

Staircase. Sam hurries down the stairs past the door while the two of them are arguing.

Andrew's bedroom.

Clayton: Without me, you'd just lie there and rot.

He turns and leaves, heading on up to the floor above.

Back stairs. Sam makes her way down the spiral staircase.

Clayton (offscreen): Grant!

As Sam arrives at the bottom, she sees Edith talking with Mildred in front of the back door

Edith: And you must be able to be finished by ten.

Mildred: Yes, all right.

Edith: Thank you.

Mildred: Ma'am.

She leaves.

Edith: Hello.

Sam: Hello.

Edith: Are you looking for something?

Sam: Actually, I'm trying to get out.

Clayton (offscreen): Grant, where are you?

Edith: The doors are all locked.

Clayton (offscreen): Well?

Edith: Clayton has the keys. I can call him if you like.

Sam: No! Don't you have any of the keys? To that one?

She gestures to the back door.

Edith: Are you in trouble?

Sam: Yes. I think I am.

Clayton (offscreen): Have you checked the back stairs? Well, check again!

There's the sound of approaching footsteps. Edith reaches for a set of keys on an upper shelf and gives them to Sam.

Sam: Thank you.

She goes over to the door to let herself out.

Sam: Oh.

Edith turns and begins tidying the shelves. As Sam gets the door open and runs out, Grant comes on.

Grant: Where is she?

Edith: Who?

Grant heads for the open door.

Outside. Sam walks through into a cluttered storage area

Clayton (offscreen): Check the rooms out the back!

Man (offscreen): She's not in there!

Sam: Oh...

She hurries off to one side and flattens herself against the wall as Grant comes through after her. He walks on past.

Grant: Miss Stewart? You can't get out.

After a look around he turns and goes back in. Sam lets out a breath and then moves on. As she runs round to the outer door, Grant comes back out.

Grant: Miss Stewart?

Clayton (offscreen): Grant!

Sam opens the door and runs out into the grounds. Grant follows. As she runs across the grass, he follows at a walk. She reaches the front gates and grabs the padlock to unlock it.

Grant: Mr Del Mar wants to see you, Miss Stewart.

Sam: Well, I'm afraid he can't, I'm leaving.

Grant: Afraid not.

He draws a g*n and aims it at her. Sam looks up, panting, but keeps trying to unlock the padlock.

Grant: Come away from the gate, get inside.

Sam: Nope!

There's the sound of another g*n being cocked. Valentine steps up presses a p*stol against Grant's neck.

Valentine: Actually, Miss Stewart is coming with me.

He lowers Grant's g*n arm with his other hand.

Sam: Oh.

As Clayton comes out of the house behind them, Valentine walks round Grant and backs over to join Sam, keeping the g*n trained on him.

Valentine: Well done. Open the gate.

Sam gets it unlocked and pushes it open.

Sam: Got it. How'd you get in?

Valentine: Piece of cake.

Sam: Oh.

As the two of them make their escape, Grant heads back towards Clayton, who stands watching them go.

Daylight. The phone box outside the gates of the Del Mar property rings. Leskov checks his watch, then enters and picks up the phone, answering in Russian.

Leskov (subtitled): Yes?

Man on Phone (subtitled): Who is this?

Leskov (subtitled): Leskov here.

Man on Phone (subtitled): What is happening?

Leskov (subtitled): The Shah has agreed to meet him.

He turns to look at the house as two policemen escort Grant out of the front door.

Man on Phone (subtitled): Impossible. You know what to do.

Leskov (subtitled): Del Mar definitely leaves today.

Man on Phone (subtitled): Do it!

Leskov (subtitled): Very well. I will see to it.

He goes to hang up the phone.

A police car drives away from the grounds as Leskov comes out of the phone box. He looks towards the Del Mar house, then turns and walks the other way.

Street outside the Wainwright. Adam is walking home.

Wainwright house. Sam sits in an armchair in the sitting room, putting her wedding and engagement rings back on. The front door opens.

Adam (offscreen): Sam?

He walks into the sitting room.

Adam: Sam, I'm so glad to see you and I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.

Sam: So am I.

