ANNOUNCER: (ON RADIO) This is the BBC Home Service.
On orders from the German Army,
the curfew will be relaxed from Monday
to celebrate German-Soviet Friendship Week.
In anticipation of the celebrations, one of the few surviving Spitfires
will be presented to Soviet General Zhukov
on the Mall today by German air ace Helmut Vik.
(MAN PANTING) Flight Marshall Géring commented
that Count Von Vik's fifty-eight kills was a decisive factor
in the battle for air supremacy over Britain,
that finally brought peace to Europe. (PANTING CONTINUES)
(SIGHS)
(GUN FIRES)
(SOLDIERS CLAMOURING IN GERMAN)
(BREATHING HEAVILY)
(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)
(CAR HORNS HONKING)
(SIGHS) I have to go.
No. No, no, no. Don't rush off.
It's the first whole night we've had together in ages.
(SIGHS) Believe me, I'd love to stay.
Then, let's not go in.
With that flu going around.
(CHUCKLES SOFTLY)
- What, both of us? - Uh-huh.
I hate that place now. (LIGHTER FLICKS)
It's very plush here.
Who else uses these rooms?
(SIGHS) A Reichspropagandaleiter.
- What if they come back? - We'll be shot. (CHUCKLES)
He's visiting the south-west control zone.
Aren't you the clever one?
If I quit, would you still see me?
Of course.
- But don't. - That's all right for you.
Archer of the Yard. All that power.
(SCOFFS)
Don't talk daft, Sylvia. (WINDOW OPENS)
For God's sake! Get away from the window.
(GASPS) Come in.
Why?
Don't you like it? (CLOSES WINDOW)
It's covering my modesty.
- Doesn't it do the same for you? - Don't be a bloody fool.
(TELEPHONE RINGING)
(RINGING CONTINUES)
Ja.
(SIGHS)
All right. Have you got the murder bag?
Good. (HANGS UP)
(SIGHS)
Harry Woods.
A death above an antiques shop.
Shepherd Market.
Take that thing off, will you?
(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
(LIGHTER FLICKS)
Yes, Harry?
Do you get a thrill out of taking stupid risks, huh, Doug?
Not very subtle, what you're doing with Sylvia.
How do you know what we get up to?
I don't know what's got into you.
- Then, just drive, Harry. - Look, all I'm saying is,
not on your own doorstep,
not with your own secretary, for Christ's sake!
In the Fritz-Ritz.
Those herberts might act as if they like you just now.
They could turn on you any time.
Mind your own business, Sergeant.
Listen, if you have to have it off, what about that, uh,
big-titted German bird in the Waffen-SS in Hazel?
Hmm? (LAUGHING)
She puts it about a bit.
I thought you disapproved of consorting with the Germans.
What's the use.
What do the Resistance hope to achieve with this?
He gets strung up, and his family sent to a labour camp.
Defiance.
Nothing wrong with a bit of that.
What if the Russki had been killed instead, huh?
That'd put the dampers in the Friendship Ceremony, wouldn't it?
Yeah.
HARRY: I remember I took you around here when it was my beat.
Young and innocent you were.
Brand-new diploma, not a clue in the world.
You're choking me up, Harry. (LAUGHS)
Nah, I'm just saying, when it was my beat, it was nice.
- No, it wasn't. - Ah, maybe not.
Girls were always friendly.
Well, friendship's not always free around here, is it?
- Hiya, love. - Hello, Sergeant.
What's going on here?
WOMAN: Well, you ought to know, you're working with them.
ARCHER: Ought to know what?
The herberts have decided we need to be examined by their doctors.
SOLDIER: Go back in the line!
ARCHER: It's true.
They're turning the whole area into an official Wehrmacht brothel.
HARRY: To the victor the spoils, eh?
You won't be able to come around here any more, Harry.
Yeah, very funny.
REPORTER: Inspector Archer?
(FLASH CLICKS)
Sir, is it true the SS are using the police to chase Resistance fighters?
It's nonsense.
We're non-political, and we always will be.
- Morning, Denham. DENHAM: Sir.
- Is that the way to the roof? - Yes, sir.
Morning.
ARCHER: Sorry to disturb, Doc.
