06x05 - The Face of the Enemy

Episode transcripts for the TV show, "Father Brown". Aired: 14 January 2013 – present.*
Watch/Buy Amazon


British detective series that follows a Catholic Priest who solves crimes.
Post Reply

06x05 - The Face of the Enemy

Post by bunniefuu »

'Providing a much-needed window
for Northern Rhodesian painters,

the Lusaka Art Society held a
most interesting exhibition.

It had a completely comprehensive nature,

ranging from this most striking
sculpture by Miss Jean Warrington

to this vivid depiction
of an African village

by Lady Felicia Montague.

And here she is now.

Patron of the Lusaka Art Society,

Lady Felicia's a pretty picture herself

and always the epitome
of grace and decorum.

One thing's for certain,

his Excellency, the
Governor Montgomery Montague

is a lucky man to have such
a beautiful and devoted wife.

Why do you always do that?

Because it makes you laugh.

- Stop it.
- It makes you look happy.

Have you thought any more about...?

It's all I can think about.

And?

You're asking me to give up my whole life.

My marriage. Everything.

To live happily ever after...

.. more or less.

You're mad.

What would everybody think?

This isn't about what people think.

- And Monty?
- You're just an accessory to him.

I am not an accessory!

That's why you need
someone who can see that.

Don't make the same mistake twice.

How dare you suggest my
marriage was a mistake.

Do you love him? Are you happy?

Felicia?

You're as naive and reckless
now as you were ten years ago.

Maybe that's why I turned you down.

You turned me down
because you were scared,

like you are now.

We love each other, don't we?

Don't we?

Then call me an old romantic

but I don't think anything
should get in the way of that.

I know what I'm asking.

This could be the most terrifying
thing you've ever done. But...

.. it could also make you the
happiest you've ever been.

Yes.

- Yes? - Yes. - Yes!

I love you.

Ooooh!

Uh, uh, not yet!

What's the camera for?

Homes and Garden Magazine

are holding a "Queen of
the Kitchen" competition.

Oh, maybe I could pose for it.

You can't boil an egg.

- Father, would you do the honours?
- Of course.

Oooh, very good.

Very regal.

Finished?

Yes. Now you may eat.

Typical. We show up after all this time

and the first thing we see
is you gorging yourselves!

Sid! Lady Felicia!

Don't all talk at once.
It's not a pretty picture.

Oooh, I've missed these!

- Father Brown.
- You may have two.

Why didn't you tell us you were coming?

It was a last minute decision.

We felt like a change
from the Rhodesian climate.

And there's nothing quite
like the Kembleford rain.

For your information, the
weather here has been beautiful.

Oh, every day in Kembleford
is like a day in paradise.

That was actually quite convincing.

Thank you! I'm thinking
of becoming an actress.

No!

So there I was, in the jungle...

- In the garden.
- .. face-to-face with this lion...

- Cub. - It was not a cub.
- How big are we talking?

- Big enough it could've ripped me to shreds.
- So, cat-sized then?

- It was bigger than a cat.
- But smaller than a fox.

- A most magnificent gift.
- Ah...

I used to keep it for best, but now
I never go anywhere without it.

- Thank you.
- It makes you look positively regal.

Oh!

You do know that this is the exact
same handbag that the Duchess of...

Windsor.

Well, you have mentioned
it a couple of times.

Oh!

So how long have we got you?

I'm not entirely sure
yet, which reminds me...

.. I have a train to catch.

- But we've hardly seen you.
- I'm meeting Monty in London.

He's there on business, but I
should be back tomorrow. Sid...

She runs me ragged.

Yes, when you're not lounging by
the pool with a beer in your hand.

It gets hot out there.

You've got to keep cool.
It's health and safety.

Is everything all right?

Absolutely.

Ta-ta.

From the look of undisguised
loathing on your face,

I take it you remember me.

- What do you want?
- A moment of your time.

I'm catching a train.

- To see your husband?
- Yes.

To tell him about your
lover, Benedict Northam?

I don't know what you're talking about.

"Call me an old romantic,

"but I don't think anything should
stand in the way of our love.

- "I understand this would be the
most terrifying thing..." - Stop.

It was very moving. I almost shed a tear.

I'm not surprised you said yes.

You said it several times, in fact,

during the rest of your stay
in his room that afternoon.

- Would you like to see
the transcript? - Why?

I'll explain everything in the car.

Trust me, it's in your best interests.

A Soviet Spy?

