A trio of Spitfires are flying low. Foyle looks up as he comes out of Hastings Town Hall. Sam is waiting outside by the car.

CAPTION: SEPTEMBER 1940

Sam: How was it, sir? 

Foyle: Well, 26 revisions to the Police w*r Instructions, a briefing from the regional commissioner's office, "brief" not being the word. 

Sam: Ready to go, then? 

Foyle: I was ready shortly after we got here, you know. 

He gets into the car.

A pair of Spitfires are in flight.

Rex (voiceover): This is Red Leader. Angels 1-5 heading 0-95. 

Andrew Foyle is in the cockpit of one of the planes.

Andrew: Roger, Red Leader. I'm right behind you. 

Rex Talbot glances over at him from the cockpit of the other.

Rex: See if you can keep up this time, Foyle. Don't want to leave you behind. 

Andrew: That's France straight ahead, Red Leader. Try not to get lost. 

They fly out over the sea.

Sam and Foyle are driving along.

Foyle: You see, the trouble with w*r is committees. And the trouble with committees is people who take half an hour to say what you or I could in a couple of minutes. 

Sam: Mmm. I had an MTC instructor we called "Chloroform", because when he'd finished talking there'd be nobody left awake. 

Foyle: What did he teach? 

Sam: Road safety. 

Foyle gives her a look.

Foyle: Now you tell me. 

The car approaches a roadblock where two members of the Home Guard are sharing a thermos.

Home Guard: There you are, mate. Least it's warm and wet, eh?

Foyle: Looks like we're not in a hurry. 

Sam: They seem to be everywhere, sir. I don't think the Home Guard have got anything better to do. 

Home Guard: Can I see your identity cards, please? 

Sam: This is Detective Chief Superintendent Foyle. 

Foyle: Thank you, Sam. I'll look after it. 

He gets out of the car and takes his ID out.

Foyle: What's going on? 

Home Guard: We've had reports of a boat landing near St Leonard's. 

He takes Foyle's ID to look at it. A lorry carrying barrels drives up behind their car.

Home Guard: That's all in order, sir. 

Foyle: Nothing yet? 

Home Guard: No, sir. Thank you. 

Foyle: Thank you. 

The lorry driver, Fred Pierce, spots Foyle and suddenly swerves out onto the other side of the road.

Home Guard: What the-

The lorry accelerates towards the barrier across the road.

Home Guard: Where the heck is he going? 

The lorry crashes right through the barrier. Foyle gets back into the car and Sam takes off after the lorry.

Foyle: You up for this? 

Sam: You bet I am! 

Sam honks the horn repeatedly as she drives after the lorry. Pierce grabs a p*stol and sh**t at the two of them. Sam and Foyle duck as b*ll*ts ricochet off the front of the car. Pierce turns back to face forward and screeches around a corner. He starts to lose control of the lorry and goes off into a ditch. Barrels tumble off the back. Sam brakes and stops some way back.

Inside the lorry, Pierce clutches his head. Petrol is pouring from the damaged barrels. Just as Foyle starts to gets out of the car, the lorry bursts into flames. Sam gasps and Foyle sits back down for a moment. When the expl*si*n is over, he gets out.

Foyle: Wait here. 

Sam: Be careful, sir.

There are papers scattered all over the road as Foyle walks round to look into the cab of the still-burning lorry. He sees that Pierce is d*ad.

OPENING CREDITS

The wreck of the lorry, now extinguished, is still sizzling. Pierce's body is being carried away on a stretcher.

Man (offscreen): Have you got him?

Milner (offscreen): The van was privately owned, sir. It was registered to a man called-

He and Foyle walk around the lorry together, followed by Sam.

Foyle: Fred Pierce? 

Milner: Yes. 

Foyle: Yeah, I recognised him. 

Milner: Burglary and as*ault, six years ago. 

Foyle: Yep. I arrested him. 

Sam: Where was he going to, sir? Why didn't he stop? 

Foyle: Well, he recognised me and must have thought I was part of the roadblock. 

Milner: And he panicked. 

Sam: What about? 

A photographer takes a sh*t of the b*rned-out lorry.

Foyle: Well, I'd say he was carrying a heck of a lot of fuel, wouldn't you? Couldn't you smell it? 

Sam: Went up like the Crystal Palace, Milner. 

Milner picks up some of the scraps of paper from the roadside.

Milner: Mmm. Really. You'd have thought he'd have used some sort of metal t*nk, sir, not wooden barrels. 

Foyle: Yeah, he was also, er, carrying enough petrol coupons to fuel half of Sussex. 

Milner looks at a coupon he's picked up.

Milner: NNV. Private cars and goods vehicles. Stolen or forged? 

Sam: Where did he get the petrol from, sir? 

Foyle: That's the question. 

Petroleum Board building.

Evans (voiceover): In June, the entire south coast became what we called a pink area. You see, we'd learnt from the mistakes of France. 

Leonard Evans walks up a staircase with Foyle and Milner.

Evans: In particular, the ease with which the inv*de were able to collect supplies of fuel. We at the Petroleum Board cut the number of pump sites by 40% and reduced stocks. If by any chance the Germans do land in England, they'll find only the very minimum supplies of petrol available.

The three men walk into a conference room with maps on the walls.

Evans: There's now only one fuel depot in the immediate area. Here, at Bexhill. 

He points it out on the map.

Evans: The general manager's a man called Michael Bennett. 

Foyle: Has he reported, er, any irregularities? 

Evans: We went 3% down last month, but that was down to a leaking underground t*nk. We're having new t*nk built now. 

Milner: 3%. How much fuel is that? 

Evans: Too much. Fuel supply is of paramount importance, I need hardly tell you. The entire w*r effort depends on it. I think we should launch an immediate investigation into the procedures at Bexhill. 

Foyle: Mmm. Possibility that might just, er, frighten them off, do you think? 

Evans: Well, what do you suggest? 

Foyle: I was wondering perhaps, um, planting somebody in there. Might tell us something. 

Evans: Undercover? 

Foyle: As a driver, perhaps. 

Andrew and Rex's Spitfires come in to land at an airfield. Rex shakes his head at Andrew as they stop.

They walk across the airfield together.

Rex: I could have had him, I know I could. 

Andrew: He was coming straight at you. 

Rex: But I had the advantage. He was right in my sights. 

Another pilot, Douglas Wright, stands up from a folding chair on the grass as they approach.

Douglas: You two been in a scrap? I thought it was just a recce. 

Andrew: Stray 109. I saved his bacon. 

Foyle sits down in another of the seats.

Rex: Oh, yeah, listen to the bloody line sh**t! Had a perfectly good fix on him, then Foyle came screaming out of the sun and snatched him out of my teeth. 

Douglas: Did you down him? 

Andrew: I don't know. He was limping back in low cloud the last I saw. 

Douglas: You didn't go after him? 

Andrew: We were nearly out of fuel. 

Rex: Well, you should have left him to me. I'd have seen to it. 

Andrew: If I'd left him to you we'd be pulling you out of the drink right now. 

Rex: Like hell! 

Andrew: If we could find you. 

A honking horn draws their attention to a fuel t*nk approaching. The driver, Connie Dewar, waves from the cab.

Rex: Excuse me, chaps. 

He goes over to meet her. Douglas sits back down with Andrew.

Douglas: I don't think he's too pleased. That would have been his tenth k*ll. 

Andrew: He'll get his chance. 

Connie leans out of the t*nk window as Rex approaches.

Connie: I've missed you, darling. 

They share a slow kiss.

Connie: I've been thinking of you every minute. Every time I hear a plane, I jump out of my skin. 

Rex: You don't seriously think Jerry's going to catch me, do you? 

Connie: Am I going to see you tomorrow at the Flamingo? 

Rex: Eight o'clock. 

Connie: I love you. 

They kiss again, and Rex steps back as Connie drives on.

Foyle's office. Sam knocks on the half-open door.

Foyle (offscreen): Yeah? 

She enters to find him pacing as he studies a document.

Sam: Tea, sir? 

Foyle: Thanks. 

He continues studying the document as she puts it down on the desk.

Sam: Is there a problem, sir? 

Foyle: Erm... Yeah, there is, a bit.

He takes a breath as if to speak, but then Milner arrives in the doorway.

Milner: Sir, I've just spoken to Freddie Pierce's widow. She couldn't tell me what he was doing or where he was going with the lorry, but she did tell me who he was working for. 

Foyle: Yeah?

Milner: Frank Gannon. 

Foyle: Oh, well. No surprise there. 

Sam: Who's Frank Gannon? 

Milner: He has a club here in Hastings called the Flamingo. A couple of bars and a hotel. He even has his own brewery. 

Foyle sits down behind his desk.

Sam: Is he a racketeer? 

Milner: Calls himself a businessman. 

He goes to look over Foyle's shoulder at the desk.

Milner: Who's it going to be, sir? 

Foyle: I've no idea, Milner. 

Milner: It is a problem, isn't it?

Foyle: Yep.

Sam: What is? 

Foyle: We're just trying to think who we can put into this Bexhill fuel depot. Still seriously short of men. 

Sam: Yes, I know what you mean. Does it have to be a man? I've driven a tractor on my uncle's farm. Even a three-tonner during training. Only on fields, mind. 

Foyle: Mmm, well, thank you, but I, I don't-

Sam: Any racketeer worth his salt would spot a policeman a mile off. No one would suspect me. 

Milner: She does have a point, sir. 

Sam: I'd be completely invisible! Like a sort of... secret agent. 

Foyle: Erm, I'll think about it. 

Bexhill fuel depot. A t*nk drives up to the entrance.

Guard: Let her through. 

It's Connie Dewar driving.

Connie: Righto! Thanks. 

She pulls in at the depot. Sean O'Halloran comes walking up as she gets out.

O'Halloran (singing): Sweet Connie, sweet Connie, sweet Connie, my own.

Connie: Not now, Sean. 

O'Halloran: Have you had a bad day? 

Connie: I'm not feeling well. I just want to get home and have a bath. 

O'Halloran: Will we be seeing you at the weekend? 

Connie: Are you buying? 

O'Halloran: I don't know about that, then. 

Connie: The amount you're earning, you should be.

Violet Davies dashes past.

Violet: Twenty minutes! 

Connie: I'll meet you at the gate!

O'Halloran: Now there's a pretty girl. 

Connie: You keep your eyes off her, Sean. She's spoken for. 

Bennett (voiceover): I know, Mr Elliott. I know it should have been with you, but, er, you have to speak to the Petroleum Board. 

Violet arrives in the depot office, where Michael Bennett is on the phone, and waits for him to finish.

Bennett: It's all controlled out of London now. Tomorrow. Latest. Goodbye. 

He hangs the phone up and Violet clears her throat as she steps forward.

Bennett: Yes? 

Violet: It's Friday, Mr Bennett. I came for my wages. 

Bennett: And what are you doing this weekend? 

He gets up from his chair.

Violet: I'm going out with some of the girls, Mr Bennett. We're going to the Flamingo. 

He brings a tray of wage packets from under the desk.

Bennett: Dancing, eh? I might go down there myself. Fancy a bit of a dance. 

Violet: I'm meeting my young man. 

He pulls an envelope out from the tray.

Bennett: All you young girls! You're all at it, aren't you? 

She laughs.

Violet: I don't know what you mean, Mr Bennett. 

Bennett: Come on, then. Come over here. And sign for your wages. 

He puts an arm round her shoulders as he guides her over to the desk.

Pamela Bennett walks in and sees the two of them.