(ARCHER CHUCKLES)
Fancy some petrol coupons, Harry?
You could get to Timbuktu on this lot.
ARCHER: Looks like our antique dealer had a couple of sidelines.
Remember that gang that murdered the warehouse manager in Fulham?
They were forging.
HARRY: Luftwaffe petrol coupons. It could be the same mob.
(LIGHTER FLICKS) Well, Doc?
First bullet in the chest, second one into the top of the lung.
Death, probably instantaneous.
ARCHER: Has the pathologist been?
No, he's probably stuck at some roadblock.
That Resistance shooting caused a bit of a stink.
ARCHER: Good teeth.
There's blood in the mouth.
Well, he probably hit his face when he fell.
ARCH ER: What's this?
Cataracts?
- Was he blind? - Uh, I couldn't tell you.
They're not like any cataracts I've seen.
ARCHER: Fine clothes.
He's not short of money. Though they could fit better.
Maybe had an argument with his tailor, huh?
Hmm.
HARRY: Ooh! (GUNSHOTS IN DISTANCE)
It's worth a small fortune.
(HARRY CLEARS THROAT)
(ARCHER STRAINING)
ARCHER: What have you got, Harry?
Eight pounds, three shillings. Keys.
Railway ticket, monthly.
Return half from London to Bringle Sands.
Yeah. Peter Thomas.
ID issued at Kingston Record Office.
Kingston... That's the one the Resistance burned down.
- Yeah. ARCHER: Convenient.
Can't be traced.
Care to hazard a time of death, Doctor?
DOCTOR: Uh, between six and seven this morning.
Harry, would you bag up these ashes, please?
Yeah. I'll have a word with the neighbours.
Thanks, Doc.
(DISTANT GUNSHOT)
(SCRAPING)
(PANEL SLIDES OPEN)
(SHUTS PANEL)
(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
(GUNSHOT) (MAN SHOUTING IN GERMAN)
WOMAN: You should get your men under control.
It's disgusting, what you're doing.
Ahh!
(BELL JINGLES)
(JAZZ MUSIC PLAYING) (INDISTINCT CHATTER)
Do you come here often with Peter Thomas?
I'm Chief Superintendent Douglas Archer.
And you are?
Madam...
Miss. I'd rather not be mistaken for a "Madam."
It's Barbara Barga, The New York Times.
Have you been in London long?
BARBARA: I arrived 10 days ago on the inaugural Lufthansa flight.
With Goebbels and Géring.
You must be important. (CHUCKLES SOFTLY)
Yet, you just walked away from the scene of a crime.
I saw you.
What is the crime?
Well, from the way you'd disappeared, I'd thought you'd guessed.
The menu, sir.
Foul play? Isn't that what you call it over here?
You don't seem surprised.
No.
But I hoped it wasn't.
For Peter's sake.
What was it'?
Suicide?
He was shot.
ARCHER: Any idea why?
He was what we call a "hustler." Who knows what deals he was into?
And what was your relationship?
He was helping me on a piece about Americans who chose to stay in London.
Year of occupation, that kind of thing.
Poor old Peter.
I ran out of film yesterday, he said he'd get me a roll,
but I guess everything in the apartment is considered evidence now.
So you walked away to avoid getting involved?
Didn't do me much good.
Well, that outfit's always going to get you noticed.
I'm not sure all policemen would be so observant.
(MAN AND WOMAN CONVERSING IN GERMAN)
BARBARA: I guess dealers like him will be rubbing their hands
at the thought of all the new stuff
that will come from the fighting in the north.
You are well-informed.
Funny. I'm not hungry any more.
ARCHER: I'll need to see you again.
Where can I reach you?
The Dorchester.
For some reason, I never got invited to the re-opening.
(CHUCKLES) It's not what it was.
Nothing is.
I don't know.
Some things can improve with age.
(SIGHS)
What is it'?
I've been summoned...
(INHALES SHARPLY) ...in there.
Do you know why?
You tell me.
Thank you, Jim.
HARRY: Hi, Doug. - Hi.
Sir?
Thank you, Jimmy.
So, what have you been up to?
I'm not entirely sure.
What did you get?
