St Jude's church. Henry Scott sits alone in the empty pews, holding a rosary as he whispers the Hail Mary prayer to himself.
Later. Henry is in the confessional with Father Martin Keppler.
Henry: Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.
Keppler: How long since your last confession?
Henry: Two weeks.
Keppler: Tell me your sins.
Henry: I... have broken the Sixth Commandment.
Keppler: Thou shalt not k*ll?
Henry: I have k*lled. I have committed m*rder.
A Pathe Gazette news film titled Great US Air as*ault, showing footage of aeroplanes.
Newsreader: It's certainly chocks away-
Henry sits in the cinema, wringing his hands as he watches the film.
Newsreader: As American bombers leave Britain on one of their longest missions yet. More than 1,500 aircraft have been waiting for the weather to turn. It did, and off they went. Their targets, aircraft factories at in Marienberg in East Prussia and Posen in Poland.
Henry watches the footage of bombs falling.
Newsreader: A round trip of 1,600 miles. With German losses mounting, the message is clear - unconditional surrender. And there's just one question. How much more can h*tler take?
A motorbike carrying a pair of document tubes speeds along a country road through trees.
CAPTION: APRIL 1944
Beverley Lodge. WAAF Jane Hudson hurries down the staircase, rushing past several other people.
Jane: Excuse me. Sorry. Sorry.
Guard post. The dispatch rider pulls up on his motorbike.
Guard: Hello, there. Can I see your papers?
Photo-processing room. Jane dashes into the room.
Jane: Adam. Where is it?
Adam Everitt is working at a drawing board.
Adam: Keep your hair on, old girl. We've got plenty of time.
Jane: The wing commander asked for it half an hour ago. Bomber Command are already here!
Adam: Well, they can wait.
Jane: Adam!
Across the room, Henry Scott, now in a RAF uniform heads over to the door. He looks over as Jane snatches a document from Adam.
Adam: There it is.
Jane: Where's Henry?
Behind them, Henry leaves the room.
Adam: Who can say?
He watches Jane leave.
Adam: Anyone would think there was a w*r on.
Outside. The dispatch rider pulls up in front of the building. Henry watches from a ground-floor window as the rider heads inside with his document tubes.
Inside. A man holds the door for the rider behind him.
Dispatch Rider: Ta.
Wing Commander Stephen Forster's office. Forster is on the phone.
Forster: I'm sorry, sir, but you'll just have to bear with us a moment longer.
There's a knock on the door and he turns.
Forster: Come.
Jane hurries in with an envelope marked Top Secret.
Forster: Is that it?
Jane: Yes, sir.
He speaks into the phone.
Forster: We've got it. It's on its way now. Right.
He hangs up.
Forster: Well, where was it?
Jane: Everitt had it, sir.
Forster: Everitt! Not again! Well, don't just stand there, take it to the dispatch rider.
Jane: Yes, sir.
She walks out through the building. As she reaches the doors where the dispatch rider is waiting, Henry hurries up to her.
Henry: Jane...
Jane: Just a moment.
She gives the envelope to the rider.
Jane: Here it is.
Dispatch Rider: Thank you.
Henry turns away and walks off. Jane looks after him.
Jane: Henry?
Victoria Hammond's boarding house, night.
Hammond (voiceover): Mr Scott, you've left your supper.
Inside. Landlady Victoria Hammond heads up the staircase.
Hammond: Mr Scott?
She sighs and goes up to knock on his bedroom door.
Hammond: Mr Scott?
Inside. A glass of water sits on the nightstand with a number of pills tipped out in front of it.
Hammond (offscreen): Mr Scott? Mr Scott? Henry? Henry?
Henry lies on the bed, still in his uniform.
Flashback to the falling bombs in the news footage.
Bedroom. Though he lies unmoving, it's visible that Henry is still breathing.
OPENING CREDITS
Police station. DCS John Meredith walks into the station, where Sergeant Brooke is on duty at the front desk.
Brooke (offscreen): Morning, sir.
Meredith: Morning, sergeant. Is Milner in yet?
Brooke: Yeah. He got here an hour ago, sir. He's in the interrogation room. You know he got Burton?
Meredith: Burton?
Brooke: Bill Burton. The lorries man.
Meredith: Oh, yeah. Very good. Er, tell Milner I want to have a word.
Brooke: Yes, sir.
Meredith's office, the room that used to be Foyle's. Meredith stands looking a photo on the mantelpiece of two young men in uniform. Then he goes over to sit down at his desk, where there's another photo of them with his wife. He looks at it a moment, then takes a document from the in-tray.
Front desk. Brooke turns as Milner comes through from the back.
Brooke: Milner, the DCS would, er, like a word.
Milner: Thank you.
Brooke: Another of his balls-ups he wants you to sort out.
Milner: I'll pretend I didn't hear that.
He heads back the other way. Brooke turns to another uniformed officer beside him.
Brooke: It was never like this a year ago. Never thought I'd hear myself say it - in the good old days.
Milner walks in to Meredith's office.
Meredith: Brooke tells me you've made an arrest.
Milner: Yes, sir. Bill Burton. We're holding him now. He has a haulage operation. I've been working with the Special Investigations branch of the army. Falsified transport accounts.
Meredith: Someone was paying him?
Milner: About £1,200 in the last year. For lorry trips that were never made.
Meredith: Which barracks?
Milner: Brighton, Eastbourne. That was only last year, so this could go back a lot further.
Meredith: Well, he must have had people on the inside.
Milner: That's what I'm trying to find out.
Meredith: Yes. Well, you'd better get on with it, then.
Milner: Yes, sir.
Foyle house. There's the sound of a typewriter. Foyle sits at the table, dictating slowly.
Foyle: And the amalgamation... was the cause of a lot of local... prickliness. Am I going too fast for you?
Sam is the one doing the typing.
Sam: No, sir. It's, it's, um, it's not me, it's the typewriter.
Foyle: Oh.
Sam: It keeps jamming.
Foyle: Ah. Doesn't when I use it. I mean, if you can do shorthand, why aren't we using your shorthand?
Sam: Well, I can write it. I, I can't read it.
Foyle: Right.
Sam: Is there a Y in "prickliness"?
Foyle: Um... two Is, I think. Mmm.
Sam: Is this going to be a very long book?
Foyle: Well, it looks like it. Are you trying to tell me something?
Sam: No, sir.
Foyle: Are we wasting our time, is that what you're saying?
Sam: No, I'm sure lots of people will be interested in the subject. You might think of a better title, though. "The History of the Hastings Constabulary in the Wartime Years". Doesn't exactly roll off the tongue, does it?
Foyle: Well, it's not intended for the public at large.
Sam: Well, who is it for?
Foyle: Well, there's gonna be a lot of stories about the w*r, and, erm, the police along the south coast are as much a part of that story as any others.
Sam: Absolutely. I agree. Maybe I'll get a mention.
Foyle: Mmm.
Sam: D'you miss police work, sir?
Foyle: Nope.
Sam: Nor do I.
She sighs.
Sam: Right. Once more into the fray.
Foyle: Hastings in 1942...
Police interview room. Milner and Brooke are there with Bill Burton.
Burton: You're making a mistake.
Milner: I don't think so. These bills are forgeries. The registration numbers listed here don't exist.
Burton: You don't understand, Sergeant Milner, I'm saying you're making a mistake.
Milner: Then why don't you help me out, Mr Burton?
Burton: I don't think you know who I am. I have friends. A great many of them. They're not gonna take kindly to all this. They might come calling.
Milner: Are you threatening me?
Burton: Look, I'm in here. Nothing I can do. But I'd, er, I'd watch my step if I was you, that's all.
Milner: You witnessed all that, sergeant?
Brooke: I did, Mr Milner.
Milner: Then you can add obstruction and threatening a police officer to the charge sheet. Let's see what your friends think about that.
He leaves.
Photo-processing room, Beverley Lodge. Henry is comparing an aerial photo to a map held by Richard Waterlow.
Henry: There's a bridge over the river just here.
Waterlow: According to the old maps, the river didn't even run this way.
Henry: The library will have weather charts going back over the last five years. Heavy rain. It may have burst its banks. And I think we should have another look at this here.
Waterlow: Er, looks like a barn.
Henry: Well, if you looked at it under the stereoscope, you'd see that it was too high. There's some sort of installation on the roof, possibly an aerial mast.
Waterlow: Any local intelligence?
Henry: Waterlow! Where did you say you came from again?
Waterlow: The w*r Agricultural Executive Committee.
Henry: They sent you here?
Waterlow: I applied. I wanted to make maps.
Jane (offscreen): Henry?
They both look up. She's standing just inside the door.
Jane: Could I have a word?
He gets up to go with her. Waterlow sits down in Henry's chair and looks at the photos through the stereoscope.
Reception area. The receptionist is just handing a stack of boxes to a man as Jane and Henry come through.
Receptionist: And that's the lot.
Man: Thank you.
He leaves. Jane draws Henry aside.
Jane: I heard you were... ill?
Henry: I was. I'm back.
Jane: I was worried about you.
Henry: Were you? You didn't visit me.
Jane: I didn't think you'd want to see me.
Henry: Right.
Jane: Henry...
She falls silent as a woman walks past.
Jane: Can't we go back to the way things were?
Henry: That's not possible, is it? You see, if you drop a glass, it breaks. You can try and glue it back together, but it will still have cracks.
Jane: I made a mistake. I know that, but what about forgiveness? I thought that was important to us.
Henry: I have forgiven you, Jane. Doesn't make me want to see you.
He leaves.
Adam (offscreen): Oh, dear.
He come down the staircase behind her.
Jane: What are you doing here?
Adam: A summons from the Wing Co. What was all that about?
Jane: It's none of your business.
She goes to walk away and he chases after her.
Adam: But you're going to tell me, anyway.
Jane: No, I'm not.
Adam: Are you doing anything tonight?
Jane: Going to church. Choir practice.
Adam: Oh, of course. Yeah, it's a Tuesday.
