Countryside. An armed soldier herds a flock of sheep across the hillside.

CAPTION: AUGUST 1942

Military base. Soldiers patrol both inside and outside the fence.

Base infirmary. Mark Wilcox, dressed in a civilian suit, walks along the corridor to the room where Simon Higgins sits up in bed, his eyes bandaged. He turns his head as he hears the door opening.

Mark: Simon?

Simon: Good morning, Mark. 

Mark: How are you? 

Simon: Just missed the quack. No change, I'm afraid. 

Mark: But you are going to be all right? 

Simon: Apart from being blind, you mean? 

Mark: You shouldn't have done it. 

Simon: It's only temporary, Mark. I'll be fine. What about the new test? 

Mark: We're going ahead now. 

Simon: Halliday in charge? 

Mark: Yes. 

Simon: He's got no bloody idea what he's doing. Do be careful, won't you? 

Mark: You're a fine one to speak. 

Simon: Just keep an eye on him. 

Mark leaves.

Test site. Men in protective suits and masks set up a canister atop a raised metal frame on a beach. Captain George Halliday watches them through binoculars from a distance. Mark Wilcox stands beside wearing one of the protective suits.

Halliday: Wind direction? 

Mark: South-southeast. 

Halliday: That's perfect, then. Let's get on with it. 

Mark: Captain, I really think this is not-

Halliday: I have my orders, Wilcox. So do you. 

He walks off. Mark holds up a red flag to signal the men on the beach.

Man: It's the red flag!

One of the men makes a final adjustment to the canister, then climbs down from the framework. Another raises a red flag to return the signal. Mark goes to join Halliday in a protective pillbox.

Halliday: Are you going to do the honours? 

Mark attaches a wire to a detonator and raises the plunger.

Mark: Ready? 

Halliday nods and puts a gas mask on. Mark puts his own on, checks the men are clear of the test site, then pushes the plunger. The canister explodes. A cloud of white smoke spreads, passing over enclosures where sheep are held in individual pens.

Later. A lorry drives along a road through the woods. As it screeches through a turn, a d*ad sheep falls off of the back and lands in the road. The driver keeps going, oblivious.

OPENING CREDITS

Hastings beach. Sam and Farnetti walk along the edge of the water.

Sam: So, how's your new billet? 

Farnetti: Well, it's better than the old one. We're staying in this duke's place. Never seen any place so big in my life. Or so damp. 

Sam: It rained a lot last month. 

Farnetti: Yeah? Well, it looks like it rained a lot for the last thousand years. I have to tell you, I can't wait to get back to California. 

Sam: Do you mean that? 

Farnetti: Well, w*r can't last for ever. I mean, especially now that we're here. You know, everything that's happening in France and things aren't looking too good for Rommel in Africa, and looks like things might work out in Dieppe. I'm telling you, it's not going to last much longer. 

Sam: And then you'll shove off home, I suppose? 

Farnetti: You bet! Aw, man, I'm on the first boat out of here. Provided, that is, that you come with me. 

Sam: Me? 

Farnetti: Come on, Sam. You know how I feel about you. 

Sam: You've only known me a short while. 

Farnetti: Well, the best while of my life. 

Sam: Come on. You've been cold and damp and miserable. 

Farnetti: Yeah. Cold and damp and miserable, and more than a little grateful to the Jerries 'cause without them, I'd never have met you. 

Sam: Joe.

Farnetti: I mean it.

He grasps her hands.

Farnetti: I want you to marry me. I want you to come home with me. I want you to meet my family. You got to meet my mom. She's gonna love you. I want you to have kids with me. And I want to never let you go. 

Sam: Is this a proposal? 

Farnetti: Well, I suppose- I suppose it is. You want me to do it properly? 

Sam: No. 

Farnetti: Oh, well, it's too late. 

He goes down on one knee. Sam covers her face with her hand.

Sam: Oh, God.

Farnetti: Will you marry me, Sam?

He stands up, patting his pockets.

Farnetti: Wait, wait, wait. I don't have a ring. 

He grabs a shell from the beach nearby.

Farnetti: Okay. This sea shell will have to do, right? 

He gets back down on one knee. Sam laughs.

Farnetti: You're the most beautiful girl I ever met and I want to marry you. What do you say? 

Sam: Get up, Joe!

Farnetti: No. Not until you give me an answer. Is that a yes or a no? 

Police station. Foyle enters the reception area to find Sergeant Brooke up a stepladder removing a lightbulb.

Brooke: Morning, sir. 

Foyle: Morning. What, um...? 

A woman, Edith Ashford, is sitting on one of the benches in the waiting area.

Brooke: Ah. Orders from the Assistant Commissioner, sir. Forget the spivs, the racketeers and all the rest of it. What really matters is these new fuel targets. Light bulbs. 

Foyle: I see. 

Brooke: Well, you won't for much longer. Meant to be taking out half the lights in the building. So far, we're up to 40. 

Foyle: Couldn't we just, um, not turn them on? 

Brooke: Need the bulbs, sir. 

Foyle: Oh, right. Right. Er, tried my office? 

Brooke: Wouldn't go in without your say-so, sir. But if you can help... 

Foyle: I'll take a look. 

Brooke: Afraid that's not the end of it, sir. From now, the canteen will only be serving hot food three times a week. So we can look forward to Spam sandwiches all round. 

Foyle: Wonderful. 

He heads through into the back. A moment later, Milner arrives.

Brooke: Mr Milner. Young lady to see you. 

Edith stands up from the bench.

Edith: Paul. 

Milner: Edie. Edith Ashford. 

Edith: Yes. 

Milner: You are still Miss Ashford? 

Edith: Yes, I'm not married. 

Milner: Gosh. I haven't seen you for what? Eight years? 

Edith: Nearly ten, I think. I heard you were in the forces. 

Milner: Yes, I was. 

Edith: And then you came here. You always said you wanted to be a detective. 

Milner: I did. 

Edith: I... didn't know whether to come or not, but the truth is I didn't have anyone else to turn to. 

Milner: Why, are you in trouble? 

Edith: No. Not me. My brother.

Milner: Martin. 

Edith: I didn't know if you'd remember him. 

Milner: Of course I would. He was the smallest boy in school. He was only, what? Six or seven? He was just starting when I left. 

Edith: You were very kind to him. That's one of the reasons I thought of you. 

Milner: Why? What's happened to him? 

Edith: He's been arrested. He's been accused of m*rder. 

Foyle's office. Edith sits in front of the desk as Milner and Foyle listen to her story.

Edith: My brother would never hurt anyone. I mean, that's one of the reasons he refused to fight. He's a Quaker. A conscientious objector. That hasn't stopped him doing his bit. He's done firewatching, and ambulance driving. Now he's helping down at Foxhall Farm. 

Foyle: Well, I'm not entirely, er, familiar with the circumstances here, but I gather it's this w*r hero that your brother's accused of m*rder? Is that right?

Edith: Tom Jenkins. 

Milner: Royal Navy. Serving on the Navarino. Part of the convoy was sunk last month. 

Edith: Martin didn't k*ll him. 

Foyle: I understand he was arrested, er, very shortly afterwards? 

Edith: Wrongfully arrested. 

Foyle: Have you spoken to him? 

Edith: That's the trouble. He won't talk to me. He won't talk to anyone. 

Foyle: Which, er, might suggest he's not quite as innocent as you believe him to be? 

Edith: I know Martin didn't do it. He's three years younger than me. I've looked after him all my life. There's nothing I wouldn't do for him. I know him. And I know he wouldn't do this. I'm begging you to help. Would you talk to him? 

Foyle: Well, if he's not talking to anyone, what makes you think he'll talk to us? 

Milner: Well, he knew Paul. I mean, Mr Milner. We were close once. The two of us. And he knew... 

Foyle: Well, this, er, might not be quite as easy as you think. Um... 

Milner: Martin was arrested further down the coast, at Hythe. That's not in our jurisdiction. 

Edith: But you must know people. There's a policeman called Fielding. DCS Fielding. Can't you talk to him? Please. I've got no one else to turn to. Please, tell me at least you'll try. 

Cartwright house. Leonard Cartwright, a young man with a scar across his right eye, fills the teapot and takes it over to the breakfast table. His father Ted walks in.

Ted: I'm leaving, then. 

Leonard: Where are you going? 

Ted: I had a call from Brian Jones. Something's wrong with his cattle, so I'm getting down to Foxhall. 

He opens and checks his case of veterinary equipment. One of the tools is missing from its place.

Ted: You could come if you like. 

Leonard: No. 

Ted: So what are you gonna do? 

Leonard: I don't know, Dad. 

Ted: You just going to mope around here all day? 

Leonard: I don't know, Dad. Maybe I'll go out for a walk. Don't worry about me. 

Ted: I'll see you, then. 

Foxhall Farm. Ted drives up and parks in front of the farmhouse. The farmer, Brian Jones, walks over to meet him as he gets out.

Ted: Morning, Brian. 

Brian: You made it, then. 

Ted: I said ten o'clock, didn't I? So, where are they? 

Brian: This way. 

Cowshed. Ted examines one of the cows while Brian watches.

Ted: Hmm. Come on, love. Come on, girl. Gotcha. Get here.

He urges the cow into position.

Brian: So what is it, then? 

Ted: I'm not sure. 

Brian: Well, that's not very good. 

Ted: I'd say it's some sort of flu. 

Brian: Not flu. 

Ted: Well, we don't know that. 

Brian: We don't know anything very much, Ted. 

Ted: Mmm. And you said they all got it at the same time? 

Brian: Within 24 hours. 

Ted: It's unusual, a whole herd being affected like this. 

Brian: A herd? There are only six of them. 

