Outside Hailsham food depot, night.

CAPTION: HAILSHAM OCTOBER 1940

Three men, Dan Parker, Len Holmes and Matthew Farley, are loading boxes into the back of a van.

Len: Matthew. 

Dan: How many more? 

Matthew: We've got enough. 

Len: There's still more room in the van. 

Matthew: Forget it, Len, we've got plenty. I say we get out of here. 

Len: Are you scared? 

Matthew: Too bloody right, I'm scared.

Dan: He's right, Len. We can come back. 

Len: One more load. 

Home Guard (offscreen): Halt! Who goes there? 

Matthew: Hell. 

Len: Move it! 

They shut the back doors of the van. As they run round to the front, a pair of Home Guards with r*fles challenge them.

Home Guard: Stop! Don't move. We're armed. 

Len: Come on! 

He opens the van door to get into the driver's seat.

Home Guard: Stay where you are! 

He takes a sh*t at them and hits Matthew.

Matthew: Ah! Dan! 

Dan reaches out from the passenger side to pull Matthew in. Len screeches away before he's even fully inside.

Dan: Len! 

The Home Guard sh**t again, shattering the windscreen.

Dan: Matthew! 

Len drives at the two Home Guards and they dive out of the way.

Home Guard: Oi, move. 

Dan: He's been h*t. 

Len: Shut up! 

He drives through a pair of wooden gates that aren't fully open, breaking them off at the hinges. The Home Guards watch them go.

Home Guard 2: I think you h*t him. 

The van screeches away.

London. Air-raid sirens howl and bells ring as the b*mb fall.

CAPTION: LONDON - LATER THAT NIGHT

Public shelter. People scream and duck as they hear b*mb.

Man: Oh! Oh.

Children scream.

Fowler (offscreen): It's madness. 

Colin Fowler sits, hunched over, talking half to himself.

Fowler: It's madness. Nobody cares about us. 400 k*lled last night. 400 in the flames and the f*re. Did you hear any ack-ack? 

He looks at the woman opposite, Deidre Simms, who's clutching her two children.

Simms: Mh.

Fowler: No, there wasn't any. They don't care. 

Another b*mb hits somewhere close and people scream as brick dust rains down.

Fowler: They're not down here, are they? Churchill and the rest of 'em. It's their w*r but we're the ones who have to put up with it night after night after night. 

Simms: Come on, love. It's not that bad. 

There's another expl*si*n and she ducks her head.

Simms: Oh!

Fowler: We're not going to win this w*r. They pushed us out of Norway and France, now they're in Romania. Nobody can stop them. If we don't have a negotiated peace, we'll be crushed. We'll be destroyed. 

Woman: Oh, shut up! What do you know about it, anyway? 

Fowler: I do know. I'm with the police. I know what's happening. 

Simms: You could get into trouble talking like that. 

Man (offscreen): He's talking sedition. 

Simms: He doesn't mean it. 

Fowler: The Jerries have won and we might as well pack up. 

Woman (offscreen): Talk like that's not gonna help anyone. 

Fowler: I'm telling you. They don't want you to know but we've already lost. 

There's another b*mb blast, and people scream.

OPENING CREDITS

Milner's office. Sam is searching in various drawers and filing cabinets as Milner enters.

Milner: Have you found it yet? 

Sam: No. It must be in here somewhere. 

Milner: Sam? Is this what you're looking for? 

He holds up the distributor cap from the car. She rushes over to take it.

Sam: Oh, where was it? 

Milner: In the kitchen in a biscuit tin. 

Sam: Of course. Thanks. 

She hurries out.

A road in Hastings. Foyle is on board a coach. Sam screeches up behind the coach and overtakes it. Foyle spots her as she's passing them. Around the next corner Sam stops and parks the car. The coach pulls up behind it just as she's getting out. Foyle gets out of the coach with a suitcase.

Foyle: Been here long? 

Sam: A few minutes, sir. 

He gives her a sidelong look as he approaches the car.

Sam: It was the car. It was immobilised. 

Foyle: You mean you immobilised it? 

Sam: Well... yes. Following regulations. I left in a hurry last night and I'm afraid I forgot where I'd hidden the distributor cap. Sorry.

Foyle: Least you got here. 

The two of them drive through the streets of Hastings.

Sam: Bad luck about the train, sir. 

Foyle: Well, at least while they're b*mb the railways they're sparing the houses. 

Sam: Mmm. So how was London? 

Foyle: Well, a quarter of a million homeless, er, civil administration almost non-existent, no builders, no materials for repairs. Rest centres are overcrowded, not enough mobile canteens and in the shelters there's anything up to 300 people using as little as two latrines. 

Sam: What about the voluntary services? 

Foyle: Well, they're doing a great job, but if you've got 500 tons of b*mb being dropped per night there's only a certain amount they can do. There's too many d*ad and dying. 

Sam: Do you think it's going to get as bad as that down here, sir? 

Foyle: God forbid. 

Barn. The van from the robbery is parked inside. Dan leans over the injured Matthew where he's lying on a pile of hay.

Dan: It's all right, Matthew. 

Matthew: Where's Len? 

Dan: I don't know. He said he'd be here. 

Matthew: I want a doctor. 

His shirt is soaked with blood and he's shivering.

Dan: And he'll get you a doctor. How is it? 

Matthew: I can't feel anything. 

Dan: That's good. That's good, isn't it? You don't really want to feel any pain. D'you want something to eat? We've got, er, tinned salmon, tinned peaches, chocolate. You wouldn't believe half the stuff we've got in here. There's 50 quid's worth of sugar. Len said we'd get 100 quid for it, 200 even. It's like Ali Baba's cave. 

Matthew: I want a doctor. 

Dan: And he's going to get you a doctor. Hey, look at me. You're gonna be fine. Okay?

Police station. A phone is ringing as Foyle and Sam walk through the lobby. Milner joins them.

Milner: Hello, sir. 

Foyle: Milner. 

Milner: Good to have you back. 

Foyle: Thank you. Busy? 

Milner: Not a lot going on, sir. b*mb fell on a cemetery in Upperton. Nobody k*lled but a few d*ad bodies. 

Foyle: Old ones are always the best, eh? 

Milner: And there was a break-in at a food depot just outside Hailsham yesterday. A Home Guard opened f*re on three men in a van. May have h*t one of them. 

They pass a couple of men being escorted out by a uniformed officer.

Foyle: Who are they? 

Milner: Bird-watchers. Came over from Bristol looking for rare birds. 

Sam: Twitchers? Why were they arresting them? 

Milner: They were selling them as meat. 

They arrive at Foyle's office.

Foyle: Business as usual, then. 

Milner: Yes, sir. There is something else. Er, there's a Kate Farley here, says her son has gone missing. 

Police interview room. Foyle and Milner are talking to Kate Farley.

Kate: It's not like him. Not to stop out all night. I mean, he'd let me know and... and when he didn't come home this morning, I...

Foyle: When did he go out? 

Kate: I couldn't tell you. I'm at the factory all hours. Sometimes I don't get home until after ten. 

Foyle: Well, listen, your son's, er, been missing less than 24 hours. Why are you worried about him so soon? 

Kate: He's been keeping the wrong kind of company. He's got this friend. Two of as are thick as thieves. Now Daniel's a bit of no good. I knew something bad would happen. I told Matthew, but...

Foyle: Daniel...? 

Kate: Parker. The two of them do odd jobs together at Brookfield Court. You heard of it? 

Foyle: Remind me. 

Kate: Everyone in the village knows about Brookfield Court. It's a big place and they've turned it into a sort of guesthouse. Guests is one word for it. 

Foyle: What's another? 

Kate: It's not for me to say but... I wish my boy had never set foot in that place. 

Police station corridors. Foyle and Milner are walking along.

Foyle: You gonna look into this? 

Milner: Yes, sir. I'll start with Brookfield Court. 

Foyle: I should. Let me know. 

Milner: Sir. 

Brookfield Court. Two men, Blake Hardiman and Max Joseph, are playing tennis.

Max: Ha!

Blake: Here.

Max: Argh! 

He runs up to the net and drops to the grass. Blake laughs.

Max: Too old for this. 

Blake: Oh, nonsense. Not at all. No. You were, er, you were unlucky. 

Max: What's the score? 

Blake: 30-40. 

They look up as a group of Spitfires fly overhead.

Blake: Right. Your serve. Yep, come on. 

As they continue playing, Amanda Reece crosses the grass hugging a stack of books. A dog barks and runs towards her. His owner, Jane Hardiman, follows.

Jane: Charlie. Come here. Come to heel. 

The dog ignores her, running up to Reece barking.

Reece: Oh, go away. Go on, go away. Ugh! Have I told you I loathe dogs? 

Jane: Yes, Miss Reece. Many times. 

Reece: One of the few animals in creation for which there appears to be no apparent reason. If I'd known Mrs Powell took dogs, I'd have thought twice before coming. 

Jane: I wish you had, Miss Reece. 

There's the sound of a car approaching. The gardener, Peter, looks over as he wheels his barrow away. Sam and Milner arrive and park nearby.

Sam: I hope you're not going to leave me by the car. Mr Foyle always does. 

Milner gets out and she follows.

Sam: Quite a place. 

Milner: How the other half live! You wouldn't think there's a w*r on. 

Inside. Frank Vaudrey is making a tower of cards as Milner enters through the front door.

Milner: Excuse me, sir. 

Vaudrey: Shh. 

He carefully lets go of the cards.

Vaudrey: Who are you? 

Milner: The name's Milner. I'm a detective sergeant with Hastings Police. 

Vaudrey: Police? Why? What do you want? 

Milner: I'm looking for the owner. 

Vaudrey: Mrs Powell, through there. 

Milner: Thank you. 

Outside, Sam approaches the summerhouse. Reece is at work on a typewriter inside. Sam knocks on the open door.

Sam: Hello. Writing? 

Reece: Yes, that's what it would look like, wouldn't it? Or trying to. 

Sam: Oh. Sorry. Are you a novelist?

Reece: I'm a journalist. I write articles for magazines. 

Sam: I wouldn't have thought there was much to write about here. 

Reece: Well, you'd be wrong. 

She goes back to her writing and Sam leaves.

Kitchen. Milner is speaking with Wendy Powell as she shells peas.

Wendy: I haven't seen Matthew Farley for a couple of days now, Mr Milner. Or Daniel Parker. I have to say, though, they're very close so if you find one, you'll probably find the other. 

Milner: They both work here? 

Wendy: Occasionally. Parker works in the kitchen. Odd jobs, that sort of thing. Matthew helps out in the garden. 

Milner: You have two gardeners? 

Wendy: It's a big garden. Er, Matthew lives with his mother in Hastings. If you want to talk to Parker, I suggest you try the village. He has a room above the shop. 

A bell rings in another room.

Malcolm (offscreen): Edith?

Wendy: Oh, will you excuse me? That's my husband. 

Lounge. Malcolm sits at a side table in his wheelchair.

Malcolm: Who is it? 

Wendy: It's a police officer, Malcolm. He's with me now. 

Milner: Detective Sergeant Milner, sir. Hastings Police.