Jane: What do you want, Adam?
Adam: You know what I want, Jane. The trouble is, you want it, too.
He leaves.
Forster's office.
Forster: Bomber Command at Laverton aren't happy.
Adam: When were they ever?
Forster: The raid over Marienberg. There were errors on the map.
Adam: There are always errors. We can't help that. Anyway, what does it matter? The raid was a success.
Forster shows him a map.
Forster: This cross-hatching here. That's not woods. There was a railway terminal and two g*n emplacements here. It's as plain as a pikestaff.
Adam: I'm very sorry, sir, it won't happen again.
Forster: It's already happened too often. Your work is slapdash. People are asking why you're still here.
Adam: Are they? We'd neither of us want that, would we?
Forster: Do you understand what's going on out there? This stage of the w*r? Victory depends on getting it right. It's critical and you just... maybe I should just move you to the printing section.
Adam laughs.
Adam: Not for me, thanks all the same. I'll try harder.
He gets up to leave.
Forster: Everitt! I'm still in charge of this unit. I'm your commanding officer.
Adam: Sir.
He salutes and leaves.
St Jude's church. The choir are singing Mozart's Ave Verum Corpus to the accompaniment of the organ.
♪ Esto nobis praegustatum ♪
Jane, Henry and Waterlow are all part of the choir.
♪ In mortis examine ♪
♪ In mor-or-or-or-or-or-ortis examine ♪
Father Martin Keppler conducts them through the final notes.
Keppler: Thank you. I need to hear that last phrase again, please. Particularly sopranos in, in bar 40. I need to hear the C Sharp. So, can we go again from bar 37? Thank you.
The organist plays a note and the choir sings again:
♪ In mor-or-or-or-or-or-ortis examine ♪
Keppler: Thank you. That was very good. Much better. Thank you for your hard work. I will see you all again on Sunday.
Woman: Thank you.
Woman: God bless.
Man: Well, at least Henry's in.
The choir starts to disperse.
Waterlow: Jane! Are you going back?
Jane: Um, not just yet, no.
Waterlow: Well, I'll wait and walk back with you, if you like.
Jane: No, no. Thank you, that's very kind, but, um, I'm waiting for Henry.
Henry is sitting waiting and gets up as Keppler approaches.
Henry: Father, can I talk to you?
Keppler: Of course, Henry, of course. Let us sit.
They sit down.
Keppler: How are you? You are- you're fully recovered?
Henry: Yes.
Keppler: I hope you've not had any further temptation?
Henry: No. It was stupid.
Keppler: No, it was- it was much more than that. But we will not speak of it again. And, er, and your work, are you feeling happy?
Henry: How can I feel happy? With my pens and paint brushes, I'm k*lling people I don't even know.
Keppler: Henry, Henry, you must not see it like that.
Henry: I don't know how you can want me to stay there. You of all people.
Keppler: Why? Because I'm a priest? Or because I am German?
Henry: Both.
Keppler: I want this w*r to be over. I, I want to go home. But that can never happen until h*tler is finished. No. You are using your skills to help bring that day closer.
Henry: They are bombing towns. And villages. They're not going to stop. Unconditional surrender.
Keppler: I know. It is not easy, but, but we must try to see the greater good. The light at the end of the tunnel.
Henry: It's a very long tunnel.
Keppler: Things are, are stepping up?
Henry: More and more raids.
Keppler: Germany? East Prussia?
Henry is silent for a moment.
Henry: I'm not meant to tell you.
Keppler: And I'm not meant to ask. But, you know, I can't help it. For you, it's just a, a diagram on a piece of paper. For me, it's, it's home.
Henry: They want to have a cr*ck at h*tler himself. They think they can hit Berchtesgaden.
Keppler: Well, that would be wonderful! That, that would finish the w*r.
Henry: Yeah, but it is still m*rder.
Keppler sighs.
Keppler: You should come to this conference at Cranville. Bishop Francis Wood will be there. He will be speaking. He, too, like you, believes in moral absolutes, even in w*r. I will see you on Sunday, hmm? Try to be at peace.
Henry: I always feel better, talking to you.
Outside. Jane is waiting as Henry comes out.
Jane: Will you walk me home?
Henry: Why are you doing this?
Jane: We work together. We come here together. We can't pretend we don't know each other.
Waterford comes out of the church behind them. He veers to the side to avoid interrupting them.
Henry: Well, I thought I knew you. But I know Adam Everitt very well. In fact, I know more about him than you do.
Jane: What are you talking about?
Henry: Why don't you ask him about his Uncle Bill and the nice little arrangement that he's got? And I may just start talking about what I know. You can tell him that, too.
The Plume of Feathers pub, night. Milner and Foyle are having beers together at one of the tables.
Milner: Things have been going downhill since you left, if you want the truth, sir. We had a bad year last year. Lost a lot of men to the forces. Three cases still unsolved. You've heard they're closing the station down?
Foyle: I have.
Milner: Morale's at rock bottom. No, maybe it's just the w*r. I know things are going well in Russia, but there doesn't seem to be any end in sight. And then there's DCS Meredith.
Foyle: Ah. Is there?
Milner: I don't understand him, sir.
Foyle: Why might that be?
Milner: Well, you know I'd never speak badly of a superior officer, and I, I do respect him. But he's perhaps the reason I'm thinking of leaving. And I just wondered if there was anything that you could tell me about him that might help?
Foyle: Well, I don't know him. I do know that he was at Reigate for quite a while, that he's well spoken of, gets results, but, er, apart from that, I can't really say.
Milner: Then you think I should stay?
Meredith house. Meredith and his wife Joyce are at the dinner table. They're silent as Meredith finishes his meal.
Meredith: So, what did you do today?
Joyce: I was in the garden.
Meredith: I see the tulips are out.
Joyce: Yes.
Meredith: Earlier, this year.
Joyce: Not especially.
Meredith: Well, they're beautiful.
Joyce: Yes.
Meredith: Are you sure you won't have a drink?
Joyce: Not for me, thank you.
Meredith: We arrested a man today. A chap called Burton. Some scheme with lorries. He's taken £1,200 off the government.
Joyce: I'm sorry, I'm not interested, John. Actually, er, I have a slight headache. Would you mind if I go up?
Meredith: No, you go ahead. I'll clear up.
She leaves and he pours himself another drink.
Plume of Feathers. Foyle and Milner are just leaving the building.
Milner: How's Sam, sir?
Foyle: Oh, she's fine. Erm, her typing's not what it should be, but, er, she's the same as ever.
Milner: And how's the book?
Foyle: Slow.
Milner: Am I in it?
Foyle: Oh, she asked that. Might get a mention in the final chapter. Good night.
He walks away.
Milner: Good night, sir. Thank you.
Foyle: A pleasure.
Milner walks off in a different direction to Foyle. A car engine starts up behind him and it drives towards him. He turns at the sound and has to dive out of the way to avoid being hit.
Foyle house. Sam stands in the front room with Foyle.
Sam: I know it's a bit of a cheek, but, er, d'you remember my Uncle Aubrey?
Foyle: Yeah, the vicar.
Sam: Well, all my uncles are vicars, but that's right. He's coming to Hastings later today and he has a special dispensation to come here. He's coming for the church conference. Anyway, he sent me a telegram saying his hotel has let him down. As you know, all the hotels in Hastings are jammed at the moment, what with all the troop movements, and I can't find anywhere to put him up.
Foyle: Oh, I see.
Sam: It would only be for a couple of nights and he did let us stay with him, so...
Foyle: No, fine. I'll be happy to.
Sam: Thank you. His bus gets in at ten to three.
Foyle: Does it?
Sam: And I don't get off work till six so...
Foyle: Don't you?
She smiles hopefully.
Foyle: It's all right, I'll stroll down.
She sighs in relief.
Sam: Thank you very, very much, sir.
Foyle: Not at all.
She walks out into the hall.
Sam: Oh, how's the book going?
Foyle: It's much as you left it. Just looked over the chapter on horse racing and illegal rambling.
Sam: Don't you mean gambling?
Foyle: I do. Not quite what you typed.
Sam: Ah. Better be on my way. Thanks again.
Meredith's office. Milner sits in front of his desk.
Milner: I don't think they were trying to k*ll me, sir. Just making a point.
Meredith: You think they were working for Burton?
Milner: Yes, sir. He's scared. I think I'll let him sit tight a while. I'm sure he'll give me what I need.
Meredith: Then you should come along with me to Cranville College. I've had a message from London. Have you heard of Francis Wood, Bishop of Cirencester? We've got a whole clutch of them down here. Some sort of ecumenical conference. It's hard to know why they're having it here when the coast's off limits.
Milner: It is ten miles inland, sir.
Meredith: Oh. Just when it looks as if we're going to b*mb the Jerries out of existence, Bishop Wood wants us all to forgive and forget.
Milner: You think he'll bring trouble?
Meredith: I think he is trouble.
Milner nods.
Beverley Lodge. Jane is coming out of the building.
Adam (offscreen): That's not a reason to leave.
He chuckles. He's standing smoking and talking to a woman by a parked lorry. Jane hurries over.
Jane: I want to talk to you.
Adam: (Uh-oh.) Well, that makes a change.
Woman: Bye, then.
Adam: See you.
Jane: There's something you're not telling me.
Adam: There's all sorts of things I'm not telling you, Jane. For example, how crazy I am about you.
Jane: Stop it.
Adam: No, I mean it. Who'd have thought I'd have found love in a godforsaken dump like this, but I'm quite serious. I think I want to spend the rest of my life with you.
Jane: You talk a lot of tommyrot.
Adam: Well, what about the weekend, then? What do you say? Why don't we just slip away? Just the two of us. Like last time.
He starts heading back towards the building.
Jane: Who is your Uncle Bill?
Adam: What are you talking about?
Jane: Who is he?
Adam: Who gave you that name? Was this Henry? What's he been saying about me? Tell me. I want to know.
Street outside the Plume of Feathers. A bus is approaching, and Foyle walks across the street to meet it as it comes to a halt in front of the pub. Passengers start getting off.