Pamela: Violet! 

Violet: I came for my wages, Mrs Bennett. 

Bennett: That's right. It's none of your business. She was just signing for them. 

Violet: Thank you. 

She signs for the wages.

Pamela: Miss Davies, if you don't mind, I have a letter for the t*nk Tonnage Committee. I'm afraid it has to go out tonight. Can you type it for me, please? 

Violet: Yes, Mrs Bennett. 

She takes the letter.

Pamela: That's all, thank you! 

Violet: Right.

She leaves. Pamela gives Michael a look.

Bennett: What's wrong with you? 

Pamela: Nothing, dear. 

She leaves the office. Bennett glances out of the window and sees Connie cleaning her t*nk with a hose outside. He peers through the blinds to admire the view of her bending over.

Foyle house. Andrew is sitting in an armchair while Foyle pours a drink at the table.

Foyle: Quiet tonight. 

Andrew: I'm sorry. 

Foyle: Oh, don't be. Bad week? 

No, not really. 

Foyle: How's the bike? 

Andrew: Goes like a dream. 

Foyle: Yeah, well. It's a death-trap, isn't it? 

Andrew: What, a Spitfire isn't? 

Foyle goes to sit down in the armchair opposite.

Andrew: I had a bit of a set-to with Rex this morning. 

Foyle: Who? 

Andrew: Rex Talbot. We were at school together, do you remember? 

Foyle: Dark-haired lad, freckles, played conkers. 

Andrew: Yeah, that's right. We never dreamed we'd end up together in all this. Now he's number one in the squadron. In fact, he lives for flying. 

Foyle: And you don't? 

Andrew: Oh, I'd rather be where I am than square-bashing in the army or stuck inside a ship. I hate the waiting, that's all. That's when it can get to you. 

Foyle: What was the argument about? Women? 

Andrew: No, nothing like that. It's nothing, really. Rex and me, we look out for each other. 

Foyle: Flying a lot? 

Andrew: Not at the moment. We're being pulled out of the front line for a week. Gives the new blood a chance to come up to scratch. 

Foyle: New recruits? 

Andrew: Yes, it's marvellous now. We're no longer alone. Poles, Czechs, Belgians, Free French. They're good chaps, most of them. But not many flying hours. 

Foyle: Whereas, er, you're an old hand. 

Andrew: You don't see it. I'm an experienced pilot now. 

Foyle: At 22. 

Andrew: You sit there as if nothing's happened. It's not conkers any more. It's a different world. There's Rex, Douglas and myself, and we're the three oldest. 

Foyle: Well, of course you are. You're the only ones left. 

He takes a drink.

Foyle's office. Foyle hands various documents to Sam, who's dressed in a uniform for the fuel depot.

Foyle: Lorry driver's licence. Training board papers. References from the Ipswich depot. 

Sam: Thank you, sir. 

Foyle: And you're to report to a Mr Bennett, depot manager, at ten o'clock, and you've got to make contact at least once every 24 hours with Milner.

Sam exchanges nods with Milner, who's standing beside Foyle.

Foyle: Understood? 

Sam: Yes, sir. I just wanted to say how grateful I am to you for letting me have this chance, sir. 

Foyle: And I just want to say, um... please don't let me regret it. 

Sam: No. 

Foyle: And if you feel yourself at any time to be in any danger whatsoever, you just get out of there. 

Bexhill fuel depot. Sam rides up to the entrance on a bicycle.

Guard: Can I see your papers, miss? 

Sam: Yes, of course. 

She gets them out of the bike basket to show him.

Guard: That should be all right. Take it up, Geoff. 

He gestures for another guard to raise the barrier.

Guard: Very good. 

Sam cycles on through.

Bennett (voiceover): Well, this all seems to be in order, Miss, er... 

Sam: Stewart. 

She's standing before him in the depot office.

Bennett: Stewart. I have to say, Ipswich speak very highly of you. They don't say why they're transferring you. 

Sam: I requested it. I wanted to be near my mother. She's getting on a bit. 

Bennett: I see. Do you know the roads? 

Sam: Absolutely. My uncle has a removals firm near here. I learned to drive in one of his vans. 

Bennett: Really? What's his name? 

Sam: Rogers. Gary Rogers. 

Bennett: Can't say I know him. Well, I'll send you out as, er, Connie Dewar's mate for a couple of days to learn the route. There are no maps. No signposts. And, er, I'll dock your wages for lateness, so you don't want to get lost. Right! Let's get you started. 

He leads Sam out into the yard where Connie is checking her t*nk over.

Bennett: Miss Dewar! I've got a new mate for you. Samantha Stewart, transferred from Ipswich. 

Sam: Hello. 

Connie Welcome aboard. 

They shake hands.

Bennett: I want you to take her out with you. Make sure she memorises the delivery routes by the end of the week. 

Connie: Thinking of replacing me? 

He chuckles.

Bennett: Well, er, I'll leave you two together. I look forward to seeing more of you, Miss Stewart. 

Connie: So, you can drive one of these, can you? 

Sam: I think so. 

Connie: You think so? Well, we'll find out. You can park it for me. Reverse it over there. 

Outside the Flamingo. Foyle and Milner get out of a police car.

Foyle: Thank you, Sergeant. 

The sergeant gets out to stand by the car as the two of them walk up a set of steps.

Milner: He's not quite as fast as Sam. 

Foyle: No. But he doesn't talk as much. 

They enter the club. It's currently empty aside from the bartender, Jack.

Foyle: Been here before? 

Milner: No, sir. We used to go up to the Cafe Anglais before the w*r. Harry Roy and his band. Don't think you'd find him playing here. 

Foyle: Frank Gannon? 

Jack: Upstairs. 

Foyle: Thank you. 

Gannon's office.

Gannon: It's a pleasure to see you, Mr Foyle. How's tricks? 

Foyle: Frederick Pierce. You know him? 

Gannon: I know Freddie. Course I do. He runs errands for me. Deliveries, that sort of thing. I hope he's not in any trouble. 

Foyle: Well, he's not. He's d*ad. 

Gannon: You don't say. 

Milner: He failed to stop at a roadblock. He lost control of his vehicle and died in the crash. 

Gannon: Well... I'm flabbergasted. Poor old Freddie. Erm, I don't know what to say. Where did this happen? 

Milner: Channel View Road. 

Gannon: Channel View? That's way outside of town. I can't imagine what he was doing there. Certainly nothing to do with me. 

Foyle: He was carrying petrol. 

Gannon: Petrol. Look, I know what you're thinking, Mr Foyle. We've had our run-ins in the past, but I'm a businessman now. Hotels, pubs, the club. I've grown up, moved on. Learnt the error of my ways. 

Milner: You've never been offered petrol from illegal sources? 

Gannon: Of course I have. Who hasn't? But I'm not gonna pay six shillings a gallon. Anyway, it's not just about money, is it? I wouldn't touch it. I'm a patriot. 

Milner and Foyle leave the club.

Milner: He was laughing at us, sir. 

Foyle: Well, nothing we can do. 

Milner: We could search the premises. 

Foyle: Waste of time, I think. I don't think he'd keep anything there. No, it's best if, er, we start the other end with the suppliers, and they might just lead us back to him. 

Milner: Yes, sir. Let's hope Sam comes up with something soon. 

Sean O'Halloran's house. A man, Carter, is waiting for him there as he walks in.

O'Halloran: And what are you doing here? 

Carter: We may have to bring our plans forward a few days, Mr O'Halloran. 

O'Halloran: A few days? 

Carter: We just want to be sure you're ready. 

O'Halloran: I'm ready. I'm fine. Just waiting for the word. 

Carter: Do you have it? 

O'Halloran: Do you want to see it? 

Carter nods.

O'Halloran: It's right here. 

He brings out a suitcase and opens it to reveal it contains a b*mb.

O'Halloran: Now, don't worry, Mr Carter. It's sleeping like a baby. And won't wake up till it hears the alarm. 

Carter: And then? 

O'Halloran: It'll wake up most of Bexhill too. 

He closes the case.

Depot yard. Sam is spraying down the front of the t*nk. Bennett comes up behind her.

Bennett: Settling in, Miss Stewart? 

Sam: Pretty well, I think, sir. I'd say I'm ready to go out on my own. 

Bennett: Ooh, I think I'll be the judge of that, thank you very much. We're not gonna let just anyone drive out of here with 500 gallons of fuel. Oh, do carry on. 

He stands behind and watches her bend over to scrub the front of the t*nk. A rider in an RAF uniform arrives on a motorbike.

Sam: I see you have a lot of women drivers. 

Bennett: When I was a boy, you never saw women doing work like this. The w*r's changed everything. 

Sam: It must seem very strange. 

Bennett: Oh, no, I approve. 

Andrew (offscreen): Sam! 

Sam straightens up to see Andrew standing there.

Andrew: Well, don't you remember me? I'm Andrew Foyle. 

Bennett: Do you two know each other? 

Andrew: Yes. 

Sam: Yes, we stepped out together. 

Bennett: What? 

Sam: When I was working in my uncle's removals firm. 

She nods pointedly at Andrew.

Bennett: You shouldn't be here. You're not authorised.

Andrew: Actually, I brought over a requisition slip. There it is. 

He hands Bennett the slip.

Bennett: That's still against procedure. 

O'Halloran comes up.

O'Halloran: Good morning to you, Mr Bennett. 

Bennett walks off with him.

Sam: You mustn't tell anyone who I am. 

Andrew: Why? You're not working undercover or anything, are you? 

Sam: What's so funny about that? 

Andrew: Oh, well, nothing. 

Sam: Look, I can't tell you anything. Except that someone's stealing petrol, lots of it, and I'm here to have a nose around. 

Andrew: So my father put you in here? 

Sam: I volunteered. 

Andrew: Oh. Well, I, I won't say a word.

Violet comes out and sees the two of them standing close together.

Andrew: In fact, you could give my bike a wash while you're at it. 

Violet: Andrew! What are you doing here? 

Andrew: Oh, aren't you pleased to see me? 

Sam heads back over to the t*nk.

Violet: Of course I am. Of course I am. Don't say that. 

She and Andrew kiss.

Andrew: I talked one of the erks into letting me bring over some paperwork. Make me a cup of tea before I go, will you? 

Violet: All right. Mr Bennett told me you two know each other. 

They walk towards Sam at the t*nk.

Andrew: Yes, er, she was my best girl. 

Violet: When? 

Andrew: Oh, it was a long time ago, and it's all over now. Isn't it, Sam? 

Sam: Totally. 

He takes Violet's hand.

Andrew: Do you want to come dancing? I've got a twelve-hour pass. 

Violet: Love to. 

They walk off together.

Fuel depot office. Bennett hands the requisition slip to Pamela.

Bennett: Here.

Pamela: This is a big order. Why was it brought in by a pilot officer? 

Bennett: Don't ask me. Anyway, it's got nothing to do with you. 

Pamela: Well, it's just it's hush-hush, isn't it? 

Bennett: What? 

Pamela: This information. Well, if they're laying in all these extra supplies, it must mean there's a big operation coming up. 

Foyle's office. There's a knock on the door.

Foyle (offscreen): Yep? 

Milner comes in, followed by Sam in her undercover uniform.

Foyle: Sam. How are you getting on? 

Sam: I think I'm fitting in, sir. 

Milner: Well, you really look the part. 

Foyle: Tell me about the others. 

Sam: Well, I have to say they seem a nice bunch. I don't really like having to spy on them. Anyway, I don't think any of them could be involved. 