Malcolm: What do you want? 

Milner: Er, we're looking for a young man, Matthew Farley. He's been reported missing. 

Wendy: Dan Parker's friend. 

Malcolm: Well, Parker is a good-for-nothing, and his friend is a layabout. 

Wendy: We don't have a great deal of choice. Getting help of any sort isn't very easy these days. 

Milner: How many guests do you have staying here, Mrs Powell? 

Wendy: Er, we have six. Mr and Mrs Joseph, Mr and Mrs Hardiman. Er, Amanda Reece, she's a writer, and Mr Vaudrey is our most recent arrival. 

Milner: And are they staying long? 

Wendy: All our guests are... here for the duration. 

Milner: Well, would you let me know if either Matthew or his friend come back? 

Malcolm: They're both louts. That's the generation we fought the w*r for. It was waste of time. Don't know why we bothered. 

Outside. Wendy leads Milner out into the grounds.

Wendy: My husband lost his sight in the w*r. It was a mustard gas att*ck at Ypres. 

Milner: I'm sorry. 

Wendy: It was the w*r to end all wars, that's what we thought and... now here we are again. 

Gardens. Sam approaches Peter where he's digging in a flowerbed.

Sam: Hello. Do you work here? 

Peter: Yes, that's right. 

Sam: Weeding. 

Peter: That's what it looks like. Who are you? 

Sam: Sam Stewart. I'm with the police. 

Peter: What are you doing here? 

Sam: We're looking for someone. He's gone missing. 

Peter: Gone missing from where? 

Sam: Home, I suppose. Name of Matthew Farley, do you know him? 

Peter: No. Never heard of him. 

Sam: Well, that's funny, because he works here too. 

Peter: Well, I keep myself to myself. I prefer it that way. 

Sam: Mmm. Pentstemon. 

Peter: What? 

Sam: That plant you've just dug up. It's a pentstemon. It's a flower not a weed. My father does a lot of gardening. He's a vicar. 

Peter: Bully for him. 

He goes back to his digging.

The two tennis players are walking back from the court. Blake approaches Milner.

Blake: I heard an interesting rumour that you're a police officer. 

Milner: Who told you that, sir? 

Blake: Ah, well, you can't sneeze in this place without somebody noticing. 

Milner: Saw you playing tennis just now. 

Blake: Oh, yes, yes. With, um, Max Joseph. Well, he's a Jew but, um, not a bad sort. Are you, er... Are you here for any reason in particular? 

Milner: Yes. I'm looking for Matthew Farley. 

Blake: Oh. The odd-job boy. Yes, I haven't seen him recently. Erm, but listen, if you've got a moment or two you might want to check out Frank Vaudrey. Mmm. Have you got that? R-E-Y. Came down from London recently. 

Milner: Check him out for what, sir? 

Blake: Well, don't ask me to do your job for you, old boy. I'm only trying to help. 

He walks away.

Milner rejoins Sam at the car.

Sam: Friendly sort, aren't they?

Milner: Just get me out of here, would you, Sam? 

Sam: With pleasure. 

Hardiman bedroom.

Jane: Well, how was tennis? 

Blake: Three sets to none. 

Jane: You really should let him win now and then. 

Blake: Goes against the grain. I've just been speaking to the police. 

Jane: Yes, I heard they were here. 

Blake: I told them to check up on our friend Vaudrey. 

Jane: Did you? 

Blake: Mmm. Interesting to see what they come up with. 

Jane: I'm not sure that was a good idea. 

Blake: What, a fiver out of your purse? And those cufflinks were Cartier. 

Jane: You don't know it was him. 

Blake: He doesn't fit in here. Besides, it only started after he arrived. 

Jane: You're such a snob. 

Blake: What, and you aren't? 

Foyle's office. Milner and Sam have returned to report in.

Foyle: What do you think? 

Milner: It's a funk hole, sir. 

Foyle: I'd agree with you. 

Sam: What's a funk hole? 

Foyle: It's, um, a sort of hiding place for, er, people with more money than conscience who want to buy their way out of the w*r. There are hotels and guesthouses just like Brookfield Court tucked away all over the country. Some were taking reservations, erm, on the day that the Germans inv*de Poland. Brookfield Court is advertising in the local press. 

He hands her a newspaper.

Sam: Brookfield Court. A haven for the sensitive and artistic seeking comfort in a secluded and quiet location. 

Milner: Out of harm's way. 

Sam: Cowards. They can't do that, can they? 

Foyle: Nobody to stop them. D'you find anything? 

Milner: Er, no sign of Farley or Parker, sir. But one of the guests suggested I look into a man called Frank Vaudrey who's also staying there. 

Foyle: Did he say why? 

Milner: No, but I've sent a routine enquiry up to Scotland Yard. 

Sam: Oh, and you should ask about the gardener while you're at it. 

Foyle's phone starts to ring.

Foyle: Why's that? 

Sam: Well, he knew nothing about gardening, I can tell you that. 

Foyle: Well, anyway, listen, er, Matthew Farley might well have turned up by now. Get on to his mother again, would you? 

Milner: Yes, sir. 

He leaves and Foyle answers the phone.

Foyle: Yes. 

He stands up.

Foyle: Where is he? I'll be there right away. 

He hangs up.

Foyle: Sam. 

He moves to leave.

Sam and Foyle are driving along.

Sam: How bad is it, sir? 

Foyle: They didn't say. 

Sam: Well, at least he's still in one piece. 

Foyle: They didn't say that either. 

They arrive at Hastings Royal Infirmary. Foyle opens the door before Sam's finished parking and hurries up the steps.

Hospital ward. Andrew Foyle is sitting in a wheelchair with his right arm in a sling, the right side of his face badly grazed. Foyle arrives.

Foyle: Andrew. 

Andrew: Dad. 

Foyle: You all right? 

Andrew: Not too bad. 

Foyle: Shouldn't you be in bed? 

Andrew: I couldn't stand being cooped up. Have you seen the quack? 

Foyle: No, I saw one of the nurses. How bad is it? 

Andrew: Well, I've hurt my arm and... a few cuts and bruises, but I'll live. 

Foyle sits down.

Foyle: What happened? 

Andrew: It was fog. Couple of hundred feet of it. Couldn't see the ground. 

Foyle: I thought you'd been sh*t down. 

Andrew: No. Couldn't find the aerodrome so I tried to find a field. But they all had poles stuck in or ditches, you know, anti-invasion. In the end I ran out of fuel so I had to come down in the drink. The plane flipped over and... this happened. In a way I was lucky. Thought I'd bought it. 

Foyle: What happens now then? 

Andrew: I get a week's crash leave. So it looks like I can come home. 

Police headquarters, London.

Collier (voiceover): Thank you for agreeing to see me, sir. 

Rose: You're talking about Foyle, for heaven's sake. Christopher Foyle.

Chief Inspector James Collier is walking through the building with Assistant Commissioner Rose.

Collier: Yes, sir. 

Rose: Are you sure there's no mistake? 

Collier: Well, that was my first assumption, sir, of course. That's why I double-checked everything before I came to you. 

Rose: Have you spoken to anyone else? 

Collier: No, sir. 

Rose: Quite right. 

The two of them enter Rose's office.

Rose: Foyle's a first-class detective who's running the entire south coast. If there's any truth in this, it'd be nothing short of catastrophic. 

Collier: Are you saying... Are you saying you want me to bury the investigation, sir? 

Rose: No, no, of course not, we can't do that. But was he in London? 

Collier: He came up for a conference. Directorate of Emergency Works. 

Rose: Oh, yeah, I was there. I didn't meet him. 

Collier: No, he stayed near St Paul's, sir. That's less than a mile from where the incident took place. 

Rose: This was a public shelter. 

Collier: We have witness statements. Er, they all gave accurate descriptions. One of them even confirmed his name. 

Rose: No, this is madness. I don't believe this. I don't believe any of it. 

Collier: Sir, if I may... 

Rose: Go on. 

Collier: I don't think this is as serious as it seems. w*r does different things to different people. It's almost impossible to know how anyone's going to react. Now, DCS Foyle, he's a good man, but he's had absolutely no experience of what the Germans have been throwing at us in the capital. I'd have said it would have been perfectly understandable if he'd been caught up in his first major raid and panicked. 

Rose: Panicked? That's not what we're talking about, Collier, you know that. 

Collier: But, sir-

Rose: We're talking about sedition. Spreading alarm and despondency is a very serious breach of defence regulations. Only last week there was a woman, GPO telephone operator, fined £25 for spreading the rumour that German parachutists had landed in Kent. This is worse. Much, much worse. 

Collier: What do you want me to do, sir? 

Rose: I want him suspended from duties and an investigation launched. 

Collier: With respect, sir, I don't think that's fair. 

Rose: Fair? 

Collier: There may be extenuating circumstances. 

Rose: No, no, we can't make exceptions, Collier. You know that as well as I do. 

Collier: But in this case, sir, I suggest we do. Let me go down to Hastings and sort this out. 

Rose: We must do this by the book. 

Collier: Yes, sir. 

Barn. Dan returns to the building.

Dan: Matt, I've brought you some... 

He stops as he sees Matthew lying still and staring sightlessly. He runs back out of the building.

Foyle house, morning. Andrew is at the table, arm still in a sling. Foyle watches him struggle to butter a slice of toast one-handed.

Foyle: Want me to do that? Been a while since I did. 

Andrew: No, thanks. Actually, I'm not very hungry. Sorry. 

Foyle: Don't be. What you gonna to do today? 

Andrew: Haven't really thought. 

Foyle: Well, erm, sitting around, erm, moping on your own isn't going to do a lot of good, is it? 

Andrew: I'll be all right. I've got the wireless. I can read. 

Foyle: Arm all right? 

Andrew: Not too bad. 

Foyle: Why don't you get somebody over? That, um, Douglas fellow? 

Andrew: He died. 

Foyle: (Right.)

Andrew: Went down in the Channel. 

Foyle: Sorry. 

Andrew: Douglas, Rex... I don't really have many friends left. 

Foyle: Listen-

Andrew: Don't worry about me, Dad. I'm just feeling sorry for myself. If you want the truth, the arm hurts like... 

Foyle: Well, look, I don't have to go in. I could take the day off. We could do something. 

Andrew: You haven't taken a day off in twenty years. 

Foyle: Always a first time. 

Andrew: No. I'll be all right. I'll be fine. 

Sam and Foyle are driving along.

Sam: Everything all right, sir? 

Foyle: Yes, thanks. No, not really. Er, just wondering if, um... you doing anything this evening? 

Sam: You asking me out, sir? 

Foyle: Steady on, Miss Stewart. Certainly not. No. I'm just thinking about, erm, Andrew. Er...

Sam: Is he all right? 

Foyle: No. Well, I don't know. Er, I'm just a bit worried about him. He's not himself at the moment because of this accident, and I thought... maybe, erm, do him a bit of good to get out a bit. 

Sam: You mean... with me? 

Foyle: Well, no, no, no. Well, no, I, er, er- 

Sam: A drive in the countryside, something like that? 

Foyle: Perfect. Yes, er... 