Woman: Cheerio. Nice to see you.
Aubrey Stewart appears in the doorway.
Aubrey: Ah, my dear Mr Foyle. How very good to see you.
Foyle: And you.
Aubrey: I take it Samantha spoke to you?
Foyle: She did.
Aubrey: And I can stay?
Foyle: You can. It'll be a pleasure. Shall I take that?
He takes one of Aubrey's suitcases.
Aubrey: Thank you.
Foyle: Good trip?
Aubrey: Oh, stop and start. Never seen so many troops on the move. It really feels like the big push and all that. How are you? I hear you're, er, no longer with the police.
Foyle: Well, that's right.
Aubrey: Hmm. Well, you must tell all. Perhaps over a cup of tea. I'm absolutely parched.
Photo-processing room, Beverley Lodge. Henry is examining a pair of photos under a stereoscope. Waterlow is at work at a nearby desk.
Henry: I don't understand. This can't be right.
Waterlow: Can I help?
Henry: Go to the library and get me anything you can on this area here.
He shows Waterlow a map.
Waterlow: North of Stuttgart.
Henry: North and northwest. This map was made in '31. It can't be right. Get me any up-to-date information. I need to know if there have been any raids that might have changed the landscape.
Adam Everitt approaches as Waterlow as leaving.
Adam: I want a word.
Henry: Not now.
Adam: Yes, now, Henry, damn you.
Henry is still focused on the photographs.
Henry: No, no, no.
Adam: I said I want to talk to you.
Henry: Oh, go to hell, Everitt!
He snatches up one of the pair of photos and leaves with it.
Reception area. Jane is just coming down the stairs as Henry comes through, putting his coat on.
Jane: Henry? What is it? What's the matter?
Henry: It's not there.
Jane: What isn't there? Where are you going?
Henry: The church!
He leaves.
Foyle house. Aubrey and Foyle are drinking tea at the table.
Aubrey: It's this question of total and unconditional surrender. Everyone knows the Germans have lost the w*r. It's just a question of how many more innocent people have to die before they accept it. Take the bombing of Hamburg, for example. Hundreds k*lled. Do we condone it? Can we condone it? "Thou shalt not k*ll." The Bible makes it pretty clear.
He takes a sip of his tea.
Aubrey: Do you have any sugar?
Foyle snorts.
Foyle: Afraid not.
Aubrey: And, of course, if you're sticking to moral absolutes, you come to "love your enemy". And that's where we are now. Except we're not loving them. We're bombing the hell out of them.
Foyle: And where do you stand?
Aubrey: I'm behind Francis Wood, Bishop of Cirencester. He'll be at Cranville. And what he's preaching is reconciliation and forgiveness. A negotiated peace.
Foyle: Is this the right time?
Aubrey: He won't worry about that. You know he tried to set up a Famine Relief Committee for children across Europe? Can you imagine? It would have meant breaking our own blockade. Course, it didn't get very far. Anyway, look, you don't want to talk about all this. How are you? How's Sam?
Foyle: Well, she's fine. You'll see her later.
Aubrey: By the way, I've got something for you. I brought it up from the country.
He picks up one of his cases and opens it.
Aubrey: A bottle of my home-made wine.
He presents the bottle to Foyle, who takes a moment to find the right words.
Foyle: Very kind of you. Thank you.
Cranville college. The college bells rings. A police driver brings Meredith and Milner to the main door and they get out.
Later. The two of them are walking along with Bishop Francis Wood.
Wood: Well, it's very reassuring to have a police presence, Detective Chief Superintendent. But I think, er, hardly necessary.
Meredith: Yes, well, I think we'll be the best judge of that.
Wood: Yes, of course.
Meredith: When you spoke in London, you caused a riot.
Wood: No. Not at all. A few dissenting voices.
Milner: Are you planning on speaking in public while you're here, sir?
Wood: This is a church conference, but any members of the public will be welcome.
Meredith: I hardly need tell you that sedition is still an offence.
Wood: Sedition?
Meredith: "The night bombing of German cities, a degradation of the spirit for all who take part in it, threatens the roots of civilisation..."
Wood: You heard my address.
Meredith: I read it. Let me tell you this, Bishop Wood, you say those things down here, and I'll throw the book at you. Come on, Milner.
He walks off and Milner follows.
Victoria Hammond's boarding house. Henry sits on the stairs clutching his head.
Hammond (offscreen): Mr Scott? What are you doing at home at this time of the day?
She's standing at the foot of the stairs.
Hammond: Is something the matter?
Henry: I'm just trying to think.
Hammond: Are you all right?
Henry: No.
Hammond: Would you like me to call the doctor?
Henry: No, I don't need the doctor.
He suddenly gets up and heads for the door.
Hammond: Where are you going?
Henry: Out.
Phone box. Henry stands talking on the phone.
Henry: Yes. Yes. Look, I need to talk to you. No, it is urgent. No, I know. Yeah, I, I know. No, it can't wait.
Beverley Lodge. Wing Commander Forster is walking back towards his office. He sees Waterlow just closing the office door behind him.
Forster: Waterlow? What were you doing in my office?
Waterlow: I was looking for you, sir.
Forster: Why?
Waterlow: I'm worried about Scott. He's gone.
Forster: Gone? Gone where?
Waterlow: I don't know. He asked me to get a reference on the area round Stuttgart, and when I got back, he wasn't at his desk. I've spoken to the sentries. They say he's left the building. And I think he may have taken a photograph with him. There were two photographs under the stereoscope. I saw them just now. One of them's gone. I didn't see the name.
Forster: Do you think Scott took it? That's against all regulations. We must find him.
Waterlow: He's billeted in Birchwood Lane. He told me that. Would you like me to go round?
Forster: Er, no. No. Thank you, Waterlow. This is my responsibility. I'll deal with it.
Waterlow: Sir.
Garton Wood. Two women are walking through the trees together.
Woman: I'm hoping John's gonna go.
Woman 2: Oh, okay. Well, hopefully my Billy comes back at the weekend.
Woman: Ah!
Woman 2: So we can go too.
A short distance away, Henry Scott's body is hanging from a tree.
Woman: Oh, God!
Meredith's office.
Meredith: What news on Burton?
Milner brings him a sheet of paper.
Milner: This is a list of contracts he's had over the past four years that I think we need to investigate.
Meredith: Army, Air Force, RASC, NFS. It's endless. Are you saying he was defrauding the whole lot of them?
Milner: He'd have had to have had people inside on every one of these, sir. It's the only way it would've worked. I'm still trying to get a list of names off him.
There's a knock at the door and Brooke enters.
Brooke: Sorry to break in on you, sir, but we've had a report. A man found hanged in Garton Wood. A couple of land girls came across him swinging in the breeze.
Meredith: Yes, well, I don't see why you need to bother us with it, sergeant. There are plenty of miserable people out there. We've got better things to do than to go out mopping up after them. You deal with it.
Brooke: Oh, I wouldn't have troubled you, sir, except the MO found a photograph in his pocket. Taken from a plane. It's a place called Hoch Feldhausen. It's marked on the back. Well, I'd say that sounds German, wouldn't you, sir?
Meredith looks at Milner.
Garton Wood. The three of them walk through the trees while uniformed officers question two the land girls in the background.
Meredith: Any idea who he was?
Brooke: His name was Henry Scott. Er, he was carrying his identity card.
They reach the body and Milner lifts the blanket covering it. There's a ladder propped up against the tree he was found hanging from.
Milner: How long had he been here?
Brooke: Only about an hour or so, sir, according to the doc.
Meredith: Very young.
Brooke: You, erm, you don't suppose he was a Jerry spy, do you, sir? Well, all the troop movements around here, it wouldn't surprise me.
Milner: Why would a German spy carry a photograph of one of his own towns? It would incriminate him.
Brooke: Homesick?
Milner looks up at the tree.
Milner: Sergeant, do you mind climbing the ladder?
Brooke: Right you are, sir.
Milner: Tell me what you see.
Brooke: Well, it's a lovely view up here, Mr Milner. There's lots of trees...
Milner: I'm not interested in the view. Look at the branch. Can you see where the rope was?
Brooke: Yes, it's, er, it's cut a groove into the branch.
Milner: How deep is it?
Brooke: Oh, it's quite deep. It's deeper than I would have imagined.
Milner: Doesn't go all the way round?
Brooke: No, sir, about halfway.
Meredith: What are you going on about, Milner?
Milner: Well, look at the rope, sir. There's a green stain all the way down where it's rubbed against the branch.
Meredith: Well, what of it?
Milner: If you were going to hang yourself, you'd throw the rope over the branch and tie it. Or you might climb up and tie it.
Meredith: Yeah.
Milner: But this rope has been dragged over the branch with something heavy attached to the other end. It's made, a deep groove, and a whole length of it has been stained green.
Meredith takes a look at the rope.
Later. The three of them are walking back through the trees.
Milner: I also noticed extensive bruising at the back of the victim's head. I suppose he could have hit the branch as he fell, but I don't think so.
Meredith: You think he was knocked out?
Milner: Yes, sir. Knocked out and then dragged into the air. I think he was m*rder*d.
The Plume of Feathers pub, night. Aubrey, Sam and Foyle are having drinks together.
Aubrey: It was a fascinating afternoon. I met Francis Wood. Very impressive. And, er, were you aware you have a German priest here in Hastings?
Sam: A Jerry? He's probably spying on us.
Aubrey: No, not at all. He's a friend of Bonhoeffer.
Sam: Who's he?
Aubrey: Bonhoeffer. You know who I'm talking about?
Foyle: Dietrich Bonhoeffer.
Aubrey: Mmm, German Protestant. Spoke out against h*tler.
Foyle: He did here in 1933.
Aubrey: Well, you'll be sorry to hear that he insisted on returning to Germany and the Gestapo arrested him. He's in prison. But you must come out with me tomorrow. There are some public forums and you can meet Father Keppler. He's in Hastings. From St Jude's.