Uh, well, according to the neighbours,
Peter Thomas was involved with some Luftwaffe Fe/dwebel.
Big guy, Spectacles.
Probably from quartermaster's depot, Marylebone.
Supplied them with all the goodies for their parties.
You know, drugs, painted ladies.
Got to send his description to the Military Police.
If the Military are involved, they take over.
- Puts us in a spot, doesn't it? - Eh?
ARCHER: That antiques shop is a Resistance safe house.
The transmitter aerial hidden in the ceiling.
Well, if it is Resistance, that becomes an SS job,
not Military Police.
HARRY: Either way, it's not our responsibility.
Aye. Well, I'll just send the file.
What do you want to do with these ashes?
We'll keep hold of those for now, I think.
What is it'?
That look. I've seen it a thousand times.
What?
A woman, this morning.
Well, she was headed for Peter Thomas' place,
until she saw the bobbies outside, then made herself scarce.
Well, let's get a description of her, eh?
I managed to talk to her.
American. A journalist.
And a liar.
ARCHER: She claims she was after Thomas for film,
but someone like that can get that sort of stuff easily...
- Yeah. -...from the US Embassy
or a German press bureau.
She didn't need the black market. (TELEPHONE RINGING)
Work on your debrief for Kellermann.
Yes, sir, immediately.
I was just on my way up.
(GERMAN ACCENT) Right up my arse.
(SPEAKING GERMAN)
KELLERMANN: Superintendent! Come in, come in.
These gentlemen are from the Signum Magazine in Berlin.
(SPEAKS GERMAN)
Photo?
Could you and SS GruppenfUhrer Kellermann
step behind the table and look at some notes or a map?
The new flag for the event with our Russian friends.
- Do you like it? - Photo.
I think they've made the Cross of St. George a little too small.
Hmm?
- Could you point at it? KELLERMANN: Yeah.
Both of you. Please.
Photo. (FLASH CLICKS)
Superintendent Archer, is it true here at Scotland Yard
the men call General Kellermann "Father?"
Do I not know what goes on in my force? Hmm? (CHUCKLING)
(SPEAKS GERMAN)
KELLERMANN: If Scotland Yard's finest detective says it is so, hmm,
then, who am I to question it?
(SPEAKING GERMAN)
(ARCHER SIGHS)
I'm sorry about all that. (GRUNTS)
Anything to report?
A murder in Shepherd Market.
- Hmm. - Looks like German involvement,
so I expect Fe/dgericht Luftwaffe will take it over.
Hmm. (TELEPHONE RINGING)
Kellermann. (SNIFFS)
(SPEAKS GERMAN)
Mmm-hmm.
Well...
It seems a senior officer of the Sicherheitsdienst
will be joining us from Berlin.
Today.
(SPEAKING GERMAN)
(DOOR OPENS)
(SPEAKING GERMAN) (KELLERMANN SPEAKING GERMAN)
(SIGHS)
(DOOR CLOSES)
The reception at the Savoy tonight,
we can make it in his honour.
StandartenfUhrer Huth is on the personal staff of ReichsfUhrer Himmler.
We want him to feel welcome.
Why is an Intelligence SS Officer coming here, sir?
I don't know.
But, uh, fortunately,
you'll be working closely with Herr Dr Huth,
so his thoughts will not be a mystery, if you get my meaning.
(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
What did they want?
SYLVIA: I've been re-assigned. Genealogy.
They want details on all the support staff.
Family histories, bloodlines.
Weed out the undesirables.
Hmm,
I thought...
Well, I hoped it wouldn't come to this.
Not so quickly.
Look, I'll go upstairs and insist you stay working with me.
I thought it was your job to protect all of us.
You don't get it, do you?
We'll talk tomorrow.
Were you always like this or was it her dying that did it to you?
(DOOR OPENS)
Here. (DOOR CLOSES)
- Hello. MRS SHEENAN: Hello, Mr Archer.
Dad, is it murder?
Murder at the antiques shop, wasn't it, Mr Archer?
It was in the early edition.
ARCHER: Detective Bob Sheenan. (LAUGHING)
You like 'em soft, don't you, Mr Archer?