Sam: Although you know we shouldn't use up too much fuel, sir. 

Foyle: No, no. No, of course not. I mean, not too far. I mean, just, erm, a breath of fresh air, change of scenery. 

Sam: Be a pleasure, sir. 

Foyle: Thank you. 

Collier's car arrives outside a fancy hotel and the doorman opens the car door for him. Collier hands some money to his driver.

Collier: Thanks. 

He heads inside.

Hotel lobby. Collier approaches the receptionist.

Collier: Good afternoon. 

Receptionist: Good afternoon, sir. 

Collier: My name's James Collier. I telephoned from London. 

Hotel room. Collier tips the bellhop for bringing his suitcase in for him.

Collier: Thanks very much. 

Bellhop: Thank you, sir. 

He leaves. Collier opens his suitcase. The first thing he takes out is a photo of two women that he sets on his nightstand.

Foyle's office.

Foyle: Er, this break-in in Hailsham. The place is less than a mile from Brookfield Court. 

Milner is sitting across from him.

Milner: Just the other side of the wood. 

Foyle: Coincidence? Three men, one of them sh*t, and a van. 

Milner: Still no sign of Matthew Farley. I spoke to his mother this morning. 

Foyle: Both he and Daniel Parker work at Brookfield Court, right? 

Milner: Mmm. 

Foyle: And you say Daniel Parker's got a room with... 

Milner: Leonard Holmes, who runs the village shop. 

Foyle: Right. And, er, with everybody buying under the counter these days... 

Milner: If you want to distribute stolen food... 

Foyle: Exactly. 

Leonard Holmes's shop. Len comes out from the back in a butcher's apron. Wendy Powell is at the head of a long queue of shoppers, which also includes Kate Farley.

Len: All right, ladies, wait your turn. I'll be with you in a moment. You are in luck, Mrs Powell. Nice bit of liver. Last of the meat. Want me to wrap it up for you to take home? 

Wendy: You can't deliver, Mr Holmes? 

Len: Not at the moment. Trouble with the van. 

Kate steps forward.

Kate: Excuse me. 

Len: Mrs Farley. 

Kate: Is there no more meat? 

Len: Sorry, Mrs, you should've got here earlier. 

Kate: Well, I've been queuing for half an hour. 

Wendy goes to leave.

Wendy: Excuse me. 

Kate: It's not fair. I've lived in this village all my life and so's my son, and then you come and you take everything for people who aren't even from round here. 

Wendy: I haven't not done any wrong. All my guests are registered at this shop. 

Len nods.

Kate: Guests? That's one word for them. 

Len: Ooh, come on now, ladies.

Kate: Well, they're cowards, all of them. They're just hiding from the w*r just 'cause they can afford it. And, you, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. Making money out of 'em. 

Len: Look, I might have a couple of sausages out the back. 

Kate: Oh, why don't you give her the sausages and leave us with the food we want to eat?

Wendy: Please, let me pass. I want to go home. 

Kate: That's it. Go back to your rotten funk hole, then. Our men are fighting this w*r and if they knew it was for people like you they wouldn't bother. 

Dan enters the shop through the back door.

Dan: Len. 

Len: What d'you want? 

Barn. Len checks Matthew's body for a pulse.

Dan: Is he? 

Len stands up.

Len: Course he is, you daft sod. He's d*ad as mutton. 

Dan: God! 

Len: Pull yourself together, Dan, all right? This wasn't our fault. We didn't sh**t him. 

Dan: No. But we were there. 

Len: Nobody knows that. There's nothing to connect either of us with him. 

Dan: Okay, what do we do? 

Len: We've got to get him out of here, that's for sure. We'll bury him in the wood. 

Dan: What? 

Len: What else can we do? You want to call out the local vicar and ask for a Christian burial? 

Dan: What about his mother? She doesn't even know.

Len: We've got no choice. We'll put him in the wood. 

Dan: You never said anyone was gonna get hurt, Len. 

Len: How was I to know? Now, you, pull yourself together! Go and get a spade. 

Dan turns to go.

Police interview room.

Home Guard: There's not much more I can tell you, sir. It's all in my report. There were three of them. I challenged them to stop. They refused, so I opened f*re. 

Milner and Foyle are both there to question him.

Foyle: D'you see any of them? 

Home Guard: No. Not clearly. 

Foyle: But you're fairly certain you, er, h*t one of them? 

Home Guard: Yes, sir, I'm afraid so. I feel bad about that. 

Foyle: No, not at all. Just doing your duty. 

Home Guard: Yes, sir, I know. 

Foyle: Well, what makes you, er, so sure you h*t him? 

Home Guard: He shouted out, sir. 

Milner: What did he say? 

Home Guard: I think he swore, sir. "Damn!" or something. 

Milner: Damn? "Dan", perhaps? Someone's name? 

Home Guard: Well, I couldn't be sure, sir. 

Brookfield Court. Wendy is coming back on her bicycle. Peter, working in the gardens, takes his hat off and approaches her, but she moves on without speaking to him.

Kitchen. Dan Parker is cleaning the oven as Wendy comes in.

Wendy: Parker? What are you doing here? 

Dan: I thought you wanted the stove cleaned, Mrs Powell. 

Wendy: That was three days ago. Where have you been? 

Dan: In and out. 

Wendy: Well, that's not true. The police were looking for you. 

Dan: And what did you tell them? 

Wendy: I told them I hadn't seen you. 

Dan: But I was here on Wednesday evening. 

Wendy: No, you weren't. 

Dan: You see, I think your memory's playing you false again, Mrs Powell, 'cause I was definitely here. You and me, we look out for each other, don't we? 

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

Dan: You know, since I've worked here, I've got to know one or two things, haven't I? But I keep my mouth shut and I get on with my job, just like I was doing on Wednesday evening. Do you know what I mean? 

Foyle house. There's a knock on the front door and Andrew goes to answer it.

Andrew: Sam. 

Sam: Hello. 

Andrew: Dad not with you? 

Sam: No. He's working late. 

Andrew: So, what are you... 

Sam: Well, er, he mentioned you were on your own at home and I was, erm, I'm just on my way to have tea and I was wondering if you wanted to join me. 

Andrew: For tea? 

Sam: Yes. I've, I've got the car. 

Andrew: Um, that's very kind of you, Sam, but I'm not hungry. 

Sam: Oh. Well, you can sit and watch me eat because I'm absolutely starving. 

Andrew: Come on, Andrew. I'm likely to get a decent portion if I'm seen with an airman. Anyway, I hate eating on my own. 

Seafront café. Andrew is sitting with Sam as she eats.

Sam: Don't you want a sandwich? 

Andrew: I'm not hungry. 

Sam: I'm always hungry. Don't know that I'm going to do if the rationing gets any worse. I'm having to put treacle in my tea. It tastes quite disgusting, and it goes sort of black so it looks disgusting too. What's the food like in the RAF? 

Andrew: So-so. 

Sam: It's frightful bad luck coming down the way you did. 

Andrew: I don't know. I got a week's leave. 

Sam: That's true. Funny. We've never really got a chance to sit down together. What happened to that girl you were seeing? 

Andrew: We broke up. 

Sam: Oh. I'm sorry to hear it. So you're all on your own. Are you sure you won't have one? 

Andrew: No. 

Sam: These sandwiches would be an awful lot better if they put something inside them. You must be having an awful time. 

Andrew: What makes you say that? 

Sam: I've seen the dogfights over the Channel. And, of course, I listen to the wireless. I can't imagine what it must be like. You've no idea how proud we all are of you. 

Andrew: Is that why you invited me out to tea? 

Sam: No. I just didn't like the idea of you moping in the house on your own. 

Andrew: Moping? 

Sam: Yes. 

Andrew: That's the word my father used. 

Sam: Is it? 

Andrew: Did he put you up to this? 

Sam: No. Not exactly. 

Andrew: He's worried about me so he sends a girl along to cheer me up. 

Sam: I'm not a girl. I am, but I'm not just a girl. 

Andrew: You're a police driver doing what she's been told to do. 

Sam: No. 

Andrew: I can't believe my father. Treating me like a child. And what makes you think you've got the right to play with me as though I've hurt my arm and need cheering up? 

Sam: That's not fair. 

Andrew: "You've no idea how proud we all are of you." Well, you don't have to be proud of us, Sam. Because it's bloody. And it's horrible. We're only doing it for the same reason as everyone else, because we have to. But the simple fact is I just want to be left on my own. And if Dad thinks he can just use you like some sort of nanny, you can tell him to forget it. 

Sam: That's not how it is. That's a horrid thing to say. 

Andrew stands up.

Andrew: Here. Let me pay for tea. 

He drops some money on the table.

Andrew: Forgive me if I don't join you but, as I already said, I'm not hungry. I'll make my own way home. 

Brookfield Court. Wendy is walking through the hallway and runs into Vaudrey.

Vaudrey: Mrs Powell. I wonder if I might have a word with you. 

Wendy: Yes, Mr Vaudrey. 

Vaudrey: Well, it's, it's, it's about the rations. I don't like to complain but... lunch today.

Wendy: We are doing what we can, Mr Vaudrey. 

Vaudrey: I'm beginning to wonder, frankly, if some guests aren't benefitting at the expense of others. 

Wendy: I can assure you, Mr Vaudrey, that all the food is scrupulously portioned. 

Vaudrey: Well, I have some experience of administration and I have to say I question that. 

Wendy: All I can say, Mr Vaudrey, is if you don't like it here, you can always leave. Now, if you will excuse me. 

She walks on.

Lounge. Blake brings Max Joseph a drink.

Blake: Voila. 

Max: Mmm.

Blake: Ah. Well, chin-chin. 

They clink glasses.

Max: Cheers. 

Blake: Mmm. Ah. Have you, er, have you thought any more about my proposition? 

Max: I don't know. 

Blake: Well, we don't want to leave it too late. I mean, erm, who's to say how much longer the w*r will go on? 

Max: Could be years. 

Blake: Could be weeks. Look, take my word for it, Max. There are weaving mills all over the country going under. It's shortage of men. We buy them cheap, we keep them ticking over. At the end of the w*r we'll make a fortune. 

Max: I need to think a bit more. 

Blake: Fine, you think all you like. But textiles are my business. It's your finance, my expertise. Nothing can stop us. Ah.

Kitchen. Wendy is preparing vegetables when Peter comes in.

Wendy: You shouldn't be here. 

Peter: I had to see you. 

Wendy: No. 

Peter: I had to. I can't just... work out there, pretending I-

Wendy: This is wrong. 

Peter: You want me to leave? 

Wendy: No. Someone saw us together. 

Peter: Who? 

Wendy: Daniel Parker. He saw us and he tried to thr*at me. 

Peter: I can deal with him. 

Wendy: How? 

Peter: I don't know, I'll- 

Wendy: How did I get myself into this? 

Peter: I've made things more difficult for you, haven't I? Look, I should never have come here. 

Wendy: No, I can't bear to lose you. I can't bear being so close to you and having to pretend. 

The two of them hug. The door opens and Malcolm comes in.

Malcolm: Wendy?