Sam: I can't imagine anything more dreary.
Aubrey: That's because you're a wicked girl and a severe disappointment to your parents and all your uncles. So why don't you tell us what you're doing with yourself now you've been thrown out of the police?
Sam: I wasn't thrown out, I resigned. Anyway, I can't tell you anything except I'm making a vital contribution to the w*r effort.
Aubrey: I'll drink to that.
Sam: It's not the same, you know, sir. You should have stayed.
Foyle: Really?
Sam: Well, if you're writing a wartime history of the Hastings police, you should stay till the last chapter.
Foyle: No, no, no. Belongs to somebody else.
Sam: DCS Meredith, you mean. He was the one who fired me.
Aubrey: I thought you said you resigned?
Sam: Well, I would have, given the chance. Oh. I've got to go, I'm afraid. I've a seven o'clock start.
She gets up to get her coat.
Aubrey: Keeping you on your toes, then, at Secret Intelligence?
Sam: It's a very boring job, Uncle Aubrey. Worse than that. It's a long way away and I miss the car.
She kisses him on the cheek and leaves.
Daylight. Sam cycles along the road to Beverley Lodge. She comes to a halt at the guard post.
Sam: Morning, Bob.
Bob: Morning.
He takes her pass and consults his clipboard.
Sam: Reporting for duty.
Later. Sam cycles the rest of the way up to the building stops.
Victoria Hammond's boarding house. A police car pulls up outside and Milner gets out.
Milner: I won't be long.
He rings the bell.
Inside.
Hammond: So he's dead. Well, it's very sad but I can't say I'm completely surprised.
Milner: What makes you say that, Mrs Hammond?
Hammond: He's tried twice before. su1c1de. You wouldn't think that, would you? A good Catholic boy.
Milner: He was religious?
Hammond: Bible before bed every night.
Milner: Erm, what else can you tell me about him?
Hammond: I can tell you I wish he'd never moved in. You don't know what it was like having a person like that in the house. I never knew what was gonna happen next. And now this!
Milner: Can you tell me where he worked?
Hammond: The Air Ministry. They were the ones who billeted him here. But I, I, I can't tell you what he did. He, he wasn't allowed to talk about it.
Milner: And, er, when did you last see him?
Hammond: Erm, he, he came in about three o'clock or a few minutes before. I could see he was in a state. He didn't stay long and he went out again almost immediately.
Milner: Did he say where he was going?
Hammond: No. "Just out." That's all he said. You should go and visit, er, Father Keppler. Oh, I know he's a Jerry but he's a good chap. He's the priest at St Jude's. I told you. Mr Scott was devout. When he wasn't trying to do himself in. But they were very close, the two of them.
St Jude's church. Milner walks into the empty church.
Milner: Hello?
Churchyard. Milner walks back over to join Brooke.
Brooke: No one at home?
Milner: Seems not.
Brooke: Been no one home for a while. God's on holiday if you ask me. How else do you explain Herr h*tler?
Cranville College. Keppler is walking round the edge of the quadrangle. He passes two other men talking.
Keppler: Good morning.
Man: Morning.
He rounds the corner to where Aubrey and Foyle are standing.
Aubrey: Ah, Father Keppler. Good morning.
They shake hands.
Aubrey: Christopher, this is the man I was telling you about. Er, Martin Keppler, Christopher Foyle.
Keppler: Er, it's a great pleasure.
Foyle: How do you do?
They shake hands.
Aubrey: Mr Foyle used to be in charge of the police in Hastings.
Keppler: You are joining us today?
Foyle: Oh, I thought I might look in, yes.
They start walking along together.
Keppler: Ah. Er, you have left the police?
Foyle: I have.
Keppler: What I always find strange is that anyone would wish to commit crime in a time of w*r.
Foyle: Well, irrepressible human nature, I suppose.
Keppler: Ah. And human nature cannot be defined by nationality.
Foyle: Probably know a little more about that than I do.
Keppler: I have to believe it, in my profession.
Foyle: How long have you been here?
Keppler: I came here two years before the w*r. I could see the direction my country was taking. I could not go with it, so I left. I had no choice. I had spoken out in public. That was a great mistake. The Gestapo had started to search for me.
Foyle: Very difficult, I imagine, for you to, er, to be in England at this time?
Keppler: What is difficult for me is that I, I did not have the courage to stay in Germany.
Police station reception area. Wing Commander Forster is pacing in the waiting area, and turns when he hears the door. He approaches Milner as he enters.
Forster: Excuse me. Are you Sergeant Milner?
Milner: Yes, sir.
Forster: I'm Wing Commander Stephen Forster. I'm here about the man who was found hanging in the woods, Henry Scott.
Meredith's office. Forster is there with him and Milner.
Forster: Look, I really don't think any police investigation is needed.
Milner: With respect, sir, that's not for you to decide.
Forster: I just don't want you wasting your time. Or mine. Henry Scott was a mess. He hated his job. He hated the w*r. He'd tried to do away with himself at least twice before.
Meredith: Was this ever reported, Wing Commander?
Forster: No. Of course, it should have been. But Scott was superb at his work, and we decided to look after him ourselves.
Meredith: Did he have any enemies?
Forster: No. None that I know of.
Meredith: Well, I must say, Milner, this does look a bit like a blind alley.
Milner: You still haven't told us what his work was, sir.
Forster: I can't. Not without clearance from the Air Ministry, and frankly, I don't think they'll give it. Our work is highly classified.
Milner: And we still have a man who is dead, sir.
Forster: A man who k*lled himself.
Meredith: Look, this isn't getting us very far. We'll apply to the Air Ministry and see what they have to say.
Forster: Fine.
Meredith: I take it you are on the telephone? And that we can get in touch with you?
Forster: Of course. By the way, did Scott have a photograph with him?
Meredith: Yes. What was the name on it, Milner?
Milner: Hoch Feldhausen, sir.
Meredith: That's right.
Forster: I need it back.
Milner: I'm sorry, sir. I can't do that. It's police evidence.
Forster: It's actually very important to us right now.
Beverley Lodge. Jane is climbing the stairs. She passes Adam coming down.
Jane: Have you heard about Henry?
Adam: Everyone's heard about poor Henry.
Jane: You don't care, do you?
Adam: Give me one reason why I should.
Jane: Because we needed him here. He was good at his job. He was the best.
Adam: I imagine there are Henries beavering away in drawing offices all over the country. They'll find a replacement.
Jane: He was my friend.
Adam: Oh, was he?
Jane: You know how I felt about him.
Adam: Rather better than you, Jane. You felt sorry for him, that's all.
Jane: You're a cad.
Adam: It's the truth, Jane, and you know it. You had no relationship with Henry Scott-
Sam is coming along the upper level towards the staircase with some rolled papers, and stops when she sees them talking on the stairs.
Adam: Beyond some Hansel and Gretel thing, which, in the absence of any gingerbread cottages, was going nowhere. And now that he's gone, you're trying to pretend there was more to it than that.
Jane: You're glad he's dead.
Adam: Not really.
Jane: Yes, you are. Because he knew something about you. You wanted him out of the way.
Adam looks up and notices Sam.
Adam: Have you been eavesdropping?
Sam: No. Not really. I was just sent up here to get some maps.
She starts moving again. Adam moves closer to Jane.
Adam: Listen, we shouldn't talk here. Why don't you come out for a drink tonight.
Jane: You never give up, do you?
She walks off up the stairs. Sam passes behind Adam, heading down.
Adam: You're Stewart, is that right?
Sam: Yes. Samantha Stewart.
They shake hands.
Adam: Adam Everitt. Are you new here?
Sam: Actually, I've been here about six months.
Adam: Well, er, the maps.
Sam: Yes, I've got them here.
Adam: Maybe you'd better take them down.
Sam: Right.
Cranville college. Bishop Wood is talking with a group of a dozen seated around a conference table. Aubrey and Keppler are among them.
Wood: Germany is being demolished. Town by town, village by village, night after night. Civilians are dying. Monuments are being destroyed. The bombers have no real plan of att*ck, because in the darkness, bombing is blind. This is not the way of a civilised society.
Milner enters the room behind him, escorted by a priest who approaches the table.
Wood: This is nothing more than revenge and we have to tell people that it is wrong.
The priest whispers something to Wood.
Wood: Father Keppler. I'm very sorry, but I've been asked to tell you there's a police officer here who wishes to see you.
Keppler: Will you excuse me, gentlemen?
He leaves the table.
Wood: The historic centres of the great German cities are being destroyed.
Outside. Keppler and Milner are walking along together.
Keppler: You interrupted a very important meeting. What is it that concerns you?
Milner: I understand you know a man called Henry Scott?
Keppler: Henry? Yes, I know him well.
Milner: Did you see him yesterday afternoon?
Keppler: No. I, I was here most of the afternoon. Then I, I went home. Why do you ask?
Milner: I'm sorry to have to tell you that he was found dead yesterday afternoon. In Garton Wood. Not far from here.
Keppler: Um, may, may I ask you, Sergeant, had he taken his own life?
Milner: Yes, it appeared that way.
Keppler rubs his face for a moment.
Keppler: Forgive me. I, I thought all this was behind him. I thought- I shall pray for his soul. He was a very troubled young man, but to take your own life is a great sin.
Milner: What did trouble him, sir?
Keppler: The w*r. His part in it. The loss of innocent life. He, he felt responsible.
Milner: Why? What was his occupation?
Keppler: You don't know?
Milner: No.
Keppler: Then I'm afraid I'm unable to tell you, Sergeant. Henry told me about certain aspects of his work, but in very strict confidence. You understand I speak here of the trust between a priest and a supplicant? So I am sorry, Sergeant, but, in this case, I have to answer to a higher authority than yours.
Milner: And I still have to investigate his death.
Keppler: Of course. But if he took his own life, I, I don't see why.
Milner: I said it appeared that way.
Keppler: But you can't think he... How was he found?
Milner: He was hanging from a tree.