We've been tracking him for months.
His diplomatic missions are a cover.

So why haven't you had him arrested?

Two weeks ago, we
discovered an infiltrator

at the Ministry of Defence
-- one of our scientists.

Under interrogation, he confessed
to photographing certain blueprints.

We believe that Benedict will take
possession of that film tomorrow

at an arts fundraiser
he's holding at his house.

You want me to be YOUR spy.

Duplicity is one of your
strengths, is it not?

If you see an opportunity,

you're to replace the original
film with this duplicate.

It contains misinformation,

it'll have them chasing
their tails for months.

Bring the original to me.

Benedict is not a traitor.

There's only one way for you to find out.

You can't blackmail me
into doing your dirty work

every time it suits you.

My dear, the stakes for you are far higher

- than your reputation and marriage.
- Meaning?

Meaning that if you don't
co-operate, it might give us

cause to suspect you of
collusion with the enemy.

I would hate to see your pretty
face distended at the end of a rope.

Now, be a good girl, do your job.

If not for me, then for Queen and country.

- Yes? - I'm looking
for Benedict Northam.

Have you got an appointment?

Appointment?

Felicia!

I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow.

Surprise!

- Have I come at a bad time?
- No, not at all.

Sir, we still have to finalise
the details for the fundraiser.

The guest lists, the catering...

Well, I rely entirely on
your judgement, Ms Winslow.

I suddenly find myself preoccupied.

Yes, of course.

My private secretary.

(She's madly in love with me.)

Naturally.

Not here.

You haven't told Monty.

He was tied up in meetings.
He couldn't see me.

Well, send him a telegram.

"I'm leaving you. Stop.
Marriage over. Stop."

This isn't a joke.

I'm sorry.

Oh, what's wrong?

Nothing.

I can always tell when your
smile doesn't reach your eyes.

I don't know whether to
find that romantic or...

Or what?

Unsettling that you observe me so closely.

I can't help myself.

Cold feet?

How do I know that I can trust you?

I would never betray you.

Well, those are just words.
They don't mean anything.

And what about that?
Does that mean anything?

If you think one kiss
can just magically...

- All night?
- Well, the bed's not been slept in.

He's got her up to no
good, I guarantee it.

I say call the police.

Police? What are you all doing here?

Where have you been?

London. I told you.

We were worried about you.

I saw you leave the station
with Daniel Whittaker.

Lady Felicia, what's going on?

It's a personal matter, Father.

- Oh, between you and MI5?
- Are you in danger?

Of course not.

Then why do you look so uneasy?

I appreciate your concern, all of you,

but I would ask that you
don't pry any further.

We are not prying.

We are trying to help.

Why? So you can gossip
it all over Kembleford?

I'm sorry. It's been a trying morning.

But I don't need your help

and, at the risk of sounding
rude, I'd rather be alone.

I have a fundraiser to attend this evening

and I need... 40 winks.

I'll go alone. I'll be less conspicuous.

Says the man in a cassock.

Well, I'm not waiting in the
car if my aunt is in danger.

Me neither, in case you need some muscle.

- Muscle?!
- Well, in that case,

I'm not staying here like a lost lemon.

I'm so glad you could make it.

You know how fond I am of the arts.

Three more donations,
almost £500 in total.

Splendid.

Just excuse me for a moment.

You can't keep your eyes off him, can you?

How do you know Mr Northam?

I guarantee, it'll be worth
a fortune after I'm dead.

Oh, it's a shame it isn't
true while you're alive.

Well?

That's not really any of your business.

This man is one of the greatest
sculptors I have ever met,

and yet he insists on giving me the
ugliest creation he can muster.

What can I say? I'm a sadist.

I do hope you'll give it pride of place.

Put this in my study,

under a blanket!

What are you doing here?

- We were concerned for your safety.
- Then please leave.

So you are in trouble?

- Let's just get you out of here.
- I am perfectly safe!

I know Daniel Whittaker.
He's a man on a crusade.

That makes him dangerous.

I don't disagree that he
is a loathsome human being,

but this is more complicated
than you understand.

He's blackmailing you.

Will you all please just... go away!

- We cannot leave her here.
- Agreed.

We'll split up, keep an eye on.

Thank you so much for coming.

Ah, another tally, Ms Winslow?

I know who you are.

Excuse me?

I've known for months.

- I don't know what
you're talking... - A spy.

An enemy agent.

Can I help it if I accidentally

overhear your telephone conversations?

