An air-raid in progress. b*mb fall and bells ring.

CAPTION: APRIL 1941

German aircraft. One of the crew, Sabartovski, is reading a radar screen.

Sabartovski: Feindliche Flugkraefte, 260 Grad. 

Schimmel looks back at him from the co-pilot's seat.

Schimmel: Welche Hoehe? 

Sabartovski: Schwer zu sagen. 

The aircraft is h*t by flak. One of the crew, Gottlieb, is h*t, falling back with a cry of pain.

Schimmel: Scheisse! Es ist getroffen! 

Sabartovski: Gottlieb!

The pilot, Kraus, looks back.

Kraus: Sie gehen unter. Ich kann es nicht lenken mehr. 

Sabartovski: Gottlieb ist tot. 

Kraus gets up from his seat.

Kraus: Wir muessen springen. 

Schimmel: Ich kann die Maschine nicht beherrschen. 

Sabartovski: Wir sind verloren. 

He grabs his parachute. Kraus speaks into the radio.

Kraus: Wir gehen unter. Unsere Position ist 46 Grad Nord, vier Grad Sued. 

Schimmel: Aus! 

The three surviving crew jump out, but only two parachutes are seen to descend.

OPENING CREDITS

Countryside. A land girl, Rose Henshall, steers a horse-drawn plough.

Rose: Walk on. Whoa! Whoa, boys. That's it. Good boys. 

A group of cows emerge from their barn, being herded by another land girl, Joan Dillon.

Joan: Come on, girls.

The farmer, Hugh Jackson, stands watching. An older woman, Barbara Hicks, emerges from the building behind, wearing a land girl uniform and a red coat.

Joan: Come on. Come on.

Barbara collects her bicycle and nods to the farmer before riding away. Joan gathers up the last of the cows.

Joan: Good girls. That's it. 

Behind her, Jackson heads back indoors.

A country road. Sam is driving along with Foyle and Milner in the car.

Sam: Hard to believe it's spring, sir, what with the air-raids. 

Milner: Plane crashes. 

Foyle: Road blocks. How many have we been through? 

Milner: Six, sir. 

Sam: b*mb last night, and lambs are being born this morning! 

Milner: Spring. And the smell of cordite in the air. 

Sam: Doesn't make any sense, does it, sir? 

Foyle: I agree. 

They come to a halt amid open fields, where a Home Guard Captain and one of his stand over a body. The captain walks over to meet them by the road.

Captain: Much appreciated, Chief Superintendent. We're stretched pretty thin. Three of their planes down, well, that we've counted, and one of ours.

As they start towards the body, he stops Sam from following.

Captain: Er, no, I, I shouldn't look, miss. The chute didn't open. He's a bit of a mess. 

She reluctantly returns to the car as the others go to look at the body. Foyle crouches down to inspect the parachute.

Milner: Has that been cut? 

Foyle: Looks like it. 

Captain: Er, two more of them landed safely across the valley there. We found the chutes, but the Jerries had hopped it. The dogs picked up their scent.

He pulls out a map to show them.

Captain: Now, it seems they were heading that way. 

Foyle: Back towards the plane? 

Captain: Yes. Yes, looks like it. 

Foyle: We should take a look. 

Milner nods.

Ford outside the Jackson farm. Hugh Jackson stands watching as a lorry drives through the water. It's hauling something large covered by a tarpaulin. The two land girls spot it and hurry over to look.

Joan: Oh!

Jackson greets one of the deliverymen with a smile.

Jackson: All right? 

Barbara arrives on her bike as the deliverymen are removing the tarpaulin from a new John Deere tractor. The girls both gasp and laugh in delight at the sight of it.

Barbara: God bless America, eh?

Jackson: We paid for it. Yanks are making money hand over fist from this w*r, just like anyone else. 

He spits on the ground.

Barbara: Why do you have to be so rude? 

Jackson: Why d'you have to stay here and not in the hostel like the other women? 

Barbara: Because the Land Army billeted me. Rose and Joan stay here. 

Rose: We have cows to milk at five in the morning. 

Joan: Yeah, d'you wanna help us? 

Barbara turns and wheels her bike away. The two girls giggle and hug each other. As the tractor is unloaded, the neighbouring farmer, Curling, marches up to Jackson.

Curling: How the hell d'you pull that one off? I put in for one of them fourteen months ago. 

Joan: Yeah, but you won't need one if they took your farm. 

Curling points accusingly at Jackson.

Curling: If you and you pals on the committee even consider thr*at me and my farm, if you even set foot on it, I'll blow your bloody heads off! 

Jackson: You step out of my yard, Curling! 

He gives Curling a shove, and the two of them tussle.

Joan: I warned you!

Rose: Careful!

Curling punches Jackson.

Rose: Oi! Get off him! 

Jackson hits him back and shoves him away.

Jackson: Oi, get out of it! Get off my land, boy! 

The scene of the plane crash. The soldier on guard meets Foyle and Milner as they approach.

Soldier: A Dornier, I'd say, sir, from the tail. Er, three crew. One of them's still in there. 

He points out a body under the wreckage.

Soldier: I managed to fish out some bits and pieces. 

Foyle: Three crew? 

Soldier: Yes, sir. 

They look at the damaged equipment salvaged from the plane.

Foyle: I don't understand why the two that landed safely would be heading back to this. I'd make for the coast, wouldn't you? 

Milner: That would make sense. 

Foyle: We should take a look for them. Would you come? 

He nods to the soldier.

Soldier: Yes, sir. 

Woods. The surviving German crewmembers, Sabartovski and Schimmel, run through the trees. Sabartovski trips and falls and Schimmel goes back for him.

Schimmel: Um Gottes Willen halten Sie mit. 

Jackson farm. Jackson rides the new tractor around as the two land girls watch. Joan approaches him as he comes to a halt.

Joan: Tom's home day after tomorrow. 

Jackson: That's of no interest to you. You think you're going to snare my boy? 

Joan: Yeah, why shouldn't I? 

Jackson: You shan't get my son and you shan't get the farm. 

Joan: Yeah, well, I have worked hard to make it-

Rose gives her a nudge.

Rose: If you don't like it, you can always go back to London, Joanie. 

Woods. The two Germans keep running. Milner, Foyle and the soldier make their way through the trees nearby. Milner stops and points as he spots the Germans.