Keppler: Only a few weeks ago, it was pills.
Milner: You should have reported it.
Keppler: A crime against the state? Perhaps, but for me, it was more a crime against his own faith.
Milner: Did you try to help him?
Keppler: Of course. And I failed. I will have to live with that. But let me assure you, Sergeant, Henry had no enemies. There was- there was nobody who would wish him dead.
Milner: I don't believe it was su1c1de.
Keppler: Well, then I will help you in any way I can. Although within those boundaries I've already explained to you.
Milner: Thank you. I don't suppose you've heard of a place called Hoch Feldhausen?
Keppler: Why do you ask?
Milner: Have you?
Keppler: Feldhausen. It's a common name. Er, there was a Feldhausen, I think, outside Berlin. But Hoch Feldhausen? No, I don't think so.
Milner: When did you come to England, sir?
Keppler: Er, before the w*r, in '37.
Milner: And where were you before that?
Keppler: I was in Munich, the church of St Nicholas.
Milner: Thank you. We'll talk again.
Keppler: I, I'm an easy man to find. My door is always open.
Milner walks away.
Beverley Lodge, night. Sam heads over to collect her bike from outside the building. As she wheels it away, Adam walks up behind her.
Adam: Miss Stewart.
Sam: Yes?
Adam: I'd just like to say, about this afternoon, it's not good to eavesdrop, especially in a place like this.
Sam: I don't know what you're talking about.
Adam: Well, listening in on things that have nothing to do with you. I'd be careful if I were you.
Sam: Are you threatening me?
Adam: I'm just advising you not to repeat things that you shouldn't have heard in the first place.
Sam: It's Mr Everitt, isn't it?
Adam: That's right.
Sam: Well, I'd forgotten all about it, if you really want to know.
Adam: I'm glad.
Sam: But since you're so worried about it that you've come out here to bully me, I'm going to mention it to everyone I can.
She gets on her bike and rides away.
Meredith's office.
Meredith: These priests and vicars aren't going to say anything to you.
He and Milner are heading out of the office together.
Meredith: And I'm not sure we can make them. As for the Air Ministry, I doubt we're going to hear from them.
Milner: We can approach Wing Commander Forster again, sir.
Meredith: Well, we can always try, I suppose. Perhaps we should reconsider the whole thing. I mean, are we sure we are dealing with m*rder here?
Milner: I have a gut feeling, sir.
Meredith: Not much else. I mean, this man Scott was suicidal. And it seems an awful lot of trouble to lug him up into a tree.
Milner: Unless it was to make it look like he k*lled himself.
They pass through the reception area where Brooke is at the front desk.
Meredith: Good night, Sergeant.
Brooke: Night, sir.
Outside. Meredith and Milner walk out of the building together.
Meredith: Now, you do what you think is best.
Milner: Thank you, sir.
Meredith: I don't suppose you'd care for a drink before you get home?
Milner: Er, no, sir.
A short distance away, someone aims a r*fle at the two of them.
Milner: That's very kind of you, but, er, my wife will be waiting for me.
The r*fle scope moves between the two of them.
Meredith: Okay. Damn! I've left my fountain pen inside.
He turns to go back into the building. The r*fle scope is focused on Milner. Then Meredith walks in front of him. The r*fle fires. Meredith groans in pain and clutches his chest, collapsing. Milner rushes over to him. As he helps Meredith to the ground, Milner sees that his hand is covered in blood.
Meredith: Charlie!
Brooke hurries out of the building.
Brooke: Milner?
Milner: Brooke, call for an ambulance!
Meredith: I've missed you, Charlie.
Milner: Sir, try to keep still.
Meredith: I'm glad you're here.
His eyes roll back.
Daylight. A car is driving along with Assistant Commissioner Henry Parkins in the back. It approaches Cranville College.
Outside the college building. Aubrey and Foyle are walking along together.
Aubrey: You sure you don't want to join us today?
Foyle: No, I won't, thank you, if it's all the same to you.
Aubrey: We have a fascinating debate this morning.
Parkins' car pulls up nearby.
Aubrey: The question is, how do we get the message across? The English church, the German church, one family. Looking beyond the w*r to the future. Coming together again.
Foyle: It would happen in time, wouldn't it?
The two of them are walking in the direction of the car as Parkins gets out.
Aubrey: No, Christopher. That's the whole point. It has to happen now.
Parkins: Mr Foyle.
Foyle: Uh-oh.
Aubrey: What is it?
Foyle: Trouble.
Aubrey: Oh. I'll leave you to it.
Foyle: Oh, will you. Thank you. Assistant Commissioner.
Parkins: How are you?
Foyle: I'm very well. You?
Parkins: Yes, thanks.
Foyle: Little over-dressed for a church conference, I'd have said.
Parkins: I'd like to speak to you privately.
They walk through into the hall with the conference table, currently empty.
Parkins: You haven't heard? Meredith was sh*t last night.
Foyle is silent for a moment.
Foyle: How is he?
Parkins: He's dead. Milner was with him. He's all right. He wasn't touched. But Meredith d*ed in his arms.
Foyle: Well, I'm very sorry to hear that. I never met him.
Parkins: I knew him well. In fact, I recommended him for the job.
Foyle: Any idea who did it?
Parkins: Not yet. We're not even sure that he was the target. In fact, it's more likely it was Milner.
Foyle: Really?
Parkins: Someone had a go at him just a few days ago.
Foyle: Did they?
Parkins: I was told I'd find you here.
Foyle: Well, I know why you're here. And the answer's no.
Parkins: I can understand that. But listen, this is completely unprecedented. The sh**ting of a senior police officer in the street.
Foyle: Well, I understand that. The answer's no.
Parkins sits down.
Parkins: When you resigned a year ago, I was new to the job. I was trying to find my feet. All the facts of the matter seemed to be against you. But the truth is, I was a Colonel Blimp of the very worst sort, and you were absolutely right to resign. I beg of you to reconsider and come back, if only to discover who committed this terrible crime. We have to bring his k*ller to justice.
Foyle: Milner's very capable.
Parkins: I know that, and I agree. But did you know he's put in for transfer?
Foyle: I did.
Parkins: Well, therein lies our problem. This is difficult, particularly in the light of what I've just said, but I'm afraid there's been a certain lack of leadership in Hastings since you left. There is no one else.
Police station. Foyle walks through the doors into the reception area, where Brooke is at the desk.
Brooke: Mr Foyle!
Foyle: Good morning.
Brooke: Sir. Oh, don't tell me- are, are you coming...?
Foyle holds up a hand to stop him.
Foyle: Only for a while. Just a temporary arrangement tell we sort out what happened to Mr Meredith, okay?
Brooke: Sir. Well, thank goodness someone at the top has finally shown a bit of sanity.
Foyle: Right. You question the judgement of any senior officer in front of me ever again, I'll make sure you're transferred and demoted. Better still, I'll have you discharged.
He walks through into the back.
Brooke: Nice to have him back.
Meredith's office. Foyle walks into the room and takes his hat and coat off. He picks up the photo Meredith left on the desk and looks at it for a moment before moving it over to a side table.
Meredith house.
Joyce: Justice won't help my husband now, will it? But I know you'll do your best.
Foyle and Milner are both there.
Foyle: Yes.
Joyce: You didn't know John, did you?
Foyle: I didn't, no.
Milner: No, I served under your husband, Mrs Meredith.
Joyce: Mr Milner. You wanted a transfer. He told me.
Milner: It was personal circumstances.
Joyce: You're lying to me. You both are. You think I'm the grieving widow so you're telling me what you think I want to hear. But I'm not.
She goes over to pick up a photo and shows it to them.
Joyce: These are my two sons. Teddy was k*lled the year before last in Africa. Charlie d*ed last year. He was with the 8th Army in Sicily. John didn't want your job, Mr Foyle. They twisted his arm to make him take it. And when he did, he didn't care about it. He didn't care about anything. He was dead inside. We both were.
She takes the photo over to put it back.
Joyce: I still am. I can't grieve. I have no feelings left.
Outside. Foyle and Milner are leaving the building.
Milner: He thought I was his son.
Foyle: Beg your pardon?
Milner: When he was dying, that's who he thought I was.
Foyle: Did he?
Milner: He called me Charlie.
Foyle: Well, some small comfort in that, I suppose.
Milner: I just thought he was doing a bad job. I didn't try to understand him.
Beverley Lodge. Sam is leaving the building to walk back to her bike. Then she spots Jane sitting alone on a bench and goes over to her.
Sam: Hello. You all right?
Jane has been crying.
Jane: Yes. No, not really.
Sam sits down on the bench beside her.
Sam: This is about Henry, isn't it? Do you want to talk about him?
Jane: I've got no one to talk to.
Sam: Well, you can talk to me.
Jane: I don't even know you.
Sam: Yes. Well, that's the thing about Beverley Lodge, isn't it? Everyone's working in their different sections and nobody seems to know anyone.
Jane: You're in the library, aren't you?
Sam: That's me. And you work for Wing Commander Forster?
Jane: Yes. Administration.
Sam: How long were you there for?
Jane: Three years.
Sam: And what about Henry?
Jane: He was here right from the start. He was brilliant at his work. Everyone said so.
Sam: And you were very close?
Jane: We were walking out together. For a time. Then it all went wrong.
Sam: Don't tell me. That Everitt chap?
Jane: Did you hear what we were saying?
Sam: A bit, I'm afraid.
Jane: Adam hated Henry. But it was more than that. Henry knew something about him. But he might have just been making it up, I don't know.
Sam: Well, Adam certainly seemed worried about something.
Jane: Adam wouldn't hurt anyone, I'm sure of it. Sometimes he says stupid things, but he doesn't mean them. But, at the same time, I was the last person to see Henry alive and I know he wasn't going to k*ll himself.
Meredith's office. Foyle sits down at the desk opposite Milner, flicking through a file.
Foyle: Well, this is all pretty thorough. Is this it?
Milner: Yes, sir.