And what exactly is it you
think you've heard, Ms Winslow?

It's not me you have to worry about.

It's her...

.. your floozy.

She's after whatever it is
you've got hidden in that statue.

She's betraying you.

I want to join you.

Your cause.

I was trying to help!

Who are you working for?

The Russians? MI5?

So it's true.

You're a traitor!

What were you looking for
in that statue? Answer me.

What are you looking for?

Was it this?

Tell me who you're working for.

Or what? You'll sh**t?

Don't test me, Felicia.

Answer the question.

MI5.

I'm afraid this is Mr
Northam's private study.

I won't be a moment.

I just wish to ensure my
glorious work of art is displayed

with the prominence it so richly deserves.

Who in MI5?

Daniel Whittaker.

What in the blazes... My
God, man, what are you doing?

I tried to stop him.

Is this some kind of joke?

It's not a joke.

Put that thing down or
I'll call the police.

I'm afraid I can't do that.

Ms Winslow, please wait outside and
make sure no-one else comes in.

Yes, Mr Northam.

What's going on?

He's a Soviet Spy.

What?

Alfred...

No sign of her.

Let's check outside.

Lady Felicia.

Excuse me.

I'll call an ambulance.

No, it's not my blood.
We need to leave. Now.

Sidney, my bag...

Excuse me. Excuse me.

Oh, my Lord!

- I'm all right.
- Your head is bleeding.

We are taking you to hospital.

- No! - Mrs McCarthy, please find
Bunty. We are going home. - Yes.

Keep this safe.

Alfred Lane.

He was a sculptor.

Is this one of his works?

I believe so.

Looks like someone wasn't too fond of it.

I doubt that was the motive
for his m*rder, Sergeant.

Oh, I don't know, sir.

You know what some of
those art critics are like.

Mr Whittaker!

Sergeant. Daniel Whittaker, MI5. I'm
taking charge of this investigation.

Excuse me?

It's not here. Search the
house and everyone in it.

No-one's to leave.

- Would you mind telling me what's going on?
- What happened here?

I'm the one asking the questions.

Either cooperate, or I'll have you back
in uniform before you know what's hit you.

Do you understand?

Yes, sir.

And you are?

Benedict Northam's personal secretary.

How personal?

Our relationship is purely professional.

And where is your employer now?

The last time I saw him he
was... with a lady friend.

Felicia Montague? Bring her in.

You think she did it?

Well, as far as I'm concerned, she's
your prime suspect. Now find her.

Sir.

What's on it?

Something worth k*lling for.

What happened in that study?

Who k*lled that man?

I don't know.

I can't...

How cosy.

We're just having a nightcap.

We're looking for Lady Felicia.

Well, she's in Northern Rhodesia.

Apparently not.

We've checked the Montague
House and the presbytery...

And thought perhaps she
could be hiding here.

Hiding?

She's wanted, for m*rder.

Holy Mother!

Well, that is surprising,
but I'm sure Lady Felicia...

She's the prime suspect, according to MI5.

We haven't seen her.

Witnesses say there was
a priest at the party.

Lot of us about.

At parties?

You'd be surprised.

If she contacts you, you are to
inform us immediately. Understand?

I'll show you out.

Whittaker wants that film.

I have been trying to talk her
out of it, but will she listen?

Nice dress, Aunt Fliss.

Not quite my style, but...

Humble apologies if my wardrobe isn't
up to your haute couture standard.

It's quite lovely,

and has the distinct advantage
of not being covered in blood.

Thank you, Bunty.

Talk you out of what?

I've decided to give Whittaker the film.

Once he has it, my part
in his scheme is over.

You don't know that for certain.

Do you remember what happened
to me? Locked up. False charges.

You can not trust him.

Perhaps I should speak to him first.

That's exactly what I said.

I appreciate your concern, but
I've involved you all long enough.

I got myself into this.
I'll get myself out.

- I think you're forgetting
something. - What?

You're not in this alone.

Keep an eye on that. I won't be long.

Father Brown! I was
wondering when you'd turn up.

I wouldn't want to let you down.

If I recall, you were rather
helpful during our last encounter.

- Perhaps you'll prove just as
useful this time. - I do hope so.

Where is she?

Haven't the foggiest.

I'm going to assume you're lying.

That would be uncharitable.

Does she have it?

Have what?

And if you get what you want...?

Then it's all over. Lady
Felicia is a free woman.