Milner: Sir, through there. 

A ploughed field. The two land girls heft heavy baskets and dig with trowels to plant potatoes. Jackson rides behind on his tractor.

Joan: My back's k*lling me. I'll leave you with lover boy. 

She goes over to sit on a nearby bank as Jackson gets down from the tractor. She can faintly hear Rose and Jackson arguing at the other side of the field.

Rose: Why do you just go off like this? I know, I've tried. 

She tries to stop him from walking away, glancing back over towards Joan.

Rose: Don't make a scene. Wait! Wait a minute.

He shoves her away from him and she falls to the ground.

Joan sits up, watching.

Jackson: For God's sake, Rose! Oh!

She grabs at him to try and stop him as he walks away.

Woods. As the two Germans run between the trees, there are two g*n from behind them.

Soldier: Halt! 

He, Foyle and Milner emerge from a gate behind. The Germans come to a stop and Schimmel grabs for his g*n. The soldier fires a warning sh*t above their heads. Schimmel gives up on going for the g*n. Milner walks up and takes it from the holster, then pats him down.

Milner: That's all. 

He moves on to do the same to Sabartovski.

Milner: He's not armed. 

Later. The group have rejoined Sam at the car. The two Germans sit on the grass in front of the car, with the soldier keeping watch over them.

Schimmel: Stellen Sie sich nicht so an. 

Sabartovski has unbuttoned his flight suit to look at his injured shoulder.

Sabartovski: The parachute has nearly broke my arms. 

Foyle: You both speak English? 

Schimmel: Yes. It is normal. 

Foyle: The other airman who jumped with you didn't make it, I'm afraid. Erm, the cord to his parachute seemed to have been cut for some reason. 

The Germans look at each other and Schimmel nods. As Foyle moves towards the car they start to talk to each other.

Sabartovski: Der defekte Fallschirm w*r fur mich gemeint. 

Schimmel: Wovon sprechen Sie, denn? 

Sabartovski: Ich weiss zu viel uber das Funkmessegerat. 

Schimmel: Seien Sie still! 

Sabartovski: Sie wollten das ich dass nicht überlebe. Sie haben mir den defekten Fallschirm gegeben, nur hatte Kraus ihn bekomme.

Schimmel: Verdammt! Seien Sie still. 

Foyle: What are your names? 

Schimmel stands up and gives the n*zi salute.

Schimmel: Oberleutnant Schimmel. 

Foyle: And yours? 

Sabartovski stands.

Sabartovski: Sabartovski. 

A military vehicle is approaching them.

Foyle: Right. The, erm, plane you arrived in needs only a crew of three, it seems, yet there were four of you. One d*ad on the plane, one in the valley, and you two. I, er, was wondering if you'd... 

He turns as Major Cornwall and Private Tom Jackson get out of the car.

Tom: Right. Hande hoch. Hande hoch! 

Cornwall: Private Jackson, stop that. Treat them with the respect they deserve. 

He salutes the two Germans, and Schimmel salutes back.

Cornwall: Major Cornwall, Prisoner of w*r Interrogation Service. 

He shakes hands with both of them.

Cornwall: You're very welcome, gentlemen. Private Jackson. 

Tom: If you wouldn't mind? 

He leads them towards the car.

Foyle: Er, can I have a word? 

Cornwall: Yes, of course. 

Foyle: Er, having spoken to these two, er, not everything's quite as it should be. 

Cornwall: Well, thank you for the tip-off. 

He turns to go.

Foyle: Well, Major, the point is- 

Cornwall: We're very grateful for your help, but we would really prefer as a general rule if people didn't speak to enemy prisoners and left them to us. We are the experts. We run a very sophisticated show. Amateur sleuthing is, of course, understandable, but, um, unhelpful. 

Foyle: Right. 

Cornwall: Thank you. 

He goes round to get in the car, and Milner and Foyle exchange a look.

Jackson farm, night. Another air-raid is going on some distance away. Curling is out with his g*n.

Farm cottage. Barbara lies awake. At the sound of a g*n blast, she gets up and goes to look out of the window. She sees Curling out in the field blasting away repeatedly with his g*n.

Barbara: (Oh. Oh, God.) 

In the bunk beds opposite, the two land girls also lie awake. The g*n blasts go on.

Outside. Barbara leaves the building and gets on her bike. Jackson watches her from a window.

Road. Barbara is riding along in the darkness. A man on a bike is heading the other way and clips her with his shoulder in passing.

Barbara: Whoa! 

She turns to look after him, but he doesn't stop.

Farmhouse. Tom Jackson arrives on a bike, and Joan meets him at the door.

Joan: Hello, lover boy. 

Tom: Hey! 

She greets him with a kiss.

Farmhouse sitting room. Rose enters the room, where Jackson is waiting.

Rose: She's gone out. That Barbara. And Tom's here. 

Jackson: I know. 

He goes over to open a drawer and pulls out a revolver.

Jackson: Let's do it, then. 

Rose nods, and they go to leave.

Curling's field. Curling picks up a d*ad rabbit from the grass. He hears a single g*n and looks round, then checks his pocket watch.

Jackson farm. Rose and Joan ride along on the tractor in the dark. Jackson watches them go, carrying a whiskey bottle.

Ford. A lorry drives through in the darkness, heading away from the farm.

Later. Jackson, staggering drunk, sits down on a grassy bank.

Jackson: Oh.

He takes a swig from his whiskey bottle. Then he spots something and stands up, staring. He drops the bottle, clapping a hand over his mouth.

Daylight. Sam drives Foyle to the Jackson farm. Milner walks up to meet them as Tom and the women watch.

Milner: Morning, sir. 

Foyle: Morning. 

They walk towards the building as Sam gets out of the car and looks around. The land girls and Barbara all stare at her, looking unimpressed.

Farmhouse sitting room. Jackson is sitting d*ad in an armchair.

Foyle (offscreen): This how you found him? 

Milner (offscreen): Yes, sir. 

Foyle (offscreen): Why wouldn't it be su1c1de, then? 

Milner (offscreen): There's no note, and, when they use a g*n don't they normally blow their heads off? 

The g*n is tucked under Jackson's arm. Foyle takes a look around the room.

Foyle: Recently fired? 

Milner: Recently fired, sir. 