Wendy and Peter let go of each other and hold still.

Malcolm: Who were you talking to? 

Wendy: Nobody. 

Malcolm: Thought I heard someone. 

Wendy: No one. I, I, I'm just preparing dinner. 

He backs out and leaves.

Outside, Jane Hardiman is walking her dog.

Jane: Come on, Charlie. Ten minutes before supper. Charlie. Go on. 

She lets him off the lead and he runs on ahead.

Jane: Charlie! 

Vaudrey watches her from the window.

Summerhouse. Amanda Reece is reread her article aloud.

Reece: "The child had terrible burns. The building that had once been his home was still burning behind him. I held his hand. The doctor..." Terrible burns... Terrible injuries. Dreadful injuries.

She makes an alteration to the manuscript.

Jane (offscreen): Charlie! 

Outside. Jane has reached the trees at the edge of the wood. She looks around, and then goes over to one of the trees. She pulls down a bag hidden up in the branches, looks at the contents and smiles. Then she goes back to looking for the dog.

Jane: Charlie! Where are you? 

Up above, Vaudrey is still watching her from the window.

Woods. Charlie runs down a bank, barking.

Jane: Charlie. 

Charlie digs at the earth, growling.

Jane: Charlie! 

She heads down the bank after him. Down below, Charlie's digging uncovers a human hand. Jane catches up and sees the body.

Police station. Milner comes out of his office as Foyle is walking past.

Foyle: You hear a body's been found in the woods near Brookfield Court?

Milner: Farley? 

Foyle: A b*llet in the back as far as they can see. You should, um, see Mrs Farley, prepare her for the worst. 

They step through into the reception area. Collier is waiting by the front desk.

Collier: Mr Foyle. 

Foyle: Yeah. I know you, don't I? 

Collier: We have met. 

Foyle: Yeah. Collier. Inspector, Scotland Yard? 

Collier: Chief Inspector now. 

Foyle: Erm... Sergeant Milner. 

Collier: How do you do? 

Milner: How do you do, sir? 

Foyle: Er, got us at a bad moment, I'm afraid. We're in the middle of something, just about to leave. 

Collier: I'm afraid not, Mr Foyle. I'm suspending you from duty, pending investigation under Section 39A of the Defence and Regulations Act. It's "causing disaffection or influencing public opinion". 

Foyle: What are you talking about? 

Collier: Well, er, can we, erm... Can we not discuss this, erm, somewhere private? 

Foyle: You can say what you've got to say here. 

Collier: You were in London two days ago. 

Foyle: Yes. 

Collier: The offence took place at a public air-raid shelter on Whitechapel Road. 

Foyle: Nowhere near the Whitechapel Road. 

Milner: With respect, sir, this is ridiculous. 

Foyle: Yeah, can't this wait? 

Collier: No, Mr Foyle, I'm afraid it can't. 

Police interview room. Collier sits at the table listening to Foyle.

Foyle: This is rubbish. You know it and I know it. Yes, I was in London. I was there on police business, but I was not in any public air-raid shelter, and the suggestion I'd do anything against Defence regulations is ridiculous. 

Collier: I want to believe you. but there are witness descriptions, statements, the works. 

Foyle: Can I see them? 

Collier: If I'd had my way we'd have done all this quietly. A quick investigation, in and out, clear you and be done with it. But the Assistant Commissioner insisted. 

Foyle: Rose, is it? Took over from Summers? 

Collier: Yes. He's on secondment to the Home Office and the Ministry of Home Security and he wants this done by the book. 

Foyle: Yeah, I bet. 

Collier: Confined to Hastings and there's to be no further communication between you and this station until the investigation's completed. 

Foyle: Right. Well, there's a d*ad man and about £500 worth of stolen food out there. What do you suggest I do about that? 

Collier: Well, I'm sure that your sergeant is perfectly capable. And, and I know it's a little, er, unorthodox but I persuaded Rose to let me stand in for the next few days. So, er, what's his name, Milner, er, can report directly to me. 

Foyle: A few days? 

Collier: As long as it takes. 

Sam and Milner are driving along.

Sam: They can't really arrest Mr Foyle, can they? 

Milner: Well, they're suspending him from duty while they investigate. 

Sam: Spreading sedition in London? Never heard anything so ridiculous.

After a moment she looks over at Milner.

Sam: What exactly is sedition? 

Woods. Milner lifts the sheet covering Matthew's body. Sam is there along with a uniformed officer and the Home Guard from the depot.

Milner: A single sh*t to the back. 

Home Guard: I didn't know it was just a boy. I warned him. I said I was going to f*re but he didn't listen. 

Milner: Has his mother identified him? 

Home Guard: Yes, sir. 

Milner heads over to where Kate Farley is standing nearby, in tears.

Kate: Nineteen years of age. What am I going to tell his father? All over Europe, young men laying down their lives. This w*r. Matthew gets himself sh*t in the back for stealing. Daniel Parker put him up to this. Matthew was a good boy. You talk to Parker. He's the one what ruined my boy. 

Leonard Holmes's shop. Milner's there speaking to Len.

Len: Dan? He's not here. He's at work. Ha. Not in any trouble, is he? 

Milner: Can you tell me anything about a friend of his, Matthew Farley? 

Len: Matthew? Yes, I met him a couple of times. Dan's got a room here and, er, Matthew used to come round now and then. Quiet sort of lad. Never said very much. 

Milner: I'd be interested to know why you're talking about him in the past tense, Mr Holmes. 

Len: Because it's been a couple of weeks since I last saw him. Well, that's the past, isn't it? Why? Are you saying something's happened to him? 

Milner: He's been sh*t. 

Len: That's bad luck. 

Milner: You must do a lot of deliveries. Is that your bike outside? 

Len: Yes. Yes, it is. 

Milner: You don't have a van? 

Len: I do have a van. What I don't have is petrol. 

Milner: Dan Parker's at work, you say? 

Len: Brookfield Court. He left about an hour ago. 

Milner: Thank you. 

He leaves.

Brookfield Court. Dan is chopping logs in the grounds when Milner arrives.

Milner: Daniel Parker? 

Dan: That's me. 

Milner: Sergeant Milner, Hastings Police. I was here a couple of days ago. I wanted to speak to you. 

Dan: Here I am. You can speak to me now. 

Milner: You know Matthew Farley? 

Dan: Uh-huh. Haven't seen him in a while though, how is he? 

Milner: He's d*ad. 

Dan: Is he? 

Milner: You don't seem very upset. 

Dan: A lot of people are dying these days, you get used to it. 

Milner: Why haven't you been called up? 

Dan: Flat feet. How about you? 

Milner: When was the last time you saw Matthew? 

Dan: Er, a couple of weeks ago. 

Milner: That's not what his mother says. 

Dan: Then you should speak to his mother. 

He goes to walk away and Milner grabs him by the front of his shirt.

Milner: I'm talking to you, Parker. We'll find out where you hid the food you stole and we'll find out who you were with, and you'll end up in jail doing hard labour. In fact, it was a Ministry of Food warehouse you broke into, so we might even be able to get you hanged. Think about it. 

He leaves and Dan picks up his axe again.

Street outside Foyle's house. Andrew is walking back with a newspaper. A uniformed police officer walks past the front door, watching him as he lets himself in.

Inside. Andrew sees his father going through some papers. He's dressed in more casual clothes than he wears to work.

Andrew: Dad, what are you doing home? 

Foyle: Yeah, well. Some imbecile's got the wrong end of the stick. I've been suspended from duty. 

Andrew: What are you meant to have done? 

Foyle: Seditious behaviour in an air-raid shelter, would you believe? Total rubbish, of course. Anyway, couple of Scotland Yard officers made a complete cockup of things. 

Andrew: Well, are you under house arrest? 

Foyle: Not exactly. 

Andrew: Well, I saw a constable lurking outside. 

Foyle: Oh, he's still there, is he? 

Andrew: Yeah. So, looks like we'll be stuck here together. 

Foyle: Yeah. Sorry about that. 

Andrew: That's all right. Glad to have you here. 

Foyle: Oh, really? Well, I heard about your meeting with Sam. 

Andrew: Yes, well, if you don't mind my saying, Dad, it was a bit presumptuous of you to set that up. 

Foyle: Presumptuous? All I did was ask her to get you out of the house 'cause I thought the change'd do you good. She drives, I don't. Tea was her idea. 

Andrew: I don't need anyone's pity. 

Foyle: Well, that's abundantly clear. Anyway, I thought it was very nice of her and now she's really upset. And God knows I know what you've been through and how you're feeling at the moment, but it's absolutely no excuse for being thoroughly boorish and totally bloody rude, frankly. 

Andrew: What? I didn't mean to upset her. Was she really... 

Foyle: Yes, she really was. 

Andrew: Well, I'm sorry. Maybe I wasn't thinking straight. 

Foyle: Well, wouldn't be the first time. 

Foyle's office. Collier is reading a report.

Collier: It's a very thorough report, Sergeant Milner. 

Milner: Thank you, sir. I think we should arrest Holmes and Parker. 

Collier: Well, I'm not sure that you've got enough evidence for that. 

Milner: The b*llet that k*lled Farley was from a Lee-Enfield, which is what the Home Guard were carrying. And we believe that he shouted out, "Dan!" when he was sh*t. 

Collier: Dan, as in Dan Parker? 

Milner: Yes. 

Collier: Could have been, "Damn!" Could have been an oath. Sorry, Sergeant, it's very intuitive. Don't think it's enough. Right.

He stands up.

Collier: It's late. I'm going back to my hotel. Care for a drink? 

Milner: Yes. 

The two of them walk along the seafront together

Collier: It's so quiet down here. 

He chuckles.

Collier: Very different. 

Milner: To London? 

Collier: Well, the Germans come night after night and there are whole areas... You wouldn't believe the damage. Of course, they've targeted the docks, but they've also h*t the zoo, the Tower of London, Madame Tussauds. We had bits of waxwork all over Baker Street. The BBC a couple of times. And last week it was the Natural History Museum. You never know what's going to be next. But I'll tell you the interesting thing. Doesn't matter what they throw at us, people are still up for work the next morning. Climbing over the rubble if need be. 

Milner: Do you have family in London, sir? 

Collier: No. You were in the army? 

Milner: Yes. Norway. 

Collier: You know, I sometimes think the worst thing about this w*r is that it's never really going to be over. Because even when the fighting stops, people won't be the same. How can we go through all this k*lling and destruction and not come out of it different? How can we pretend we haven't changed? 

Hotel lounge. Collier brings back beers for him and Milner.

Milner: This is very kind of you, sir. 

Collier: No, I appreciate your joining me. I'm well aware this situation can't be easy for you. Cheers. 

Milner: Cheers. 

They clink glasses.

Milner: You don't really believe that Mr Foyle is guilty of the charge, do you, sir? 

Collier: I don't want to believe it, of course not. 

Milner: He wouldn't say anything out of line. 

Collier: Your loyalty does you credit, but you can't know because you weren't there. 

Milner: I know him. 

Collier: w*r does different things to different people. Now, tell me about Brookfield Court. 

Milner: Sir? 