Adam: That woman who was here, she was absolutely nothing to me. She was a constituent and I should never have let her in.

Sam: I shouldn't have stormed out.

Adam: Well, I've been beastly to you. Will you forgive me?

Sam: Of course I'll forgive you. Will you forgive me?

Adam: What for?

She stands up.

Sam: Well, you were right, I...

She sighs.

Sam: I put myself in danger and I had absolutely no right to do that. The baby's too important. I'll tell Mr Foyle I have to give up work at once.

Adam: No. I was wrong. I've been completely two-faced. On the one hand, I was defending the right of a woman I've never met to work in a wireless factory. And, on the other, I was... putting pressure on you to do something against your wishes. I know how much your work means to you. You shouldn't have to stop.

Sam: Well, I'm gonna have to, eventually.

Adam: In your own time.

Sam: I'm glad I married you, Mr Wainwright.

Adam: Not as glad as I am that I married you.

She laughs and they embrace.

Del Mar house. Edith walks through into Clayton's study as he sorts through documents.

Clayton: I'm leaving for the airport now. You'll have to look after Pop.

Edith: Why can't I come with you?

Clayton: 'Cause you can't, there's no question of it. You shouldn't have given that key to that woman, Edith. When I get back, we'll talk about it.

He walks away.

MI5 building.

Sir Alec (voiceover): So a photograph of Andrew Del Mar...

He's holding the photograph, which shows Andrew Del Mar and two other men in suits standing with Himmler.

Sir Alec: ...from some archive is at his house. That proves nothing. And what exactly was Mrs Wainwright doing at Clayton Del Mar's house?

Pierce, Foyle and Valentine are all gathered in his office.

Foyle: Reading.

Sir Alec: She was unauthorised. She was spying on Del Mar and could have disrupted a hugely sensitive operation.

Valentine: But she brought in that photograph, which directly links Del Mar in with William Knowles. It-, it's evidence that he had good reason to have Knowles m*rder.

Sir Alec: Well, we can't touch Del Mar, he's too important to us.

Foyle: And I understand why. You want Iranian oil, and you need him to negotiate.

Sir Alec: We have to counter the Soviet presence in the Middle East. It is not just about oil. It is about British influence in the entire region.

Pierce: Del Mar can get an audience with the Shah and we can't.

Sir Alec: We have nothing on Clayton Del Mar.

Foyle: I disagree. Er, during the w*r, the Del Mars not only supported h*tler, they actively contributed to the n*zi w*r effort. In 1942, one of Del Mar's ships left Southampton with 2,000 gallons of whisky bound for America. The barrels, however, didn't contain whisky at all. The whisky had been replaced with tetraethyl lead. Tetraethyl lead is an aviation fuel additive. Neither did the barrels ever reach America. They were unloaded at a stopover in Tenerife and reloaded onto a German vessel bound for Hamburg, where they were gratefully received by the Luftwaffe. What beggars belief is that this tetraethyl lead, without which the Luftwaffe couldn't fly, was manufactured in Britain by a subsidiary company of Global American, enabling the Luftwaffe to fly straight to Britain to decimate London and the rest of the country.

Pierce: Have you got any proof of this?

Foyle holds up a file folder, and walks over to set it on the table in front of Pierce.

Foyle: This is the shipping order and details of the cargo being separated at Tenerife. Tetraethyl lead is listed as alcoholic spirits.

Sir Alec: Where did you get these?

Foyle: These were hidden in the office of the IG Farben employee who oversaw the shipment, Herman Linz. When he found himself on trial in Nuremberg, facing a probable death sentence along with other IG Farben employees, he thought this information would be sufficient to blackmail Del Mar into using his influence to get him released.

Pierce: So he sent William Knowles back to London to put pressure on Del Mar?

Foyle: Yes. William Knowles was bribed.

Sir Alec: With what?

Foyle: I don't know.

Valentine: In the end, it doesn't matter. Del Mar had him k*ll.

Foyle: He also arranged for Linz to die in his cell. I wonder how he did that.

He turns to look at Sir Alec.

Clayton (voiceover): I'll be back in a week.

He stands in front of his father's bed.

Andrew: You can't come back.