Milner: What makes you think that? 

Sam: Well, you have to understand the system really. It does seem pretty above board. 

Foyle: Go on. 

Sam: Well, no fuel goes out without a requisition order from the customer. 

A dispatch rider arrives at the depot entrance.

Sam (voiceover): The requisition orders are usually brought in by dispatch riders. The depot is serving army and air bases, hospitals, the f*re service, commercial garages. Just about everyone. 

The driver hands a requisition slip to Pamela Bennett.

Sam (voiceover): Mrs Bennett takes delivery. She does the office work and checks the administration. 

Depot office. Pamela hands the slip over to her husband.

Sam (voiceover): But it's her husband, Michael Bennett, who oversees the movement of the fuel. He's the one in charge. 

Depot yard. Bennett checks on the depot fuel t*nk with a clipboard.

Sam (voiceover): Bennett is always there when the t*nk are filled, and he always checks the figures. 

Bennett walks round to where Connie is climbing down from her t*nk.

Sam (voiceover): The main t*nk have gauges which show exactly how much fuel has been taken. And there are gauges on the t*nk too. 

Bennett hands the clipboard over to Connie for her to sign.

Sam (voiceover): Bennett gets the driver to sign his ledgers, so no one can argue about how much has left the compound. 

The t*nk drives away and another pulls up behind it.

Sam (voiceover): There are about twenty deliveries a day and the process is always the same. 

RAF base. Connie walks around her parked t*nk.

Sam (voiceover): When the fuel reaches the delivery point, the same thing happens again.

An RAF officer signs a record book, then hands it to Connie for her to do the same.

Sam (voiceover): The customer has a copy of his original requisition order and signs for the fuel he receives. It's all very simple, really. 

Depot office. Pamela puts a stack of books into the safe with Bennett standing by.

Sam (voiceover): At the end of the day, all the signed paperwork is kept in a safe in the main office. It's checked once a month by the Petroleum Board. They send someone round.

Cut back to Foyle's office.

Sam: I've been thinking, sir. Bennett couldn't possibly be stealing fuel. 

Milner: He'd have to have the t*nk driver on his side. And then the customer at the other end too. 

Sam: That's right. And his wife would have to know too. 

Milner: But there's still 3% missing. 

Sam: Bennett puts that down to a leak in the pipes. 

Milner: So, are you getting on with the other drivers? 

Sam: Yes. They're taking me out tonight. 

Foyle: Really? Where you going? 

Sam: There's a club they all go to. The Flamingo. 

Foyle and Milner exchange a look.

Foyle: Oh, right. Well, have a very nice time, be in touch with same time Milner tomorrow, and don't do anything daft. 

Sam: Yes, sir. 

She goes to leave, then stops.

Sam: Oh, I forgot to mention I met your son. 

Foyle: What, at the depot? 

Sam: Yes. 

Foyle: Did he recognise you? 

Sam: Yes he did, sir, but, um, he didn't say anything. 

Foyle: What was he doing there? 

Sam: He didn't say. 

Foyle: Oh. 

He looks at his watch.

Foyle: I'll ask him. 

Restaurant. Foyle is sitting at a table with Andrew and Rex.

Rex: Well, this is very kind of you, sir. 

Foyle: Not at all. Andrew's been talking about you. I thought it was about time we met. 

Rex: We already have, sir. 

Foyle: Well, yes, I know, but- 

Rex: Actually, I have a slight confession to make. I was the kid who kicked the football through your greenhouse window. 

Foyle: Oh, right.

He looks over at Andrew.

Foyle: Well, you got the blame for that, didn't you?

Andrew: Yeah. Not the detective you think you are, Dad. Rex volunteered straight from school. He's been down here nearly six months. 

Rex: Five. Don't forget I had a month off. 

Andrew: Ah.

Rex: I, er, joined the Caterpillar Club, sir. 

Andrew: He got sh*t down and had to use his chute. 

Rex: Yeah, that was six months ago. Couple of Messerschmitts got the better of me. 

Andrew: Ah, I should have been there. 

Rex: I wish you had been. I was 12,000 feet up. I was lucky I had my hood open. I was totally out of control. Spinning round all over the place. I was more or less sucked out of the cockpit. Somehow got the parachute open and the next thing I knew, splosh! I was in the sea off the coast of France. 

Foyle: How'd you get back? 

Rex: I was picked up by a fishing boat. Unfortunately, I got a bit bust up. Whole month in hospital. And meanwhile Andrew here was usurping my place in as number one in the squadron. 

Andrew snorts.

Andrew: Hardly! 

A waiter brings their meals over.

Waiter: Pâté, sir?

Rex: That looks a lot better than the food they serve in the mess.

Andrew: I'll say! 

Foyle: Passes out a bit of a rarity, are they? 

Rex: No, it's not too bad, sir. As a matter of fact, I've got a twelve-hour. Taking my girl out tonight. 

Foyle: Oh. Good.

Rex looks at Andrew.

Rex: Are you coming? You and Violet? 

Andrew: Yeah.

Foyle: Violet? 

Andrew: Yep. She's, er, just a friend, Dad. 

Foyle: Doesn't, um, doesn't work at the fuel depot by any chance, does she? 

Rex: I'm sorry, I haven't spoken out of turn, have I? 

Foyle: No, no, no. Not at all. No secrets between Andrew and me. Are there, son? 

Andrew sighs a little.

Connie and Violet's flat.

Sam (voiceover): Tell me, Connie, how did you become a t*nk driver? 

The two of them are getting ready for their night out in Connie's bedroom.

Connie: You don't want to know. 

Sam: No, I do. I'm interested. 

Connie: There's not much to tell. I left school when I was sixteen and got a job over at Bristol, waxing the inside of barrels. It was bloody horrible. Thirteen hours a day, two quid a week. And then I had to help load up the bogeys. Not much fun, I can tell you.

Sam: Bogeys? 

Connie: Trucks. Thought you worked in a removals firm. 

Sam: Yes, that's right. So then what happened? 

Connie: One of the drivers got sick, and I persuaded the boss to let me take his place. Soon as I was trained up, I scarpered and came over here. 

Violet comes into the room.

Violet: You got any spare stockings? 

Connie: You've got to be kidding. Here. Help yourself. 

She tosses Violet a bottle from the dressing table.

Violet: What is it? 

Connie: Stockings in a bottle. 

Violet laughs.

Violet: What will they think of next? 

Connie: Help yourself to some lipstick if you want, Sam. 

Sam: Oh, thanks. 

Connie: Those pilots aren't going to believe their luck when they see you.

Violet: Just make sure you find one of your own. 

Sam: How long have you and Andrew been going steady? 

Connie: Long enough. He and Vi are going to get married as soon as the w*r's over. 

Sam: Really? 

Violet: A double wedding.

Connie: Him and Vi and Rex and me. And we'll have a fly-past. All the other pilots in their Spits.

Sam: Wow. 

Connie: It'll be lovely. All right. I'm ready. 

She stands up, then clutches her back.

Connie: Ooh. 

Violet: Connie, are you all right? 

Connie: Yes. 

Violet: Are you sure? 

Connie: I'm just tired. 

Violet: You should see the quack. You've been like this all week. 

Connie: I'm fine. Come on, Vi. We're going to be late. 

Airfield, evening. Andrew and Rex are walking together.

Rex: Sorry about lunch. Didn't mean to blab about you and Vi. 

Andrew: Well, fools rush in. 

Rex: You should have warned me.

Andrew: I knew I shouldn't have invited you. 

Rex: You've nothing to be shamed of. Vi's a corker. 

Andrew: Well, you keep your hands off her, all right! 

They reach a car where Douglas and another RAF office are waiting.

Douglas: Come on, tail-end Charlies! 

Wing Commander Turner walks by as they get in.

Andrew: Sir! 

Turner: Heading into Hastings? 

Andrew: Yes, sir. 

Turner: Well, don't do anything that involves alcohol, loose women or dancing. 

Douglas: How about all three, sir? 

Turner: That's perfectly all right. 

They laugh as Turner walks off, and start driving.

Andrew: Maybe tonight's your night, Douglas. About time, huh? 

They laugh and chatter as they drive off-base.

The Flamingo. Music is playing and the club is doing a lively trade. O'Halloran walks through with a cigarette and a beer. The three girls from the depot have a table together.

Sam: No, I won't be dancing tonight.

Violet: No? 

Sam: Two left feet. 

Connie: Really? 

Sam: Really.

Connie: Things are looking up, girls. Look who's arrived! 

The group of RAF officers arrive. Rex gives Connie a kiss.

Rex: You look ravishing. 

Connie: Is that all? 

Rex: Oh. Delightful. Delicious. Delovely. 

Violet: Why don't you ever say nice things like that to me? 

Andrew looks rather awkward.

Violet: Mmm? 

Douglas approaches Sam at the table.

Douglas: I don't think we've met. 

Sam: Sam Stewart. 

Douglas: Douglas Wright. 

They shake hands.

Douglas: Can I buy you a drink? 

Sam: I already have one. 

Douglas: Then why don't you buy me one and I can join you? 

She chuckles.

Sam: Brylcreem boys.

Connie: Rex, darling, come and dance with me. 

She leads him to the dancefloor.

Violet: Shall we go and dance? 

Andrew: Mmm, okay.

Violet: All right.

Rex claps Andrew on the shoulder in passing.

Rex: I'll have a pint. 

Andrew: Come on.

Violet: Okay! 

Rex and Andrew are dancing with their partners while Douglas and Sam sit and watch.

Douglas: How about that drink? Come on. 

They get up.

Frank Gannon enters the club and goes over to the bar.

Gannon: A good night. 

Jack: Could get livelier. 

Gannon: Tell them to keep it this way. They'll drink more. 

Gannon moves on through the club, stopping for a moment to watch the dancing couples before moving on.

Sam is at the bar. O'Halloran walks up behind her.

O'Halloran: Now here's a face I haven't seen before. I'm Sean O'Halloran. How do you do? 

Sam: Hello. I'm Samantha Stewart. I've seen you. 

O'Halloran: You have? 

Sam: Building the new t*nk. 

O'Halloran: Me and my boys. 

Sam: That's right. I heard you were losing fuel. Something to do with leaky pipes. 

O'Halloran: And where did you hear a thing like that? 

Sam: I don't know. Mr Bennett, I suppose. So, how long have you been at Bexhill? 

O'Halloran: I'm in and out. 

Sam: And where do you come from? Ireland originally, of course. 

O'Halloran: I'm from Tullamore in County Offaly. 

Sam: Beautiful. 

O'Halloran: It is. And why do you want to know? 

Sam: I'm just interested. 

O'Halloran: You seem to be interested in a lot of things. 

Rex and Connie sit down together.

Connie: When d'you have to be back tonight? 

Rex: Not till later. 

Connie: Why don't we go back to my flat? 

Rex: What about Violet? 

Connie: We drew straws. I have you all to myself for once. Just you and me. 

They kiss. Rex looks down for a moment.

Rex: I'll, um, I'll go and get some more drinks. 

Violet and Andrew are dancing together to a slower number.

Violet: So, were you going to tell me about her, then? 

Andrew: Who? 

Violet: Sam Stewart. When did you know her? 

Andrew: Oh, ages ago. You're not jealous, are you? 

She chuckles.

Violet: So what are you doing tonight? 

Andrew: What? You mean... later? 

Violet: I wondered if you were going to invite me home. 

Andrew: That may not be so easy. Um...