Collier: Well, the body was found more or less in the grounds, it's near the depot where the food was stolen, Dan Parker works there and you made an inquiry about one of the guests. A London county councillor, Frank Vaudrey. 

Milner: Yes, one of the other guests was suspicious about him. 

Collier: Well, that... 

He chuckles.

Collier: It seems to me Brookfield Court should be right at the heart of your investigation. Why don't we pay it a visit tomorrow? Take a look around. 

Milner: Yes, sir. 

Collier: Good. 

Brookfield Court. Blake catches up to Vaudrey on the landing.

Blake: Vaudrey! Have you been in my room? 

Vaudrey: What are you talking about? 

Jane comes out of the room behind Blake.

Blake: Well, I'm talking about a gold cigarette case which I left on my dresser and it's not there now. 

Jane: Blake, darling! 

Blake: You were the last one down to breakfast. 

Vaudrey: I think you should be careful what you're saying. 

Blake: Cufflinks, money and now the cigarette case, mmm? This only started after you arrived. 

Vaudrey: Mr Hardiman, I know what sort of man you are and I know what sort of business you and your friend Mr Joseph are in. And I know about your little game too. 

Jane: What do you mean? 

Vaudrey: I suppose it was you who called the police. 

Blake: What? 

Vaudrey: Maybe I should talk to them first. Maybe I will. 

Through the window, two police cars are visible arriving. Milner and Collier get out.

Lounge. Collier is questioning the Powells.

Collier: When did you decide to turn your home into a guesthouse, Mrs Powell? 

Wendy: About two months ago. It was just after Dunkirk, Mr Collier. I read that other country homes had been put to such use. 

Malcolm: Funk holes. 

Wendy: It was a financial necessity. It was not something we'd have chosen. 

Collier: Was it just you and your husband here? 

Wendy: We have a son. 

Collier: In the Forces? 

Wendy: In North Africa. 

Malcolm: Yes, he wasn't conscripted, he joined up. We're very proud of him. 

Behind Collier, Milner goes over to look at the photos on the nearby table. They're all of Wendy and Malcolm together.

Collier: And I understand you have six guests here at present. 

Wendy: A Mr and Mrs Joseph, Mr and Mrs Hardiman, Miss Reece and Mr Vaudrey. 

Collier: Vaudrey's the most recent? 

Wendy: Yes, he's been here for a couple of weeks. 

Collier: Who buys the food for the house? 

Wendy: I do. 

Collier: And you go into the village, presumably. There's a grocer's shop run by a man called Leonard Holmes. Is that right, Mrs Powell? 

Wendy: Yes. I have all the guests' ration cards. We pool the supplies. 

Collier: Do you ever buy under the counter? 

Wendy: Certainly not! 

Malcolm: That's an outrageous suggestion, Mr Collier. 

Collier: Oh, I don't think so. Unlawful trading's rife in London. I don't see why it should be any different down here. 

Wendy: Well, I've never been offered or bought anything under the counter, as you put it, Chief Inspector. But you are more than welcome to search the entire house if you wish. 

Collier: Thank you, Mrs Powell. That's exactly what I intend to do. 

Later. Uniformed officers examine the food in the pantry.

Hardiman bedroom. They watch as the police search.

Blake: You have no right to do this. Right, I want to speak to your superior officer. 

Kitchen. Collier finds a plate of meat that's been coloured green.

Wendy: It's horsemeat for Mrs Hardiman's dog. It's sprayed green before it's sold to show it's not fit for human consumption. 

The Josephs come out of their room, passing more police along the way.

Milner and Collier descend the staircase together.

Collier: Where's the writer woman, Miss Reece? 

Milner: Oh, she may be in the summerhouse. That's where she works. 

Collier: Ah.

As they head for the front door, they pass Vaudrey making another house of cards.

Collier: You are...? 

Vaudrey: Vaudrey. Frank Vaudrey. Look, why are you searching the house? 

Collier: We're looking for misappropriated food, Mr Vaudrey. I wonder if you'd know anything about that? 

Vaudrey: Certainly not. 

Collier: I believe that you're the most recent arrival here. From London. 

Vaudrey: Yes. 

Collier: London address? 

Vaudrey: 13 Goddard Road, the City. 

Collier: Do you have your ration books? 

Vaudrey: No, I gave them to Mrs Powell. 

Collier: How long do you plan to stay here? 

Vaudrey: I haven't decided. 

Collier: That's very good. Thank you. 

As they're about to leave, one of the police searchers arrives with the bag Jane Hardiman took from the tree.

Policeman: Sir! 

Kitchen. Collier tips a collection of tins out of the bag in front of the Hardimans. Milner and several police officers stand by.

Collier: Can you explain how these came to be concealed in your bedroom? 

Jane: They weren't concealed. They were just in the cupboard. They're Charlie's. 

Milner: Your dog? 

Jane: Yes. 

Collier: I'm sorry. You're feeding ham, tinned ham, to your dog? Where did you get it? 

Blake: Er, we, er, we brought it down with us from London. 

Collier: I think you're lying. I think you bought it from Leonard Holmes. 

Blake: How dare you! 

Collier: I'm doing my job, Mr Hardiman, and you're obstructing me. Maybe I should arrest you. Maybe I will. 

Another police officer arrives.

Collier: Did you find anything else? 

Policeman: No, sir. 

Collier: Well, look again!

Policeman: Sir. 

He leaves again.

Outside. Sam is waiting by the cars. Milner comes out to join her.

Sam: Has he found anything yet? 

Milner: Don't think so. 

Sam: Not how Mr Foyle would have done it. 

Milner: Sam.

Collier arrives to join them.

Milner: Anything upstairs, sir? 

Collier: No. Nothing. 

Sam: Bad luck, sir. Seems the whole thing's been a bit of a disaster. 

Collier: Is that what you think, Miss... 

Sam: Stewart. 

Collier: Stewart, that's it. Yes. That's what you think. Well, you're probably right. Why are you wearing that uniform? 

Sam: This one, sir? 

Collier: You've got it. 

Sam: Well, I'm, er, part of the MTC. 

Collier: Mechanised Transport Corps. Oh, so you're not a police driver. 

Sam: No, not exactly. I, I was transferred to drive Mr Foyle. 

Collier: It's highly irregular, isn't it? 

Sam: Well, it is the w*r, sir. 

Collier: So, where were you before then? 

Sam: I was posted in Hastings. Had a frightful area officer. Name of Bradley. 

Collier: Hmm. 

Sam: Quite honestly, I was pleased to get out. 

Collier: Yeah. Well, I'm afraid I'm going to send you back again. 

Sam: What? 

Collier: It's nothing personal, Miss Stewart, but you see, I don't need a driver. Certainly not one from outside the police force. 

Sam: But I-

Collier: I'm relieving you of your duties as of now. I mean, you can drive us back to the station, of course, and then, er, I'll arrange for your return to the MTC. That's all. 

He goes around to get back in the car, and after a moment, the others follow.

MTC garage. Sam stands to attention before her office, Edith Bradley.

Bradley: Can't say I was expecting to see you again, Stewart! 

Sam: I wasn't expecting to be back, ma'am. 

Bradley: I didn't give you permission to speak. You always were a loose cannon, Stewart. I can't say I was sorry when you were transferred. In fact, you were the most insubordinate woman under my command, and I can't imagine that your brief sojourn with the police will have made much difference. So, they've decided they can get along without you. 

Sam: I'm sure this is a temporary assignment, ma'am. The officer I was in charge of driving, Mr Foyle, has-

Bradley: I'm your commanding officer now. And this time I'll be the one who decides who stays and who leaves. I hope, at least, you haven't forgotten your basic training. 

Sam: I'm sure I haven't forgotten all of it, ma'am. 

Street outside Foyle's house. Collier knocks and Foyle answers the door.

Collier: Mr Foyle. 

Foyle: Mr Collier. 

Collier: Do you mind if I come in? 

Foyle: Well, d'you know, I do, rather?

Collier: Then, perhaps you'd like to come out. 

Foyle: Because...? 

Collier: Well, I thought we should talk. I'm trying to be pleasant, Mr Foyle. 

Foyle picks up his keys.

The two of them walk through the gates of a park.

Collier: The doorman at St Paul's Hotel remembers you leaving at seven o'clock. That's an hour before the air raid. 

Foyle: The doorman's wrong. 

Collier: He clearly identified you. 

Foyle: Well, he's either mistaken or he's making a false statement. 

Collier: You're suggesting, what, somebody's got it in for you? 

Foyle: It crossed my mind. 

Collier: Rose? 

Foyle: Well, I wouldn't describe Rose and myself as close, exactly. I mean, he's a friend of Summers and Summers was sacked because of me. 

Collier: It wasn't Rose who came to me. I went to Rose. I'm afraid I started all this. 

Foyle: Oh, well, thanks very much.

Collier: Well, what was I supposed to do? I had the witness statements. A report of a man of your description talking about the end of the w*r, German victory, all the rest of it. 

Foyle: But you know it wasn't me. 

Collier: I don't know it, but I want to believe it. Just give me time. I'm doing what I can. 

Foyle: Let me look at the case notes. 

Collier: You know I can't do that. I seem to remember you have a son. RAF. 

Foyle: Yes. 

Collier: Susannah and I never had children. She was always sorry about it. I'm glad. Too many children being k*lled in this w*r. He's, erm, he's a b*mb pilot, isn't he? 

Foyle: Spitfire. 

Collier: I sometimes wonder how they can do it, these German pilots. They're so young. And they come here, they fly over London, press a button, k*ll so many people indiscriminately. What kind of a world are we coming to? 

Foyle: Are you trying to tell me something? 

Collier: If it was you in that shelter, if you did speak out against it, I understand. I'm with you. 

Foyle: Well, thank you, but I didn't. 

MTC garage. Sam is working down in a pit beneath a car. It drips oil on her.

Sam: Ugh! Urgh! Urgh.

As she comes out from under the car, Andrew walks up.

Andrew: Sam. 

She sighs heavily.

Sam: Oh, hello. 

Andrew: I went to look for you at the station. Sergeant Milner said I'd find you here. 

Sam: Yes. A sort of sideways promotion. What do you want? 

Andrew: I want to apologise. I behaved very badly last time we met. 

Sam: Oh, that's all right. 

Andrew: No, it isn't. You were very kind to me and... I behaved like an absolute pig. 

Sam: A pig or a prig? 

Andrew: Well, both. How did you end up in this dump? 

Sam: It's a long story. 

Andrew: Listen, I don't suppose I could make it up to you, could I? A flick tonight? They're showing Gone With The Wind. Although you've probably already seen it. 

Sam: Actually, I never did. 

Andrew: Well, what time do you finish here? 

Sam: No idea. Presumably when here finishes with me. 

Andrew: Well, how about the six o'clock showing? 

Sam: All right. 

Andrew: Thanks, Sam. 

He leaves.

Brookfield Court. Peter is at work in the garden.

Malcolm (voiceover): What is it you're not telling me? 

He and Wendy are both in the lounge together.

Wendy: What? 

Malcolm: You think just because I can't see I don't know when you're lying to me. 