Clayton: Is that what you think? They still need me, Pop, just like you do. I do this deal for them, I'm home free. And, you know, when I get back, maybe I'm gonna change things around this house. Maybe I'm getting tired of having you on my back all the time. You think about that.

He walks out.

Andrew: Clayton!

Sir Alec's office.

Foyle: And this is the man you're happy to have negotiate British interests in the Middle East?

Sir Alec: Where's Del Mar now?

Pierce: He's flying to Tehran later today.

Sir Alec: Have you any idea how much it may cost us if this meeting does not go ahead?

Foyle: Well, it's your decision.

Sir Alec hesitates for a few brief seconds.

Sir Alec: Bring him in.

Foyle and Valentine turn to leave.

Del Mar house. A taxi arrives at the gates. Leskov is approaching along the street as the taxi driver gets out and rings the bell.

MI5 building. Valentine and Foyle walk through the corridors together.

Valentine: Something else you should know. My Soviet Embassy contact's dead.

Foyle stops walking.

Foyle: How?

Valentine: NKVD. Looks like we're not the only ones after Del Mar.

They walk on around the corner.

Del Mar house. A member of staff holds the gate open for the taxi to drive in.

MI5 building. Valentine and Foyle leave the building and head down the steps towards a waiting car.

Del Mar house. The taxi turns around in the ground and parks in the gateway ready to leave.

MI5 building. Foyle gets into the passenger seat of the car and Valentine drives away.

Del Mar house. Clayton comes out into the hallway where George is just about to pick up a briefcase and suitcase.

Clayton: No, I'll take those. You look after Mrs Del Mar.

He looks over at Edith standing across the hall as George opens the porch door for him. Clayton picks up the cases and walks out of the house. He whistles.

Clayton: Driver!

MI5 building. Valentine and Foyle drive around the corner of the building.

Del Mar house. Clayton walks across the grounds to the taxi.

Clayton: Bags?

Leskov, standing by the car facing away from him and wearing the taxi driver's cap, doesn't react.

Clayton sighs and puts his bags down on the ground.

Clayton: Could've parked a little closer.

As he goes round to get into the car, Leskov s*ab him in the back. Clayton groans and slumps to the ground. Leskov pulls the knife back out.

Andrew's bedroom. He struggles out of bed, clutching at his chest, and moves to the window.

Outside, Leskov gets into the car. He takes the cap off and places it on the head of the taxi driver, slumped dead in the passenger seat.

Andrew watches helplessly from the window as Leskov drives away, leaving Clayton lying in a pool of blood.

Street. Valentine and Foyle turn the corner towards Carlyle Gardens.

Del Mar house. Andrew watches from the window as their car drives in through the open gate. They get out and Valentine jogs over to check Clayton's body for a pulse.

Valentine: Looks like we're just a little bit too late.

Foyle looks up at Andrew Del Mar in the window.

Kathleen Crescent. Elizabeth Addis stands waiting by a car.

Inside number 11. Hilary Knowles leads Foyle into the sitting room. He sees a pair of suitcases sitting by the door.

Foyle: You're off, then?

Hilary: Yes.

Foyle: With your new passport?

Hilary: William wrote to me. He told me to get it.

Foyle: Anywhere nice?

She doesn't answer.

Foyle: Very easy to find out.

Hilary: America. There's a new machine. It's called a dialyser. It can save my life.

Foyle: Expensive.

Hilary: Yes.

Foyle: What did your husband bring back?

She drops into a chair and sighs. She picks up a small medicine pot from the table, and opens it to reveal a handful of diamonds.

Hilary: I can sell them in New York. They'll pay for my treatment.

Foyle: You probably know where these came from.

Hilary: Yes.

Foyle: And that would be where?

Hilary: Monowitz.

Foyle: And you'd understand they don't belong to you.

Hilary: But if you take them from me... I will die.

Outside. Foyle walks back to the car where Addis is waiting.

Addis: Will she be all right?

Foyle: She'll be fine.

They both get into the car.

Foyle: Thank you for coming.

Addis: What was it?

Foyle: Diamonds.

Addis: Did you let her keep them?

Foyle: What would you have done?

He starts the car and they drive away.
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