Violet: Well, I promised Connie I'd give her the run of the flat. And you live in Hastings. 

Andrew: Not alone, I'm afraid. 

Violet: What about a hotel? 

She puts her arms around his neck, and he smiles.

O'Halloran: So, you were at Ipswich, were you? 

He and Sam are still over by the bar.

Sam: Yes. 

O'Halloran: How long were you there? 

Sam: Couple of months. 

O'Halloran: Let me tell you. There's something about working with fuel. It gets under your skin. Under your nails. You can scrub all you like. But in the end, it's part of you.

He grabs Sam by the arm.

O'Halloran:  Now, why is it you don't have a t*nk driver's hands? 

Andrew comes into the bar area behind them and then stops.

Sam (offscreen): Gloves. 

O'Halloran: You seem to have a lot of curiosity in you. 

Sam: Could you let go of my hand? You're really hurting my wrist. 

She tries to pull away, but he doesn't let her.

Andrew: What's happening here? 

O'Halloran: Mr Foyle, isn't it? 

Andrew: Was he hurting you? 

Sam: I'm fine. 

O'Halloran lets her go and turns back to the bar as she cradles her wrist.

Andrew: Why don't you get the hell out of here, O'Halloran? Nobody invited you.

Across the room, Douglas and the fourth member of their group from the base turn to look.

O'Halloran: And there was me thinking this place was open to everyone. 

Andrew: Well, you were wrong. We don't want you here. 

Douglas: You or your mates. 

RAF Officer: Bloody bog-dwellers. 

Violet walks into the bar area.

O'Halloran: You think you're too good for us, do you? 

Andrew: We're the ones fighting this w*r. You're just getting rich watching from the side! 

Sam: Andrew, It's all right. 

Violet: Andrew, what's going on? 

Andrew: I said, why don't you get out of here? 

O'Halloran: Why don't you make me. 

Andrew: Maybe I will!

O'Halloran: I'm waiting. 

Andrew moves as if to turn away, then punches him in the face. It immediately turns into a big fight, with the other RAF officers wading in.

Rex stands up from the table he's sharing with Connie, taking his jacket off as he heads towards the fight.

Connie: Rex, please! 

Rex: I'm sorry. Look after this for me, will you?

He tosses the jacket to her. By the time he reaches the bar area, the fight has spread. Rex grabs O'Halloran and punches him.

Connie stands watching. Jack brushes past her and hurries in to the back bar area.

Jack: Not again! 

He hurries off. At the bar area, Sam stands back, trying to keep out the way of the fight.

Outside the Flamingo. Connie hurries down the steps and dashes off, sobbing. An army vehicle screeches up and Military Police rush out.

MP: Let's be having you. This is it! Here.

They run towards the club.

MP: Right, you lot! 

MP: Oh, give up.

MP: Come on, then! 

Connie and Violet's flat. Connie runs up the stairs to her room, crying. She throws herself onto the bed, then picks up the framed photo of Rex on the nightstand. Throwing it to the floor, she buries her face in the pillow and sobs.

Wing Commander Turner's office, daylight. Andrew is standing to attention.

Turner: So, what do you have to say for yourself? 

Andrew: I didn't start it, sir. 

Turner: Not what I heard. I may be wrong, Foyle, but I thought we were fighting the Germans, not the Irish. 

Andrew: Well, everyone knows whose side the Irish are really on. 

Turner: Last time I looked in the newspapers, they were neutral. 

Andrew: Which is why German U-boat crews can walk into areas and buy their cigarettes. 

Turner: That is total nonsense. 

Andrew: How many ships have we lost in the Atlantic this month, sir? The fact that we can't use the bases on the south and west coast of Ireland has been a total disaster. Even Mr Churchill has said as much. 

Turner: Go on. 

Andrew: We're protecting the Irish. If it wasn't for our convoys, they'd have no food. But they've given us nothing in return, and they don't even care who wins this w*r. 

Turner: Is that what you believe?

Andrew: A lot of us do, sir.

Turner: Well, how do you square that with the thousands of Irishmen now fighting for Britain? 

Andrew: O'Halloran isn't one of them. 

Turner: Or the men at sea. Merchant marines, the Royal Navy. Irish volunteers out there facing the U-boats while you sit here sniping at them and their country. 

Andrew: I was just-

Turner: Now, listen to me, Foyle. We need Irish labour. With manpower shortages the way they are, we couldn't manage without them. And whatever your political views, your performance last night was pig-headed and deplorable, to say the least. 

Andrew: Sorry, sir. 

Turner: Now get out. If you weren't such a damn good pilot, you, Talbot and Wright, I'd put all three of you on a charge. 

Andrew puts his cap back on and salutes.

Andrew: Sir. 

Police station. Milner and Foyle are walking through the corridors together.

Milner: And I have something on the man who approached Sam at the Flamingo. He's called Sean O'Halloran. He's from Tullamore in County Offaly. He's been at the depot for the last six months. He and the men are building the bunds, sir. They're meant to protect the fuel t*nk from b*mb blasts. 

Foyle: Has he got a record? 

Milner: No, not as such. But Special Branch interviewed him twice last year. Once in London, the 28th of July, and then again in Coventry at the end of August. 

They reach Foyle's office.

Foyle: Coventry, August. There was a b*mb. 

Milner: Yes, sir. k*lled five people, injured twelve more. Went off in a busy marketplace. A b*mb also went off in London. It was in the left-luggage office at King's Cross station. One man was k*lled, fourteen injured. 

Foyle: You telling me he's, um, IRA? 

Milner: Nothing was ever proven. He was interviewed and them released both times. 

Foyle: Hmm. Erm, what happened with this, um, fight at the club, exactly? 

Milner: It was started by your son, sir. 

Foyle: Oh. 

Milner: But Sam is adamant that he came to her defence. 

Foyle: Right. 

Milner: Do you think we should tell Sam about O'Halloran? 

Foyle: Er, no, wouldn't help. She's far too imaginative. But any sign of any more trouble, get her right out. 

Milner: Yes, sir. 

He leaves.

Fuel depot office. Michael Bennett paces, lecturing Sam, while his wife opens the safe.

Bennett: And I will not have my girls, any of my girls, involved in barroom brawls. Do you understand that? 

Sam: I wasn't actually involved, Mr Bennett. 

Bennett: You were there. 

Sam: There were quite a few of us there, really. 

Sam watches Pamela Bennett as she enters the combination to open the safe.

Bennett: Have you memorised the routes? 

Sam: Yes. I think so. 

Bennett: Good. This is your last day with Connie. Tomorrow, you can take the t*nk out on your own. 

Sam: Right.

Pamela: What are you looking at? 

Sam: Nothing, Mrs Bennett. 

Bennett: All right, you can go. 

Sam leaves the office.

Pamela: I don't like that girl. 

Bennett: You don't like any of the girls. 

Pamela: Is it any wonder? "My girls"!

She sits at the desk and sighs.

Pamela: Why do you call them that? 

Bennett: What is the matter with you? I had to bend the rules to let you work here, you know. 

Pamela: What else could I do? The WVS? The knitting circle? I do what you tell me to do. That's all I've ever done. And I can't stand it. 

Andrew and Violet are walking along a street.

Violet: I just don't understand you. What was all that about the other night? 

Andrew: Look, I've already been carpeted by the Wing Co. Don't you start.

Violet: I don't like fighting. 

Andrew: Nor do I. 

Violet: Well, you didn't show it. Connie's not talking to Rex, I can tell you that. 

Andrew: Oh, so you're not going to forgive me either? 

She stops and swings round to face him.

Violet: Well, why should I? 

Andrew: Because you know I'm crazy about you. 

Violet: Are you? You haven't even taken me home with you yet. 

Andrew: I can't take you home. I live with my father. 

Violet: Can't I meet him? 

Andrew: You don't want to meet him. 

Violet: Why not? What's wrong with him? 

Andrew: Well, nothing, but... Do you want to come out for a snifter tonight? We can go back to the Flamingo and... 

Violet: I thought you'd have all been banned from there by now. 

Andrew: We're their best customers! Most of the time. 

Violet: You're not having me on, are you, Andrew? You and I are going to be together after the w*r? 

Andrew: Of course we are.

She kisses him. Andrew looks up at the sound of an engine, and sees Sam drive past in a t*nk. Then he turns back to Violet and smiles at her before kissing her again.

Fuel depot. Sam drives the t*nk back in with Connie in the passenger seat.

Depot yard. Sam is filling one of the on-site fuel t*nk from the t*nk while Connie stands down below.

Sam: Mr Bennett said I could go out on my own tomorrow. 

Connie: Bully for you. 

Sam: You're not still upset about last night, are you? How long have you and Rex been together? 

Connie: I don't want to talk about him. 

Sam: Connie, it wasn't his fault. I mean, if anyone started the fight, it was Andrew, and he only got involved because of me. 

Connie: Bloody Andrew Foyle. He's Rex's best friend, did you know that? 

Sam: No. 

Connie: He had to come rushing in like the knight in shining armour, didn't he? You said you walked out with him. 

Sam: Yes, a long time ago. 

Connie: Before he met Rex? 

Sam: Why do you want to know? 

Connie: Pilots. They're all liars. They don't care about anybody except themselves. 

She looks at the fuel gauge as the needle goes down to 200 gallons.

Sam: Connie. 

Connie: That's it. 300 gallons. 

She takes the hose back from Sam and Sam climbs down from the storage t*nk.

Sam: Hang on a minute, there's something wrong. 

She points at the t*nk.

Connie: What? 

Sam: Look at the gauge. There's 200 gallons left in the t*nk. 

Connie: We're empty. 

She smacks the gauge.

Connie: Sometimes it gets stuck. 

She heads round to the front of the t*nk.

The two of them are driving along a country lane, Sam in the passenger seat.

Connie: I can drop you off, if you like. 

Sam: What? 

Connie: Get off early. There's no need to come all the way back to Bexhill. 

Sam: Don't I have to sign myself out? 

Connie: I'll do that for you. Nobody ever checks. I'm doing you a favour, Sam. There's no need to thank me. 

She pulls to a halt and Sam gets out.

Connie: You can get a bus. 

Sam: Connie! 

Connie: I'll see you tomorrow. 

She drives off, leaving Sam behind.

Connie drives on through the woods. She stops in front of a lorry loaded with barrels. Carter gets out of the driver's seat.

Carter: How are you, Connie? 

Connie: Just get on with it, Carter. I don't need to talk to you.

He grabs her by the arm as she goes to walk past him.

Carter: What's wrong with you all of a sudden? You all right? 

Connie: No, I'm sick. I'm sick of you and the whole thing. 

Carter: Well, I've got a message to pass on to you. We're doubling our order. 

Connie: What? You've got to be kidding. Someone will notice! 

Carter: We may have to move on, Connie, any day now, so we're just making the most of it while we can. This is not like you. You're not usually so moody. 

Connie: I wish I'd never started with all this. I should never have got involved in the first place. 

Carter: But you are involved, Connie. And you'll be leaving the depot soon. We'll start again someplace else. 

Connie: What if I don't want to? 

Carter: I'd be very careful what you say, if I was you. You're in. Getting out isn't so easy. 

Connie: Are you thr*at me? 

Carter: Never said a word. 

Connie: Well, you tell him from me, I'm not going anywhere. And if he doesn't like it, there are stories I could tell. And that is a thr*at. Now, let's get this stuff unloaded. 

She heads round to the side of the t*nk.

Foyle's office. Sam is reporting in to him and Milner.