Foyle: Well, we certainly need, er, more on, er, Henry Scott and, er, this. Where's this place again?
He picks up the aerial photograph.
Milner: Er, it's written on the back, sir.
Foyle: Hoch.
Milner: Feldhausen.
Foyle: What did Keppler have to say about this?
Milner: He couldn't help me. He'd never heard of it.
Foyle: And you spoke to Forster, didn't you?
Milner: Yes, we did. Nothing there either, although he did want that back.
Foyle: Right. Well, we should try him again.
Milner: I'm not sure he'll be very helpful, though. He's, er, under Air Ministry restrictions.
Foyle: Well, we'll get clearance. I'll speak to Parkins. Call Forster, anyway.
Milner: Yes, sir.
Foyle: Keppler, Forster... Who else isn't telling us anything?
Police interview room.
Burton: How long are you planning to keep me here?
Foyle (offscreen): As long as it takes, Mr Burton.
Burton: I want my lawyer.
Foyle (offscreen): Well, you're gonna need one. Defrauding the armed services in a time of w*r. There's, er, there's not a judge in the country is gonna look kindly on that one.
Burton: You can't prove anything.
Foyle looks towards Milner who's standing beside him.
Foyle: You made threats against a police officer. You're an accessory to the m*rder of another.
Burton: What do you mean?
Foyle: Two attempts on this man's life after you made the threats led to the death of another officer.
Burton: I had nothing to do with it. Look, I warned him. It's not me. There are people out there, my connections. I told you, I was in here. I had nothing to do with it.
Foyle: Then why are you covering up for the people who did? Listen, I don't really care one way or another, to be honest with you. You made the threats. Somebody's carried them out. Now you're refusing to tell us who that was or might have been. It's enough to hang you.
He moves to leave.
Burton: Wait. I've worked with lots of people and it could have been any of them.
Foyle: Well, it's not enough. We need names.
Burton sighs.
Photo-processing room. Waterlow is going through a stack of photographs. He turns as he hears a door creak open.
Forster's office. He's on the phone.
Forster: Yes, of course I understand, but I'm still going to have to wait until I've heard from my superiors in London.
Adam stands in the open doorway to the photo-processing room, listening.
Forster: I'm sorry. There's nothing more I can say.
He hangs up. Out in the photo-processing room, Waterlow moves forward to watch the two of them through the doorway.
Forster: The police want to see me again.
Adam: Put them off.
He goes to close the door and sees Waterlow watching. Waterlow moves away.
Forster: Everitt, for God's sake. Everything has changed. The officer who was in charge of the case has been k*lled.
Adam: What?
Forster: They've put another man in. Someone called Foyle. They're bound to find their way here eventually.
Adam: Well, you're going to have to stop them, Wing Commander. Because if they find their way to you, they'll find their way to me. And if that happens, we both go down.
Forster: What do you know about the death of Henry Scott?
Adam: Nothing. Nothing at all.
Forster: Don't lie to me, Everitt. Tell me what you know.
Photo-processing room. Two women are just leaving their desks.
Woman: Ready to go?
Woman 2: Yes.
Woman: Jolly good. I'll finish all this lot tomorrow.
Woman 2: Oh, well done.
Waterlow is left alone in the room. He goes over to the door to check they're gone, then closes it and goes back to his desk. He takes out a camera and begins taking photographs of some aerial photos and maps.
Phone box. Waterlow is speaking on the phone.
Waterlow: I've got the pictures and it's just as we thought. Dortmund, two weeks from now, but they've got the factories half a mile to the south. Yes, way off line. It'll be a miracle if they hit anything. That's right, don't worry. I'll send them in the usual way.
Police station reception area. Sam enters and walks up to the desk, where Brooke is on duty.
Brooke: Miss Stewart! What are you doing here?
Sam: Hello, Brookie. Look, I've got some very important information. Who should I speak to about it?
Brooke: Well, it's funny you should ask that, actually.
Foyle is just coming out from the back.
Foyle: Sam?
Sam: Sir! What are you doing here?
Foyle: Well, what are you doing here?
Sam: I've come about Henry Scott. The man who was k*lled in the woods. It wasn't su1c1de. It was m*rder. And I think I know who did it.
Foyle's office. Foyle leads Sam and Milner inside.
Sam: I've been working there for six months, sir. I was put onto them by the WVS. They just said they needed someone to work in the library. I had no idea what they did. It turns out they were making maps. When they bombed some of those dams last year, Beverley Lodge made some of the maps that got them there. And all the raids going on now, you wouldn't believe it...
Foyle holds up a finger.
Foyle: You might want to stop there.
Sam: I haven't done anything wrong, have I, sir?
Foyle: Well, you mean apart from breaking the Official Secrets Act?
Sam: Well, I, I had to tell someone after what Jane Hudson told me. She's convinced Henry didn't hang himself.
Milner: Even though he'd tried twice before?
Sam: Oh, she says they weren't real attempts. You know, a cry for help and all that. Anyway, he knew something about this chap, Adam Everitt. I've met him, and I can tell you, he's a nasty piece of work. If Henry had something on him, he wouldn't hesitate for a second. And he was the last person to see Henry alive. And according to Jane, he was on his way to his church. He was going to tell the priest there something that he knew. Maybe he did. Anyway, you have to talk to Jane Hudson, sir. She wants to see you.
Foyle: Right. Mm-hmm. Is that it?
Sam: Yes, sir.
Foyle: Well, well done.
Sam: I have to go back to Beverley Lodge now. Is there anything else I can do?
Foyle: You could, erm, keep your mouth shut, stay out of trouble.
Sam: Wilco.
Cranville College. Keppler and Bishop Wood are speaking amid a group of other delegates.
Keppler: My lord, I, I understand what you're saying, your, your talk of reconciliation.
Foyle and Milner are approaching across the quadrangle.
Wood: I'm sure you understand it better than anyone, Father Keppler.
Keppler: Yes, but the fact is, the w*r has gone on for a very long time.
Wood: But the end is in sight.
Quadrangle.
Milner: Martin Keppler didn't tell me very much, sir. He said he answered to a higher authority.
Foyle: Seemed reasonable enough when I met him.
They approach Wood and Keppler.
Foyle: Good afternoon.
Keppler: Good afternoon.
Wood: Can I help you?
Foyle: Erm, just hoping for a few more words with Father Keppler.
Wood: Again?
Foyle: Yes, again. If you don't mind?
Wood: I do mind. This is an ecumenical conference. And I object to my people being dragged into some squalid investigation, particularly Father Keppler.
Foyle: Particularly because?
Wood: I should have thought it was obvious why you're singling him out. As if he didn't suffer enough as a refugee when he came to this country.
Keppler: Please, my lord, I am quite happy to talk to these officers. Although I, er, I thought Mr Foyle had retired from police work?
Foyle: Yeah, so did I. As for the, er, squalid investigation, I'll grant it's a little less ecumenical than your conference, but, er, considering a policeman has been m*rder*d and another man has been found dead in the woods here, I'd have hoped the church might have managed a little more understanding of our position.
Wood: I'm sorry. I'll leave you together.
Keppler: If you'd excuse us, er...?
He and the other delegates leave.
Keppler: So this is now official?
Foyle: Er, it seems so, yes. No, I just wanted to ask if you'd, erm, by any chance, seen Mr Scott on the day he d*ed?
Keppler: No, I did not.
Foyle: Oh. Didn't come to the church, for example?
Keppler: Well, he may have done, but he wouldn't have found me there. I was here.
Foyle: Oh, right.
Keppler: All day? Until about mid-afternoon. I left about three o'clock, I think.
Foyle: Right. Did he ever talk to you about his work?
Keppler: I, I have already explained to your sergeant. I am unable to talk about Henry's work.
Foyle: Oh, right. Not quite what I asked. Erm, did he talk to you?
Keppler: Henry had doubts about his work. That we discussed often. He felt ashamed. But for a German to ask too many questions, er, even a Category C alien like myself, would not have been wise.
Foyle: I understand. Mmm. Erm, evidently, for whatever reason, he took a photograph away from the place where he works that day. Erm, any idea why he'd have done that?
Keppler: No. I'm afraid not, no.
Foyle: Oh. I mean, you wouldn't have seen that?
Keppler: Er, forgive me, Mr Foyle, I think I said I did not see Henry, so how could I?
Foyle: Quite, quite.
Police station reception area. Foyle and Milner walk in. Brooke clears his throat to draw their attention. Parkins is behind the desk with him.
Parkins: Foyle.
Foyle: Assistant Commissioner.
Parkins: I don't want to take up too much of your time. I've managed to get clearance for you to visit Beverley Lodge from the Air Ministry. It basically gives you carte blanche. Only you, I'm afraid. And they're gonna make you sign a great pile of official forms. But at least you're in.
Beverley Lodge. Brooke drives Foyle up to the building.
Brooke: So, what exactly is this place, then, sir?
Foyle: I could tell you, Sergeant...
Brooke: But then you'd have to sh**t me. Yeah, I know that one, sir.
Foyle gets out.
Foyle: Don't tempt me.
He walks into the building as Brooke reverses the car.
Forster's office. He checks through Foyle's documents as they walk in together.
Forster: Yes, well, these are all in order. I must apologise to you, Mr Foyle. I wasn't being deliberately obstructive.
Foyle: No, no, no, no, I'm sure you weren't.
Forster: Well, maybe I was, but that's my job. Very few people know the existence of this place, and the majority of people that do probably work here. But now that London have given you the go-ahead, anything I can do to help?
Foyle: Well, you can start by telling me exactly what Henry Scott did here.
Forster: He was an aircraftsman second class, sent to us from High Wycombe. He'd done an apprenticeship as a lithographic maps and plan draughtsman. But we have lots of different sorts of people here. Designers, cartoonists even.
He leads Foyle through into the photo-processing room.
Forster: This is where the bulk of our work gets done. We only have old maps of Germany. h*tler made sure that none left the country after 1933. So we have to adapt them, using local intelligence, aerial photographs, anything we can get, really. This is the stereoscope. Take a look, if you like.