Foyle: Recently drunk as well, wouldn't you say? 

Milner: Scotch? 

Foyle: Mmm. Is there a wife? 

Milner: No, sir, but there's a son, Thomas. He found the body. 

Outside. Milner and Foyle question Tom where he's standing by the parked tractor.

Tom: Well, it was about 6am, 'cause I'd just arrived from barracks. 24-hour pass, on my bike. There's Dad just d*ad in his chair. 

Foyle: Why would he have k*lled himself, do you think? 

Tom: I don't know. 

The cows in the stalls opposite are mooing. Joan gets up from where the three women are sitting beside them and marches over.

Joan: Oi! Can't you hear them cows? Your little friend won't let us get on and milk 'em. Their titties are going to explode if we don't! 

Foyle: Well, do. Go ahead. 

Joan: Oh, well, thank you very much. 

She gestures towards Tom.

Joan: We'll take him too, if you can spare him. 

Foyle: Yep, certainly. 

Barbara stands up to leave.

Foyle: Are you not with them? 

Barbara: No. I don't work here. 

Foyle: Oh, right. But you're Land Army, yeah? 

Barbara: No. I'm wearing this for a dare. I'm a pole selector. I select poles. I survey woodland to find trees suitable for felling for pit props, for roadblocks, and poles. 

Foyle: Right. Did you, er, know Mr Jackson? 

Barbara: Not really. I've only been here a few days. 

Foyle: Right. First impressions? 

Barbara: That he was not too different from most men. Rude, lazy, lascivious, and ignorant. 

Foyle: Right. I see. Thank you very much. Erm, well, don't let me keep you. But if you'd, er, let us know where you'll be, I'd appreciate it. 

She'd nods and walks away.

Barn. Foyle stands talking to Rose as she milks one of the cows.

Foyle: So, er, you don't live at the hostel? 

Rose: Sometimes we do, but with the early start, sometimes we stay here. 

Foyle: In the house? 

Joan walks over to join them. Tom is also in the barn with them, shifting hay. 

Joan: In the cottage. 

Foyle: Right. Sorry, it's Joan...? 

Joan: Joan Dillon. 

Foyle: Joan Dillon. And Rose...? 

Rose: Rose Henshall. 

Foyle: Henshall. Thank you. And, erm, Mr Jackson lived alone in the house? 

Joan: Yeah. 

Foyle: I suppose, erm, with the air-raid it would have been impossible to hear anything like g*n? 

Joan: Ha! We heard plenty. 

Foyle: Did you? 

Joan: Curling was rabbiting. 

Tom: Curling farms the land just beside here. 

Foyle: Oh, right. 

Joan: sh**ting all night he was. 

Rose: Right close, an' all. Stupid man! He was angry with Hugh. Mr Jackson. 

Foyle: Oh. Why was that? 

Rose: You'd better ask him. 

Foyle: Right. 

He moves away. Rose gets up from her milking stall, rubbing her back. Then Foyle turns back.

Foyle: Where's, erm... Mrs Jackson? 

Rose: What d'you mean? 

Foyle: Thomas's mother. 

Rose: She pushed off with a farm labourer ten or twelve years ago. 

Foyle: Ah. Fine. Thank you. 

POW camp. Sabartovski sits alone in an interrogation room. Then Major Cornwall enters the room.

Cornwall: Ah. Leutnant Sabartovski. Wie ich sehe, haben Sie etwas Trockenes zum Anziehen bekommen. 

Sabartovski: Yes. Thank you, Major. 

Cornwall: Now, the relevant authorities have been notified you're alive and well. 

Sabartovski: Thank you, sir. 

Cornwall: I have to ask you some routine questions. You're a Luftwaffe navigator? 

Sabartovski: Yes, sir. 

Cornwall: And you're part of the crew of the Dornier? 

Sabartovski: I would like to help, Herr Major, but my duty is only to tell you my name, my rank-

Cornwall: Oh, absolutely, yes. Don't you worry. We play it right by the book here. Geneva Convention, 1929. 

He sits down opposite Sabartovski.

Cornwall: It's your duty to tell me nothing. And it's my duty to ask you to tell me everything. 

Later. Sabartovski is released into the yard, where he meets Schimmel.

Schimmel: Und? 

Sabartovski: Ging gut. 

Farmhouse sitting room. Jackson's body has been removed from the chair, leaving a bloodstain and a single b*llet hole through the back of the chair. Foyle looks at it, then studies the door behind. He takes out a pocket Kn*fe and digs at something embedded in the wood. Milner comes into the room.

Milner: No sign of the whiskey bottle, sir. 

Foyle: No? 

Milner: No. What's that? 

Foyle digs the b*llet out of the door.

Foyle: It's a b*llet. It's covered in blood. It's from a p*stol. What do you think? Fired from here, passes through Jackson into the door, finished off with a g*n and make it look like su1c1de? Clever. But not, er, clever enough to fool us, eh, Milner? 

Milner: Being the amateur sleuths we are. 

Foyle: Well, quite. But as far as everybody else is concerned, we'll stick with the su1c1de story, shall we?

Until someone tells us otherwise. 

Foyle: Yeah, that sort of thing. 

Sam enters the room.

Sam: Sir! Um, you'd better come. Barbara Hicks has found a German. 

The three of them and Barbara Hicks drive out to a field, followed by a police car. Curling stands aiming his g*n at the German, Raimund Weiser, who hangs apparently unconscious from a parachute caught in a tree.

Curling: Put your hands up, you m*rder Hun! Put your hands up or I'll sh**t your bleeding head off! 

Foyle and Milner get out of the car.

Foyle: Sir?

Curling swings to aim the g*n at them as Barbara gets out from the car behind them.

Curling: And you. 

Foyle: Is this your land? 

Curling: It should be. Who are you? 

Foyle: Well, we're the police. Erm, thank you for your help. I think we can manage this now, though. 

Curling: Yeah.

He lowers the g*n and starts walking away.

Foyle: Are you Mr Curling?

Curling: Yes. 

He keeps walking.

Two uniformed officers are freeing Weiser from the parachute. Foyle comes over to assist.

Foyle: Can you get him out? 

Policeman: Yeah.

Policeman 2: Yep.

They lower Weiser to the ground.

Foyle: Right. Pulse?