Sam: She was lying. There were at least 200 gallons left in the t*nk. I saw the gauge. 

Milner: What time was it? 

Sam pulls a note from her pocket.

Milner: Half past four. See? I made a note of all the times and deliveries. 

Milner: And where was this? 

Sam: She dropped me off at a bus stop. Well, it was more in the middle of nowhere, really. Then I think she went into the woods, where she could have transferred the fuel to another t*nk. 

Milner: Or a lorry. Could quite easily have gone into more of Frank Gannon's barrels. 

Sam: But that would be frightfully dangerous. 

Foyle: Where was the, er, delivery made? 

Sam: At the works out at Silverhill. 

Foyle: They requisition it? 

Sam: Yes, sir. 

Foyle: Then they requested and should have received a specific quantity. The same quantity that left Bexhill, and if she's held onto 200 gallons, why wasn't it noticed? 

Sam: Perhaps they're involved in it too. 

Milner: Could there be a link between Bennett and Gannon? 

Sam: Quite possibly. If only there was something more I could do. 

Doctor Henderson's office.

Connie: What?

Henderson: There's no doubt about it. You're pregnant. Did you really have no idea? 

Connie: No. I, I haven't been feeling well, but... How was I to know? 

Henderson: Well... 

Connie: Oh, Lord.

She sits down.

Henderson: I take it you're unmarried. 

Connie: Of course I'm unmarried. How many months? 

Henderson: You're about four months pregnant, Miss Dewar. The, er, father? 

Connie: What about him? 

Henderson: Are you still seeing him? 

Connie: I see him all the time. 

Henderson: You'll have to tell him. 

Connie: Of course I'll tell him. 

Henderson: Is he in a position to... 

Connie: I don't know. I don't know what he's going to say. Oh, Lord! 

Petroleum Board building. Leonard Evans leads Foyle up the stairs.

Evans: Your officer is still working inside the Bexhill depot? 

Foyle: Yes. 

Evans: It was a Miss Stewart, as I recall. 

Foyle: Mm-hmm. 

Evans: That was the name on her papers. Has she found anything amiss? 

Foyle: Well, as a matter of fact, yes, er, links between the depot and, er, a well-known crook. 

Gannon's office at The Flamingo. Connie is sobbing as he pours a drink.

Gannon: Come on, Connie. You tell me all about it. Take your time. 

His hand is on her shoulder.

An office at the Petroleum board.

Foyle: He has the resources to move petrol around on a very large scale, and there's evidence of at least one driver being involved. 

Evans: Well, I'm afraid from what you say, Mr Foyle, this is not just a police matter. I'll have to order an immediate audit. 

Foyle: Which would mean what? 

Evans: Closing down Bexhill completely. Going over every fuel movement of the past twelve months at least. 

Foyle: Well, if you move in before we make arrests, we won't have heard the last of it. There are other depots, other drivers. It won't stop. 

Evans: Another 48 hours. 

Foyle: Thank you. 

He moves to leave.

The Flamingo. Rex is drinking at a table with Douglas.

Andrew and O'Halloran come face to face in front of the bar, and then O'Halloran moves on. Andrew looks after him for a moment, then approaches Jack behind the bar.

Jack: What do you want? 

Andrew: Well, a pint of best, if you don't mind. 

Jack: Maybe I do. What makes you think you're still welcome here? 

Andrew: Oh, come on, Jack. You're not going to let a little scrap spoil an old friendship, are you? 

Jack: What friendship? 

He moves to get Andrew his drink.

Violet has joined Rex and Douglas at their table.

Violet: I don't know.

Douglas: No, don't know.

Violet sits up as she spots Gannon escorting Connie into the room.

Violet: Here's Connie! 

Rex: Connie! Where've you been? I've been looking for you! 

He hurries over to her.

Rex: You all right? 

She's still teary.

Connie: Am I all right? No, Rex. I'm not all right! 

Rex: Have you been drinking?

Connie: Get away from me! 

Rex: Connie!

Connie: I don't want to see you! 

Violet comes over, taking her by the arm.

Violet: Oh, Connie, what is it? 

Douglas: I think someone should take her home. 

Rex: I will. 

Connie: No, I'm not going with you. 

Rex: Darling! 

Connie: Don't call me that! I'm tired of it! I'm tired of it all! Being used, being pushed around. I've had enough! 

Michael and Pamela Bennett are also in the club, and look round at her raised voice.

Connie: I know something. D'you know what I know? I've got a little secret! Maybe it's time I started sharing it around! 

Andrew has joined the group, standing with Violet.

Andrew: I've got my bike outside. I'll see her home. 

Violet: Andrew. 

Andrew: Well, come on, Vi. She won't go with Rex and someone's got to take her. 

Connie steps away as he moves towards her.

Connie: I know what you want! 

Andrew: I don't want anything. I think you should be in bed. 

He takes her by the arm.

Violet: Go on, then. 

Andrew: Come on, Connie. 

She sobs as he leads her out.

Andrew: It's all right. 

Connie: I'm going to tell! I'm going to tell everyone! 

The Bennetts watch her leave.

Violet stands watching them go with Rex and Douglas.

Douglas: I think you really upset her that night. 

Rex: When a romantic evening turns into a punch-up, what do you expect? It was bloody Foyle's fault. 

Violet: Language! 

Rex: Sorry. 

Pamela: I told you we shouldn't have come here. 

Bennett: You don't want to stay? 

Pamela: No. I don't. 

Bennett: Right! 

He goes to leave.

Violet: Well, thanks a lot, boys. Another lovely evening. 

She walks off.

Connie and Violet's flat, night. Andrew and Connie pull up on his motorbike. She gets off the back.

Connie: Thank you, Andrew. 

Andrew: That's all right. Are you feeling any better? 

Connie: I just want to go to bed. 

Andrew: D'you want me to come in with you? 

Connie: No. I'll be all right. 

Andrew: I'll just see you in. All right? 

He walks her in through the main door of the block of flats.

Depot yard, morning. Sam pulls up into the yard in a t*nk and Bennett comes up to her.

Bennett: Miss Dewar not here yet? 

Sam: No, Mr Bennett. 

Bennett: She's an hour late. Where is she? 

Sam: I don't know sir. 

O'Halloran speaks from behind them.

O'Halloran: She had a skinful last night. I doubt you'll see her today. 

Bennett checks his watch then turns back to Sam.

Bennett: Do you know where she lives? 

Sam: Yes. 

Bennett: Right. Take my car. Go round and collect her. Don't let her tell you she's not well enough to work, and don't come back without her. 

He strides away.

Sam: Right, sir. 

Sam pulls up outside the block of flats in Bennett's car. She gets out and calls up at the window of the flat.

Sam: Connie?

She goes over and rings the doorbell of the outer door. There's no response, and she knocks as well, then bends down and gets the spare key from behind a brick to let herself in.

Sam hurries up the stairs inside.

Sam: Connie?

She stops as she sees Connie lying at the corner of the staircase, d*ad.

Outside the block of flats, later. Police officers are going back and forth. Sam leans against one of the cars.

Inside, Milner is inspecting the body.

Milner: Her neck is broken, sir. 

Foyle: Could have fallen. What d'you think? She'd been drinking, hadn't she?

Milner: Yes, sir, but look. 

He indicates her bruises wrist.

Milner: Bruises. Some sort of fight?

Foyle: Maybe. 

Milner: If she was involved in this petrol racket, perhaps she fell out with whoever was employing her. 

Foyle: Maybe. What a waste. 

He stands up and looks up the stairs.

Foyle: Her room's up here, is that right? 

Milner: Yes, sir. Top of the stairs. 

Connie and Violet's flat. Foyle looks around and Milner follows him in.

Milner: Connie shared with a girl called Violet Davies. She also works at the Bexhill depot. 

Foyle: Violet Davies. Well, well, well. 

Milner: Sir? 

Foyle: Which bed is which? 

He looks in a handbag hanging from the end of one bed and finds an identity card.

Foyle: This is Connie Dewar. 

Milner finds the smashed photo frame of Rex beside the bed, and shows it Foyle.

Milner: Boyfriend? I'll find out who it is. 

Foyle goes over to pick it up.

Foyle: I know who it is. 

Milner: Sir? 

Foyle: This is, um, a friend of Andrew's. Rex Talbot. 

Milner: Really. 

They start searching the room.

Foyle: Who else is in the building? 

Milner: The landlady is a Mrs Sutton. She's away at the moment.

He picks up a small tin from the dressing table.

Milner: This is an odd thing to have on your dressing table. Bicarbonate of soda. My wife's taking that. 

Foyle: Ask her about it. 

Milner: Yes, sir. 

Foyle spots something under Connie's pillow. He pulls out a diary.

Foyle: Wouldn't you know it? I've got her diary here.

Flipping through the entries, he finds a photograph of Andrew in his RAF uniform.

Outside. Foyle and Milner emerge and go over to where Sam is waiting.

Sam: Is it m*rder, sir? 

Foyle: Looks like it. 

Sam: You don't think she could have... thrown herself down the stairs? 

Foyle: Why? 

Sam: She was so miserable yesterday. 

Foyle: Was she? 

Sam: It was to do with Rex. This pilot she was seeing. She got very angry with him for getting involved in a fight. 

Foyle: No, it wasn't su1c1de. 

Sam: This is all about petrol, isn't it, sir? 

Foyle: Well, maybe. You're sure it was, erm, Rex Talbot she was seeing, yes? 

Sam: Yes. 

Foyle: What about the other girl? 

Sam: Violet? 

Foyle: Was she seeing anyone? 

Sam: I don't really know. 

Foyle: You don't really know? 

Sam: Well, er... 

Foyle: Oh, look, for God's sake, just tell me the truth. Think I'm an idiot? Really. Don't keep anything from me just because it involves my son, all right? She was seeing Andrew, wasn't she? 

Sam: Yes, sir. 

Foyle: Why didn't you tell me before? 

Sam: I didn't want to say. I know he's not involved in this, sir. 

Foyle: Well, of course he's involved. It's quite obvious he's involved, and it's m*rder, and that means nobody is protected, not even him. You understand? 

Sam: Yes, sir. 

He walks off, and after a moment, Milner follows him.

Police station canteen. Milner is interviewing Violet.

Milner: I'm sorry. This must be very difficult for you, Miss Davies. 

Violet: Connie was a good friend to me. We looked after each other. 

Milner: How long had you shared a room? 

Violet: Since the start of the year. Er, we joined the depot at about the same time and sort of took a liking to each other. 

Milner: Were you close? 

Violet: Yes. After Connie met Rex, she didn't confide in me as much as she used to. She was so in love with him. But... I, I sometimes thought he upset her. Like the other night. The stupid fight. It had to be O'Halloran. He's trouble. 

Foyle enters the room and walks up to join them.

Violet: But Connie had been looking forward to that evening. It shouldn't have had to end like that. 

Milner: This is Mr Foyle. 

Foyle: Hi.

He sits down at a nearby table to listen.

Violet: Hello. 

Milner: How long had she and Rex been walking out? 

Violet: A long time. They h*t it off right from the start. Six, er, seven months. 

Milner: And was he her only boyfriend? 

Violet: Yes. Yes, she was in love with him. 

Milner: She wasn't seeing anybody else? 

Violet: No. 

She hesitates, catching Foyle's attention.

Violet: Well, maybe. I don't know. 

Foyle: Tell us what happened last night. 

Violet: Connie had been drinking. She was upset. She said something that was very strange. 

Foyle: What was that? 