Ted: Well, let me look at the samples, and I'll get back to you. 

Brian: All right. 

Ted: You haven't had any other animals here, have you? No one passing through, anything like that? 

Brian: Visitors? 

Ted: Mmm. She's very sick. 

Brian: I can see that. 

Country lane. Sam, Foyle and Milner are driving along.

Foyle: You're unusually quiet. 

Sam: Yes, sir. 

Foyle: Does that mean you're thinking? 

Sam: Yes, sir. 

Foyle: Need any help? 

Sam: No, thank you. I just have to make up my mind about something, and it's, it's rather awkward. I feel as though I've come to a crossroads and I'm afraid of making the wrong turn. 

Foyle: Well, we just have.

He points back over his shoulder.

Foyle: We should have gone that way. Hythe is left. 

Sam: Oh. Sorry. 

She puts the car in reverse.

Woods. A large group of police are at a site where a body has been dug up, under the direction of DCS David Fielding.

Fielding: Someone get a stretcher, for heaven's sake. Why isn't it here? 

Policeman: Yes, sir. 

Fielding turns and spots Foyle and Milner approaching.

Fielding: Foyle. What are you doing here? 

Foyle: Er, well, they, er, told me over at the station this was where I'd find you. 

Fielding: Who'd you speak to? Henderson? And he suggested you walk into the middle of a m*rder investigation without so much as a by-your-leave? 

Foyle: When did you find her? 

Fielding: Ten minutes ago. 

Foyle: Well, then he wouldn't have known what he was sending me into, would he? 

Fielding: You know her? 

Foyle: Who is she? 

Fielding: Her name's Joan Chaplin. prost*tute. She works down the docks in Dover. Or used to. Stupid bloody waste of life. 

The stretcher-bearers arrive.

Fielding: All right. Get her out of there. Where the hell have you been? 

He turns back to Foyle and Milner.

Fielding: Well, if you're not interested in her, what can I do for you? 

Foyle: Martin Ashford? 

Fielding: Oh, another m*rder case, yeah. Local lad. Lives up your way. k*lling took place down here. What d'you want him for? 

Foyle: I don't. It's just there's a personal connection. The sergeant here knows his sister. 

Fielding: Oh. What's your name? 

Milner: Milner, sir. 

Fielding: I see, Milner. So you know his sister. Are you close? 

Milner: We were childhood friends. She came to me because she believes Martin is innocent. 

Fielding: You want to reinvestigate the case? 

Foyle: Well, I wouldn't put it like that exactly. 

Fielding: Have you nothing better to do than to come down here and rake over old ground? 

Foyle: Well, far from it. I just wanted your opinion. I wondered if Milner's connection here might be useful, if only to reassure the sister, but if you don't want us under your feet, I quite understand. 

Fielding coughs.

Fielding: It's getting a bit nippy. The wind gets on my chest. Er, do you mind if we talk inside?

Milner moves to join them.

Fielding: Just the two of us. 

Fielding gets into his car and takes a drink from his flask. Foyle gets in to join him.

Fielding: What the hell you do think you're doing? I haven't seen you for the best part of two years, and you, you walk in here and show me up in front of my own men. 

Foyle: I haven't done anything of the sort. 

Fielding: Look, I spoke to Edith Ashford not once, but several times. She gave me all that stuff about her brother's innocence. Well, I didn't trust her. I didn't believe her, and frankly I'm surprised that you do. Now, let me give you the facts. Thomas Jenkins and Martin Ashford argued publicly and violently, and then they arranged to meet that evening on the beach to settle their differences. That's where Jenkins was k*lled. We know that Ashford was there. He claims that he came upon the body, that Jenkins had been s*ab by some sort of Kn*fe. It took us a while to find it, and the MO's still trying to work out what it is, but I'll tell you where we found it. It was half buried in woodland not 200 yards from where Martin Ashford lived. 

Foyle: Seems pretty straightforward. 

Fielding: We didn't find any fingerprints. It had been wiped clean. But we did find blood stains on Ashford's clothing and it matched those of the d*ad man. He didn't confess. He hasn't denied it either, which more or less adds up to the same thing. So, there you have it. Pretty straightforward, I agree. Now, would you tell me what gives you the right to drive over here and question my judgement? 

Foyle: Not my intention. 

Fielding: No? 

Foyle: No. I told you I don't know anything about this apart from what the sister has told me. I came over here to ask if you, as a friend, would mind me speaking to the man, to put her mind at rest, even if it meant explaining to her that, er, you're right and he's guilty. But as you say, at the same time, he hasn't confessed, so it's possible I could help. 

Fielding: As a friend? 

Foyle: As a friend. 

Police interview room, Hythe. Martin Ashford sits at the table. Milner sits down opposite him. Foyle stands watching in the background.

Milner: D'you remember me, Martin? 

Martin: No. 

Milner: Paul Milner. We were at school together. Ten years ago. 

Martin is silent.

Milner: Your sister Edith came to see us. 

Martin: Why? 

Milner: Because she wants us to help you. 

Martin: You can't help me. 

Milner: Martin, did you k*ll Tom Jenkins? 

Martin: No. 

Milner: But you were there with him on the beach? Why won't you talk to us? 

Martin: I've got nothing to say. 

Milner: Your sister thinks you're innocent. She believes in you. I'd say at the very least you owe it to her to talk to us. 

Martin: What rank are you, Milner? 

Milner: I'm a sergeant. 

Martin: Well, Sergeant Milner, I don't care what Edith thinks, and I don't know why you're here, but I've just told you, I've got nothing to say. 

Foyle: Someone perhaps that you're... protecting? Some argument with, er, Jenkins? What was that about? 

Martin: The w*r. 

Foyle: You're a pacifist, aren't you? 

Martin: That's not what he called me. 

Foyle: What did he call you? Well, whatever it was, no good reason to k*ll him, as far as I'm concerned. 

Martin: I didn't k*ll him. 

Foyle: D'you know who did? 

Martin doesn't answer.

Foyle: You're working on a farm, is that right? 

Martin: Why are you asking me? It's all in the report. 

Foyle: Well, your sister doesn't believe the report. 

Martin: She doesn't know anything. Neither do you. I just want you to leave me alone. 

Foxhall Farm. Brian Jones heads to the cowshed with a bucket of water. He calls his dog to him.

Brian: Hey! Hey, come here. Come on.

He enters the cowshed, and finds it empty of cows. He throws the bucket down with a splash.

Hospital. Edith comes down the front steps and sees Milner waiting for her.

Milner: Edith. 

Edith: Paul! Have you seen him? Have you seen Martin? 

Milner: Yes. We spoke to him earlier. 

Edith: And? 

Milner: I'm afraid he didn't have very much to say. But we're still looking into it. 

Edith: How did you find me here? 

Milner: I saw where you worked. It's in the report. And I thought it would be nice to speak to you again after all this time. 

Edith: Well, I'm absolutely famished. You can take me out for tea. 

Café. Edith and Milner are at a table together.

Edith: The Russians are losing, aren't they? The Germans have taken Sebastopol and that other place. I can never remember the names. They say Stalingrad will be next. Looks as if Joe's finished. 

Milner: I'm sure it's not all bad news. Africa's going our way. 

Edith: I just want the w*r to be over. It's so awful. We get a lot of sailors in, and merchant seamen. They're b*rned and they're half-drowned. It's horrible, the things that have happened to them. 

Milner: When did you become a nurse? 

Edith: Before the w*r. My mother was sister-in-charge at the same hospital. 

Milner: Yes, I remember. 

Edith: And you went straight into the police? 

Milner: More or less, yeah. 

Edith: I remember you after school. You were always playing Bulldog Drummond. Sniffing around in people's back gardens. The Lindens at number 27. You were convinced they were Bolsheviks. 

Milner: Was I? And Martin used to keep lookout for me. 

Edith: He didn't do it, Paul. You believe me, don't you? 

Milner: Mr Foyle thinks he might be protecting someone. Edie? Can you tell me? Is there anyone he might be involved with? 

Edith: No. 

Milner: Are you sure? 

Edith: Of course I am. 

Milner: Then why won't he talk? 

Edith: Is that why you asked me out? To question me? 

Milner: No. I wanted to see you again. 

Seaside promenade. Sam and Farnetti walk along hand-in-hand.

Sam: Tell me about California. I've no idea what it's like. 

Farnetti: What do you think? 

Sam: I don't know. Oranges and movie stars? 

He laughs.

Sam: Everybody in huge cars. 

Farnetti: Sure. Even Lassie has his own limousine. 

Sam: Tell me about the street where you live. 

Farnetti: No. I don't wanna talk about it. I haven't been home in nine months. 

Sam: Why so long? 

Farnetti: Er, they trained us at Fort Benning, Virginia, and they shipped us out here. 

Sam: Have you spoken to your parents? 

Farnetti: They give us six minutes a week. w*r is hell, right? Hey, let's get an iced soda. 

Sam: You'll be lucky. We haven't had ice cream here since 1940. And none of the pubs are open, so don't ask for a beer. 

Farnetti: I love this country, you know? Everything about it is so... 

Sam: What? 

Farnetti: Impossible. 

She laughs.

Farnetti: So have you thought about what I asked? 

Sam: Of course I have. I haven't thought about anything else. 

Farnetti: And? 

Sam: You know I'm very fond of you, Joe. But I hardly know you. My mother would have a fit if I just upped and left without even introducing you first. 

Farnetti: Well, we, we, we could get a horse and buggy and have a dance and invite all the neighbours. 

She laughs.

Sam: You've been reading too much Jane Austen. 

Farnetti: Yeah, well. I would be exceedingly obliged, Miss Stewart, if you would be the next Mrs Farnetti. 

Sam: Stop it. 