I put one in as soon as I heard you on the stairs.
I've had my eggs for the week, Mrs Sheenan.
Not to worry. We got six from Mrs Custance.
- I don't know how you do it. - Well, you helped.
I gave her that smelly, old sweater of yours to unravel for wool.
All the eggs are yours, really.
I liked that jumper.
I thought... (CHUCKLES)
Men!
You're as bad as my Torn.
ARCHER". Good day at school, boys? DOUGGHE". Yeah.
ARCHER: Did you behave yourself today, Bob?
BOB: Yes, Mr Archer.
ARCHER: (CHUCKLES) Why don't I believe you?
I put one spoonful of real tea in it.
- You look like you could use it. - Thank you.
Well, it was a murder enquiry,
but it doesn't look like I'm going to be involved.
Was it a juicy one?
(CHUCKLING) Douggie...
(BLUES MUSIC PLAYING)
(SONG PLAYING) I got the key to the highway
And I'm billed out and bound to go
(SONG CONTINUES ON PLAYER)
DOUGGIE: Dad! Dad, come and see.
Hurry.
It's a Jaguar!
(SIGHS)
(SPEAKING GERMAN)
(SPEAKS GERMAN)
(CAR DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES)
(ENGINE STARTING)
(ARCHER SPEAKING GERMAN)
(MAN SPEAKING GERMAN)
(DOOR CLOSES)
Yeah.
I don't like the look of his liver.
HUTH: Explain to me.
SHIELDS: Diseased.
It's most interesting. I have never seen one quite like it.
I wonder how your antique dealer carried on.
HUTH: How near to death by liver failure was he?
SHIELDS: I wouldn't have given him more than...
...two months.
HUTH: What about the eyes?
SHIELDS: I saw something like that in the Great War.
Glare from magnesium shells.
Photokeratitis.
HUTH: I want all his internal organs and his eyes
packed and ready to be flown to Berlin on the morning flight.
SHIELDS: Then, there is nothing to keep me.
HUTH: Sir John, your knowledge and experience is invaluable.
Please finish the post-mortem so a report can accompany the remains.
But, for now, you will all leave this room.
Except for Inspector Archer.
(DOOR OPENS)
(DOOR CLOSES)
You were on your way to a party?
There is a reception at the Savoy in your honour,
Standartenféihrer Dr Huth.
Kellermann...
He has the subtlety of a pig. (CLEARS THROAT)
What else does he have planned for me?
General Kellermann thought you might like to see
the Houses of Parliament on the way, sir.
As I say, a pig-
Does that mean you would or wouldn't like to see
the Houses of Parliament, sir?
It means, my dear Superintendent,
that I do not have the slightest intention of spending the evening
watching a roomful of Army officers and their over-dressed women
guzzling champagne in between mouthfuls of smoked salmon,
telling me the best place to buy Staffordshire china.
(CHUCKLES SOFTLY)
Very well. Then, I'll take you to your accommodation in Brook Street.
You will take me to my office.
Then, you will requisition a car for your permanent use.
You see, I need you to be mobile, Inspector Archer.
We are going to be busy, you and I.
(FOOTSTEPS RECEDING)
(SPEAKING GERMAN)
(HORN HONKING)
(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
HUTH: In some way, it's a shame the battle spared such dreary areas.
I'm sorry.
Your wife was killed in one such action.
I'm afraid the blame is Winston Churchill's.
None of this need have happened.
Well, from what I heard, he paid his debt.
(SCOFFS) The rumors, the V sign in the face of the firing squad.
Pure propaganda put out by your Resistance.
So, this Peter Thomas murder?
Well, it looks like a black market killing.
A flat full of military cigarettes, alcohol, petrol coupons.
We already have a statement from a neighbour
saying that Luftwaffe Feldwebel was a frequent visitor.
HUTH: Yes.
You sent the files to the Feldgendarmerie straight away.
And within the hour, the SS claimed them back
and tele-printed a message from Berlin
instructing the Army to pass all papers back to you.
But that instruction could have only come from the Supreme Commander.
Heil Hitler.
HUTH: Of course, you speak excellent German.
You took modern languages at Oxford? Pembroke or was it King's College?