Wendy: Malcolm, I don't know what you're talking about. 

Malcolm: The other day when I came into the kitchen you said no one was there, but there was. I could sense it. 

Wendy: Oh, I don't know. I don't remember. Parker, maybe. 

Malcolm: Not Parker! Parker smells like a rat. Someone else. I sit here and I wait for you, and sometimes I think if you ever left me, if you ever went away, that's all I would ever do. Sit and wait. 

She comes over and clasps his arm.

Wendy: I'd never do anything to hurt you. 

Malcolm: Then why don't you tell me? 

The telephone rings and Wendy gets up to answer it.

Wendy: Hailsham 2378.

Vaudrey is working on his house of cards nearby.

Wendy: Good morning. Will you hold on a moment, please? Mr Vaudrey, there's a telephone call for you. 

Vaudrey: For me? 

Wendy: Yes. 

Vaudrey: Who is it? 

Wendy: They didn't say. 

As he sets a card down, his house of cards collapses. He leaves it and goes over to pick up the phone.

Vaudrey: This is Frank Vaudrey speaking. 

Police interview room. Milner reads one of Amanda Reece's articles out loud to her.

Milner: "I was on duty when the b*mb fell, and I felt the whole street rise and fall with the shrapnel dancing off the cobbles. 'Come on, Amanda,' Eliza said, and without another thought the two of us were off, steering the ambulance through the swirling smoke." You claim to be an ambulance driver in London, but you're not even anywhere near. 

Reece: I don't claim to be anything, Sergeant Milner. I think you're missing the point. 

Milner: I'm only reading what you wrote in the summerhouse at Brookfield Court. 

Reece: And you smell the whiff of hypocrisy. Please, spare me your blushes. I'm giving my readers what they want, heroism and self-sacrifice during the worst of the Blitz. Doesn't mean that I actually have to experience it, any more than Victor Hugo had to climb up and ring the bells of Notre Dame or dear Agatha Christie has to go out and commit m*rder. 

Milner: How long have you been staying there? 

Reece: Two rather miserable months and I'm beginning to think I prefer the Blitz. 

Milner: You know that we're investigating the discovery of a body. 

Reece Yes. Oh, I'd love to write about it, but I can't, because officially I'm not here. I'm in London. There is a certain irony in that, I suppose. Hoisted by my own petard. 

Milner: And what could you tell me about Brookfield Court? 

Reece: What could you want to know? 

Milner: Well, we believe the death may be connected to the theft of food. 

Reece: Ah! Misappropriated food. If I were you I'd start with Mrs Powell, a decidedly untrustworthy person. 

Milner: And what makes you say that? 

Reece: Well, what do you call a woman with an invalided husband, a blind husband, who is conducting an affair with a man half her age under his very nose? 

Brookfield Court, kitchen. Dan is washing dishes.

Jane (offscreen): Charlie!

Wendy looks in through the kitchen doorway.

Wendy: Daniel, have you seen Mrs Hardiman's dog? 

Dan: Well, he's not in here, Mrs Powell. 

Wendy: Obviously not. He slipped out this morning and she's in a terrible state. 

Dan: Well, I've been in here. I haven't seen him. 

She leaves.

Outside. Jane stands calling.

Jane: Charlie! 

Wendy arrives to join her.

Jane: You haven't seen him, Mrs Powell? 

Wendy: No I haven't, Mrs Hardiman. Have you tried the summerhouse? 

Jane: No. He wouldn't go down there on his own. 

Wendy: I'll have a look. 

Jane: Come on, Charlie! 

Inside. Blake runs into Max by the open front door. He gestures towards Jane outside.

Blake: The wife. Do you know, she worries more about that hound than she does about me. 

Max laughs and starts to walk away.

Blake: Seriously. Oh, er, listen, I've been meaning to ask you, actually... 

He follows Max. Nearby, Vaudrey's house of cards still stands in its fallen state from before the phone call.

Outside. Wendy makes her way to the summerhouse and opens the door.

Wendy: Mr Vaudrey!

She rushes in to where he lies collapsed on the floor.

Wendy: Mr Vaudrey! What's happened? 

Vaudrey: Woolton. 

He's struggling to speak and there's evidence of some substance around his mouth.

Wendy: What? 

Vaudrey: W-Woolton... should've...stopped them.

He falls back and lies still.

Wendy: Mr Vaudrey. 

Outside. The police have arrived. A pair of stretcher bearers are taking the covered body to an ambulance as Collier and Milner come round the side of the house.

Collier: Would you wait a moment, please? 

Stretcher-Bearer: Sir?

Collier: Just put him down for a moment, will you? 

They set the body down and Collier uncovers it.

Collier: What do you think happened here, Milner? 

Milner: I'd say he was poisoned, sir. 

Collier: Was poisoned or took poison, let's not jump to any conclusions. 

Milner: Cyanide, perhaps. Smell of almonds and there's a discoloration of the lips. And it looks as if someone's h*t him. 

Collier: It's possible. Thank you, gentlemen. 

He covers the body again.

Stretcher-Bearer: Yes, sir. 

Collier: Or he's, he's sitting there, he takes pills or something, and then he pitches forward and hits his head on the ground. 

Milner: It's unusual to find a su1c1de without a note. 

Collier: Well, we haven't looked yet, have we? 

Lounge. The two of them are there with the Powells.

Wendy: I thought he must be ill. He seemed to have fallen. 

Collier: Quite. I'm sure all of this must be very distressing for you, Mrs Powell.

Wendy: Yes.

Collier: But we do need to know if he was able to say anything. 

Wendy: He did speak, yes. 

Collier: And...? 

Wendy: "Woolton... should've stopped them." That's all he said. 

Collier: Woolton? 

Milner: Lord Woolton? 

Collier: Yes. Yes, that's, erm... Well, that would make sense. A theft of food in the area, the house is being searched. Vaudrey must have been involved in some way. 

Milner: But why would he talk about Lord Woolton? 

Collier: He's Food Minister. 

Milner: Yes, I know that, sir, but-

Malcolm: Vaudrey had only been here a couple of weeks. Never spoke to anyone. Just sat in the hall building his damn card houses. I don't think he was involved in anything. 

Wendy: He certainly was very solitary. There was one thing. He took a telephone call. 

Collier: When was that? 

Wendy: This morning. I was very surprised. Nobody had called him before. 

Collier: Who took the call? 

Wendy: I did. It was a man's voice. I can't tell you anything else. He asked for Vaudrey, I gave him the receiver. I don't know what they said. 

Milner: Miss Reece uses the summerhouse to write. How often is she there? 

Wendy: Most days. Sometimes most of the day. 

Milner: And did Vaudrey ever go there? 

Wendy: I don't think so. 

Collier: What are you getting at, Milner? 

Milner: Well, sir, if he committed su1c1de, why did he choose the summerhouse? 

Collier: We suspect that Mr Vaudrey may have taken cyanide. 

Wendy: Cyanide? 

Collier: Does that mean something to you? 

Wendy: I think you better speak to Mr Hardiman. 

Hardiman bedroom. Blake in through a side door to join Collier, Milner and Jane.

Blake: It's gone. 

Collier: The pill was... 

Blake: It was a su1c1de pill. Er, we heard this rumour that, erm... Well, Harold Nicholson at the MOI and his writer wife have them in case of German invasion. So I had one too. 

Collier: And it, it was in a- in a box, was it, or...? 

Blake: Oh, yep, absolutely. "Danger, poison." Skull and crossbones. No, I don't see how anyone could have taken it accidentally. 

Milner: May not have been taken accidentally, sir. It might have been stolen. 

Collier: Who knew about the pill, sir? 

Blake: Erm, nobody. I didn't tell anybody. 

Jane: Well, Mrs Powell. 

Blake: Yes, I, I might have mentioned it to Mrs Powell once. 

Jane: We've had lots of thefts. Blake lost, erm- 

Blake: My cufflinks-

Jane: A cigarette case and money.

Blake: Money.

Milner: While you've been staying here? 

Blake: Yeah, well, it happened pretty much the same time Vaudrey arrived, actually. We had, er, quite a set-to about it, didn't we? I mean, that's why I spoke to you. 

Milner: Mrs Hardiman, do you realise we may now be investigating a m*rder? Is there anything else you'd like to tell us about the tins we found, here in your room? 

Jane: Yes. I'm very sorry, Sergeant Milner, I'm afraid I lied to you. 

Blake: Jane-

Jane: But nobody cares about the animals in this w*r! Thousands of dogs have been put down since it began. There are mass grave. 80,000 d*ad animals buried in secret and thousands more have been left to starve. They've made it illegal now to give milk to dogs and tinned food is, it's even harder to find than real meat. 

Collier: Who did you buy your dog food from, Mrs Hardiman? 

Jane: He left them for me near the summerhouse. That's why, with Mr Vaudrey, I have to tell you. 

Collier: Who? 

Jane: Leonard Holmes. 

Police interview room. Len has been brought in.

Collier: Mrs Hardiman has admitted that you've been providing her with a wide range of illegal food supplies. 

Len: A few tins of ham? I was helping her! 

Collier: At three times the regulated price? 

Len: She came to me. 

Collier: You make me sick. Physically sick. Have you any idea what's happening out there? People are hurt, people are dying. People are losing everything that matters to them. And a rat, like you, all you can think about is profit. 

Len: It was just for her dog. 

Collier: Doesn't make any difference! Where did you get it? And where's the rest of it? 

Milner (voiceover): This is your last chance, Parker! 

He has Dan in his office with him.

Milner: You were involved in the break-in at Hailsham. 

Dan: Says who? 

Milner: Vaudrey knew about you and Holmes, didn't he? And now he's d*ad. 

Dan: That's nothing to do with it. 

Milner: Really? We don't know that. Did you k*ll him? 

Dan: No! 

Milner: Two people are d*ad. Frank Vaudrey and Matthew Farley. And if that isn't enough-

He tips out a bag full of stolen valuables.

Milner: We found these in your room. Now, I think it's about time you talked. 

Cinema. Sam and Andrew come out together.

Sam: I did enjoy it. 

Andrew: You cried the whole way through the second half. 

Sam: I know.

She sniffs.

Sam: My make-up must look dreadful. 

Andrew: You look fine. So, did you bring the car? Oh, I'm sorry. 

Sam: I wonder why Mr Collier would do that to me. Just because he didn't need me. And just because I criticised him. Mrs Bradley's a dragon of the worst sort. Your father better come and rescue me soon, that's all I can say. 

Andrew: I'll walk you home. 

They walk along a back street together.

Andrew: Poor Dad. He hates being stuck at home. 

Sam: What about you? How's the arm? 

Andrew: Oh, feels better already. Be a few days before I can fly again, though. 

Sam: That's a good thing, isn't it? 

Andrew: Yes, I suppose. 

Sam: Aren't you frightened? 

Andrew: Sometimes. Maybe my luck's running out. I've had two close shaves now. Last time I really thought it was all over. 

Sam: Must have been horrible. 

Andrew: I can't help thinking about all the things I'd miss out on. Getting married, having children, Dad's cooking. 