Farnetti: Well, is it a yes or a no? 

Sam: I don't know. You'll have to give me more time, I'm afraid. 

Farnetti: Well, you can have all the time you want. 

Sam: Good. 

Foyle's office. Milner knocks on the door.

Foyle (offscreen): Yeah? 

Milner enters to find Foyle standing on the desk unscrewing a lightbulb.

Milner: Sir. 

Foyle: Is he after yours as well? 

He climbs down.

Milner: Yes, sir. He's got two of mine. 

Foyle: What does he do with them? 

Milner: I have no idea. 

Foyle spots the file Milner's carrying.

Foyle: Read that? 

Milner: Yes, sir. Last night. 

Foyle: And? 

Milner: I have to admit DCS Fielding is right. It does look pretty cut and dried. Thomas Stephen Jenkins, aged 26. He was a fisherman before the w*r. He joined the navy and was a petty officer on convoy duty on the Navarino when it was sunk just off the Kola Peninsula. He was awarded the DSM. He managed to break down a burning door.

Flashback to burning wreckage floating in the water.

Milner (voiceover): sh*t the hinges off, got twelve men to safety. They would have died if it wasn't for him. 

Jenkins huddles on a piece of floating debris, shivering with cold.

Milner (voiceover): After that, he jumped overboard and spent six hours in freezing water. He only survived because he managed to cling to a piece of wreckage. If you ask me, he deserved a medal for that alone. 

Flashback to Jenkins walking out arm-in-arm with his wife Elsie, a medal pinned to his coat.

Milner (voiceover): He's married, and his wife is Elsie Jenkins, aged 23. They have one child, a boy of eighteen months. 

Foyle (voiceover): What about, er, Martin Ashford? 

Flashback to Martin drinking a beer in the King's Arms pub.

Milner (voiceover): Single. Unattached as far as we know. He used to work with Jenkins before the w*r. The two of them argued the evening Jenkins got back from the palace.

Jenkins is standing amid a group of people that includes his wife and Edith Ashford, wearing his medal.

Jenkins: Not gonna join us? 

Milner (voiceover): To be fair to Jenkins, he was drunk. 

Jenkins: See that, Martin? That was given to me by the King. Now. Are you gonna buy me a drink? 

Martin: You've had enough. 

Jenkins: Are you ashamed to drink with me? I understand that. I mean, what have you ever done for the w*r? Huh. Bloody conchie. 

Elsie: Leave him, Tom. 

Jenkins: Leave him? Why should I leave him? You know, all those years I knew you, I never put you down as a coward. 

Martin: You're drunk. 

Jenkins: And in the morning I'll be sober and you'll still be a bloody coward. 

Martin: You don't know anything about me. 

Jenkins rushes over and grabs him by the front of his jumper.

Jenkins: Half of my friends are d*ad. They drowned. They b*rned. You, you're skulking away up at Foxhall Farm as if the w*r's nothing to do with you. If everyone was like you, Jerry'd been here years ago. 

Elsie: Tom! 

She pulls him away from Martin. Edith hurries over.

Edith: Come on, Martin. Let's go home. 

Martin: You may have a medal, Tom Jenkins, but I know you for what you are. I don't give a damn about you. 

Jenkins: You wanna step outside? 

Martin stands up.

Martin: I'll meet you any time, anywhere. I'm not afraid of you. 

Jenkins: All right, then. Midnight tonight. Down by the boat on the beach. You and me. 

Edith: Don't be silly. You don't have any reason to fight. 

Jenkins: Getting your big sister to look after you? That's brave. 

Martin: I'll meet you. 

Edith: No. 

Martin: You heard what he called me. 

Edith: It doesn't matter.

Martin: I'm not a coward. 

Elsie: Just forget it, Tom. Come and have another drink. 

Jenkins: I'm waiting for an answer. 

Martin: You want someone to take you down to size, I'll do it. I'm fed up with you, Jenkins. We all are. 

Foyle's office.

Milner: "I'm fed up with you, Jenkins. We all are." Half a dozen people heard him say it. 

Foyle: Not exactly proof of his guilt, though, is it? 

Milner: No. I agree. 

Foyle: Jenkins regularly accuse him of cowardice, or did this argument come out of nothing? 

Milner: Well, sir, they were both very drunk. 

Foyle: So they met? 

Milner: Yes. 

Flashback to Martin leaving Foxhall Farm in the dark.

Milner (voiceover): Martin Ashford left Foxhall Farm just after eleven o'clock. He was carrying something. 

Martin pulls some kind of thin object out of his inner pocket.

Milner (voiceover): It may have been a Kn*fe. He was seen leaving by the farmer.

Brian watches Martin go.

Milner (voiceover): A man called Brian Jones. He happens to be Thomas Jenkins' father-in-law. Elsie Jenkins is his daughter. 

Flashback to Jenkins waiting on the beach.

Milner (voiceover): We know that Thomas Jenkins was on the beach at about 11:15. He was seen by a warden on his way home. As to what happened next...

A figure in a dark coat approaches the beach.

Jenkins: Well, well, well. So you turned up. Now there's a surprise. 

The figure s*ab Jenkins in the chest with some kind of sharp tool, then turns and runs, leaving the w*apon sticking out of him.

Foyle's office.

Milner: According to the police doctor, the Kn*fe, whatever it was, entered between the third and fourth rib, slanting upwards into the heart. 

Foyle: That's very precise. 

Milner: Could have been someone with medical knowledge. 

Foyle: And the evidence, er, against Ashford, again, in a nutshell, is...? 

Milner: He was seen running away from the beach. Jenkins' blood was found later on his clothes. And the w*apon was found in the woodland at Foxhall Farm. 

Foyle: Right. 

Milner: It doesn't look too good, does it, sir? 

Foyle: No. Sure you want to go on with this? 

Milner: Yes, sir. 

There's a knock on the door and Brooke enters.

Brooke: Sorry to disturb you, gentlemen, but I, er, thought you might like to look at this.

He hands Foyle a theft report.

Brooke: When they said they were moving me out of London, I never expected anything like it. It's like something out of the Wild West. Cattle rustling. Er, six animals were taken while the farmer was in Hastings. Do you want me to send someone up there? 

Foyle: Er, no, we'll, um, we'll look into it. Thank you. 

Brooke: Whatever you say, sir. 

He spots the lightbulbs on the desk.

Brooke: Are they for me? 

Foyle: Certainly are. 

Brooke: Ah. Well done, sir. 

He leaves with the bulbs.

Foyle: What's he do with them? 

Milner is looking at the theft report.

Milner: Foxhall Farm. 

Foyle nods.

Foyle: Where's Sam? 

Foxhall Farm. A couple of chickens are on top of the parked car. Sam tries without much success to get them to get down.

Sam: Get off! Come on, off! Go on. Shoo! Shoo! 

Farmhouse. Brian Jones leads Foyle in.

Brian: You took your time. 

Foyle: I'm sorry? 

Brian: I was in Hastings yesterday and I couldn't have been there more than a few hours, and here's something you need to know. There was a car parked as I left. There were two men in it. Now I get to thinking about it, I get the feeling they were watching me. They were waiting for me to leave. 

Foyle: Mr Jones, I'm sorry, I'm not here about your livestock.

Brian: I thought you were the police. 

Foyle: Yes, er, this is about, er, the death of Mr Jenkins. 

Brian: What, you're here about Ashford? 

Foyle: That's right. Er, he worked here? 

Brian: He helped out. He had a room. What more do you want to know? He was quiet, he was a very good worker. He kept himself to himself, really. 

Foyle: You saw him leaving that night with, er, some Kn*fe or other, apparently? 

Brian: He was carrying something long and narrow. I don't know what it was, it was dark. 

Foyle: Right. About, um, Thomas Jenkins? Er, your son-in-law, is that right? 

Brian: Yes. 

Foyle: Did you get on with him? 

Brian: Look, I've just had six head of cattle lifted from me in broad daylight. Jenkins is d*ad, Ashford's in jail. What more d'you need? 

Foyle: Did you get on with him? 

Brian: Of course I got on with him. He was married to my daughter. 

Foyle: Don't seem, erm, very affected by the, er, death of your son-in-law, if you don't mind me saying. 

Brian: You don't know what I feel, Mr Foyle, and I'm not going to tell you. Jenkins died out there on that beach. I suppose because somebody had a grudge against him. That's all there is to it. Now, what I'd like to know is, what are you going to do about my cows? 

Police station, Hythe. Leonard Cartwright paces in a waiting room. DCS Fielding enters.

Fielding: Who are you? What do you want? 

Leonard: My name is Leonard Cartwright. 

Fielding: Cartwright, yes. The desk sergeant told me. 

Leonard: I served with Tom Jenkins on the Navarino. 

Fielding: Well, that's very nice for you, Mr Cartwright, but have you brought me any new information? 

Leonard: Are you the officer in charge of the investigation? 

Fielding: Yes. 

Leonard: Well, you're the one who arrested Martin Ashford. 

Fielding: Yeah. 

Leonard: Well, you've made a mistake. 

Fielding: Have I? 

Leonard: Please, Mr Fielding, hear me out. I owe my life to Tom Jenkins. You know he was decorated for bravery? I was- I was one of the people that he saved. 

Fielding: Go on. 

Leonard: I was floating in the water after, er, we'd been torpedoed and he, he helped me onto a raft. If he hadn't have done that, I'd have frozen to death. 

Fielding: I'd imagine, then, that you'd have every interest in wanting his k*ller brought to justice. 

Leonard: Well, that's exactly the point, yes, of course, but the thing is, you see, I know Martin Ashford. I mean, Hythe is a small place. Everyone knows everyone, and I know he couldn't possibly have committed this crime. 