Happy times there.
How long did you resist working for us?
ARCHER: I'm not sure General Kellermann gave me any choice.
(CHUCKLES SOFTLY)
That is the problem with having a reputation.
You don't think for a minute it's a black market murder.
In my experience, the truth doesn't offer itself up just like that.
No loose ends.
A railway ticket from Bringle Sands.
- It's a resort on the south coast. - I know exactly where it is.
You are having misgivings about this investigation.
You got Sir John Shields to perform the autopsy.
ARCHER: He's a top pathologist and the Country Physician to His Majesty.
Your point?
If you have a strong suspicion of what Peter Thomas was suffering from,
I ought to be told.
Have you seen anything like this before?
No, but some of my staff have.
They inform me it is far more dangerous than any Black Death.
ARCHER: So it's infectious.
We were fine.
What caused it?
Something in Bringle Sands?
Quite possibly.
Very nice. Now, get rid of all this silly junk.
Get lockable filing cases and a metal desk.
Telephones.
Four direct lines that do not go through Kellermann's switch board.
And I need a table and a chair in the corridor for my sentry.
- Where's my sentry? - Sentry, sir?
HUTH: Don't stand there repeating everything I say.
Go down to the SS Guard Commander at Kenton Road,
tell him to send a sentry and half a dozen men
to clear this furniture out.
I doubt there will be workmen available at this time of the night, sir.
I will be in conference room number three with Major Staiger.
I expect it all to be done before I return.
And in the morning, I want to see a team
piecing together these ashes you found in the grate at the murder scene.
(SIGHS)
HARRY: Talk about a new broom, eh?
I haven't seen this much activity since the night the invasion started.
(SPEAKING GERMAN)
Four new lines, tested and functioning.
- Are you all right? - Well...
Sylvia, she, uh... She's gone and done it.
She, she walked out and grabbed a handful of blank seaport passes,
from what it looks like.
HARRY: She's got herself on the list.
Damn it.
Yeah. (TELEPHONE RINGING)
Standartenfiihrer Hutws office.
Archer? Splendid.
Is the StandartenfUhrer with you?
He's in number three conference room, sir.
Unfortunately, he's left orders
that no calls shall be put through to him there.
That doesn't apply to me, of course, but there appears to be something wrong
with the phone in the conference room.
Well, that's probably because the signal staff are changing the lines, sir.
(CHUCKLING) What? At this time of night,
changing phones in my office?
StandartenfUhrer Huth is a very busy man, sir.
Which is why he never arrived at the Savoy.
(H UTH SPEAKS GERMAN) Archer?
(SPEAKS GERMAN)
Shall I come over there now?
Standartenfiihrer Huth just walked in, sir.
(SPEAKING GERMAN)
Do not discuss the workings of this office with outsiders.
It was General Kellermann, sir.
How do you know?
Unreliably informed, your drunken friend here
can manage a fairly convincing imitation
of General Kellermann's English, for instance.
The Peter Thomas murder investigation
is part of an operation we have code named
the Final Act.
I shall be notified of all arrests in connection with this case.
And no information goes outside this room
without my written permission or that of Reichsféihrer Heinrich Himmler. Clear?
Unforgettably so, sir.
Any breach of this instruction
is not only a capital offense under Section 134
of the Military Orders of the Commander in Chief, Great Britain,
for which the penalty is a firing squad,
but also, under Section 11 of your own Emergency Powers,
German Occupation Act, 1941,
for which, they hang offenders at Wandsworth Prison.
Would the hanging or the shooting come first, sir?
(CHUCKLES)
We must always leave something for the jury to decide. Gentlemen?
(DOOR CLOSES) (KEYS CLATTER)
- Morning. DOUGGIE: Dad!
Was it an all-night party?
If only.
- Morning. - Morning.
ARCHER: Thank you.
Oh, I'll make something for you.
No, I'm fine.
Boys, I've got a car,
so I'm gonna take you to school in half an hour.
- Is it the Jaguar? - Oh, no, it's not.
Well, you're not going back there without a rest.
I'm just getting my second wind.
Bathwater is still warm, only the children have used it.
Woman down the street saw an ambulance train
going south through Clapham Junction Monday.