Violet: She said she was tired of being used. And that she knew something. She said she had a secret. 

Foyle: What, she was talking to you? 

Violet: No. She was in such a state, she could have been talking to anyone. Anyway, after that, she went home. And that was the last time I saw her. 

Foyle: But you weren't at home last night? 

Violet: No. I was at a hotel. I was with my boyfriend. Look, I'm not that sort of a girl. We've never done that sort of thing before. But he's more than a boyfriend. He's my fiancé. We're going to get married. 

Foyle: Well, then, you left together? 

Violet: Yes. He drove Connie home first and then came back for me. We left at about ten. His name is Andrew Foyle. And he's the most wonderful man I've ever met, and... Foyle. He's got the same name as you. 

Foyle: Mmm. That's because, erm, I'm his father. 

Fuel depot. Foyle and Milner leave the building and cross the yard together. Foyle rubs his face.

Milner: I understand this puts you in a difficult position, sir. 

O'Halloran spots the two of them walking by.

Foyle: That's a bloody understatement, Milner. 

Milner: I'm sure Andrew is above suspicion. 

Foyle: Is he? He's not above mine. 

They get into their car and the sergeant drives them away. Michael Bennett watches them go, and O'Halloran approaches him.

O'Halloran: Mr Bennett, sir. Those men that were just here. 

Bennett: The police. 

O'Halloran: What happened? 

Bennett: You haven't heard? Connie Dewar was k*ll last night. Someone pushed her down the stairs. 

O'Halloran: What?

Bennett: It's terrible, I know. It beggars belief. I don't know what the Board's going to make of this! 

RAF base. Milner and Foyle arrive in their car.

Wing Commander Turner's office. He shakes hands with Foyle as the two of them enter.

Turner: Detective Chief Superintendent Foyle, it's a pleasure to meet you. You must be very proud of your son. I have to say he's a credit to you. 

Foyle: Thank you. Um, I'm here, I'm afraid, though, in an official capacity. 

Turner: And that is? 

Foyle: Um, a young woman has been found d*ad. Er, she used to deliver fuel here. Connie Dewar?

Turner: The name doesn't mean anything to me. 

Foyle: No? She may well have been involved, er, in some way with two of your pilots. One of them being my son. 

Turner: I see. And the other? 

Foyle: Rex Talbot. 

Turner: And you've come here, what, to interrogate them? 

Foyle: Well, we'd like to speak to them, er, with your permission. 

Turner: Well, I'm not sure I like the idea. I'm sorry. How did she die? 

Milner: She was m*rder. She was pushed down a flight of stairs and she broke her neck. 

Turner: And it couldn't have been an accident? 

Milner: No. Indications suggest otherwise. 

Turner: Indications. You see, the morale of my men is my first and my only concern in this matter, Mr Foyle. As I'm sure you're aware, we've sustained enormous losses, and although they may not show it, they're living on a Kn*fe-edge right now. Your coming in here and throwing a barrage of questions at my two best pilots could be the last thing we need. 

Foyle: Well, I quite understand that. I can't say I'm particularly eager to discuss this with my son. I'd much rather not be here at all, quite frankly, but the girl is d*ad, we need to know how and why. I'm here, er, as a courtesy. I could arrange for them to be taken to the station, if you'd prefer? 

Turner: No. Of course you can see them here. I just wanted to be sure you appreciated the situation. 

Foyle: I do. 

Mess tent on the RAF base. Rex enters.

Rex: Mr Foyle! Sir, this is a surprise. You're the last person I expected to see. 

Foyle and Milner stand waiting for him.

Foyle: Rex, afraid I've got some rather bad news.

Rex: What?

Foyle: I understand you know a young woman called, um, Connie Dewar?

Rex: Nothing's happened, has it? Is she all right? 

Foyle: I'm afraid she's d*ad. 

Rex slowly sits down.

Foyle: I'm sorry. 

Rex: How? 

Milner: She fell and broke her neck. It could have been an accident. 

Rex: Could have been? 

Milner: She may have been involved in a struggle. 

Rex: Er, well, have you spoken to Violet? I mean, Violet must have been there. They live together. She must have seen what happened. 

Foyle: Violet, um, wasn't there. Er, when was the last time you saw Connie? 

Rex: Er, at the Flamingo. She, she wasn't very pleased with me. We had an argument a few nights ago. Stupid, really. There's a lot of bad feeling about the Irish here, but it shouldn't have happened. Then last night, I, I didn't expect to see her there. She came down from the office. She'd been drinking. She wouldn't come with me, so Andrew took her home. Does he know? 

Foyle: Er, not spoken to him yet. 

Rex: Poor Connie. Poor girl. God, what a waste! 

Milner: How close were you? Had you talked about getting married? 

Rex: Sometimes, yes. But these aren't the right times. We, we took it one day at a time, really. I loved her. Connie was loyal. Funny. She was wonderful. 

Foyle: She ever mention her work at the depot? 

Rex: Not really, no. Day-to-day stuff. She seemed very happy there. 

Foyle: Sure? 

Rex: Yes. Ha. My RAF friends are buying it every day. You never know who's going to be next. But Connie...?

Airfield. Andrew and Foyle are walking together.

Andrew: I can't believe it. I suppose that means you're here officially. Have you told Rex? 

Foyle: I've just seen him. 

Andrew: He'll be shattered. He adored her. You don't think he had anything to do with it? 

Foyle: Well, er... 

Andrew: Oh, come on, Dad, that's absurd! I mean, Rex and Connie were... You've known him since he was twelve, for heaven's sake! A man like that isn't going to throw his girlfriend down some stairs! Even if he has a reason, which Rex didn't. 

They stop inside an storage shed.

Foyle: Andrew... 

Andrew: The man's a hero, Dad. Everyone here admires him. I have to tell you it's not going to go down well, interrogating him. 

Foyle: Well, I have to tell you I don't have any choice. And if it was anybody but the two of you, they'd be down at the station right now. 

Andrew: Me? Are you telling me I'm a suspect as well? 

Foyle: It's obviously escaped your attention, but until proved otherwise, you are the last person to have seen her alive. But no, you're not a suspect. 

Andrew: Well, yeah, I, I drove her home. What of it? 

Foyle: Then what? 

Andrew: Nothing! I dropped her off and went back to the club! All right? 

Foyle brings out the photograph of Andrew.

Foyle: Remember this? 

Andrew: Yeah, this was taken when I got my wings. I gave you a copy. Is this it? 

Foyle: No, it's not. I found this in her diary. I found her diary, under her pillow. 

Andrew: What? 

Foyle: Did you give it to her? 

Andrew: No. 

Foyle: How did she get it, then? 

Andrew: Well, I've no idea. 

Foyle: Did you give one to anyone else? 

Andrew: What do you think, Dad? Do you think I paper them around town? I gave one to you because it was something special. How can you even think that?

Foyle: You did not give a copy of this photograph to Connie Dewar? 

Andrew: No, I did not! 

Foyle: Well, did Violet? Who you were with last night. 

Andrew: Did she tell you that? 

Foyle: Yep. 

Andrew: Did she say anything else? 

Foyle: Yep. I know the name of the hotel, the number of the room. 

Andrew huffs and turns away.

Foyle: Well, listen, for God's sake, I mean, we've got a d*ad girl here, last heard making thr*at. You make it your business to drive her home. You're one of the last people to see her alive, your photograph's found in her diary-

Andrew: Have you been investigating me? You send Sam in to spy on me and on my friends? And what's more, you've been digging up the dirt on Violet and me! 

Foyle: Well, why couldn't you tell me? How, how do you think I feel, finding out you've been sneaking off to some godforsaken place with some girl and I'm the last person to know about it. 

Andrew: Well, what, would you rather I'd taken her home? 

Foyle: Do you love this girl? 

Andrew: She's not this girl! Her name is Violet. And it's none of your business! You know, Dad, I don't think you know me at all. I don't think you have any idea what goes on in my head. You come here, of all places, and you ask these questions as if anybody really gives a damn. Connie's d*ad! I had nothing to do with it. Rex had nothing to do with it! So just chuck it! 

He storms off.

Foyle's office. He sits going through Connie's diary. There's a knock on the door.

Foyle: Yep. 

Milner enters the office.

Milner: I've just seen the medical report, sir. 

Foyle: Yeah. Yes, um, she was four months pregnant, wasn't she? 

Milner: Yes, sir. 

Foyle: In here, she says she's, er, not been feeling well for a while. Um, and the last entry is about still feeling bad. "Appointment with DH."

Milner: DH? 

Foyle: There's a lot of shorthand. Could be a doctor. 

Milner: Does she name the father? 

Foyle: Unfortunately not. 

Milner: Rex Talbot would be the obvious choice. 

Foyle: Well, there's a lot about him. Does or doesn't he love me? Um, is he seeing anyone else? There's something about a planned double wedding. 

Milner: Double wedding? 

Foyle: Her and Talbot and, er, Violet Davies and, um... my son. 

Milner: Does she mention the fuel deliveries or any involvement in the petrol racket? 

Foyle: A couple of oblique references. Um... A sort of record of payments. "£10 from MB. £5 from MB."

Milner: MB. Michael Bennett. 

Foyle: Mmm. She's, she's, she's being paid almost weekly. I mean, this must be a heck of a lot of fuel we're talking about. 

Milner: Enough to make an arrest? 

Foyle: Well, it's still not clear if she was k*lled, why she was k*lled, and what she was doing with a photograph of, er, my son. 

Milner: That's not mentioned in the diary? 

Foyle: No, it's not. Since it seems either of them could be the father, wouldn't it be a good idea to find out if either of them knew she was pregnant? 

Milner: Yes, sir. 

Foyle: And while we're at it, we'll get Sam out of the depot. Leave that to me. 

Milner: Yes, sir. 

He moves to leave.

Foyle: Listen, the, er, bicarbonate of soda. It turns out Connie Dewar might have taken it for, um, morning sickness. Spoken to your wife? 

Milner: N-no, sir. 

Foyle: I should. 

Milner: Yes. 

Street. Sam's t*nk is parked behind Foyle's car. The two of them walk round it together.

Sam: So you want me to leave. 

Foyle: Well, you've done as much as you can, and after what's happened, it's too big a risk now. 

And: But nobody knows anything about me. 

Foyle: How do you know? Can't take the chance. 

She sighs.

Sam: All right. I'll hand in my notice. 

Foyle: Take the rest of the day off. Pick me up usual time tomorrow?

Sam: Yes, sir. Whatever you say. 

She goes to get back into the t*nk.

Doctor Henderson's office.

Henderson: Yes, Connie Dewar was a patient of mine. She came to see me a couple of days ago. 

Foyle: And you told her that, um, she was expecting a child? 

Henderson: You'd have thought it'd be self-evident. She was four months gone, but in fact she had no idea. 

Foyle: Was she pleased? 

Henderson: She was shocked. That was the overriding emotion. 

Foyle: I don't suppose she, er, told you the name of the father. 

Henderson: No, I'm afraid not. She did say she was still seeing him. She said she was going to tell him the news after she left me. 

Foyle: Right. Thank you. 

He stands up to go.

Henderson: Out of interest, Mr Foyle, how did you find me? 

Foyle: Well, she kept a diary and, er, made a reference to a DH, and we simply looked for local doctors with those initials. 

Henderson: I see. Only my Christian name's Graham. 

Foyle: Yeah, it confused us a bit, but, um, eventually, we decided that the D just must have stood for doctor. 

Henderson: Oh. And now she's d*ad. I'm very sorry to hear it. What a terrible waste of a young life. 