Fielding: Were you with him at midnight on August the 5th? 

Leonard: No. 

Fielding: Well, were you on the beach? Did you see who did it? 

Leonard: No! Ashford and I are both Quakers. We went to the same meeting house. 

Fielding: You fought? 

Leonard: Yes, I gave up my religion when the w*r began. With what was happening in the world, it just didn't seem relevant any more. 

Fielding: But he didn't. 

Leonard: He's a pacifist. Surely you can see what that means. He doesn't have it in him to k*ll. 

Fielding: Thank you for coming in, Mr Cartwright. 

Leonard: You haven't listened to me. It doesn't matter what I just said. 

Fielding: I have listened to you. You're wasting my time. 

He leaves.

Foxhall Farm. Sam giggles as she makes a fuss of a goat through the barbed-wire fence.

Sam: Hello, you.

The barbed-wire twangs as she catches her right wrist on it.

Sam: Ow! 

She stands up, inspecting the injury.

Brian (offscreen): Six calves gone, disappeared into thin air. No one cares! I think it's a disgrace. 

He and Foyle come round the side of one of the buildings.

Brian: There's a w*r on. They're not just cattle, they're a vital resource. 

Foyle: I understand. This place certainly attracts a lot of traffic. 

Brian: What? What are you talking about? 

Foyle: Do you know who that is? 

Brian: Who? 

There's a car visible around the side of a building.

Foyle (offscreen): Is that the car you've been talking about? 

Brian (offscreen): It might be. 

Foyle: Thank you. 

He approaches Sam.

Foyle: Can you see that number? 

The car starts to drive way.

Sam: BKR 721, sir. 

Foyle: Well done. 

Sam: Oh. it could have been 712, I'm not sure. 

Foyle: That's helpful. Check them both. You all right? What have you done? 

She's still holding her injured wrist.

Sam: It's just a scratch, sir. It's nothing. 

She takes another look at the wound as they get in the car, then starts the engine.

Test base. Marks Wilcox walks along a corridor.

Mark (voiceover): Thank you for seeing me. 

He stands in front of the desk in Halliday's office.

Halliday: My door's always open, Wilcox. How's Higgins? 

Mark: No change, I'm afraid. 

Halliday: So, what can I do for you? 

Mark: Well, Captain Halliday, it's about this business at Foxhall Farm. 

Halliday: Oh, yeah. Yes, I've seen the results of the test. Four of the animals were infected. 

Mark: Four out of the six, yes. 

Halliday: That's unfortunate. 

Mark: It's a little more than that, I think. 

Halliday: So, what have you done with them? 

Mark: We b*rned them. 

Halliday: Good. 

Mark: But the farm may still be infected. 

Halliday: Well, he had only the six cattle. 

Mark: He had chickens, dogs, God knows what else, but that's not the point. There are people there, too. I think we need to warn them. 

Halliday: No, you know that's out of the question, unless you want to start a flap across the entire south coast. 

Mark: You don't think that will happen anyway? 

Halliday: The situation's under control, Wilcox. That's all that matters for the moment. 

Mark: I'm sorry, sir, I don't agree. This thing only started because of complete incompetence right at the beginning. 

Halliday: I think you should be careful what you say. I am your commanding officer. Look, there's no need for us to fall out over this. We're on the same side. We both have the same aims. We're keeping an eye on Foxhall. And although I grant you we may have made a mistake, it looks as if we got away with it. Terrible about Higgins. Is he going to be all right? 

Mark: I'll let you know. Sir. 

He leaves.

Jenkins house. Foyle walks up to knock on the front door. Elsie Jenkins answers it, a cardigan wrapped around her shoulders.

Foyle: Mrs Jenkins? 

Elsie: Yes. 

Foyle: I'm a police officer. Could I have a word? 

She nods and lets him in.

Sitting room. Elsie takes a seat, speaking rather haltingly.

Elsie: You'll have to excuse me, Mr Foyle. I'm not feeling at all myself. I think I've picked up a summer cold. 

She coughs.

Foyle: Are you on your own here? 

Elsie: I've sent Danny away. He's my son. He's staying with my mum. 

She stifles another cough.

Foyle: Have you seen the doctor? 

Elsie: No, it'll pass. How can I help you? This is about Tom, isn't it? 

Foyle: Er, it is, yes. 

Elsie: Have you found the man who did it? 

Foyle: Well, a man's been arrested. 

Elsie: Martin Ashford didn't k*ll my husband. I told the other policeman that. I know him. His sister's a friend of mine, a good friend. I've known her all my life. Look, I was there when they had that stupid row in the King's Arms. It was all Tom's fault. He'd had a bit too much to drink, and he could be like that sometimes. 

Foyle: Didn't, er, Ashford thr*at him? 

Elsie: Not really. If anything it was the other way round. But neither of them meant anything by it, that's what I'm trying to tell you. It was all just talk. 

Foyle: Tell me about, er, your husband. 

Elsie: He was very good to me. Kind. Generous. 

Foyle: Did you go to the Palace with him? 

Elsie: Of course I did. They say that twelve men were saved, thanks to him. I'm- I was very proud. 

She coughs again.

Elsie: I'm sorry, Mr Foyle, I think I need to lie down. 

Foyle: Yes, I understand. You should see a doctor. 

Police station reception area, Hastings. Brooke is speaking on the phone as Foyle walks in.

Brooke: Thank you. Bye. 

He puts the phone down.

Brooke: Mr Foyle, you have Chief Superintendent Fielding waiting for you, sir. I put him in your office. 

Foyle: Thank you. 

Brooke: Not the most friendly of chaps, I wouldn't have said. 

Foyle: Well, neither am I. 

Brooke: Just tipping you the wink, sir, if you catch my drift. 

Foyle: I understand. 

Foyle walks on. As he passes Milner's office, Milner calls out to him.

Milner: Sir. The car you saw outside Foxhall Farm belongs to a man called Henry Styles. 

Foyle: Anything on him? 

Milner: Nothing on record, but there might be a government connection. There aren't many private cars around now they've abolished the basic petrol ration. 

Foyle: You get an address? 

Milner: He's here in Hastings. 

Foyle: Good.

He walks on and enters his office, where Fielding stands waiting.

Foyle: Evening. 

Fielding: Haven't been here for a very long time. 

Foyle: No, you, um, used to drop in a lot more often. Drink? 

Fielding: What have you got? 

Foyle: Well, half an inch of Scotch. 

Fielding: I'll take it. 

Foyle: Thought you might. 

Fielding: I wanted to know how the investigation's going. Do you still think I've got the wrong man? 

Foyle: Did I say that? No, I told you exactly how I got involved and, erm, quite frankly, I'm beginning to regret it. 

Fielding: Why? 

Foyle: Well, it's clearly irritated you. 

Fielding: You still haven't answered the question. 

Foyle: Do I still think you've got the wrong man? Well... 

He gives Fielding his drink.

Foyle: Let's sit down. There are certainly, erm, one or two things about it that struck me as odd. 

Fielding: Yes? 

Foyle: No one seems to give a damn about the m*rder w*r hero. They're all far too concerned about it, er, not being Martin Ashford who did it. 

Fielding: That's true. 

Foyle: The father-in-law, the wife.

Fielding: They said the same when I spoke to them. 

Foyle: I was with the wife earlier, Jenkins's wife. Erm, not a photograph of her husband to be seen. 

Fielding: Well, it's too painful. She can't bear to see him. 

Foyle: Perhaps. 

Fielding: Are you going to stick with it? 

Foyle: Would you rather I stopped? 

Fielding: I'm retiring, you know. 

Foyle: I didn't know. 

Fielding: End of the year. I'm fed up with it, if you want the truth. Fed up with the whole thing. 

He coughs and takes a drink.

Fielding: I've been in this job too long. Twenty-odd years, same as you. I don't see the point any more. So, it's time to go. I thought you might like this. 

He takes the m*rder w*apon out of an envelope.

Fielding: It's the m*rder w*apon. It's called a trocar. Vets use them on cattle. 

Foyle takes it.

Foyle: Do we know any vets? 

Fielding: I had a visit earlier today from a young man called Leonard Cartwright. He served with Jenkins on the Navarino and he's saying exactly the same thing. Jenkins was a good man, but Ashford didn't k*ll him, I've got it wrong. 

Foyle: And...? 

Fielding: His father's a vet. 

Foyle takes a look at the evidence tag on the trocar.

Police reception area. Farnetti sits waiting on one of the benches. He gets up and goes over to look through the doors. He turns away, then turns back as Foyle comes out.

Farnetti: Mr Foyle. 

Foyle: Good evening. You waiting for Sam? 

Farnetti: Yes, sir. We're supposed to be seeing a movie, but we're gonna be late. 

Foyle: What you gonna see? 

Farnetti: Er, Saboteur. I would have preferred a comedy but, er, Sam likes a good mystery. 

Foyle: Mmm, yeah, I've noticed. 

Sam comes in through the side door, looking tired.

Sam: Joe. 

Farnetti: Hey! Er, we're going to be late. 

Foyle: You all right? 

Sam: Um, no, I'm not. Erm, Joe, I'm sorry, I'm going to have to stand you up, but I feel rotten. I think I've got flu. 

Farnetti: Let me- let me walk you home. 

Sam: It's all right, I'll... drive Mr Foyle home, then I'll drive myself. 

Foyle: You all right to drive? 

Sam: Absolutely. 

Foyle: Well, then drive yourself home and go to bed. I'll walk. 

Sam: Are you sure, sir? 

Foyle: Of course. 

Sam: Joe-

Farnetti: It's okay, don't worry about it. Erm, I'll see you tomorrow. 

Sam leaves.

Foyle: Which way are you going? 