It was full of wounded German soldiers. Two Red Cross coaches on the back.
I'd be careful who you'd tell that to, Mrs Sheenan.
MRS SHEENAN: I wouldn't tell anyone.
That block warden might hear about it.
But, I can talk to you, Mr Archer.
Well, in the towns,
it's just the odd murder here and there of German soldiers,
but, in the country, there are bigger groups
ambushing whole German patrols.
So, the fighting's not over?
MRS SHEENAN: There's still a chance?
Well, I'm afraid the winter's coming.
You mean, the cold will get them?
Well, they can't light fires, for fear of smoke.
There'll be no leaves left.
There'd be no cover. Spotter planes will have it easy.
I think that will be it for the Resistance.
Except, maybe in the north, in the unoccupied zone.
Well, they say it's bad up there.
Shortages.
Those poor boys.
You think I'll ever see my Tom again?
I don't know what to tell Bob.
The Germans have promised to return all POWs as soon as possible.
What do the Germans care?
They're getting cheap labour.
What can our government offer in exchange?
Give it time, Mrs Sheenan.
(SIGHS)
You mustn't let Bob see you unhappy.
(SNIFFS)
The POW camps are more comfortable than the internment ones.
I know that's not much consolation.
(DISHES CLINKING)
Dad, do you work for the Gestapo?
No.
I'm a detective with the Metropolitan Police. You know that.
Are Gestapo at Scotland Yard?
They're in the building next door, and they're mostly all Germans.
But you work with the Gestapo?
Is that what you've heard?
DOUGGIE: The boys at school said so.
I don't.
Dad?
Me and some of the boys at school were wondering,
could you get a Gestapo badge?
The Gestapo don't have badges, Douggie,
they use identity tags.
Well, could you get one of the SS armbands?
Or one of the silver SD badges?
DOUGGIE: Yeah. No one at school's got one of them.
Boys, one day, the Germans will be gone.
Then, we'll carry on,
and get back to the way we were and how things were.
If we let things fall apart now because they are here,
then it's going to be difficult or impossible to get back there.
The law is all we have.
And quite frankly...
I'm it.
(ENGINE STARTS)
(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
(DOOR CLOSES)
Doug.
Sylvia.
You shouldn't be anywhere near here. Are you mad?
Don't you know there's regular gendarmerie patrols?
(DOORS OPEN)
When you stole those passes,
you ended up on every Gestapo list in the occupied zone.
(MAN SPEAKING GERMAN)
Christ.
(SPEAKS GERMAN)
It's not for you, it's for the Mall shooting
(SLAPS) (WOMAN SHRIEKS)
There's a side door.
No. They'll have plainclothes men watching for anyone acting suspiciously.
(SPEAKING GERMAN) MAN: Show me your papers.
What the hell are you doing? (HANDCUFFS CLICKING)
(SPEAKING GERMAN)
(WHISPERS) What are you doing?
You're hurting my wrist, you bloody bastard!
(SPEAKING GERMAN)
Next!
The German view those seaport passes you took
as just about the most valuable piece of paper a foreigner can be given.
"A foreigner?"
- That isn't how I meant it. - Yes, it is.
It's what we are, as far as you're concerned, foreigners.
The Germans are the ones with the right to be here
and we're the intruders who have to bow and bloody scrape!
Calm down.
SYLVIA: Get your hands off me, you bloody Gestapo bastard!
- Have you been drinking? - So what?
Sylvia... (DISTANT GUNSHOTS)
SYLVIA: Look at you.
You're pathetic.
I've got friends who don't go in fear and trembling of the hunt.
You wouldn't understand that, would you?
No. Too busy doing their dirty work for them.
I'm a bloody fool for not having guessed.
You're Resistance.
Why are you here?
And what have we been doing these past months?
Well, lucky for me, it's not your job to hunt us down.
Not yet, anyway.
ARCHER: What do you want, Sylvia?
You've run out of information to hand them?
Well, we both got something, didn't we?
You didn't answer my question.
Maybe I wanted to tell you, you needed to be more careful.
There are some who are a lot more determined than me.
I don't doubt that.
They'd do anything to make people like you cooperate.