One of the policemen checks.

Policeman: Steady, sir. 

Foyle checks Weiser's holster and finds it empty.

Foyle: Hmm. Where's that gone? Luftwaffe lieutenant. See if he's got any more ID. 

Policeman: Sir. 

Foyle moves away to join Milner by the car. Barbara Hicks stands watching the policeman searching Weiser.

Foyle: A b*llet from a p*stol k*lled Jackson, didn't it? 

Milner: And this man obviously had a p*stol at some point. 

Foyle: Yeah, but rather limited opportunity on the face of it. I'd say a bit short on motive, too. German High Command identifies farmer as vital to British w*r effort, drops man with pinpoint accuracy into tree at Jackson Farm. Man assassinates target, then returns to hang from tree. 

Milner: So perhaps not our main suspect, then. 

Foyle: Maybe not. 

Milner: Someone could have taken his p*stol while he was hanging half-conscious from the tree, and then used it to k*ll Jackson. 

Foyle: Yep. 

Milner: Miss Hicks for instance? 

Foyle: Yep. Get him into the car. I'll have a word. 

Milner: Sir. 

He approaches the two policemen.

Milner: Found anything? 

Policeman: No, sir. 

Foyle approaches Barbara.

Barbara: I didn't see him come down. I assume it happened during the raid. 

Foyle: And directly you, er, found him you came to the farm? 

Barbara: Of course! I wasn't going to get him down on my own. English men are bad enough without getting tangled up with Germans. But even if he did come down during the raid, he wasn't here at 4am. 

Foyle: Oh, how d'you know that? 

Barbara: Because I was here at 4am. I came to get a glimpse of the badgers. There's a sett at the edge of the meadow. 

Foyle: Right. The raid was over by 4am, wasn't it? 

Barbara: Yes. 

Foyle: And you were here and you didn't see him? 

Barbara: I didn't see him because he was not here to be seen. 

Foyle: And you'd be sure of that because, um...?

Barbara: Because this is Quercus Robar. Just as beautiful in the dark. 

Foyle: Erm, difficult to, um, distinguish a p*stol sh*t in the middle of an air-raid, er, so difficult to be precise about when Mr Jackson died, and, er, unless you know different, nobody else seems to know. 

Barbara: Well, I'm sure the others told you we were treated to a night of g*n. Some from the raid, but mostly from the... inbred moron who lives next door. 

Foyle: Er, Mr Curling? 

Barbara: Yes. 

Foyle: Thank you. Where d'you get your opinion of men? 

Barbara: Experience. 

He nods, then after a moment turns and walks away. She smiles.

Back at the car, Sam is helping Weiser to drink from a canteen.

Weiser: Danke. 

Sam: He's rallying. Seems very shaken, though. May be a bit concussed. He must have fallen out of the tree with an almighty wallop. 

Foyle: Get him out of the farmhouse. See what he's got to say when he comes round. 

Milner: Should I let Cornwall know we've landed another airman? 

Foyle: Yeah, but no rush. 

He checks his watch.

Foyle: This is going to go into tomorrow, isn't it? See if you can't get us somewhere local for the night. 

Sam: That'd save petrol, sir. 

Foyle: I'm gonna go over to Curling, see what he's got to say. 

Sam: That'd save even more. 

Foyle: Wouldn't it. 

Milner: Shall we give Miss Hicks a lift back to the farm? 

Foyle: Yes, do. Good luck. 

Curling's farm. He's butchering the rabbits that he sh*t.

Curling: Everything in the Garden of Eden was tickety-boo until the women showed up. Them girls. Hugh Jackson was sitting there drunk, watching the weeds grow. Then in the Autumn of '39, he got the girls in. Well, I was offered an' all, but I didn't think they'd be much cop. I never fancied a woman could do it. But them two? Look at 'em. 

Joan and Rose are out planting potatoes again.

Curling: Them's a miracle, and that's that. 

Foyle: You and, er, Jackson didn't get on. What was the problem there? 

Curling: He got on the local committee. The w*r Ag. Well, two years back I was ready to buy some of his land. And then now he's on the committee. He gets grants. He's gone up the queue for a tractor. And now he's trying to get the committee to evict me for not putting more of my land under the plough. Well, they done that to a family over Newnham way. Kicked 'em off. Well, they told me to, to grow flax, hoping I'd fail, give them some excuse. Well, it's far too temperamental a crop. You have to pull it up by hand and we just haven't got the drainage, whereas he has got that bottom meadow as would be perfect. Well, you never see the committee forcing him to plough that up. 

Foyle: Why would he k*ll himself, then, do you think? 

Curling: His wife. He never got over that. She just pushed off with this farmhand, Andy Neame. Just left Jackson with the boy. But that's when he took to the drink, to be fair to him. 

Farmhouse. Weiser sits up propped against a haystack. He's alert now, but when he hears a vehicle arriving he slumps back down. Milner and a uniformed officer stand on guard. Cornwall and another soldier get out of a military vehicle.

Cornwall: This the chap, then? 

Milner: Yes. We're waiting to interview him. 

Cornwall: Major Cornwall. Prisoner of w*r Interrogation Service. You're very welcome. 

He shakes hands with Weiser.

Cornwall: Is he hurt? 

Milner: He was concussed, but he's come round. 

Cornwall: Good. Put him in the car. 

Milner: Sir, I'm not sure you understand. 

Cornwall: Excuse me! I'm not sure you understand. 

Milner: Detective Chief Superintendent Foyle. 

He nods towards Foyle behind Cornwall.

Cornwall: Detective? 

Foyle arrives with another uniform.

Foyle: Afternoon. 

Cornwall: I thought you said you were a farmer. 

Foyle: Did I? I don't remember that. Er, no, I'm not a farmer, I'm a policeman. Perfectly understandable error. It's possible, I'm afraid, there's been a m*rder here, and this man might be able to help. 

Cornwall: I don't give a damn. This chap's coming with us now. 

Foyle: Well, if you could give us twenty minutes-

Cornwall: We have all the authority we need. 

Two of his men help Weiser up.

Cornwall: Take care of him. He has concussion. 

Weiser takes a brief glance back at Foyle before getting into the car.

Jackson's bedroom. Foyle enters the room and looks around. He spots a bra that's been left on Jackson's bed. Sam leans in through the doorway.