A street in Hastings. Foyle and Farnetti walk along together.

Farnetti: We're making good progress now, with the weather clearing up. It helps that the locals have stopped sh**ting at us. 

Foyle: So, you getting used to the English? 

Farnetti: Oh, I don't know if I'll ever do that, sir. You know, one of these days I'll come back here and open a business selling, er, heating and plumbing appliances. I think I'll make a fortune. 

Foyle: People being kind to you? 

Farnetti: Yes, very kind they are, sir. I should tell you, sir, my intentions towards Miss Stewart are completely honourable. 

Foyle: Well, you don't need to tell me that. Her father might be interested, though. 

Farnetti: The way she talks about you sometimes, you could almost be her father. 

Foyle: Well... 

Farnetti: She very much admires you, sir. 

Foyle: Yeah... So, you've been seeing a lot of each other, yeah? 

Farnetti: I've asked her to marry me. 

Foyle: Right. The crossroads! 

Farnetti: She hasn't given me an answer, but... 

Foyle stops outside his house.

Foyle: Well, the very best to both of you, whatever she decides. 

Farnetti: Thank you, sir. 

Foyle: This is me. 

Farnetti: I'd better get back to base. 

Foyle: Right.

Farnetti: Goodbye, sir. 

Foyle: Goodbye. 

Farnetti heads off across the road and Foyle climbs the steps to unlock the front door. A man passing by greets him.

Man: Oh, good evening, Christopher.

Foyle: Good evening.

Farnetti: Did you get the book? 

Foyle: I did, thank you. 

Hospital. Doctor Brindley is walking through the corridors when Edith Ashford approaches, in her nursing uniform.

Edith: Doctor. How is Mrs Jenkins? 

Brindley: You know her? 

Edith: She's a friend of mine. 

Brindley: She is not at all well, I'm afraid. 

Edith: She didn't look well when I saw her this morning. She said she had a cold. What's wrong? 

Brindley: At this stage I can't be sure. Emphysema, perhaps. I'll examine her again in the morning. 

Edith: Has her father been to see her? 

Brindley: He spent an hour with her this afternoon. He's worried sick, poor man. I can't blame him. I wish I knew what was wrong with her but I've never seen anything like it before. 

Edith: Can I see her? 

Brindley: Two minutes. No more.

Edith walks into the ward and speaks to another nurse.

Edith: (I've come to see Mrs Jenkins.) 

She approaches Elsie's bed.

Edith: Elsie. Can you hear me? 

Elsie: Edie... 

Edith: They only told me just now you were here. 

Elsie: Have you seen him? 

Edith: Who? 

Elsie: Martin. 

Edith: Oh, don't worry about him, Elsie, not now. Where's Danny? 

Elsie: With my mum. I'm so ill. I, I don't know... I can't breathe. 

Edith: You're going to be fine. I've spoken to the doctor. He's gonna have another look at you tomorrow. 

Elsie: I'm frightened. 

Edith: Don't be. I'll stay with you. 

Elsie: What is it, Edie? What's wrong with me? 

Edith: It's flu. It's nothing. It's nothing serious. 

But as she clasps Elsie's hand, she notices dark blisters have formed all up Elsie's arm.

A country lane. Brooke is driving Foyle along.

Brooke: Miss Stewart didn't sound at all good this morning, sir. Very under the weather. I told her not to worry about anything. Suits me to get out from behind a desk once in a while. 

Foyle: Settling in? 

Brooke: Not really. It's, er, it's a bit too quiet down here, if you want the truth. But there you go. 

Foyle: Next left. 

Cartwright house.

Ted (voiceover): Er, yes, of course I heard about the death of Tom Jenkins. It's a dreadful business

He and Foyle are in the dining room.

Ted: But I'm not sure how I can help you. 

Foyle takes the trocar out and unwraps it, setting it down on the table.

Foyle: You recognise this? 

Ted: Why, yes, of course, it's, er, it's a trocar. Hang on. 

He picks it up.

Ted: It's mine. Or it damn well looks like it. I lost it weeks ago. Where did you find it? 

Foyle: Well, I'm afraid it was used to, er, k*ll Tom Jenkins. 

Ted: No?

Foyle: Where did you last see it? 

Ted: I don't know. Erm, I suppose it would have been Foxhall Farm, Brian Jones's place. One of his cows had bloat. A few days later I noticed it wasn't in my bag. 

The door opens and Leonard walks in.

Ted: Len. This is a police officer. He's asking questions about Tom. This is my son. 

Foyle: How do you do? 

Leonard: Hello. 

Foyle: You, er, were on the Navarino together, I gather. 

Leonard: Yes. Who told you? 

Foyle: Is that how you got that? 

Leonard reaches up to touch his scar.

Leonard: Er, yes, it, er, it happened when we went down. 

Foyle: How did it happen? 

Leonard: Uh... a piece of shrapnel, I think. I, I, I don't really know. It was all a bit of a mess. 

Ted: Len. You don't have to talk about it. 

Leonard: No, it's, it's all right, Dad. I, I want to. Um, we'd set off from Iceland, heading north. We were on damage duty, assigned to, er, protect merchant ships. 30 ships. Convoy PQ17. We were, um, we were heading for Murmansk, but the... well, the Jerries were at us more or less at once.

There are phantom sounds from the battle as he tells his tale.

Leonard: And erm... we managed to keep them off for a while but... on the third day they, they h*t us. A Yank ship, the Christopher Newport, was, was one of the first to go down. I, er, I saw it. I didn't realise that we'd be next. It was, er, it was late in the day and a, well, a whole bunch of planes just came at us, f*ring God knows how many torpedoes, one of which h*t the Navarino. I, I managed to make my way onto the deck. Tom, Tom had been on the bridge, and, er... and the next thing I knew I was- I was in the water and it was... it was dark and it was cold. Ice. Ice-cold. I've, I've never been so cold. They say that you could last half an hour in the water if... well, if you weren't pulled out after that, you'd, you'd freeze to death. Erm... And Tom, Tom found me. He managed to get me onto a life-raft and, er, well, that was that. 

Foyle: You mention that to the police? 

Leonard: Oh, yes, to Superintendent Fielding. 

Foyle: Mmm. 

Leonard: We, we wanna know who k*lled Tom, we all do. But at the same time, I know it can't have been Martin. I mean, it, it just doesn't make sense. 

Hospital. Mark Wilcox walks in and stops Doctor Brindley as he sees him passing.

Mark: Excuse me, I understand you have a patient here, a young woman from Foxhall Farm?

Brindley: I don't- 

Mark: Elsie Jenkins. 

Brindley: Oh, yes, she works on a farm, I believe. She lives in Hythe. 

Mark: I wonder if I might be able see her. 

Brindley: Are you a relative? 

Mark: A friend. 

Brindley: I'm afraid she's not well enough to see anyone at the moment. 

Mark: Can I at least look in on her for a moment? It is very important. 

Brindley: I'm sorry, I've just explained. Mrs Jenkins is too ill to see anyone. 

He walks away.

Henry Styles's house. Brooke, Foyle and Milner pull up outside in the car.

Brooke: Here we are, sir. 

They all get out.

Foyle: He rents this place, does he? 

Milner: Yes, sir, just the ground floor. 

Foyle knocks and Henry Styles answers.

Foyle: Good morning. Mr Styles? 

Styles: Yes?

Foyle: Wonder if we could have a word? We're from the police. 

Styles immediately slams the door.

Brooke: Check the back, sir? 

Foyle: Yeah. 

Brooke runs around the back after Styles.

Brooke: Hold on, you! 

He manages to grab the back of his jacket, but Styles knocks him away and punches him before running on.

Foyle and Milner arrive round the corner as Brooke is straightening up.

Milner: What happened? 

Brooke points at where Styles is running off.

Brooke: He got away. Wasn't expecting him to-

Milner chases short way, but gives up.

Foyle: Are you hurt? 

Milner: Just my pride, sir. Sorry, I'm a bit off my patch. 

Foyle: Hmm. Yes, it's a bit quiet here, isn't it? Where did he come from? 

Brooke: The back door. 

Inside. Foyle flips through one of several notebooks next to a typewriter.

Foyle: A writer. A journalist, perhaps? 

Milner is looking at the bookshelves across the room.

Milner: I'll check the local papers. Scientist, maybe? "Science and w*r". "Science and World Order". I wonder what he was so afraid of. Well, he won't get far. 

Foyle finds a Quaker meeting calendar being used as a bookmark in one of the notebooks.

Foyle: The same meeting house as... 

Milner: Martin Ashford? They're both Quakers. Styles was watching the farm where Ashford lived. He may have been there when the cows were stolen. 

Foyle examines a set of typewritten pages.

Milner: German. 

Foyle: "Luft Gas Angriff". We should find this man. 

Hospital ward. Elsie wheezes, struggling to breathe. Edith leans over her.

Elsie: d*ad... 

Edith: Elsie. 

Elsie: d*ad! d*ad in the... 

Edith: It's all right. 

Elsie: In the road. 

Edith: What's in the road? 

Elsie: The sheep. 

Edith: Don't talk. 

Elsie: d*ad in... 

Elsie goes into a seizure. Edith lays her flat on her back and runs out of the ward.

Edith: Doctor Brindley! 

Elsie continues to seize.

Milner office. Foyle stops in the doorway to talk to Milner.

Foyle: Any word? 

Milner: From Sam, sir? No. 

Foyle: Right, I'm getting worried now. Get somebody over there, check she's all right, would you? 

Milner nods.

Brooke (offscreen): Sir?

He arrives with a note.

Brooke: Er, I found this out the front. It's addressed to you. 

Foyle: See who, um, delivered it? 

He sniffs the envelope before opening it.