Sam: Your father worries about you. He'd never say as much but I can tell. 

Andrew: It was bad enough for him losing Mum. 

Sam: How old were you when she died? 

Andrew: Eight. He never talks about her. I think they were very happy. He misses her. So do I. It's a bloody awful world, isn't it, Sam? h*tler, the n*zi. Sometimes I wonder if this will ever end. 

Sam: You shouldn't talk like this, it'll spoil the evening. 

Andrew: Yes, you're right. What did Scarlett O'Hara say? "Tomorrow is another day."

Sam: You'll get through it all right. I know you will. 

Andrew: I hope so. Anyway, I've really enjoyed this evening. 

Sam: Me too. Thanks for inviting me. 

Andrew: Thanks for coming. Sam... 

They stop and turn to face each other.

Sam: Yes?

Andrew: Would you mind if I kissed you? 

Sam: No. 

They share a kiss.

Street outside Foyle's house. The constable is still on patrol. Milner arrives and knocks on the door. Foyle answers it.

Foyle: Milner! 

Milner: I hope you don't mind me calling, sir. 

Foyle: Well, of course not. You been seen? 

He nods towards the patrolling constable.

Milner: Yes, I think so.

Foyle: You're in big trouble with Collier, then. Come in. 

Milner comes into the hall and Foyle closes the front door.

Foyle: Well, good to see you. 

Milner: Thank you, sir. How are you? 

Foyle: Well, how do you think? Sit down. 

Milner: No, I won't stay, thank you, sir. I just thought I'd let you know that I managed to get a full confession out of Daniel Parker and we've recovered the Hailsham food supplies. 

Foyle: Good. 

Milner: Leonard Holmes was selling them to, er, a network of customers. Anyone willing to pay over the odds. But the only customers he had at Brookfield Court were Mrs Hardiman and her dog. 

Foyle: Not Vaudrey? 

Milner: No, sir. He wasn't buying food. But he might have known something about it. There is one that thing puzzles me. His last words were, "Woolton should've stopped them."

Foyle: Lord Woolton, Minister of Food. 

Milner: Yes. 

Foyle: Yeah, odd. Local crime, nothing to do with politics as far as we can see. Sure it wasn't su1c1de? 

Milner: Well, he definitely took poison, but there are three inconsistencies. 

Foyle: Did he leave a note? 

Milner: Four inconsistencies. We don't know how he found out about Hardiman's pills. Apart from Mrs Powell, nobody else knew. The medical officer can't be sure that the bruising to the face happened when he fell. But most importantly, if Vaudrey committed su1c1de or even if he was m*rder, why the summerhouse? Everybody knew that the writer, Amanda Reece, worked there almost all the time. 

Foyle: Where was Vaudrey before he came here? 

Milner: He lived at Goddard Road, near St Paul's in London. 

Foyle: Right. 

Milner: One last thing, sir. 

He pulls an envelope out of his inner pocket.

Milner: I thought you might like these. I happened upon Collier's case notes about you. I copied as much as I could. 

Foyle opens the envelope.

Foyle: You know, there, erm, are going to be two of us suspended at this rate, Milner. 

Milner: I'll be happy to join you, sir. 

Foyle: Thank you. 

Milner: I'll let myself out. 

He goes to leave.

Foyle: If the, erm, writer wasn't writing away in the summerhouse, where was she? 

Milner: She was with me, sir, at the station. I was interviewing her. 

Foyle: Right. Rules her out, then. 

Milner leaves.

Brookfield Court, hallway. Reece finishes writing a cheque and hands it to Wendy.

Reece: There you are. My cheque. 

Wendy: Thank you, Miss Reece. I'm sorry you've decided to leave us. 

Reece: I'm afraid I'm not, Mrs Powell. I can't work here with all this disruption. There's a hotel in Shropshire that has a room available. 

Wendy: I'm sure it'll be much quieter there. 

Reece: I hope so. You know... if I may say so, there is an atmosphere in this house. I noticed it the moment I came here. 

Wendy: You may be right, Miss Reece, but it's not the house. It's the people in it. 

Reece leaves.

Foyle house. Andrew goes over to look out of the front window. Foyle comes down the stairs behind him. He's changed out of his casual clothes into a smarter suit and is just doing up his tie.

Foyle: Still there? 

Andrew: Mm-hmm. 

Foyle: How are we going to do this? 

Andrew: Why do you have to go to London, anyway? 

Foyle: I'll tell you later. Um... 

He checks his watch and frowns.

Andrew: Hey, what not use my room. Out the window, down the tree and into the next garden. 

Foyle: Beg your pardon? 

Andrew: Well, how do you think I used to bunk off when I was meant to be doing homework? 

Foyle: Yeah, but you were how old? 

Andrew: Aren't you up to it? 

Foyle: I see. Your room. 

He heads out. Andrew snickers and follows.

Foyle's office. Milner stands before the desk.

Collier: You went to see DCS Foyle. 

Milner: Yes, sir. 

Collier: Even though I expressively forbade him to have any further contact with this station or vice versa. 

Milner: I'm sorry, sir. 

Collier: Are you? I have to say, Milner, I'm disappointed by your lack of faith. I assume you kept him informed of progress at Brookfield Court. 

Milner: Yes, sir. 

Collier: And you must realise that I wouldn't be acting out of my authority if I were to strip you of your rank and recommend your immediate transfer. No, you've, erm, you've really disappointed me. Now, I admire loyalty, but for the moment I'm your commanding officer and I might have expected just a little of that loyalty to rub off on me. D'you think I've treated Mr Foyle unfairly? 

Milner: I don't think he should have been suspended from duty. 

Collier: Wasn't my decision. That was the Assistant Commissioner and if I reported you to him now, you'd be out of here by the end of the week. As it is, I'm the one who's leaving. 

Milner: Are the charges against Mr Foyle being dropped? 

Collier: No. The investigation's going to continue in London. 

Milner: What about the m*rder at Brookfield Court? 

Collier: There was no m*rder. Vaudrey took his own life. I think I can leave it to you to find out why. 

London air-raid shelter. Foyle walks through the empty shelter, looking around. There are phantom sounds of b*mb falling.

Fowler (voiceover): It's madness. It's madness.

Man (voiceover): He's talking sedition.

A busy London street. Women are doing laundry, operating out of the back of a van, and there are a group of people waiting. Foyle makes his way through the crowd and approaches Deidre Simms among the women doing laundry.

Foyle: Excuse me, Mrs Simms? 

Simms: That's me. 

Foyle: Can I have a word? 

Simms: I don't know you, do I? 

Foyle: No, I'm a police officer. 

Simms: Oh. Dolly?

Dolly: Yeah?

Simms:  Can you take over for me? 

Dolly: Right you are. 

Simms: You're not local, are you? 

Foyle: Er, no, I'm not. 

Simms: I can tell. 

Foyle: I understand, um, you were in, erm, erm, a, a, a shelter. 

Simms: Oh, not that again. Look, I've already told your lot everything I know. Thought that would be the end of it. I mean, he didn't mean anything by it, poor old sod. After what he'd been through, it's not surprising he sh*t his mouth off. You should leave him alone. 

Foyle: So you knew him? 

Simms: Course I know him. We all know each other round here. 

Foyle: And his name is, um...?

Simms: Fowler. Colin Fowler. 

Foyle: Fowler. 

Simms: Yeah.

Foyle: Not... Foyle? 

Simms: No. You're not going to bother him any more, are you? 

Foyle: Erm, what did you mean? What had- what had he been through? 

Simms: In the school. Over in West Ham. 

Foyle walks along a residential street.

Fowler (voiceover): It's the authorities, they don't really know what they're doing. 

Fowler's house. There are photos of his wife and sons.

Fowler: They didn't know what to expect. They tell me nearly half the houses in Stepney have been damaged or destroyed, and what are they gonna do with all those people? Public Assistance Committees, they're useless. There aren't enough feeding stations, it's all a mess. 

Foyle (offscreen): What about the school? 

Fowler: We were put in there, me and my wife, my two boys. There was hundreds of us in there. Too many. They said it'd only be for a while, till the coaches arrived. Three nights we were there. There was no blankets, nowhere to wash, nowhere to sit down. You know what they had for toilets? Buckets and coal scuttles and there weren't even enough of them. They kept us penned in there like animals. Coaches never did turn up, but Jerry did. On the third night we were b*mb. And the next day, the... There's bodies everywhere. I've never seen so many bodies. I never found my wife, but I found my two sons. They were lying together, holding hands. Turns out we'd been forgotten. Somebody mislaid the paperwork, I don't know. And now I'm on my own. 

Outside. Foyle is leaving house.

Fowler: Not gonna lock me up, then? 

Foyle: No, I don't think you'll be, um, troubled any more, Mr Fowler. 

Fowler: Doesn't make any difference to me. Not any more. 

He looks up at something above their heads.

Fowler: There's Bevin up again. Bloody useless! 

There's a barrage balloon anchored above the houses.

Fowler: They all are. 

He goes back into the house and shuts the door. Foyle looks up at the balloon.

Rose's office at police headquarters.

Rose: I'd no idea you were coming here, Foyle. And I don't like having you barge into my office unannounced. 

Foyle: Well, if I'd told you I was coming, you wouldn't have seen me. 

Rose: Shouldn't even be talking to you. Now while you're under investigation. 

Foyle: Well, it's not me you should be investigating. Someone's decided, erm, to mistake me for a Colin Fowler, the person you should be looking into, because they've decided for whatever reason that our names are similar and that he's a policeman. 

Rose: Colin Fowler? 

Foyle: Whereas the only thing we've got in common is our initials. He once spent a year in the Police Auxiliary Messenger Service, but he's not a policeman, he's a joiner by trade. And for what it's worth, he's no more guilty than I am. 

Rose: And have you seen the man? 

Foyle: Yes, of course. I'd rather like to know which idiot suspended me? 

Rose: Actually, Foyle, the decision was mine. 

Foyle: Well, what a surprise. And Collier? 

Rose: Well, he was trying to help. Out of respect for you he decided to handle the case personally. Look, what is all this? You're not the only fish in the sea, Foyle. Plenty of other things on my desk. 

Foyle: There's a m*rder inquiry on mine. I'm just trying to find out why I was taken off in the middle of it. 

Rose: m*rder? But Collier said the chap committed su1c1de. 

Foyle: Collier's wrong. 

Rose: So that's why you're here, to complain about Collier, hmm? 

Foyle: No. I'm here for information regarding, er, a West Ham school that was b*mb two months ago. 

Brookfield Court. Milner is in the lounge with the Powells.

Milner: Mrs Powell, when I interviewed Miss Reece, she made certain allegations about you. 

Wendy: Yes. 

Peter is there behind Milner, facing away from the three of them.

Milner: She said you were involved in an improper relationship with your gardener. 

Wendy: She said I was having an affair? 

Milner: Those were the words she used, yes. 

Malcolm: That's a lie. I don't believe it for a minute. 

Milner: I don't believe it either, sir, but I do believe that your wife may have been deceiving you. 

He turns to face Peter.

Milner: Is there anything you'd like to say? 