Sam: Just to let you know I'm back, sir. 

Foyle: Thank you. 

She spots the bra.

Sam: Ooh! Silk. 

Foyle: Mr Jackson's? 

Sam snorts.

Foyle: Or was he surprisingly popular with the land girls? 

Sam: Well, Rose or Barbara's, I'd say. Too large for Joan. 

Foyle: Think so? 

Sam: Nice, though. D'you want me to find out about it, sir? 

He nods and she tucks it in her pocket.

Sam: Have you had enough for today? 

Foyle: Haven't you? 

Sam: Certainly. 

Hostel. Sam parks the car in front of the building and she, Foyle and Milner get out.

Foyle: What is this? 

Sam: The hotels and pubs are full, sir, billeting troops. 

Milner: But what is this? 

Sam leads the way into the building.

Sam: It's basic, but clean, and there's hot water. And the food's tip-top. 

Foyle: But what is it? 

Sam: It's the Women's Land Army hostel. 

She leads the way into a room where a large group of women are eating at a long table. They're approached by an older woman, Ellen McGee.

McGee: Mr Foyle. You're very welcome. Ellen McGee. 

They shake hands.

Foyle: How do you do? 

McGee: There's a separate little bit for you boys to sleep in. 

Foyle: Well, very kind of you. Thank you. 

McGee: Needs must. There's a w*r on. And it's perfect timing for dinner. Please. 

Woman: Can I take your coats? 

Foyle: Thank you. 

Sam sits down at the table.

Sam: Roast beef! Roast potatoes! Yorkshire. You'll never guess what's for pudding. 

The others sit down beside her.

Milner: What? 

Sam: Apple crumble. 

Milner: With custard? 

Sam: Mm-hmm. And there's bacon for breakfast. 

POW camp. Schimmel watches from the yard as Cornwall's car arrives. Cornwall opens the door for Weiser.

Cornwall: Es tut mir leid wegen die Polizei. Take him to the sanatorium. Make sure he's comfortable. Alles gut. 

Sabartovski is also watching through the wire as the men help Weiser out.

Weiser: Ah! Ah.

He spots Schimmel watching him.

Weiser: Heil h*tler. 

Schimmel salutes.

Schimmel: Heil h*tler. 

Weiser spots Sabartovski, and smirks.

Woods. Joan, Rose and Tom are carrying forks and shovels. Joan points to a spot on the ground.

Joan: There. 

Rose: Joan, don't you just think we should speak to that Mr Foyle-?

Joan: God, don't make me laugh! 

Rose: But, Joan- 

Joan: Just dig. Tom?

She beckons him over to join them, then looks over at Rose again.

Joan: Dig, or I'll put you in there an' all. 

Hostel. Foyle comes out of his room and crosses the hall to the bathroom, just as Barbara Hicks is coming out. She gasps in shock.

Barbara: What are you doing? 

Foyle: I'm sorry. Er, just trying to use the bathroom. 

Barbara: No, what are you doing here? Men aren't allowed in the hostel. 

Foyle: No, you're absolutely right. They, er, just decided to make an exception last night. But you stay at the farm, don't you? What are you doing here? 

Barbara: You expect me to be staying at a place where someone was m*rder? I didn't feel safe. 

Foyle: Right. He was m*rder, was he? 

Barbara: Well, if it were simple su1c1de, why would some as lofty as yourself be spending so much time on it? 

He raises his eyebrows and blinks, and turns to watch her as she walks away.

Post office. Sam pulls up outside with Foyle and Milner in the car.

Inside. The postmistress is on a phone plugged in to the local telephone exchange.

Postmistress: And he may be in the Holy Land, but managing to get his wife pregnant from 1,000 miles away is a miracle that even our Lord is... 

She sees that Foyle and Milner have come in and waves a hand at them.

Postmistress: Just one moment. Hello? Katherine, I'd better dash.

She hands up and stands up.

Postmistress: Good morning, gentlemen. Sorry to keep you. 

Foyle: No, good morning, sorry to trouble you. I wonder if you can help us? We're police, looking into the incident at the Jackson-

Postmistress: Jackson's farm. Oh, terrible thing, that. 

Foyle: Yes. Wasn't it? Yeah. I understand, erm, you took a call from there, er, the morning he died?

Postmistress: Yes. Tom rang in, reporting that he'd found his father. 

Foyle: Right. And that was what time? 

Postmistress: At six. 

Foyle: Six. And that was it? Just the one call? 

Postmistress: Oh, no, there was another one, about 30 minutes earlier. 

Foyle: From the farm? 

Postmistress: Well, I can't be sure it was from the farm, because rang off before I got there. 

Foyle: Perfectly understandable. Well, that's all we need to know. Thank you for your help. We appreciate it. 

Postmistress: No, thank you.

Curling enters the post office with his rabbits.

Postmistress: Oh, Mr Curling! They are beautiful! 

Foyle: Mr Curling, er, do forgive me. Forgot to ask you, er, the other day. Would you have heard any, er, sh*ts from the Jackson farm the morning he died at all? 

Curling: Yes. One at, er, five o'clock, then two more maybe half an hour later. 

Foyle: Right. Thank you. 

Curling: Anything else you forgot to ask? 

Foyle: Er, well, as, er, soon as I remember I'll let you know. 

He and Milner leave. As they get into the car a bus pulls up opposite. A raggedly dressed man, Andrew Neame, gets out.

Jackson farm. Tom and the land girls are out in the field with the tractor. They hear the sound of the car approaching the ford.

Rose: Here they come again. 

Joan: You keep your nerve. You hear me? The pair of you. 

Bridge over the river. Foyle and Milner look down over the water.

Foyle: We should get this dragged. 

Milner: Right, sir. 

Foyle: And see if, erm, any of the three girls has got a record, and get a lead on the missing wife and the chap she ran off with of you can. 

Milner: Yes, sir. Is that all? 

Foyle: No, not quite. Get over to the camp. Find out what the Major's got to say about Tom Jackson, and what the chances are of getting to speak to the chap that we pulled out of the tree. You might also see if he's got any idea that one of the other two we picked up, the young lad, is not an airman at all. 

They arrive at the car where Sam is waiting.

Foyle: Did you speak to the girls? 

Sam: Not yet, sir. 