Brooke: No, sir. Was slipped under the door. 

Foyle: Right. Thank you. 

Brooke walks away. Foyle sniffs the letter again, then shows it to Milner.

Foyle: What d'you make of that? 

Milner: "I saw Tom Jenkins die. It was a tall man on the beach, blond hair. He had a Kn*fe."

Foyle: Not exactly a description of Martin Ashford. 

Milner sniffs the letter.

Milner: And there's some sort of chemical. Ether, perhaps? Could be from a hospital. 

Foyle: Edith's a nurse, isn't she? 

Milner nods. Foyle leaves.

Hospital. Edith is in the hallway talking to another nurse, and turns as she sees Milner arrive.

Milner: Edie, is there somewhere we can talk? 

Hospital office.

Edith: I didn't send this. Why would I have sent it? 

Milner: Well, if it's true, it exonerates your brother. 

Edith: Why can't it be true? Maybe it is. 

Milner: I'd like to think so. 

Edith: But? 

Milner: The description. Tall, blond hair. The exact opposite of Martin. It's as if someone was deliberately trying to throw us off-track. 

Edith: You think it was me? 

Milner: The paper's been in contact with some sort of chemical. Ether. 

She sniffs it.

Edith: It's not just hospitals that use ether. 

Milner: Edie, when you first came to me you said that you'd do anything for Martin. 

Edith: It's true, I would. 

Milner: Then why don't you tell me the truth? 

Edith: I have! 

Milner: No, you haven't. I asked you if Martin was involved with anyone and you said he wasn't. 

Edith: Are you calling me a liar? 

Milner: Yes, I am. I could tell, Edie. People lie to me all the time, it's part of my job. 

Edith: You've changed. 

Milner: You came to me for help. You knew how I felt about you and you used me. 

Edith: No! 

Milner: Was Elsie Jenkins having an affair with your brother? The way that Tom and Martin argued at the King's Arms, there was no reason for it. It just sprang up out of nowhere and suddenly there they were, thr*at each other. There had to be something else, some other animosity between them. It's the only way to make sense of what happened. 

Edith: Yes. 

Milner: For how long? 

Edith: A year. While Tom was away. 

Milner: And why didn't you tell me? 

Edith: I thought... I thought you'd think that was why Martin k*lled him. 

Milner: Did you write this? 

Edith: No. I promise you. 

Milner: That's all I need to know. 

He goes to leave.

Edith: Where will you go now? 

Milner: I have to speak to Elsie Jenkins. 

Edith: You can't. I thought you knew. I assumed that was why you were here. 

Milner: Knew what? 

Edith: Elsie was ill. She had some kind of pneumonia. She came in last night. And this morning... she died. 

Milner walks along the corridor with Doctor Brindley.

Milner: What did she die of? 

Brindley: We still don't know. It was a respiratory illness, pulmonary fever, perhaps. But there were also blisters on the skin which I didn't recognise. Woolsorter's disease is a possibility. There'll have to be a full inquest. 

Milner: There've been no other cases? 

Brindley: No, thank God. 

Milner: Can you tell me anything she might have said that would tell you how she contracted it? 

Brindley: No. Right at the end, she was saying something about a sheep. That's what made me think of woolsorter's disease. Her father has a farm, I believe. 

Milner: Can you tell me exactly what she said? 

Brindley: Oh, was nothing exact about it. She mentioned a sheep in the road. She said she tried to lift it, I think. That's about all there was to it. 

Milner: Right. Thank you. 

Police interview room, Hythe. Foyle is there to speak to Martin.

Foyle: I have some very bad news for you. Elsie Jenkins, er, I understand you were close. She became very ill and was admitted to hospital. She died this morning. 

Martin: What? 

Foyle: And I'm sorry. 

Martin: What happened to her? 

Foyle: They don't know. 

Martin: d*ad? 

Foyle: They did what they could. 

Martin: Elsie. 

Foyle: When did your affair begin? Your sister told us. 

Martin: A year ago in the summer. 

Foyle: Starting an affair with a woman whose husband's away fighting a w*r is not exactly the sort of behaviour that endears people to pacifists, is it? 

Martin: I knew the truth about Tom Jenkins. I knew what he was doing to Elsie. He was a brute. He drank. He was a bully. He b*at her. Even when she was expecting his baby. 

Foyle: It is his? 

Martin: Yes. She's not really d*ad? You're lying to me. This is some sort of trick. 

Foyle: Listen, we don't have to talk about this now. I can come back. 

Martin: No. I've been sat in this stinking room long enough. I'll tell you. She didn't want me to fight. She tried to stop me. 

Flashback to the two of them at the King's Head.

Elsie: Don't go to the beach. He's just looking for the excuse. 

Martin: We can't go on like this. We've got to have it out. 

Elsie: Please, Martin. I'm begging you. I know him. I know what he's like. If you fight him, you won't walk away. 

Martin: I can look after myself. 

Elsie: He'll k*ll you.

Martin: He can try. 

Elsie: Oh, God. Why did I have to meet him? How could I let myself-

Martin kisses her.

Martin (voiceover): I went back to Foxhall Farm and got a torch. 

Flashback to Martin leaving the farm.

Martin (voiceover): I didn't want to go there in the dark. 

He arrives at the beach.

Martin (voiceover): It must have been about twenty past eleven when I arrived. I started making my way over to the boat and I heard someone running away. 

There's the sound of running feet and Martin points the torch.

Martin: Jenkins! 

He shines the torch around and sees Jenkins lying bleeding on the beach.

Jenkins: Elsie.

Jenkins falls back, d*ad.

Interview room.

Martin: "Elsie". That was all he said. 

Foyle: So, you thought she'd k*lled him. 

Martin: He spoke her name. 

Foyle: And you took the Kn*fe? 

Martin: Yes. I wanted to protect her. 

Foyle: Is that how you got the blood on your clothes? 

Martin: Yes. 

Foyle: And you hid it?

Martin: At Foxhall Farm. 

Foyle: Leonard Cartwright, um, know him? 

Martin: Yes, of course I know him. He went to the same meeting house. But then he left. He joined up. 

Foyle: Still friends? 

Martin: Yes. We had different beliefs, that's all. 

Foyle: Henry Styles mean anything to you? 

Martin: I remember seeing him. I don't think we ever spoke. Listen, can I see her? 

Foyle: Well... you've been obstructing a police enquiry, but I'll see what I can do. 

Martin: I wasn't gonna let them arrest her. 

Foyle: I'm sorry.

He leaves.

Henry Styles is driving along through the woods, and comes to a halt at a Home Guard roadblock.

Home Guard: So, where are you going, sir? 

Styles: To London. 

Home Guard: On what business? 

Styles: Er, it, it's private. 

Home Guard: I'm afraid that's not good enough, sir. Can I see your identity papers? 

Styles: Er, er, no, you don't understand. I, I can't stay here. 

Home Guard: Sir, could you get out of the car? 

Styles throws the car into reverse and starts to drive away. The two Home Guards aim their r*fles at him and he stops.

Hospital. Sam staggers in through the entrance in civilian clothes, panting for breath. Edith approaches her.

Edith: Are you all right? 

Sam: I think I need to see a... doctor. 

She grabs onto Edith for support, and Edith helps guide her down to the ground.

Sam: (Sorry.)

As another nurse rushes over to join them, Edith sees that Sam has the same kind of blisters on her hand that Elsie had.

Brooke drives Foyle to the hospital. They screech to a halt outside and Foyle gets out almost before the car stops, hurrying up the steps.

Brindley (voiceover): She's very seriously ill, I'm afraid. 

He and Foyle stand in the hospital corridor.

Brindley: I should warn you that we had another young woman in here just 24 hours ago, seemingly with the same condition, and I'm afraid she didn't make it. 

Hospital ward. Sam is lying in bed. She turns her head as Foyle arrives.

Sam: Oh, hello, sir. 

She starts to try and sit up.

Foyle: Don't. Don't. Don't move. How are you? 

Sam: I think I'm going to need a couple of days off work, sir. 

Foyle: What, as many as that? 

Sam: I think I've got flu. I don't know about these, though. 

She looks at the blisters on right her arm. Foyle sees the cut on her wrist.

Foyle: Do you remember doing that? 

Sam: At Foxhall Farm. 

Foyle: How did you do it? 

Sam: I cut my wrist on some barbed wire. Do you think I've got an infection? 

Foyle: Well, just rest and, erm, let these people look after you, hmm? 

Sam: Righto, sir. 

Foyle: Couple of days, no more, all right? 

He turns to leave the ward.

Hospital corridor. Farnetti rushes in and hurries over to Foyle.

Farnetti: I only just got word. Now, where is Sam? 

Foyle: Well, I've just been with her. She's, erm... 

Farnetti: And? 

Foyle: Well, she's very ill. Speak to the doctor. 

Farnetti: What's wrong with her? 

Foyle: Er, they don't seem to know. 

Farnetti: Mr Foyle? Am I gonna lose her? 

Foyle: Speak to the doctor. 

He leaves.

Outside. Milner is just getting out of a car as Foyle comes down the steps.

Milner: Sir, they found Styles. He was trying to leave Hastings. Picked up by the Home Guard. 

Foyle: Where is he? 

Milner: He's at the station. 

The two of them get into Foyle's car and Sergeant Brooke drives them away.

Police interview room, Hastings. Styles is sitting at the table as Foyle walks in.

Foyle: Need your help. 

Styles: I'm not saying anything. 

Foyle: There's a young woman very ill in a hospital in Hastings, and I think you know what's wrong with her. She's very ill as a result of cutting herself on barbed wire at Foxhall Farm. She's got a fever, she has difficulty breathing, and I need your help because another woman at the same hospital with the same symptoms has just died. 