Foyle looks through the stereoscope.
Forster: We have two photographs taken at two different angles and the result is a three-dimensional effect that allows us to judge height, distance, that sort of thing. This is Waterlow, one of our more recent arrivals.
Waterlow stands up as they approach his desk.
Waterlow: How do you do?
Foyle: How do you do?
Forster: Mr Foyle's a police officer. He's making enquiries about poor Scott.
Waterlow: Ah, yes, that was a blow.
Foyle: You know him well?
Waterlow: Er, not particularly. I worked with him, but we weren't good friends.
Foyle: Any reason for that?
Waterlow: He was a bit of a Bible-basher. Not quite my cup of tea.
Forster: Shall we press on?
They leave and walk through to the reception area.
Forster: There are various divisions scattered around. Fair drawing, printing. We produce over two hundred copies of every map we make here. There's a library upstairs, and distribution centre, motor transport section over in the stables, and, of course, we have our own canteen.
Foyle: How long have you been here?
Forster: I came in '42.
Foyle: Before that?
Forster: I was with Bomber Command at Laverton. Other side of the fence, you might say. Henry Scott was unhappy with the work we do here. He was good at his job but he hated the w*r. Should have been a conchie.
They walk through to the outer door.
Foyle: Why wasn't he?
Forster: I don't know. But nobody here was very surprised when he k*lled himself. I would have thought you'd have better things to do with your time.
Foyle: You'd be surprised.
Outside. Foyle approaches the car where Brooke is waiting.
Foyle: Sergeant.
Brooke: Sir.
They both get in.
Inside. Adam hurries down the stairs to meet Forster.
Adam: Well?
Forster: He's not interested in you, Everitt. You can relax.
Meredith house. Aubrey Stewart approaches and knocks on the door.
Inside.
Aubrey: Thank you for letting me visit you. Christopher Foyle asked me to look in.
Joyce: Oh, yes?
Aubrey: He was concerned about you.
Joyce: He thought I needed a clergyman? I already have one, thank you. He's burying my husband.
Aubrey: This may be an impertinence, but, erm, do you go to church?
Joyce: I used to.
Aubrey: Ah. This w*r has tested the faith of a good many people. All those lives lost. Not just in England, but across the whole world. France, Poland. Even Germany.
Joyce: Germany?
Aubrey: They're suffering, too.
Joyce: And they deserve to. They were butchers to begin with and they're butchers now.
Aubrey: Mrs Meredith, I...
Joyce: Even the ancient Romans loathed them. Every European w*r in the last hundred years was caused by them. I hope, at the end of this one, they're wiped off the face of the earth.
Aubrey: I can't share that feeling.
Joyce: I don't ask you to. But you can leave my house.
Aubrey: Of course. I'm so sorry.
Joyce: The church wants us to love these people, to forgive them. But I never will.
The Plume of Feathers pub. Night.
Jane (voiceover): Thank you for seeing me, Mr Foyle.
She, Sam and Foyle are sitting at a table together.
Jane: I didn't know who to turn to, but I had to tell someone what I know. I'll get into trouble for talking about Beverley Lodge.
Sam: It's, it's all right.
Foyle: I understand, er, you knew Henry Scott?
Jane: I was in love with him. Least, I think I was. And he liked me. We sang in the choir together at St Jude's. Henry was very close friends with the priest there, Martin Keppler.
Foyle: And you weren't?
Jane: I had to get used to the fact that he was a German. But he's a good man, and if he'd stayed behind, they'd have put him in a concentration camp, so...
Sam: Go on.
Jane: Henry had, um, very deeply-held beliefs. In a way, that was the problem. He hated what he was doing because he felt responsible for the bombings. And there was another side to it. In his relationship with me. He wouldn't even touch me. He said it was wrong. We talked about marriage and I think he, he might have married me eventually, but... I wanted more than that. I just wanted to be close.
Foyle: And that wasn't enough?
Jane: I met someone else. A man called Adam Everitt joined us in revisions section. I don't know how he was chosen because he wasn't very good and Henry was furious. Henry hated his work, in a way, but it was still important to him to get it right.
Foyle: And so you started seeing, um, Adam Everitt?
Jane: We went to Brighton for the weekend. It was madness, but I wanted to have some fun. Sam will tell you. Life at Beverley Lodge can be very grey.
Foyle: Did Henry know about this?
Jane: Yes. I don't know how, but I think Adam told him. It would be typical of him. After that, Henry wouldn't talk to me again. It was as if I'd betrayed him, but it wasn't like that. I'd never promised him anything!
Foyle: And you don't think he'd have k*lled himself?
Jane: I know he didn't. Don't ask me how. I just know.
Foyle: And, er, what about Adam, then?
Jane: Henry was threatening Adam with something that he knew. He told me he'd found out something about an uncle of Adam's. I don't know what he was talking about, but obviously it mattered to him.
Foyle: This uncle have a name?
Jane: Bill. That was all he said.
Sam: William Everitt? Unless it was his mother's side.
Foyle: And when was the last time you saw Henry, then?
Jane: It was about... three o'clock. I met him on the stairs. He said something very strange. "It's not there." Those were his exact words.
Foyle: Mm-hmm.
Jane: I asked him where he was going. And he said the church. And that was it.
She starts to cry.
Police interview room. Brooke opens the door to let Milner inside. Burton pushes a few sheets of paper across the table towards him.
Burton: That's all of them, all right? Going back four years.
Milner: You've certainly been busy.
Burton: I had nothing to do with what happened to you.
Milner: I wish I could believe you.
Burton: The first time, that was different. We didn't mean anything by it. We were just trying to show you who's who.
Milner: Are going to tell me who was driving the truck?
Burton: Their name's on the list. I never k*lled anyone. I never would. g*ns? It's not my style, Mr Milner. I promise you.
Milner: What can you tell me about Beverley Lodge?
Bus stop outside the Plume of Feathers. Foyle and Aubrey walk towards the waiting bus.
Aubrey: Well, thank you, once again, for putting me up and putting up with me.
Foyle: Oh, it's a great pleasure.
Aubrey: Oh, by the way, I visited Mrs Meredith, as you asked.
Foyle: Do any good?
Aubrey: Afraid not. Well, perhaps it did help her, in a way, having someone to blame.
Foyle: Oh, yeah, what's that?
Aubrey: Oh, the church. God. The way of the world. Anyone. Anything. Talking to her, I suddenly realised. You're absolutely right. This talk, you know, repentance, reconciliation, Bishop Wood. It's all very well. But perhaps right now what we really need is a little more humility. The church will be there at the end of the w*r. They'll find us. People will find us. Not sure we can drag them to places they're not ready to go.
He sighs.
Aubrey: That poor woman. I don't think I've ever met anyone quite so lost.
He turns as Sam comes hurrying up with her bike.
Aubrey: Ah, there you are, Samantha. You going to give me a kiss goodbye?
Sam: Goodbye, Uncle Aubrey.
She kisses his cheek.
Aubrey: I suppose you'll be going back to the police, now that Mr Foyle's in charge again.
Sam: Well, we haven't discussed it yet.
Aubrey: Quite right. An unsuitable occupation for an impressionable young lady.
She laughs. The bus engine starts.
Aubrey: Well, time to go. Good luck to you both. We'll meet again soon.
He gets on board the bus.
Sam: Don't you think he has a point, sir?
Foyle: A point? About what?
Sam: About me.
Foyle: About you?
Sam: Have you thought about having me back?
Foyle: Well, I've thought about little else.
She laughs.
Foyle: See you tomorrow.
Sam: Bye.
She rides off. As Foyle starts walking, Brooke and Milner drive round the corner in a police car and Brooke honks the horn. He stops outside the pub and Milner gets out.
Milner: Can we give you a lift, sir?
Foyle: Yes, thank you. How'd you get on?
Milner: Henry Scott went straight home on the day he d*ed, but he was seen in Lever Street later on, making a telephone call.
Foyle: Burton?
Milner: Er, he's talked. Gave me a list of names going back four years. One in particular will interest you.
Foyle: Good.
They get into the car.
Forster's office. He looks at a sheet of paper in his hands.
Forster: Yes. I met Burton two and a half years ago when I was at Laverton.
Foyle is sitting across from him at the desk.
Forster: I must have been out of my mind. It isn't as though I needed the money. But a hundred pounds for a signature on a piece of paper.
Foyle: Authorising the use of lorries that didn't exist?
Forster: Yes. Of course, once I'd accepted one payment, I couldn't stop. He kept coming back. I hoped I'd lose him when I came here but he tracked me down.
Foyle: And then what?
Forster: He has a nephew, Adam Everitt. He was called up. He was a gunner in the RAF. He didn't like it. He was scared and was looking for a way out. Burton asked me to provide it.
Foyle: Did he ask nicely?
Forster: He threatened me, of course. Everitt has some design experience. I exaggerated it and made a case for employing him here.
Foyle: And Henry Scott knew all about this, did he?
Forster: Yes, he found out somehow. I don't know how. Overheard a telephone conversation or something.
Foyle: So quite convenient, er, his death, then?
Forster: I'm many things, Mr Foyle. But I'm not a m*rder*r. Are you going to arrest me?
Foyle: Well, Wing Commander, you've allowed an unqualified man to endanger the lives of pilots and crew. You've stolen money that, er, could have been used otherwise for the w*r effort. What do you think?
Forster: I see.
Foyle: I think probably the Air Ministry will deal with you.
He stands up, and Forster does too.
Forster: Good. I'm glad. I've been wanting this to happen for some time. If only we could go back in life. I often think that. I'm ashamed of what I've done.
Outside. Milner and Foyle emerge from the building, followed by Adam, who's being escorted by a uniformed officer.
Adam: Why are you arresting me? I've done nothing wrong.
Foyle: You're not being arrested, Mr Everitt, you're being returned to your unit where they'll be very thrilled to see you. Sergeant.
Brooke: Sir.
He holds the police car door open for Adam to get in.