Foyle: Do. Let me know how you get on. 

Farmyard. Sam approaches Rose as she parks the tractor.

Sam: Rose, can I have a word? 

Rose: Yeah. 

Sam: Erm, is this yours? 

She shows her the silk bra.

Rose: No. No, it isn't. It's not. Anyway, who are you to be asking? 

Sam: True. Right. Thank you. 

She walks away.

A large shed at the farm, with hanging meat hooks. Foyle walks around, taking a look. He crouches down and sticks his finger in a crack in the concrete floor. There's blood left in the crack.

Sam (offscreen): No joy, I'm afraid, sir. 

She enters, still holding the bra.

Sam: She said it wasn't hers. But I suspect she wasn't telling the truth, although it is quite an expensive item for Rose. 

Barbara Hicks arrives in the building.

Barbara: Mr Foyle, I've remembered something. I'm sorry I didn't say before, but I've only just remembered. When I left the farm at around four on the morning Jackson died, I nearly bumped into a man on a bicycle just at the end of the lane. I couldn't describe him. 

Foyle: Well, never mind. 

Barbara: Anyway, he had a rucksack on his back. 

Foyle: Well, thank you. 

Barbara notices the bra that Sam is holding.

Barbara: Where did you get that? 

Sam: This? I, um, it's... 

Barbara: It's mine. What are you doing with it? 

Foyle: Oh, well, we, erm, we were just trying to decide, erm, what it was doing in Hugh Jackson's bedroom. 

Barbara: Well, when you've decided would you let me know? May I take it? Or is it Exhibit A? 

Foyle: Well, yes, it is, er, but do feel free to take it. We'll let you know when we need it. 

Sam hands it back and Barbara leaves.

POW camp. Milner is in Cornwall's office.

Cornwall: I'm sorry, no. Leutnant Weiser is a prisoner of w*r and has his rights. He's also in no fit state. 

Milner: Well, perhaps we could speak to him when he's feeling better. 

Cornwall: Perhaps. 

Milner: You have a Private Tom Jackson here. It was his father who was sh*t. 

Cornwall: I know, that's why he's on compassionate leave. If you want to talk to him, surely he's at home?

Milner: No, I wondered if you could tell us anything about him. 

Cornwall: Funnily enough, I can. Within hours of his father's death he has submitted that he now has responsibility for his father's farm, and has asked for Reserved Occupation status. When he was first called up, he also tried to dodge the column by claiming Reserved Occupation. He said he was vital to his father's farm. His father told us otherwise. 

Cornwall hands Milner a note signed by Hugh Jackson.

Milner: His father reported him! 

Cornwall: Mm-hmm. 

Shed. Foyle stands where he found the blood, talking to the two land girls.

Foyle: How often is this place cleaned? 

Joan: Well, the parlour and the shed are cleaned thoroughly morning and night after milking. 

Foyle: You k*ll animals here? 

Joan: Well, not since we've been here. 

Foyle: Well, this blood on the floor here. Would you know anything about that? 

Joan: No, I don't. 

Rose: No, I don't. 

Foyle: No? Hugh Jackson a violent man? 

Rose: No, he wasn't a violent man. 

Foyle: Hmm? Evidently, um, Curling heard sh*ts coming from this farm the night Jackson died, about five, five thirty. Would you have heard them? 

Rose: From five I was out on the tractor. 

Foyle: Oh. Doing what? 

Rose: Harrowing. 

Foyle: Oh. What, in the dark? 

Rose: Yeah. It's not that hard. You put lamps at either end of the field and you steer by them, like a ship. There aren't enough hours of daylight to do everything here. 

Joan: Yeah, and I was with her. I was moving the lamps. 

Foyle: Right. So you wouldn't have heard, er, the sh*ts, then? No? 

Joan: No.

Foyle: Right. Well, thank you. 

The girls turn to leave.

Foyle: Listen, did you ever spot, erm, anything going on between, er, Hugh Jackson and Barbara Hicks? 

Joan laughs.

Joan: The dirty old bugger! 

Foyle: No, no, no, I didn't say, er, there was, I was just asking. 

Joan: Well, why was you asking if there wasn't something? 

The two girls leave.

Foyle: Right. 

Farmyard. The girls emerge from the milking parlour and spot Sam waiting by the car.

Joan: Lady Muck keeping her eye on the sodbusters, is she? 

Sam: Listen, I don't know what I've done- 

Joan: Why don't the old man drive hisself? 

Sam: He's not an old man. 

Joan: Don't you know there's a w*r on? Us breaking our backs, and here's you, all spick-and-span, with your barnet done up like a Cornish pasty, hanging around-

Sam: Look, I was drafted in from the MTC to drive Mr Foyle. 

Joan: Is he giving you one? 

Rose: Joanie.

Joan: Is that it? What, are you his fancy woman? Is that how it works? 

Rose: Joanie, just leave it. Come on. 

She ushers Joan away.

Woods. Neame makes his way through the trees.

Policeman (offscreen): Sir. 

At the nearby river, two uniformed officers have found a bicycle. They wheel it up the bank as Foyle and Milner come over to look. Behind them, Joan comes over the bridge, followed by Sam.

Milner: Well, there's no rust. 

He touches the chain.

Milner: And the oil is fresh. Can't have been in there more than two days at most. 

Joan comes over to look.

Milner: D'you know whose bicycle this is? 

Joan: Well, we've all got bikes, but that ain't one of ours. 

Foyle: Right. Thank you. Thanks.

Milner: So, who would need a bicycle, and then need to throw it away? 

They back over the bridge.

Sam: Can I do anything to help, sir? 

Foyle: Not for the moment. Thank you. 

Sam stands with her arms folded as they and the uniformed officers walk away.

In the woods, Neame is watching all of this from between the trees.

Farmhouse. Foyle climbs the stairs and enters one of the bedrooms. He looks at a picture of young Tom and his mother on the nightstand, and then some old wooden toy figures still set up on a table.

Milner (voiceover): There was a lot of noise with the air battle and Curling sh**ting. 

Outside. Milner is speaking to Tom as he shifts crates around.

Milner: Did Curling stop sh**ting before the air battle had ended, or did he go on a little while after the planes had left? 

Tom: After. The air battle stopped about four. Then he stopped. 