As opposed to what she
is now? Your puppet?

Then cut the strings,
Father. Give me that film.

Excuse me, but I've had enough.

I've been here all
night, as have the guests.

We've been searched and
questioned. What more do you want?

All right, let them go. Except for you.

What?

I'd like to discuss your relationship with

Mr Northam at greater length.

Wait in the drawing room.

This is unacceptable.

Feel free to contact our
complaints department.

We haven't finished.

Lady Felicia's innocent.
That's all you need to know.

Innocent of m*rder,
perhaps, but little else.

Is that what this is
about? Your judgment of her?

It's about protecting this country.

At any cost?

There are casualties in every w*r, Father.

Yes. I know.

I was there, standing next to
some of the most honourable men

I've ever met.

Are you questioning my honour?

No, I'm questioning your motive.

Are you an honourable
officer doing his duty

or are you a zealot, cursed with
tunnel-vision, blinding you...

Lessons on zealotry
from a Catholic priest.

I do hope you see the irony.

Blinding you to the humanity in others.

Then I'll leave it to
you, shall I, to scream,

"Oh, the humanity, the humanity..."

when the Soviets drop
nuclear bombs on our cities?

You're terrified.

We should all be terrified.

There's nothing better for the nerves

than a good, strong cup of tea.

And a nab of whisky, I find.

- Ah!
- OK.

Father?

Don't take another step.

I'm not a spy. At least,
not the way you think I am.

Then who are you?

I say we turn him in.

For once, maybe Inspector
Mallory will come in handy.

I work for a secret department
within the Ministry of Defence.

Even Whittaker doesn't know about it.

It's the truth.

Or a lie from a cold-blooded traitor
who just m*rder*d an innocent man.

Alfred was my friend.

The one you were pointing
the g*n at? As you were me?

- I didn't know whether I could trust you.
- Well, the feeling's mutual.

- I didn't k*ll him.
- Then who did?

It was my devoted secretary.

No!

Don't worry, Mr Northam.

Give that to me.

Don't worry. I'll take care of everything.

- Lara!
- We're in this together.

Felicia.

Oh...

I was going to go after her, when...

When you realised that I had this.

If there's one thing I
know about Whittaker,

he uses the oldest tricks in the book.

I couldn't be sure whether you
had the original, but you have.

It is, right?

Is that why you're here? For this?

Or for me?

Both.

Don't listen to a word he says.

I know a player when I see one.

I wouldn't betray my country. And
I wouldn't betray you, either.

I love you both.

Mr Whittaker?

Wait there.

- Where do you think you're going?
- I'm a busy woman. You have my details.

- I saw you take the film from the planter.
- Your handbag, please.

- Who are you working for?
- I already told you. Benedict Northam.

But stealing government
secrets for your boss --

is that within your job description?

Loyalty is everything
in a personal assistant.

Go ahead.

Take it to him.

We promise not to follow you.

What aren't you telling me?

Tell me!

The film's a fake.

- What are you doing?
- Saving your life.

Is this true?

- I don't know what he's talking about.
- They were switched.

You stole a duplicate.

Where's the real one?

Get in the car.

Stay back.

Well, even if he does turn out
to be a traitor, I have to say,

he is gorgeous.

Thank you, Bunty, that's
just what I needed to hear.

Obviously, I can't condone anyone
who would betray their wedding vows,

but when he declared his love for
you, it was like Bogart and Bacall.

- Oh!
- I do not believe this!

This guy flashes his lashes and you
all fall for it hook, line and sinker!

- May we have a moment alone? - No,
you can't! - It's all right, Sidney.

I'm hunting the leader of a spy ring.

No-one knows his identity other
than he's a businessman with

ties to the Soviet Union. I need
the film to infiltrate his network.

Without that, I...

I was about to give up
my whole life for a lie!

How I feel about you isn't a lie.

I've loved you...

Oh, spare me the flowery declaration!

We both know why you're here
-- you just said so yourself.

How important is it to you?
Enough to rip it from my hand?

- And what if I didn't let go? Would
you b*at it from me? - I wouldn't...

How do I know? How do I
know anything about you?

I would never force anything from you.

- I want to believe you.
- But?

You lie for a living.

You all right?

- Hello.
- Mrs McCarthy.

- Father Brown!
- Please listen carefully.

I'm being held at gunpoint
by Mr Northam's secretary.

Please put Lady Felicia on the telephone.

He's being held at gunpoint.
He wants to talk to you.