Peter: No. I- I've nothing to say. 

Malcolm: Peter? Is that you? 

Peter: Yes, Dad. I'm sorry. 

Malcolm: Why? 

Wendy: How did you find out, sergeant? 

Milner: Well, he knows nothing about gardening, for a start. And you said he was serving overseas, and yet there isn't a single photograph of him anywhere. Plenty of you and your husband, but none of him. 

Wendy: No, I hid the photographs in case someone saw him and recognised him. 

Malcolm: Wendy, you... knew about this? 

Wendy: I couldn't tell you, my dear. I knew you'd want to send him back. 

Peter: No, it wasn't Mum's fault. I'm sorry. I deserted. I left my unit just before we were due to embark for overseas. The first she knew about it was when I arrived here. 

Malcolm: You deserted? 

Peter: I'd had enough. I couldn't take it any more. You don't understand. 

Malcolm: Of course I understand. You didn't want to end up like me. 

Wendy: What are you going to do? 

Milner: Going absent without leave and deserting are treated in two different ways. If your son returns to his unit and gives himself up voluntarily, he'll be treated more leniently. 

Malcolm: He'll be there. I promise you. Peter. 

He holds out a hand, and Peter steps forward to embrace him.

Peter: Sorry. 

Milner heads back along the hallway. Jane Hardiman is carrying her dog up the staircase as he passes.

Jane: Bedtime, Charlie.

Milner leaves the house and walks through the grounds. Blake and Max are playing tennis in the background.

Blake: Yep. There you go. That's the one. That's the one. Ah!

Seafront. Andrew and Sam walk along by the beach.

Andrew: You're not going to get into any trouble, are you, bunking off and meeting me? 

Sam: I couldn't be in any more trouble than I already am. Mrs Bradley's got me fixing her car. An old beast of a thing. 

Andrew: Mrs Bradley or the car? 

Sam: I don't know for how much longer I can stick it. Maybe I should pack it all in and move back home to Dad. 

Andrew: Oh, don't do that. I'm sure my father will work things out. You know he was in London? He sneaked out. Climbed a tree. 

He laughs.

Andrew: I don't think I've ever seen anything so bizarre. Dad in his best suit and hat, swinging down into next door's garden. 

Sam: Did he find anything out? 

Andrew: He didn't say. 

Sam: He never does. 

Andrew: God, I love it here. 

He stops to look out over the view.

Andrew: How could I ever leave here, with the English sky so blue? Could I turn from the trees as they bend in the breeze, or forsake the evening dew? 

Sam: That's nice. 

Andrew: I just made it up. 

Sam: A poet. 

Andrew: k*lling time in the dispersal hut. 

Sam: You're going back, aren't you? 

Andrew: It seems they can't manage without me. 

Sam: But you can't fly. 

Andrew: The arm's healing. 

Sam: Maybe I should break the other one. 

Andrew: Just keep your spanner away from me, all right? 

They start walking again.

Sam: I'm going to worry about you now. The whole time! 

Andrew: You said I was gonna come through all right. You were sure of it. 

Sam: That was before. 

Andrew: I didn't think you liked me. 

Sam: I can see it now. I'll be the one sitting at home, listening to the wireless, writing you letters every day. I'll probably go grey. 

Andrew: Sam, I'm not gonna be very far away. 

Sam: I hate this stupid w*r. I wish h*tler would just... drown.

Andrew: There is something I wanted to say. 

Sam: About your father. 

Andrew: Well, you know how he is. Likes to keep everything in separate boxes. 

Sam: Mmm. I'm sure he'd pack me off to Lyminster the moment he found out. You will take care of yourself, won't you? Promise me. 

He kisses her.

Andrew: I promise. 

Police station front desk. Foyle arrives as the duty officer hands some paperwork to Milner.

Duty Officer: There you are.

Foyle: Morning, Milner. 

Milner: Sir, good morning. 

Foyle: Where's Sam? 

Milner: Transferred, sir. Collier sent her back to the MTC. 

Foyle: Right. Um, telephone Andrew, would you? Get him over here. 

Milner: Yes, sir. 

Foyle walks through to his office, where Collier is sitting behind the desk.

Foyle: Morning. 

Collier: Good morning, Mr Foyle. 

Foyle closes the door behind him.

Collier: I imagine you'd like your desk back. 

Foyle: Well, there's, er, no rush. 

Collier: The, er, the Assistant Commissioner telephoned me this morning. I just want to say I'm delighted that the allegations proved to be groundless and I'm going to be reviewing this whole business as soon as I get back to London. 

Foyle: That's very kind of you. Thank you. 

Collier: Now, I was, er, I, I was just finishing my case notes on Frank Vaudrey. 

Foyle: And, er, what's the conclusion? 

Collier: Well, he was implicated in the illegal distribution of food supplies. Um, quite why he k*lled himself is still a matter of conjecture. I mean, I've... made some suggestions which I'm sure you'll follow up, but, er, we may never know. 

Foyle: Sure it was su1c1de? 

Collier: Oh, I think so, yes. 

Foyle: I'm not. 

Collier: Yes. Well, I'm, I'm aware that Sergeant Milner's been keeping you informed but, er, even so, I'd be surprised that you could come to any conclusions without even visiting Brookfield Court. 

Foyle: Well, I came to, um, whatever conclusions were necessary in London. 

Collier: London? 

Foyle: Er, where all this sort of, erm, began with the, erm, request that Milner put in to Scotland Yard for information about Vaudrey because one of the a hotel guests, er, was suspicious about him pilfering.

Flashback to Milner typing up the request.

Foyle: Er, which in fact turned out to be Daniel Parker, though Milner didn't know that at the time. 

Flashback to Collier picking up the request from an in-tray.

Foyle (voiceover): His request, er, went up to Scotland Yard where, I think, it was, er, you who came across it. 

Office.

Collier: That's right. I did. 

Foyle: Vaudrey not being the most common of names, you, not unreasonably, concluded it was the same Frank Vaudrey that you were looking for?

Collier: And why would I be looking for him? 

Foyle: Because he was the, er, London councillor who left 200 homeless people sheltering in a school with, er, inadequate provisions. He failed to get them to safety and as a result, er, more than 100 of them died in an air raid, which, er, destroyed the building. Er, among the d*ad were two voluntary workers, er, from the WVS, Rosemary and Susan Collier, who were your...? 

Collier: Mother and sister. 

Foyle hands him a police report with the list of casualties. Collier slowly sits back down at the desk. Foyle sits down opposite.

Foyle: So, you knew where he was. You knew exactly what you wanted to do to him. Colin Fowler you already knew was another of the victims of the b*mb. He lost his wife and two sons. You, erm, very effectively used the tenuous similarity of our names and a suggestion that he'd been in the police, er, to accuse me of sedition. And in the huge distraction that you created, erm, took my place. You walked into Brookfield Court. You found the su1c1de pill as you searched the Hardimans' bathroom, and you arranged for Milner to interview Amanda Reece at the station to be sure there'd be no one was in the summerhouse. Don't really need to, er, go on, do I? 

Collier: Not really. I came down here to k*ll Vaudrey. It's exactly what I did. 

Vaudrey (voiceover): It wasn't my fault! 

Flashback to Vaudrey and Collier in the summerhouse.

Vaudrey: You don't understand. It was all so muddled. All the paperwork, the regional committee, the wardens, the ARP.

Collier: It was your responsibility. 

Vaudrey: I didn't mean to leave them there. It was the pressure of work. 

Collier: You let them die. And then you just left. You dumped your work and you slithered away and you came down here to hide. 

Vaudrey sits down.

Vaudrey: I'm not well. My nerves are sh*t to pieces. I don't sleep. You don't know how I feel. 

Collier: How you feel? My mother and my sister were in that school. They're d*ad. And you want me to worry about how you feel? 

Vaudrey: Look, I said I'm sorry. I said I'm sorry! I'm sorry! What more do you want me to do? 

Collier: Yes. Yes, er, that's what we're here for, isn't it? 

He looks out of the window of the summerhouse.

Collier: I'll tell you what I want you to do. 

He shakes a capsule marked 'poison'.

Collier: It's a cyanide pill. 

Vaudrey: What? 

Collier draws a g*n and points it at Vaudrey.

Collier: I want you to k*ll yourself. Swallow the pill or I'll sh**t you. 

Vaudrey: No. You wouldn't. 

Collier backhands him across the face and he falls to the ground. Collier crouches over him, holding the g*n close to his head.

Collier: Now, I'm offering you a choice, Mr Vaudrey. You can take the pill and go quietly, or I'll sh**t you in the legs and the arms and the stomach and you'll lie here and writhe in pain you cannot imagine. Believe me, I'm a police officer, I've seen it. I'll sit here and watch you die in agony or you can go to sleep. 

He holds up the capsule, and then cocks the p*stol.

Collier: Which is it to be? 

Collier (voiceover): He took the poison, of course. 

Foyle's office.

Collier: But, er, it didn't k*ll him as quickly as I'd hoped. It was amazing, really, he was alive when they found him. 

Flashback to Wendy finding Vaudrey.

Wendy: Mr Vaudrey! What's happened? 

Vaudrey: W-Woolton... should've...stopped them. 

Foyle's office.

Collier: Woolton. D'you know what he meant? 

Foyle: Fowler referred to a barrage balloon in London as Bevin, the Minister of Labour. Er, it seems Londoners have named barrage balloons after politicians. So, it, er, may be of some comfort to you that he died expressing some sort of remorse. Er, Woolton was the name of the, er, barrage balloon near the school. Er, and, of course, It should've prevented the b*mb by forcing the Germans to fly higher or go another way. 

Collier: It didn't. My mother, my sister, all the others. 

Foyle: Yeah, I'm sorry. Terrible tragedy. But no justification for the course of action you've taken. 

Collier: Oh, I have no regrets at all, Mr Foyle. I lost my entire family. So stupidly. So unnecessarily. And all because one man forgot to sign a piece of paper. That's what I've said from the start. w*r does different things to different people. Look what it's done to me. 

MTC garage. Bradley comes up to where Sam is working on her car.

Bradley: Ready yet, Stewart? 

Sam: Be a few minutes yet, ma'am. 

Bradley: I need it now. 

Foyle (offscreen): Sam! 

Sam: Good morning, sir. 

Foyle: What on Earth are you doing here? Gross dereliction of duty. 

Sam: It wasn't my idea, sir. 

Foyle: Yeah, I know. You don't want to be here. 

Sam: Certainly not. 

Foyle: Got a car outside needs a driver. You're being transferred. Come on.

He leaves. Sam goes back to Bradley's car, loosens something, then closes the bonnet.

Outside. Foyle and Milner get in the car. Andrew holds the driver's door open for Sam. Then he gets in the back.

Garage.

Bradley: Stewart? Where the devil is she going? 

She gets into her car and starts it. A cloud of steam immediately hisses out from the bonnet.

Outside, Sam drives away. Behind her, Bradley gets out of her car as two other MTC members come running. Bradley can only watch Sam leave.
{"type": "series", "show": "Foyle's War", "episode": "02x04 - The Funk Hole"}