Milner: That's right, at five o'clock. An hour before you say you got back to the farm. You left the barracks at midnight. You can't have taken six hours, it's a four-hour ride tops. 

Tom: Well, it was dark. And roadblocks. And I got lost. 

Milner: Why are you lying? 

Joan watches the two of them from a distance.

Tom: I didn't k*ll him. 

Milner: I didn't say you did. Can't have been easy for him, raising you alone after your mother had left. 

Tom: Well, maybe if he'd have behaved better she'd have stayed. 

Upstairs. Foyle is still looking at the wooden toys. Milner arrives to join him.

Milner: Been busy? 

Foyle: Yep. All work, no play. 

Milner: Tom Jackson's story doesn't add up, so there's no explanation for where he was. 

The two of them leave the farmhouse and head back to the car, joined by Sam. Tom watches them as they get in the car and drive away.

Foyle: What do you think? Tom Jackson hated his father and by k*lling him stood to inherit a valuable farm. 

Milner: So improving his chances of getting Joan to marry him. 

Foyle: And Reserved Occupation status to get out of the Army. Joan stood to inherit the farm by getting Hugh Jackson out of the way by marrying Tom. Rose seems to have been afraid of Jackson for some reason, and is certainly hiding something. 

Milner: And the German? 

Foyle: Yep. How did the g*n get to the farm? And who's the man with the rucksack seen by Barbara Hicks? 

Ahead of them, Barbara is kneeling by the side of the road, trying to fix her bike.

Milner: Speak of the devil. 

They pull up beside her.

Sam: Got a puncture? 

Foyle: Would you like a lift? 

Barbara: Oh, thank you. 

Milner gets out to help.

Milner: I can put your bicycle in the back. 

Barbara: That's very kind of you. 

Milner: Not at all. It's all part of the service. 

Barbara gets into the car as Milner puts her bike in the boot.

Sam: How was your day, Miss Hicks? 

Barbara: Oh, pretty good, thank you. I found my quota of long, straight suitable softwoods. "Poles manufactured for the purpose of."

Walking through the woods, Neame spots their car and stops.

Barbara: But I also found wood anemones, and celandines, and bluebells. I just love the woods this time of year. 

Sam: So do I. 

Milner gets in and they drive away. Neame watches them go, then turns to look at the farm building through the trees.

POW camp. Schimmel is walking around in the yard, and spots Major Cornwall.

Schimmel: Oh, excuse me, Herr Major. 

Cornwall: Ah. Oberleutnant Schimmel. Wie geht es Ihnen? 

Schimmel: I'm doing well. Thank you. 

Cornwall: Good. 

Schimmel: Um, there was a man yesterday came into the camp. Um, tall-

Cornwall: Leutnant Weiser. 

Schimmel: Jawohl, Herr Major. 

Cornwall: What about him? 

Schimmel: Er, he's an old comrade.

Cornwall: Ah.

Schimmel: Um, I wondered where he was. 

Cornwall: In the sanatorium. Er, bit of concussion, I'm afraid. But he'll be fine. Getting the best of care. 

Schimmel: Oh, good. And he will be coming in here with us? 

Cornwall: Day after tomorrow. Er, yes, that's what the quack says. 

Schimmel: Thank you. 

Cornwall: You're very welcome. 

Outside the hostel. Sam paces around, waiting by the car. Foyle comes out of the building to join her.

Foyle: Morning. 

Sam: Morning, sir. 

Foyle: You all right? 

She nods and they both get in the car.

They drive along.

Sam: Sir. 

Foyle: Sam. 

Sam: Do you think I do enough for the w*r effort, sir? I mean, shouldn't I be doing more than just driving you around? 

Foyle: Is that all you do? 

Sam: No, I- I... also spend a lot of time hanging around while you're working. 

Foyle: What's brought this on? 

Sam: Well, I was thinking about the girls on the farm, sir, how hard they work. And right at the minute with the potatoes, I think they could do with an extra pair of hands. 

Foyle: Well, go ahead. 

Sam: Really? 

Foyle: You want to help them out today? 

Sam: What will you do, sir? 

Foyle: Well, we're at the farm all day. If I'm really in trouble I'll let you know. 

Sam: Thank you, sir. 

Foyle: It's a pleasure. 

They arrive at the farm and get out of the car. Rose and Joan are watching from in front of the milking parlour.

Milner (offscreen): Check the barn.

Policeman (offscreen): Yes, sir.

Sam goes round to the back of the car and takes a bag and a bundle of clothes out of the boot.

Sam: Just some rough clothes, sir. I borrowed them from the girls at the hostel. Just in case you...

Foyle: I see. 

Rose: What's she doing?

Sam heads towards the land girls with the clothes.

Woods. Barbara paces away from a tree to gauge the height. She hears a twig in the woods and turns to look. In the distance, Neame is still lurking near the farm buildings. Barbara watches as he runs away.

Farmhouse sitting room. Foyle is going through drawers, and finds one with a compartment at the back. There's a revolver wrapped in cloth inside. Milner enters the room behind him, holding a p*stol.

Milner: Sir. A Luger. Hidden in some logs at the front of the house. 

Foyle shows him the other g*n.

Milner: Oh, I see. Jackson's? 

Foyle: Mm-hmm. Three sh*ts. Three g*n. 

He sniffs the revolver.

Milner: Recently fired? 

Foyle: Recently fired. 

He nods at the Luger.

Foyle: Well, we know who that belongs to. I think I should return it, don't you? 

The two of them leave the farmhouse together. Sam is out working in the field with Rose and Joan.

Foyle: Listen, Sam wants to do her bit for the w*r effort. Get one of the chaps to drive me to the camp, will you? 

Milner: Yes, sir. 

In the field, Sam and Rose are both planting potatoes. Rose suddenly turns away and vomits.

Sam: You all right, Rose? 

Rose: Mmm. 

Sam straightens up with a groan. She notices the car driving away through the ford.

Sam: Hey. Hey! Blast it. 

Joan: Ah. Lover boy run off without you? 

Sam: Shut up, will you? 

Joan: You wanna make me? 

Rose: Put a sock in it, Joan!

She tries and fails to start the tractor.

Rose: Bleeding Yank rubbish! 

Sam: Here. You're flooding it. 

She comes over and gets it started.

Joan: I suppose Daddy has a fleet of these on his estate. 