Styles: This is some sort of ploy to get me to talk. 

Foyle: No, it's not. 

Styles: I know who you are. You want me to disappear. I know why you came to my house. 

Foyle: I came to your house because a man had been m*rder, and although this has nothing to do with you, we believe you could well know the person arrested for it. You're a Quaker, aren't you? We think you use the same meeting house as this person. Martin Ashford. Look, whether you did or you didn't, it's irrelevant. The only reason you're here is because we need your help. 

Styles: How did you know where I lived? 

Foyle: I saw your car at Foxhall Farm. We got your address from the registration number. 

Styles: What were you doing there? 

Foyle: I was there for the same reason I was at your house. Martin Ashford. He was having an affair with a woman who worked there. The same woman that has just died from the same condition contracted at the same farm as this woman who now needs your help. 

Styles hesitates for a while.

Styles: Erm... does she, er, have black sores on her face or her arms? 

Foyle: Yes. 

Styles: anthr*x. 

Foyle: anthr*x? 

Styles: It's a living bacterium. A spore-forming microbe found in the soil. It, it can be cultivated and then used. It's an inv*de. Erm, you put it into a hostile environment and it curls itself up into a little ball and protects itself. It, it develops an outer skin. It's very s*ab. Heat and, er, light can't hurt it. It survives for years. Also, it kills. That's why they want it. 

Foyle: Who? 

Styles: They wanted me to work for them but I said no. I wasn't having any of it. What's the world coming to if we allow such things, hmm? Death by disease and invisible K*llers. It's less than human. It makes us worse than the n*zi. 

Foyle: These two women have been infected at the same farm. Could they have a, a laboratory? Some sort of base nearby? 

Styles: I've been watching them. I followed them up to that farm. They, they can't even control the infection. They're incompetent. 

Foyle: Where do I find them? 

A roadblock, manned by members of the regular army. A car pulls up in front and Foyle gets out.

Guard: I'm sorry. There's no admittance beyond this point. 

Foyle: You have a commanding officer here, name of Halliday. I want to speak to him. 

Guard: I'm afraid that's not possible, sir. 

Foyle: Well, there's been an outbreak of anthr*x in Hastings and he's responsible for it. If I'm not in his office within the next two minutes, I'll be back with the army, the police, the Home Guard and the press. D'you feel able to convey this to him at your earliest opportunity? 

Guard: Sir. 

Halliday's office. Foyle is there with him and Mark Wilcox.

Halliday: I don't need to tell you that if you repeat anything you hear, the world will fall in on you from a very great height. 

Foyle: Will it? 

Halliday: No, no. You don't understand. This is not just classified. It's not just another secret of the w*r. Not even the Prime Minister knows what we're doing here. It's true. They haven't told him yet. Hopefully they'll never have to. 

Foyle: Right, well, what you don't understand is that I don't care what falls on me from a very great height. Neither do I care who doesn't know what. I know that you're responsible for the death of one young woman and the potential death of another and unless you tell me exactly what's happened, everybody's going to know at least as much as I do. 

Mark: There was an accident. We were experimenting with a flock of sheep. 

Foyle: What does that mean, exactly? 

Mark: We k*lled them. We were then asked to send the carcasses to another establishment for testing. I was against it from the start. 

Halliday: Hardly relevant. 

Mark: One of them fell off the lorry. We knew at once what had happened when a count was made, but by then the infected animal had been taken to a farm. We kept the farm under observation and when the cattle fell ill, we moved in and removed them. We wanted to stop the infection spreading. 

Foyle: And what infection is this? 

Mark: We're talking about a toxin that goes by the name of anthr*x. If you breathe it in, you're 99% certain to die almost at once. Cutaneous infection, through the skin, is less rapid. 

Foyle: But still fatal? 

Mark: That depends. 

Foyle: On what? 

Mark: We're not sure. The general health and fitness of the victim can make all the difference. 

Foyle: And this stuff is being developed for what? For the w*r? 

Halliday: The French were developing it before us. When the Germans inv*de France, all their expertise fell into n*zi hands. 

Mark: The Germans were experimenting with bacteriological w*apon on the Paris Metro and London Underground systems almost ten years ago. At least, that's what we believe. 

Halliday: Retaliation, Mr Foyle. They do it to us, we must be prepared to do it to them. 

Foyle: Right. You've, er, developed this stuff. What's the cure? 

Mark: Higgins may be able to help you. 

Foyle: Who's he? 

Mark: Simon Higgins. He's an epidemiologist. He knows more about this than almost anyone. 

Foyle: Is he here? 

Halliday: You're not speaking to Higgins, not without my authority. 

Foyle: Oh, I see. Why would that be? 

Halliday: And let you go ploughing in with your damn fool questions and moral outrage? Maybe you should try and understand us a bit more. The Germans b*mb London. They b*mb London for months and months. They smashed buildings, churches, hospitals, totally indiscriminate and what about the victims? If they weren't k*lled immediately, they lay there in the wreckage burnt, limbs missing, in terrible pain and what of course happened to them? The sewage and water systems were smashed up and not surprisingly, a great many of them got blood poisoning. 

Foyle: The point being what? 

Halliday: Why not go straight to the blood poisoning? Easier all round. Less expensive. Less long-term damage. I think if people knew what we were trying to do here, they might be grateful. 

Foyle is silent for a long moment.

Foyle: Where's Higgins? 

Base infirmary. Foyle and Mark stand by Simon in his hospital bed.

Simon: Streptomycin. 

Foyle: What's that? 

Simon: If there are any traces of anthr*x left on her skin, it'll k*ll her. She should be washed, thoroughly washed and she needs a large dose of streptomycin. It's not by any means infallible but it has just occasionally done the trick. 

Foyle: They gonna have this stuff at the hospital? 

Simon: Maybe not. We keep supplies here. Mark? 

Mark: I'll be right back. 

He leaves.

Simon: Mr Foyle? 

Foyle: Yes. 

Simon: I'm very sorry. This is all MY fault. 

Foyle: Is it? 

Simon: Well, I'm team leader here. But I was a little careless. I was testing a new compound, what we call organophosphate. Nerve gas. 

Foyle: What, on yourself? 

Simon: Yes. Ten minutes in the gas chamber. But I must have been in there a couple of minutes too long, 'cause I seem to have blinded myself. Temporarily, I think. Although it has been two weeks now. Anyway, it means I wasn't on hand to oversee the anthr*x trials. Halliday is a complete BF. The carcasses should never have left the area. Are you going to try and expose us, Mr Foyle? We tried to recruit Styles. He was with us at the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine. But it drove him mad. I expect they'll make him disappear in the end. I wouldn't want them to do the same to you. 

Mark returns.

Mark: Here you are. 

He hands Foyle a bottle of streptomycin. 

Mark: It's fairly straightforward. The doctors will know what to do. 

Simon: I hope your friend's all right. It's a nasty world, isn't it? But we are doing this for our country, you know. The same as everyone else. 

Mark: I'll show you out. 

Foyle: Thank you. 

He and Mark leave.

Hospital. Brooke waits by the car outside.

Inside, Foyle walks along with Doctor Brindley.

Brindley: I've already given her a sh*t of streptomycin. Where did you get it, by the way? 

Foyle: And how long before we know whether it's worked? 

Brindley: I'll wait a few hours then give her another one. I'll double the dose if I have to. 

Foyle: And then? 

Brindley: Well, there's nothing more I can do. I've got to be honest with you, Mr Foyle, at this point it could go either way. Either the fever will break and she'll begin to breathe properly, or... 

Hospital ward. Foyle stands watching by Sam's bedside as her laboured breathing goes on.

A road through the woods. Brooke drives Foyle and Milner along.

Milner: It doesn't seem to be the sort of thing we should be doing, given the circumstances, sir. 

Foyle: Well, we might as well. There's little else we can do. 

Milner: I can't believe she might die. She'll pull through, won't she, sir? 

Cartwright house. Leonard turns at the sound of the door.

Ted (offscreen): Please come in. 

Foyle: Thank you. Afternoon. 

He enters, followed by Milner.

Leonard: Afternoon. 

Foyle: Er, you know why I'm here? 

Ted: No. No, I've no idea. 

Foyle and Milner both turn to look at Leonard.

Leonard: Is this about Tom Jenkins? 

Foyle: Amongst other things, yes. We wondered why you wouldn't have bothered to have, erm, signed this. 

He takes out the note that was slipped under the station door.

Foyle: I mean, perfectly reasonable information. 

He hands it to Leonard.

Milner: Tall man on a beach. Blond hair. 

Leonard: I-

Foyle: Just couldn't understand why you wouldn't want to take credit for that. 

Leonard: That's not... 

Foyle: It's yours, isn't it? 

Leonard: How can you be so sure? 

Foyle: Well, you sent it to me.

Ted takes the note from Leonard.

Foyle: Only very few people know that I'm, er, connected with this investigation and it wasn't any of them unless, of course, it was... 

He looks at Ted.

Ted: No, no, it's not. 

Milner: There are also traces of ether on it, which we assumed meant it had come from a hospital. 

Ted sniffs the note.

Milner: But we understand you, as a vet, use ether regularly. 

Foyle: One good reason, of course, for not, er, signing it is because, um, you didn't give this information to the police at Hythe, isn't that right? 

Leonard: Look, all right, I wrote that letter but- 

Foyle: Why did you go to see them in the first place? 

Leonard: Well, Martin Ashford being arrested was all wrong. He wouldn't k*ll anyone. I, I, I just knew that they'd got the wrong man. 

Foyle: How could you be sure of that? Because you're the right one? Why did, er... Jenkins try to k*ll you? 

Leonard: Did he? 