Foyle: Mmm. Two. 

Henderson: Indeed. 

Depot office. Sam arrives and knocks on the open door. Michael Bennett looks up as she arrives. Pamela is working in the background.

Bennett: Ah! Miss Stewart, I'm glad to see you. 

Sam: Mr Bennett, I've got some rather bad news. 

Bennett: We've got a rush on deliveries! This business with Miss Dewar! 

Sam: Actually, sir... 

Bennett: Mrs Bennett and I have to meet the girl's parents. We won't be here. Just leave the paperwork on my desk, do you understand?

Sam: Yes, sir. 

Bennett: What was it you were going to say? Bad news? 

Sam: No, nothing. Er, I'll, I'll tell you tomorrow. 

Bennett: Right. 

Sam leaves the office and Bennett turns to his wife.

Bennett: Come on! 

Wing Commander Turner's office. Rex is standing to attention.

Turner: How are you bearing up, Rex? 

Rex: I'm all right. Thank you, sir. 

Turner: I was so sorry to hear about your girl. Are you ready to fly? 

Rex: To be honest, sir, I, I can't wait to get back in the air. 

Turner: Good man. We've been lucky, in a way. As most of the action has been to the east of us in Kent, it's given us a chance to get the new chaps up to scratch. However, all that's about to change. 

Rex: We're back on ops? 

Turner: Any day now, yes. Things are about to get very tight. You know how much I depend on you. I wanted to be sure you were ready. 

Rex: Very much so, sir. 

Turner: Good. 

Turner sees the police car pull up outside the window.

Turner: The police have come back. You don't have to talk to them if you don't want to, you know?

Rex: I don't mind, sir. I think I owe it to her. 

Turner: All right. Dismissed. 

Rex salutes and leaves.

Mess tent. Rex enters with Milner.

Rex: Well? How can I help you? 

Milner: Were you aware Miss Dewar was pregnant? 

Rex: Pregnant? 

Milner: She didn't tell you? 

Rex: No. 

Milner: Were you the father? 

Rex: What? Yes, of course I was the father. Who else could have been? 

Milner: That's what I'm asking you. 

Rex: God, how dare you talk about Connie like that! She's only been d*ad a day and you're treating her like some kind of... I was the father, yes. 

Milner: Then why didn't she tell you? 

Rex: Because... I suppose she didn't want to put any pressure on me. 

Milner: To marry her? 

Rex: I told you the last time we met, we talked about marriage, but not yet. Not until after the duration. 

Milner: Could you have married her? 

Rex: What do you mean? 

Milner: What would your family have thought? 

Rex: My father's d*ad. My mother... I don't know. 

Milner: But if she was expecting your child... 

Rex: Oh, what are you saying now? That I k*lled her because I didn't want to be dragged into a marriage that was beneath me? That's not true. I'm not a snob. I loved her. And anyway, I've already said. She didn't tell me. I didn't know! When was it due? 

Milner: She'd been pregnant four months. 

Rex: She didn't tell me. But it was mine, Sergeant Milner. Maybe I didn't want a child. I, I don't know what to think. But it was definitely mine. 

Outside the Flamingo. Foyle walks in.

Gannon's office.

Gannon: How's your investigation going, Mr Foyle? This petrol business. 

Foyle: Connie Dewar. You know her? 

Gannon: What gives you that idea? 

Foyle: She used to wax barrels in your brewery. 

Gannon: Well, I'm not denying it. Yes, Connie worked for me. 

Foyle: D'you know she's d*ad? 

Gannon: I heard. Tragic. Yes, death seems to follow you around, Mr Foyle. 

Foyle: Quite the opposite. I follow it. Did you know she was pregnant? Did you know you were the father? 

Gannon: Did she tell you that? 

Foyle: The doctor told her she was pregnant. She was going to tell the father as soon as she left the surgery. She came straight here to your office. Three hours later, she's d*ad. 

Gannon is silent for a moment and sits down.

Gannon: I was very fond of Connie. I looked after her. And when her boyfriend got sh*t down, well, of course, she came to me. He'd been in hospital for about, er, three weeks or so, and I had to comfort her. I suppose one thing led to another. I know it doesn't sound so good, Frank Gannon having his wicked way while the ace boyfriend is giving his all for king and country. It didn't have to be me. Could have been Rex. For all I know it could have been anyone. 

Foyle: You're married, I believe. 

Gannon: Yes. And a baby would have been an embarrassment, but speaking off the record, Mr Foyle, she didn't have to have it. I know the law. But I also know people who respect the law less than me. And I could have found someone to... help her. 

A country field. Violet and Andrew are walking hand in hand.

Andrew: So you met my father. 

Violet: Did he tell you? 

Andrew: He interrogated me. 

Violet: Why? He doesn't think you've got anything to do with Connie, does he? 

Andrew: Apparently, he does. 

Violet: That's daft! 

Andrew: Well, I took her home. And... she had a photograph of me under her pillow. 

Violet: What? 

Andrew: He found it. 

Violet: Connie had your picture? 

Andrew: I don't know how she got it. 

She lets go of his hand.

Violet: Are you saying she... Were you and her...?

Andrew: Oh, no.

Violet: Then why did she have your picture? 

Andrew: That's what I'm asking. 

Violet: Why did you take her home, anyway? I don't understand you sometimes. First of all it was you and that new girl Sam Stewart. Now, you and Connie! I thought we were going to get married! 

Andrew: Is that what you told my father? 

Violet: Yes. 

Andrew: I wish you hadn't. 

Violet: Why not? It's true, isn't it? Andrew? 

Andrew: Er, I mean, I... It's not the right time to be talking about it. 

Violet: Well, it was the right time when you were trying to get me into bed with you. 

Andrew: Violet? 

Violet: You're all the same, you airmen. You think you're God's gift! Well, I've got news for you, Mr Foyle, you're not. 

Andrew: What are you trying to say? 

Violet: I've had enough of you. Connie always said you can never trust a pilot. And she was right! 

She walks away.

Depot yard. Sam parks the t*nk and gets out. There's no one around and she heads through into the office, closing the door.

Outside. A man, his face unseen, walks past the t*nk.

Office. Sam crouches down by the safe and enters the combination. She gets it open and starts going through the paperwork, then hears a door slam somewhere in the corridor. She shoves the papers back in and closes the safe. As footsteps approach, she hides under the desk. The man comes in and places the suitcase with the b*mb on the desk. He arms it, starting it ticking, and then leaves, padlocking the office door behind him.

Inside the office. Sam crawls back out from under the desk and looks at the ticking suitcase. She opens it and sees the b*mb.

Sam presses up against the office door, looking through the window.

Sam: Hello? Is there anybody there? Could you let me out? Hello? Help! 

She tugs at the door, but can't open it.

Sam: Hello? 

She runs over to look at the timer on the b*mb. It has about ten minutes to go. Sam runs to the window.

Sam: Hello? Help! Hello! 

She runs over to the office phone and begins to dial.

Foyle's office. He's on the way out of the door when the phone rings.

Foyle: (God.)

He goes back and sits down to answer it.

Foyle: Yes? 

Sam (over phone): Sir, it's Sam. 

Foyle: Sam, what is it? 

Cut back and forth between the depot and Foyle's office.

Sam: I'm at the depot. In the Bennetts' office. 

Foyle: What are you doing there? 

Sam: It's a long story. The point is there's, there's a b*mb. 

Foyle: There's a what? 

Sam: It's in a suitcase. Someone left it here. I couldn't see who it was, I'm afraid. But I've sort of got stuck in this office. 

Foyle stands up from his desk.

Foyle: What do you mean, you're stuck in the office? 

Sam: I'm locked in and it looks as if it's going to go off pretty soon. 

Foyle: Soon? How soon? 

Sam: Ten minutes, I'd say, sir. 

Foyle: Well, get out of a window. Break a window! 

Sam: I'll try. 

Foyle: And if you can't do that, you get behind something solid. Lie flat behind a desk or a table or something. On my way. 

He hangs up.

Depot office. Sam turns a table on its side and gets down on the floor behind it.

A police car drive through the streets with bells ringing, Foyle's car following.

The timer on the b*mb continues to tick down. Seven minutes left, then three. Then it passes the hour mark, and keeps ticking. Sam peers up at it for a moment, then ducks back down.

Depot yard. Cars screech to a halt, bells still ringing. As Foyle gets out, a military vehicle arrives behind them.

Man (offscreen): I'll take the door.

Man (offscreen): Yeah.

Foyle leads the way inside.

Policeman: This way now. Up the stairs.

Office. The timer has now reached several minutes past the hour mark. Sam is still behind the desk.

Corridor outside. Someone breaks through the padlock with a f*re axe. Foyle is the first in through the door, followed by two men from the b*mb squad.

Foyle: Sam? 

She crawls out from behind the table.

Sam: Sir! It's over there! 

Foyle: Oh, hell.

He and Sam leave while the b*mb disposal officers run over to the b*mb.

Officer: Okay, steady now. 

The b*mb is still ticking. Then it stops.

Depot yard. Sam is standing in front of the b*mb disposal vehicle.

Foyle: I mean, what on Earth did you think you were doing? Really?

Sam: I just wanted to get these. 

She pulls the paperwork from the safe out of her overalls.

Foyle: These? What are they? 

Sam: Requisition orders. They were in the safe. 

Foyle: You were just totally irresponsible. I mean, you could have got yourself k*lled. 

Sam: Well, whoever it was didn't know I was in there, sir. 

Foyle: And you didn't see anything at all? 

Sam: I'm afraid not. 

One of the b*mb disposal officers arrives with the suitcase.

Officer: It's all right, sir. It's safe. You were very lucky, miss. Not very cleverly put together. 

He opens the case to show them.

Officer: It should have gone off ten minutes ago. 

Foyle: Right. Thank you. 

Officer: I don't know what the aim was, sir, but there's enough expl*sive there to blow this whole place to kingdom come. 

Foyle: O'Halloran? 

Sam: Do you think so, sir? I can't be sure. Could the IRA have anything to do with it? 

Foyle: Well... 

Sam: But how are you gonna prove it? 

Foyle: Mmm. Anyway, are you all right? 

Sam: I think so, sir. Look, I'm really sorry. 

Foyle: Well, not as sorry as I'd have been if you'd been k*lled. I mean, the sergeant's a terrible driver.

They head back to the car. The b*mb disposal officer hands the case to a policeman.

Officer: Right you are, sir.

O'Halloran's house. He's packing a suitcase when a policeman bursts in, followed by Foyle and Milner.

O'Halloran: What the... 

Foyle: Are you off back to Ireland, Mr O'Halloran? 

O'Halloran: Who are you? 

Foyle: I thought I ought to return this. 

He holds up the case with the b*mb.

O'Halloran: Jesus! 

Foyle: Right, so you know what it is. 

Milner: You're under arrest for attempted m*rder. I have to caution you that you're not obliged to say anything, but anything you do say will be taken down and used in evidence against you. 

O'Halloran: m*rder? I didn't try to m*rder anyone! 

Gannon's office. He's sitting down with Carter when the door opens. A pair of policemen enter, followed by Foyle and Milner.

Gannon: What is this? 

Foyle: Well, this is, er, an arrest, Mr Gannon. 

Gannon: I don't think I've done anything wrong, Mr Foyle. 

Milner: The b*mb. It didn't go off, and O'Halloran talked. 

Foyle: Is your name Carter? 

Carter: Yeah. 

Foyle: Right.