Adam: I'm not going to fight, damn you!
Brooke: Well, why don't you try deserting? Then we can sh**t you.
Waterlow comes hurrying out of the building behind them.
Waterlow: Mr Foyle?
Foyle: Yep.
Waterlow: I wonder if I might have a word?
Photo-processing room. Waterlow leads Foyle in.
Waterlow: Have you finished your investigation yet?
Foyle: Well, you can never be sure.
Waterlow: It's just that I thought I should let you know. My name is Richard Waterlow. I've been working here in the drawing office. But I was actually sent here by Air Intelligence. And I've been told to cooperate with you fully, Mr Foyle.
Foyle: Right. Makes a change.
Waterlow: We were concerned about the leaking of information from Beverley Lodge. There have been two or three raids in the past few months where the Germans seemed to have had advance knowledge of our intentions. New defences arriving at the last minute, that sort of thing.
Foyle: Any ideas?
Waterlow: Adam Everitt was my first thought. Little or no experience, and he arrived at around the same time the leaks began. I'd like to speak to him, if that's all right with you?
Foyle: Well, you're welcome, but I'd be surprised if he was involved. Henry Scott perhaps?
Waterlow: Well. We looked at him and his relationship with Father Martin Keppler.
He hands Foyle a folder.
Foyle: What's this?
Waterlow: It's Keppler's file. It seemed almost too obvious, a German priest living right here in Hastings. But he's been thoroughly checked. Came to England in '37. He's a Category C alien. Cleared at every level.
Foyle looks through the file, then looks up at Waterlow. He sets the file down and takes the photo of Hoch Feldhausen out of his pocket.
Foyle: You know what this is?
Waterlow takes the photo.
Waterlow: That's Hoch Feldhausen. This is the photograph that Henry Scott took the day he d*ed.
Foyle: Mmm.
Waterlow: It should never have left the building. He should have been searched on the way out, but security here is lamentable.
Foyle: So I've spotted. According to this... have you read this?
Waterlow: I've skimmed through it.
Foyle: Keppler was, er, there for five years.
He shows Waterlow a page in the file.
Waterlow: So that's why he ran out. The village was going to be bombed. Scott knew about it and must have gone off to warn Keppler. Is that the reason he was k*lled?
Foyle: Should be a corresponding photograph to that, is that right?
Waterlow: Yes, there certainly is.
Waterlow sets the two photos side by side and looks at them through a stereoscope.
Waterlow: Well, I can see why the RAF would be interested in this one. There's a rail head and a fuel dump.
Foyle: May I see?
Waterlow: Please.
Foyle takes his place at the stereoscope.
Waterlow: Cutting the supply lines is absolutely crucial right now. We're talking about the last phase of the w*r and targets like this are top priority. It must be one of the few places in Jerryland that we haven't plastered yet.
Foyle lifts his head after studying the photo.
St Jude's church. Foyle walks through the churchyard towards the building.
Inside. He walks through the seemingly empty church. Keppler steps out behind him.
Keppler: Mr Foyle. I thought I might see you again.
Foyle: You know, I thought the same.
Keppler: You are still on your investigation?
Foyle: I am.
Keppler: How is it progressing?
Foyle: So far, so good.
Keppler: I don't see that I can help you any further.
Foyle: Well, I'm sure you can, 'cause I'm arresting you for the murders of Detective Chief Superintendent Meredith and Henry Scott and for the attempted m*rder of Detective Sergeant Milner. Do you have anything to say?
Keppler is silent for a moment.
Keppler: What on Earth are you talking about?
Foyle: Do you have anything else to say?
Keppler: You must forgive me if, if, if I take a moment. Ridiculous as this is, this is still something of a shock.
Foyle: Is that it?
Keppler: You are making a very grave mistake, Mr Foyle. This man, er, detective... I never even met him. Why would I want to m*rder him?
Foyle: You didn't. The intention was to k*ll Milner. It's Meredith's tragedy that you got the wrong man.
Keppler: The question still applies. Why would I want to k*ll Mr Milner?
Foyle: Because you knew it was only a matter of time before the lie you told him would be uncovered.
Keppler: I told no lies to him. On the contrary, at every turn, I offered him my considerable help.
Foyle brings out the photograph of Hoch Feldhausen.
Foyle: Any idea where this is?
He hands it to Keppler.
Keppler: Can't say I recognise it.
Foyle: It's where you preached for five years.
Keppler: No, I don't think so.
Foyle: Well, it is. According to the statement you made on your file.
Keppler: Where is it?
Foyle: It's written on the back.
Keppler: Ah. Hoch Feldhausen. So it is. Forgive me. I, I've rarely seen it from this angle.
Foyle: Not exactly Munich, is it?
Keppler: Where did you get this?
Foyle: It's the photograph Henry Scott had on him when he d*ed. It's the reason you k*lled him.
Keppler: I did not k*ll him. I was his friend. The best friend he could have had.
Foyle: Yeah. And he believed that, until he realised that even you had betrayed him.
Keppler: No. No, no. Henry took his own life. He was a, a deeply troubled young man.
Foyle: Oh, well, he certainly was when he saw that.
Flashback to Henry looking through the stereoscope.
Adam: I want a word.
Henry: Not now.
Adam: Yes, now, Henry, damn you.
Henry: No, no, no.
Adam: I said I want to talk to you.
Henry: Oh, go to hell, Everitt!
He snatches up the photo.
Cut back to the church.
Foyle: And realised it was exactly the same place where you'd told him you'd preached for five years.
Keppler: Yes, I did tell him that.
Foyle: But not what you told Milner. It's in his notes that you told him that you'd preached in Munich and had never heard of Hoch Feldhausen.
Keppler: A misunderstanding, perhaps, and certainly not intentional, and why would I lie about this?
Foyle: Well, because being a priest in Hoch Feldhausen is, erm, more difficult than pretty much anywhere else, I'd have said, Mr Keppler.
Keppler: And why would you have said that, Mr Foyle?
Foyle: Because there's no church. Which is exactly what he saw when he looked through the stereoscope and understood you to be the fraud that you are.
Flashback to Henry at the stereoscope.
Church. Keppler sits down and sighs.
Foyle: So since you're, er, nothing like any priest I've ever met, what exactly are you, Mr Keppler?
Keppler: I did study in a seminary before the w*r. But, um, I was never in fact ordained.
Foyle: What a relief. A spy?
Keppler: A patriot. But, yes, I am employed by the Abwehr, reporting on troop movements along the coast. As you can imagine, I was rather surprised to find a major map-making centre right here under my pastoral care.
Foyle: I'm sure.
Keppler: It was, erm, a foolish oversight, choosing a village that had no church.
He holds up the photo.
Keppler: I would be interested to know how you discovered it.
He stands up.
Foyle: His last words, before he met you, of course, were to one of his more committed friends.
Flashback to Henry leaving.
Jane: Henry? What is it? What's the matter?
Henry: It's not there.
Jane: What isn't there? Where are you going?
Henry: The church.
Cut back to the church.
Foyle: He wasn't going here, as you well know. He was referring to the church in Germany where you were supposed to have preached.
Keppler: He knew I was at Cranville. He telephoned me there. He was hysterical. I arranged to meet him here and we walked together into Garton Wood.
Flashback to Keppler arguing with Henry as they walked through the trees.
Keppler (voiceover): I'd hoped it might be possible to spare him. If I could have persuaded him that he was mistaken, I would not have harmed him. But no, there was no other way.
Henry looks back at Keppler, then turns away. Keppler strikes him over the back of the head.
Church.
Keppler: And with his past history, I thought no one would question his apparent su1c1de, but, ha, your Mr Milner. He is very perceptive.
Foyle: No other way for him, either?
Keppler: I admit, it was the act of a desperate man.
Flashback to Keppler aiming the r*fle.
Meredith: Damn! I've left my fountain pen inside.
He walks in front of Milner just as the r*fle fires.
Church.
Keppler: It didn't go my way. None of this has.
Foyle: God is not on your side. Are you surprised?
Keppler: You're telling me that you think he's on yours? Whatever you may think, I am not an evil man. I have been doing my duty, in exactly the same way as you have been doing yours. God does not come into it.
Foyle: Semantics, Mr Keppler. Not interested. Shall we go?
Keppler: I don't think so.
He draws a p*stol and aims it at Foyle.
Keppler: Have you come here alone?
Foyle: No. I came into the church alone out of respect. For the church, that is.
Keppler: You have men waiting outside?
Foyle: Of course.
Keppler: But even so, you are my enemy. And I have nothing to lose. If I am arrested, I will be ex*cuted. I am a dead man.
Foyle: I suggest you make your peace. I'll wait outside.
Keppler is still aiming at him. Foyle turns his back on him and walks away.
A single g*nsh*t. Foyle turns and sees Keppler lying dead on the church floor.
Police station. Foyle and Milner are walking through together.
Milner: If you don't mind me asking, sir, are you intending to stay?
Foyle: Well, might as well see the w*r out. How about you? You were gonna leave, weren't you?
They stop outside his office.
Milner: I think I might have second thoughts.
Foyle: Good.
Brooke steps out behind them.
Brooke: Mr Foyle.
Foyle: Mmm?
Brooke: Someone to see you, sir.
As Foyle walks back towards the reception area, Sam steps out, back in her MTC uniform.
Sam: Here I am, sir. All present and correct.
Foyle: All present and correct for what?
Sam: Well, aren't you going to need a driver, sir? Er, I've resigned.
Foyle: That's a bit presumptuous, isn't it?
Sam: Well, absolutely, sir. I presumed you couldn't manage without me.
Foyle: Well, look...
He makes her wait for a moment.
Foyle: Get the car. I'll be out in five minutes.
He walks off. Sam exchanges smiles with Brooke, then heads out. Milner goes into his office, and Brooke approaches Foyle's. He closes the door, revealing that the wooden plate with Meredith's name has been removed to show Foyle's again.
Brooke: That's better.
He walks away.
06x01 - Plan of att*ck
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.