Foyle: Well, he tried to sh**t you, didn't he? When you were both on board the Navarino? That's how you got that, isn't it? 

Leonard: I told you that this was, erm, this was shrapnel. 

Foyle: Well, I think we both know what a shrapnel wound looks like. It's not a shrapnel wound. 

There's a moment of silence.

Leonard: How do you know it was him? 

Foyle: Because he was the only one on board with a g*n. I mean, no one on board merchant vessels, including Royal Navy officers on DEMS duty, is permitted to carry firearms. Only one small firearm is, er, kept on the bridge which is where, as you said, he was on duty. I mean, he sh*t, er, hinges off a door with it, he got a medal for using it and he tried to k*ll you with it, didn't he? 

Leonard: Yes. 

Foyle: Is that why you k*lled him? 

Leonard: Yes. 

Ted: Len. 

Leonard: It's all right, Dad. This has gone on long enough. 

He sits down.

Leonard: Jenkins was a bastard. He was a bully and a coward and he nearly k*lled me when the Navarino went down. All he wanted was to save his own skin. 

Ted: But they gave him a medal. 

Leonard: He used his g*n to sh**t down a door. He wouldn't have done it if he hadn't been trying to save himself. And it was worse than that. You have no idea. After the ship went down, it was... oh, it was hell. 

Flashback to Leonard in the sea amid the flaming debris.

Leonard (voiceover): I suddenly found myself in the water and it was- it was cold. It was ice. I could feel myself freezing. And then I- and then I saw him. 

Jenkins lies atop a piece of floating wood nearby.

Leonard (voiceover): He was out of the water. You, you had to be out of the water if you were gonna survive. 

Leonard swims towards him.

Leonard: Jenkins! Help me! 

Jenkins: I can't. I can't move. It's gonna overturn. 

He shoves Leonard away as he tries to climb aboard.

Jenkins: Go away. 

Leonard: Give me a hand, for God's sakes, man! Help me! 

Jenkins: Move! It's going to overturn. 

He keeps trying to kick Leonard off.

Leonard: Get me out of the water! 

Jenkins: Get away. 

Leonard: Please, help me! 

Jenkins: Get off me! Get off me!

He draws his g*n and takes a sh*t at Leonard. Leonard goes under, and Jenkins continues to cling to the wreckage.

Cartwright house.

Leonard: That's the last thing I remember. I should have died. I don't know why I didn't. Someone pulled me into a lifeboat and that's how I made it home. 

Ted: He did that? 

Leonard: Yes, Dad. 

Ted: Well, why didn't you tell anyone? Why didn't you go to the authorities? 

Leonard: It was his word against mine. No one else saw. 

Ted: Well, you could have told me. 

Leonard: I wanted to, Dad, but I couldn't. You thought the world of him, just like everyone else. The DSM, Buckingham Palace. Oh, everyone pretending when they knew all along he was a swine. 

Ted: So, you k*lled him? 

Leonard: Yes, Dad.

Flashback to Leonard taking the trocar from his father's case.

Leonard (voiceover): I took a Kn*fe, the trocar, out of your bag. Erm, I didn't even care if you found out it was me. I... 

Flashback to Jenkins waiting on the beach.

Leonard (voiceover): I knew where he drank and I followed him when he came out. 

Leonard approaches, trocar in hand.

Jenkins: You. 

Leonard: You bastard! 

He s*ab Jenkins and Jenkins collapses to the ground. Leonard runs away just as Martin in arriving.

Martin: Jenkins!

He spots Jenkins and runs over to shine his torch on him.

Leonard (voiceover): Of course, I couldn't let another man hang for what I'd done. 

Cut back to Cartwright house.

Leonard: Especially not Martin. That's, erm, why I went to see Fielding and that's why I wrote you that letter. 

Ted: Len... 

Leonard: Dad. Please, don't make this any harder. 

He turns to Foyle and Milner.

Leonard: I'm, I'm ready to go with you. 

Milner: There's a car waiting outside. 

Milner heads him out.

Ted: Mr Foyle. They gave the medal to the wrong man. My son was serving his country. He was nearly k*lled in action. And this man, this... this Jenkins. If there's any man on this planet who got what he deserved, it was him. 

Foyle: Perhaps. 

Ted: So what's the point in arresting him? He's had his orders. He's meant to report to his new ship in two days' time. What good is it going to do, locking him up when his country needs him? 

Foyle: None at all. None at all, Mr Cartwright. 

He turns to leave.

Police station. Milner comes out of his office just as Brooke walks through into the back.

Brooke: Any news about Miss Stewart? 

Milner: Still no change. 

Brooke: Are you seeing her this weekend? 

Milner: Tomorrow. 

Brooke: Say hello from me. 

As Milner steps out into the reception area, Edith walks in.

Edith: Paul. 

Milner: Edie. 

Edith: I hoped I'd find you. Can I have a word? 

Milner: Of course. 

The two of them walk through the streets together.

Edith: They've released Martin. 

Milner: Good. I'm glad. 

Edith: What will happen to him, the man who really did it? 

Milner: I can't say. But I don't think he'll be hanged. 

Edith: Tom Jenkins was a horrible man. I know what he did to poor Elsie. 

Milner: Why didn't you tell me? 

Edith: I don't know. Maybe because you're with the police. Maybe I was afraid to. I mean, he was a hero. Anyway, that's why I've come to see you now. To apologise. And not just for that. There's something else I wanted to say. I wanted to tell you at the hospital, but... we got it wrong, didn't we, all those years ago? 

Milner: Don't. 

Edith: Why not? I knew Jane was wrong for you. I didn't understand why you went with her. But I didn't say anything because I was too young, and I was shy... and I watched you walk away from me. But I'm not going to let you leave me again. 

She lays a hand on his jacket, and he covers it with his. They kiss.

Pub. Fielding brings a drink over to Foyle.

Fielding: There you go. Thank you for coming. I owe you an apology. 

Foyle: Do you? 

Fielding: Yeah. I arrested the wrong man. And when you turned up I treated you like you were the one who didn't know what he was doing. 

Foyle: Well.

Fielding: You know, there's one thing I couldn't understand. Why did Jenkins say his wife's name when he died? 

Foyle: Did he? 

Fielding: Yeah. Well, it seems... odd. There was no love lost between them, and yet his dying words were "Elsie".

Foyle: Elsie, or... LC? 

Fielding: LC. Leonard Cartwright, of course! 

Foyle: Well, it's just a thought. 

Fielding: Yes. How long ago was it when I met you? How old were we? 21? 22? Young soldiers off to the w*r. It was a different world then. Course, we... we didn't know what we were going to go through. 

Foyle: Well, we got through it. 

Fielding: You may have. Not me. I never told you. April, 1915. Ypres. I was there with a bunch of Canadians. It was just a day like any other, which is to say, pretty hellish at the best of times. Then I saw it coming towards us. A cloud, green. Almost... luminescent. It was completely silent, moving as if it had a life of its own. We didn't run. Nobody even moved. We'd no idea what it was. And then the pain. There were people screaming. Coughing blood, tearing at their own faces. Blind. Nobody knew what was happening. I mean, how could we? You see, that was the first time. The Bosch released 170 tons of chlorine gas. Do you know what the operation was called? Disinfection. Well, they disinfected us, all right. I was one of the lucky ones. I still feel it inside now. Still burning inside me. 

Foyle: But we won. And we came through it. 

Fielding: Did we? Look around you, Christopher. There's so much evil, so much bad blood. Humanity stinks. I just want to go somewhere quiet and watch the sunset. You'll go on fighting, I know you will, but I've had enough. 

Hospital, night. Farnetti sits on a seat in a darkened corridor. Foyle arrives.

Foyle: Joe. 

Farnetti stands up.

Farnetti: Mr Foyle, sir. 

Foyle: How long have you been here? 

Farnetti: A while. 

Foyle: You seen her? 

Farnetti: Er, no. I've been in a few times, but she's been asleep. Er, sir, I really can't stay any more. I gotta get back to base. 

Foyle: No, that's all right. Go. I'll stay with her. 

Farnetti leaves and Foyle heads into Sam's ward.

Ward. Foyle approaches Sam's hospital bed. She's no longer struggling to breathe, and seems to be asleep. As he turns to go, she lifts her head.

Sam: Hello. 

Foyle: Oh. Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. 

Sam: I wasn't asleep. 

Foyle: Oh. Well, um... Joe's out here. He just left. Do you want me to, um...? 

Sam: No. He's been so kind and, and everything but... I really can't see him just now. 

Foyle: Right. How you feeling? 

Sam: Pretty awful, actually. 

Foyle: Well, the doctors seem to think you're on the mend. 

Sam: Really? 

Foyle: Mmm. 

Sam: Good. Because... I've been thinking, sir. 

Foyle: What, again? You should try and resist, you know. You can see where it gets you. 

Sam: Yes. Perhaps. 

He sits down beside the bed.

Sam: But, um, no, really, I, I have been thinking. About whether... 

Foyle: Crossroads? 

Sam: Yes. That's right. Would you say I'm... sort of... well, quite a useful sort of person to have on the team, sir? 

Foyle: I would. 

Sam: Would you? 

Foyle: Yes. I'd go as far as to say you were, um... you were an invaluable part of the team. 

Sam: You think so? 

Foyle: I do. 

Sam: Good. 'Cause in that case I think it's better that I go straight through the crossroads and don't take any turns at all. 

Foyle: Right. Well, I'm pleased. 

Sam: So, you here to take me back to work, then? 

Foyle: Absolutely. 

Sam: Good. 

Foyle: Can't go anywhere without you. 

Sam: Jolly good.
{"type": "series", "show": "Foyle's War", "episode": "04x02 - Bad Blood"}