Milner: You're under arrest too. 

Carter: On what charge? 

Foyle: Er, purloining of petrol, conspiracy to commit sabotage. And for your outstanding contribution to the w*r effort, it gives me great pleasure to know that you're going to spend a very long time doing hard labour. 

One of the policemen hauls Carter away. The other stands by Gannon. After a moment, Gannon stands up.

Foyle (voiceover): And the, er, three of them have now been arrested. 

Fuel depot office. Foyle and Milner are there talking to Michael Bennett while Leonard Evans goes over the paperwork.

Foyle: It's difficult to know how much, er, fuel has been involved, but we have to be talking about thousands of gallons. 

Evan: It's unbelievable. 

Bennett: I knew nothing about it, Mr Evans. I swear to you on my soul! 

Behind him Pamela is watching all this.

Bennett: I, I'm not a racketeer! I never even met this man, Gannon. 

Evan: I've said this already, but I've never had any reason to doubt this man's honesty. 

Bennett: May well be the case, but, um, Connie Dewar was certainly involved. 

Milner: Yes, we have her diary, and it records several payments to her by an MB. 

Evan: Michael Bennett. 

Milner: We now know how the thefts were achieved. Sam gave us a very good idea of the working practice here. 

Pamela: Sam who? 

Milner: Sam Stewart. 

Pamela: Samantha Stewart was working for you? 

Foyle: Yes. Sorry to have, er, kept it from you. 

Milner: From what she told us, the system seemed pretty cut and dried. Requisition orders were made. Copies were kept at both ends. Everything seemed above board. 

Evans: Well, I designed the system myself. 

Milner: Yes, I understand. But all the requisitions were brought here by dispatch riders. 

Flashback to a dispatch rider arriving and handing the requisition slip to Pamela.

Milner (voiceover): But it was interesting that it was Mrs Bennett who nearly always met them. But suppose she exchanged the real requisition order for a fake one. 

Pamela tucks the order slip into her inside pocket, and pulls another out of a different pocket.

Milner (voiceover): Nobody would know. 

Flashback to Pamela bringing the slip to Michael Bennett.

Milner (voiceover): A customer demands 300 gallons. Mrs Bennett changes the order to 500.

Flashback to Connie climbing down from the t*nk and being met by Bennett.

Milner (voiceover): And that's what Connie Dewar takes from the depot. 

Flashback to Sam and Connie emptying fuel from the t*nk.

Milner (voiceover): She then delivers the 300 gallons to the customer.

Flashback to Connie driving through the woods.

Milner (voiceover): Leaving 200 to be handed over to Frank Gannon. All the figures seem to add up. And it will be months if not years before anyone realises anything is wrong. 

Depot office. Bennett turns to look at his wife.

Bennett: Pamela? 

Pamela: I don't know what you're talking about. I make no decisions here. My husband's in charge. 

Bennett: Yeah, she's absolutely right. I mean, I can't believe what you're saying! My wife couldn't possibly- 

Foyle: Do you know, er, who recruited Connie Dewar? 

Bennett: Um... 

Foyle: Were you aware that she'd worked for Frank Gannon before she came here? 

Bennett: No! 

Foyle: He had met your wife and recruited her, and your wife recruited Connie Dewar. 

Evan: But in the diary, you said the initials of the man who was paying Miss Dewar were MB. 

Milner: Yes. Connie used, er, an irregular shorthand. DH, for example, was Dr Henderson. So it's quite possible that MB could have stood for Mrs Bennett. 

Bennett: No, no, no, no, no, you're wrong! You're quite wrong. Not Pamela. She couldn't. 

Pamela: Of course I could! 

Bennett: What?

Pamela: Have you no idea what you put me through? Watching you strut around this depot like... h*tler. So full of yourself! You treat me like dirt. I work for you. You don't even give me any money of my own! I have to watch you with the other girls. The way you run your eyes over them. Even when I'm there. For heaven's sake! You humiliate me every day. 

Foyle: And Gannon? 

Pamela: He offered me a way out. Money. Independence. A chance to live my own life after the w*r. And nobody would know it was me. That was the beauty of it. I'd get all the money. He'd get all the blame. Connie understood. We were laughing at you. That was the best part! It made us feel good. 

Depot yard. Pamela is lead out to a car by a policeman.

Policeman: Here you are, sarge. She's all yours.

Evans, Foyle and Milner come out of the building behind her.

Evans: There's one thing I don't understand. The b*mb. 

Foyle: It was intended to destroy any records, any evidence in the main office here of how much fuel had really been taken and any links it might have had with Gannon. 

Evans: And O'Halloran? 

Milner: He was a hired hand. And a clever choice. We might have believed there was a political motive for the expl*si*n. The IRA, for example. But in fact the b*mb was there just to cover up a petty crime. 

Evans: What about the girl, Mr Foyle? 

Foyle: Yeah?

Evans: Do you know who k*lled her? 

Foyle: Maybe. 

He and Milner get into the car.

RAF base. Sam waits by the car.

Rex (voiceover): Hello, sir.

Foyle: Hello, Rex. 

Rex: I rather thought I'd be seeing you again. 

Foyle: Hmm. So you'd know why. 

Rex: I knew you'd work it out. Andrew's spoken so much about the way you work. How did you know? 

Foyle: Well, you gave yourself away rather early, you know. 

Rex: Did I? 

Foyle: Remember the first time we came here to let you know that Connie had been found d*ad? And you said, er, "Have you spoken to Violet? Violet must have been there. They lived together. She must have seen what happened." So you knew it happened at the flat. Just as you knew that, er, in fact, Violet hadn't been there because, er, you were. 

Rex: It was because of the baby. I knew she was pregnant. I knew she was going to have a child. She would have forced me to marry her. It was out of the question. My mother wouldn't hear of it. 

Foyle: Well, the baby wasn't yours. 

Rex: What? 

Foyle: Well, you know perfectly well the baby wasn't yours. It was conceived when you were in hospital after you'd been sh*t down. 

Rex: What, what are you saying? 

Foyle: I'm saying that you tried to use the baby to hide the truth, just as you used Connie to hide the truth. 

Rex: Please, sir. 

Foyle: See, I couldn't find a reason why, um, Connie would have had a photograph of Andrew. But you see, then I'd assumed it was her photograph when in fact, it was yours, wasn't it? 

Rex: Yes. 

Flashback to the fight at the Flamingo. Rex stands up to join the others.

Connie: Rex, please! 

Rex: Sorry. Look after this for me, will you? 

He tosses her his jacket and his wallet falls out.

Rex (voiceover): I'd asked her to hold my jacket. 

Connie sees the edge of the photo of Andrew sticking out and draws it out.

Rex (voiceover): My wallet must have fallen out of my pocket. 

Foyle: (voiceover): It's all in the diary. 

Mess tent.

Foyle: She was confused about your feelings for her. The lack of anything physical. And the photograph explained everything. Um, you're not interested in women, are you, Rex? 

Rex: No, sir. The truth is I- the truth is, I had feelings-

Foyle: Andrew. 

Rex: Yes. I disgust you. 

Foyle: Not at all. 

Rex: I wish I could believe that. 

Foyle: It's true. 

Rex: I couldn't let the other chaps know the truth about me. You don't understand the spirit of this place. Friendships. It was more than that. They wouldn't have let me fly any more. They'd have kicked me out. I couldn't let that happen. 

Foyle: I think you do them an injustice. 

Rex: I couldn't risk it. Connie guessed the truth. She thr*at to expose me. 

Flashback to Connie in the Flamingo.

Connie: I know something! D'you know what I know? I've got a little secret! And maybe it's about time I started sharing it around! 

Flashback to Rex and Connie on the landing at the block of flats.

Rex: Connie, listen to me. You mustn't tell anyone! 

Connie: Why not? You used me! You never loved me! You only pretended! You said you were going to marry me! You wouldn't marry me! You, you didn't even want to touch me! 

He takes hold of her arms.

Rex: Oh, Connie! I am... I'm fond of you. I- 

Connie: You just used me so that nobody would know what you really are! 

Rex: I had to! If you tell them, they won't let me fly. 

Connie: I don't care! I hate you! I wish I'd never met you! You make me sick! 

She struggles to pull away from him.

Rex: Please! 

She manages to yank away from him and crashes into the wall, tumbling down the staircase.

Rex: Connie!

He looks down at her where she lies below.

Rex (voiceover): I didn't push her. She fell. 

Mess tent.

Foyle: Why were there bruises on her wrists? 

Rex: Oh, does it really matter, sir? Does any of it really matter? And it was an accident. Does it have to go any further? 

A bell begins to ring.

Rex: That's the call to scramble. You're right, of course, Mr Foyle. I, I have to answer for Connie. Manslaughter, m*rder, whatever you want to call it. But surely it can wait until I get back. 

Foyle: I can't let you leave. 

Rex: I have to, sir! You don't understand. I'm flying number one in first section. It'll jeopardise the op if I suddenly duck out. I'm not going to run away. I've nowhere to go. For the others, sir, I beg you. Let me fly this one last time. 

Foyle looks down for a moment, then gives him a nod.

Rex: Thank you. 

He moves to leave, then stops.

Rex: There was one other thing. I would so much prefer it if Andrew didn't know. We can just say it was because of the baby. I think I can bear any shame. But not that. 

Foyle nods again.

Outside. A line of Spitfires ready to take off.

Equipment shed. The pilots are getting into their flying gear. Rex arrives to join them.

Andrew: Ah, there you are, Talbot. I thought you were going to sit this one out. 

Rex: As if anyone would let you go out without me there to hold your hand. 

Douglas: Your tenth k*ll, Rex. 

Rex: Yes. Well, if Foyle doesn't snatch it away. 

Andrew: I'm not coming near you. 

Wing Commander Turner enters.

Turner: Come on, chaps. Get a move on. 

Man (offscreen): Yes, sir! Passed the go, sir. Come on, chaps, get out there! Come on.

Andrew and Rex are the last two left. Rex claps him on the arm.

Rex: Good luck, Andrew. Proud to fly with you. Always have been. 

He leaves and Andrew moves to follow.

Outside. Sam stands watching as the Spitfires take off. Foyle emerges from Turner's office behind her.

Sam: Home, sir? 

Foyle: Home, Sam. 

He stands for a moment to watch the Spitfires fly away.

Foyle house, night. Foyle paces with a drink, the wireless playing a comedy show in the background. He hears the noise of the front door and moves to turn it off.

The door to the front room opens and Andrew comes in.

Andrew: Dad. 

Foyle: Andrew. 

Andrew: I'm sorry we argued. 

Foyle: So am I. My fault. 

Andrew: Rex is d*ad. Dog-fight, over the Channel. There were about twenty of them, 109s. We intercepted them at 12,000 feet. They came at us like a swarm. I was in Rex's flight, as always. And he... I've never seen flying like that. He must have bagged at least half a dozen of them. More. Then suddenly, there were two of them on his tail. I thought he'd come out. I kept on waiting to see him come out on his chute. And there I was to protect him. The plane was spinning. It was on f*re. I suppose he must have been knocked out. I watched it go all the way down. 

Foyle: I'm sorry. 

Andrew: I, I don't know how I'll be able to carry on, Dad. He was my best friend. 

Foyle: He was a good man. So... Carry on for him. 

Andrew nods.

Andrew: A good man. 

He steps forward to hug his father. Foyle pats him on the back.

Foyle: He was one of the best.
{"type": "series", "show": "Foyle's War", "episode": "02x02 - Among The Few"}