Father Brown?

The film in exchange for your
friend's life. Understand?

- Yes. - There's a valley
south of Hambleston.

- A crop of woods at the
peak. Know it? - Yes.

Come alone.

Thank you.

- You all right?
- Give it to me.

Lara.

You found me!

- I never lost you from sight.
- She stole the film!

I got it back for you.

- I saved your mission.
- You risked everything for me.

I k*lled for you.

I'm sorry if I ever
underappreciated your talents, Lara.

I believe that belongs to me, too.

Wait a minute... How did you find me?

How did you know where I...

- Traitor.
- I don't understand.

No! You love me!

I hate to be the one to break it to
you, Miss Winslow, but you are deluded.

No!!!

Don't sh**t! He's British Intelligence!

No!

Don't worry -- it's a flesh wound.

He's no good for
interrogation if he's dead.

Find him.

How did you find us?

Mr Whittaker had us combing the
area. I spotted Miss Winslow's car.

- I believe I was the one who spotted her car.
- If you say so, sir.

- Inspector Mallory, arrest this woman for
offences under the Official Secrets Act. - What?

That is entirely unnecessary.

I have no doubt that in the ensuing
trial, your husband and the world

will be stunned to discover all
of your dirty little secrets.

- No-one is to see her, Padre.
- Orders from above, Father.

We found Lara Winslow. sh*t
in the head. Film stolen.

I think we can safely assume
this is Northam's work.

Naturally, I will be pressing for

- the maximum sentence for Lady Felicia.
- Lady Felicia is innocent.

- She passed top secret information.
- No, she didn't.

- This is the original. I switched
it for a duplicate. - Why on Earth...

In case anyone tried to steal it.

So...

Lady Felicia.

You'll cut the strings?

If the film is genuine.

Then again, she pushed Northam
out of my line of fire.

- He only escaped because of her.
- She was there because of you.

Sorry, Father. No dice. A judge
and jury will decide her fate.

You've got what you
wanted! Now let her go.

It would be the honourable thing to do.

Is this the part where you tell
me I'm lacking in humanity?

- I never said that.
- I will not be patronised.

- I was not trying to patronise you.
- Then what? - Trying to understand.

Understand?

We see things only through
the clouded lens of our own

perspective, then we are doomed.

Then understand this --
we are fighting a w*r!

- Toby James.
- What?

Young man I knew during the w*r.

- I haven't got time for your old w*r stories.
- Sweet, gentle boy.

Didn't belong there. None of us did.

And then when he fell... for
one brief, terrible moment,

the only thing I felt in my
heart was hatred for the enemy.

So I understand, Mr
Whittaker. I really do.

But... then I thought about
the boy that had k*lled him.

Same age, probably.

How scared he was.

And then that hatred left me.

I do believe that we can be so much
better than our basest feelings.

Don't you?

Welcome home!

- Oh, thank you! This is lovely!
- So no more trouble!

- No more secret missions.
- And no more dramas.

I'm headed back to Northern
Rhodesia with Monty next week.

- No more dramas.
- Oh, how dull!

Kembleford is never dull!

Which reminds me,

Sid, I have a very long list of
jobs for you at the presbytery.

- Oh, thank you very much, Father.
- Any news of...

Well, I'm sure he's all right.

He looked like the kind of man who
knew how to take care of himself.

- Telegram, my lady.
- Excuse me, Mrs M.

Thank you, Hornby.

Is your answer still yes?

Did you k*ll Lara?

No.

The film's gone. Mission's a failure.

I feel at least partially
responsible. I'm sorry.

Is that why you've come? To apologise?

I came because I had to see you.

You still haven't answered my question.

This might sound strange, but...

.. you've always been my path not taken.

It's tortured me, I think, without
my even realising it, and now...

It doesn't.

Let's just say the reality was a lot
more dangerous than I'd anticipated.

- I'd give it all up.
- And do what?

- A desk job?
- Yes.

- Why not?
- Because you'd hate it!

- And eventually, you'd hate me.
- Never!

Oh, I'm no picnic!

And you love what you do.

You live for it.

Admit it.

I can't take that away from you.

Felicia...

My answer is no.

It has to be.

Let's just remember this for what it was.

What it is.

Something beautiful.

So beautiful...

that it couldn't last.

So beautiful that we could only
hold on to it for a moment.

But that even that... even
the briefest of moments...

Can last a lifetime.

Comrade.
Post Reply