- I've said enough. - What do you mean?
SYLVIA: Just leave me alone. ARCHER: What are they going to do?
- I don't know. - Who are they?
Heroes, not collaborators like you lot.
I'm doing this for all of us, you bloody fool!
(BREATHING HEAVILY)
Give me a name.
John.
I don't know his surname.
He comes and goes. He always has a different scheme.
Now, it's you.
Me? Where can I find him?
Where?
The Coach and Horses, Hammersmith.
They say he took out a Panzer with a tire iron,
cost him his arm.
If you've only just guessed about me,
I suppose you haven't twigged to Harry yet.
(SCOFFS)
ARCHER: Morning, Jimmy. Busy?
(SIGHS)
All these bloomin' arrangements for the Friendship Ceremony
between them and the Russkis.
Maybe it's a good thing I'm borrowing you, then.
Oh, great. But plainclothes?
Get changed.
Well, I keep my suit in the locker ever since last time.
Good. I'll Walk With you.
I need you to check on someone, a character called John.
He's a regular at The Coach and Horses Upper Mall, Hammersmith.
Missing an arm.
I would do it myself, but I think he knows me.
(DOOR CLOSES)
This isn't strictly police business, he may be Resistance,
so I understand if you don't wanna do it.
If you think it needs to be done, sir, I'm in.
Good.
Draw a pistol and keep your wits about you.
All right?
(TYPEWRITER CLACKING)
(DOOR CLOSES)
(HARRY SIGHS)
Anything wrong, Super?
I ran into Sylvia.
Christ.
Is she all right?
Of course you knew she was Resistance, didn't you?
Just like you know everything else.
You can hardly blame her.
Having your parents killed like that.
HARRY: Oh, I...
I did some digging on that American dame.
Seems to be who she says.
Barbara Barga has quite a reputation.
Do you think she could be Resistance, too?
Seems everyone is.
A Yank? Why would she get involved?
I don't know.
But she had a rendezvous at that safe house.
Are you sure you're not talking yourself around
so that you can go and see her again?
(TELEPHONE RINGING)
(RINGING CONTINUES)
Archer.
JIMMY: Sir, the barman gave me information.
He's called John Spode. I've got the address.
Well done. Where?
Haverhill Lane, Hammersmith.
I've gained access with a bit of force, if you know what I mean.
All right.
This was hidden.
ARCHER: A team of scientists.
JIMMY: That must be our man, John Spode.
ARCHER: And that's our dead man from Shepherd Market.
"William Spode."
Brothers.
Check on those scientists in the picture.
JIMMY: Will do.
Is that from the Peter Thomas shooting?
The William Spode shooting, we can call it now.
I've heard there's no such person as Peter Thomas.
And this places his younger brother at the shooting.
My guess is, he'll be back for this.
You think he killed his own brother?
It's hard to imagine.
Perhaps...
Find out the part number and how he'd get a replacement.
JIMMY: Letter from the school.
"Confirming position of assistant music teacher."
Beech Road?
- What is it, sir? - That's my son's school.
He's after Douggie.
Call Central. Get them to put a watch on this place, in case he comes back.
- Why would he want your son, sir? - John Spode is Resistance.
They want to control me, and get to me through my son.
What else could it be?
ARCHER: Call Harry Woods.
(SINGING) I vow to thee, my country
All earthly things above
Entire and whole and perfect
The service of my love
The love that asks no questions
The love that stands the test
That lays upon the altar...
MRS SHEENAN: Douggie would have been safe with me.
ARCHER: How the hell would you know? (BANGS DOOR)
ARCHER: The Final Act.
It would have the ability to wipe out an entire city.
SYLVIA: Don't go home without me, will you?
We need nothing of you, except loyalty to your country.
We all of us have to take risks, Douglas.
We've taken one by telling you as much as we have.
- Don't go back there and say "No deal." ARCHER: What if I did?
BARBARA: Then they'd kill you.
You know too much now to be allowed to stay uncommitted.
I'm going to give you a lesson you will never forget.
HARRY: I'm worried about you, Doug.
Being Huth's man, it doesn't look good to some people.
Don't turn your back, man. This is your doing.
(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)