Sam: No. My cousin does. 

POW camp. Sabartovski is talking with Tom in the yard. Foyle watches them through the blinds of Cornwall's office. Pacing around, he spots a decorated box in a half-open drawer. That prompts him to open the cigar case on the desk and take a look at the cigars inside. Cornwall arrives a few moments later.

Cornwall: Sorry to keep you waiting. 

Foyle: Not at all. 

Cornwall: Erm, please. 

He offers Foyle a seat.

Foyle: Er, no, I won't, thank you. I'm simply here to speak to Raimund Weiser. 

Cornwall: I'm afraid that won't be possible. 

Foyle: Ah. Well, two or three attempts have been made to speak to a man, er, likely to be able to help in a m*rder enquiry, all of which have been rejected-

Cornwall: Look, it's a general rule at the Prisoner of w*r Interrogation Service- 

Foyle: So I may find myself having to look into the extent to which you're involved with, er, black market cigars. 

Cornwall: Right. I see. 

He closes the desk drawer.

Cornwall: Very well. But I shall be present. I'm not having you ruin all the hard work we've been putting in. The debriefing of enemy flyers is a delicate science. 

Foyle: You, er, get anything useful from the first two airmen? 

Cornwall: I'm sure very few of our boys sh*t down over there blab their mouths out the moment they're caught, so  I'm not surprised to find the Germans don't blab to use. It's a slow process. If one tries to intimidate them they clam up. We, however, try to baffle them with kindness. To very good effect I might add. You wouldn't believe the results we get. 

Foyle: Er, Sabartovski, the unarmed one not in uniform-

Cornwall: He had a flying suit, and many of them aren't armed. If you want to speak to Herr Weiser, I'll arrange it. But don't try to take over my job, Detective Chief Superintendent. This way. 

He leads the way out of the office.

Camp sanatorium. Weise is lying in one of the beds. He turns to look as Cornwall and Foyle enter.

Cornwall: Guten Morgen. Wie geht es Ihnen? 

Weiser: Besser, danke. 

Cornwall: Hier ist Hauptkommissar Foyle von der Polizei. 

Foyle: Morning.

Weiser: Guten Morgen. Ich kenne ihn. Wir kennen uns. 

Cornwall: I'll translate for you. His English is non-existent. 

Foyle: Right. Erm, I'm, well, I'm wondering if he remembers the night he was sh*t down. 

Cornwall: Die Nacht, als Sie niedergeschossen wurden? 

Foyle: Erm, he came down into the trees? 

Cornwall: Sie landenten im Wald? 

Weiser: Ich, ich, ich, ich w*r bewusstlos. Ich hab ein Schlag auf den Kopf gegangt. 

Cornwall: He was, er, unconscious. He banged his head. 

Foyle: Right. Um, this, erm, p*stol... 

He unwraps the Luger, and Foyle sits up at the sight of it.

Weiser: Wo hat er denn meine p*stol her? 

Foyle: D'you know how you lost it? 

Weiser: Als ich im Baum steckte. Ich w*r- ich w*r kaum bei Sinnen, dann kam diese Frau und hat sie genommen. 

Foyle: He says a woman came and took it when he was hanging from the tree, erm, but he was barely conscious. 

Weiser: Und ich kann mich daran erinnern, sie, sie trug eine rote Jacke. 

Cornwall: She had a, a, a red jacket on. 

Weiser: Blondes Haar. Und, ja, sie w*r attraktiv. 

Cornwall: Blonde hair, was, was very attractive. 

Jackson farm. Sam is sitting on the bank where Jackson went to drink. Joan arrives with her lunch and sees her there.

Joan: Oh. 

Sam: It's all right. I think there's room for two. 

She picks up her bag to start eating her own lunch.

Joan: Why are you always so nice? Just given you a right slagging back there. Is that what they teach you in posh school, how to not show how you feel? 

Sam: Yes, I suppose it is. 

Joan: Yeah, well, I will sit down as it happens.

She sits.

Joan: This here's my spot, see. It's called Poppy Bank. Though I ain't never seen no poppies. D'you grow up in the country? 

Sam: Yes, I did. 

Joan: I could tell. The way you cracked on up there. I never. 

Sam: You never what? 

Joan: Never grew up in the country. Poplar, East London. Don't think I'd never seen the country till I come here. I hated it at first. Be sad to leave it now. 

Sam: D'you think you will leave? 

Joan spots something on the ground.

Joan: Hugh. Messy bugger! 

She picks up an empty whiskey bottle.

Joan: D'you know, he loved this spot. Loved a spot of that an' all. D'you know, he loved this meadow so that much when we got our quota we had to turn all of that over. Pull it all back from undergrowth and brambles. Anything so we didn't have to plough up his precious field. 

Rose walks over to join them.

Joan: Generous he was... with our sweat. 

Rose: Well, if you two get off your arses, we'll have it done by dark. Thanks to you. 

She nods at Sam.

Joan: Yeah. Thanks to you. 

Sam lies back on the grass.

Post office. Foyle's car is parked outside, and his driver paces.

Postmistress: Hugh Jackson's wife ran off with the farmhand eleven years ago. 

Inside. Foyle is there to question the postmistress again.

Postmistress: His name was Andrew Neame. 

Foyle: Any idea where they went? 

Postmistress: Hmm. Oh, King's North Farm, Faversham in Kent. Nothing ever came for them, mind. Nothing came in the other direction either. Not a birthday card for the little lad. Not a dickie bird. 

Foyle: Well, that's a shame. 

Postmistress: But then she was French. 

Foyle: Right. D'you mind if I, er, made a call? 

Postmistress: No. 

Woods. Barbara leads Foyle and Milner through the trees.

Barbara: I don't know who he was, but he was watching the farm, and he seems to be living in the woods. I saw him yesterday while I was working. 

Foyle: And how would a p*stol help you in your work? The German parachutist has described you as the woman that took the p*stol from his holster while he was hanging from the tree. 

Milner heads off into the trees as Foyle and Barbara stop.

Barbara: Are you suggesting I took this German's g*n and sh*t Hugh Jackson, a man I barely knew anyway? 

Foyle: No, not at all. It was suggested to me that you, erm, simply took the g*n. 

She starts walking again and he follows her.

Barbara: Even if I did take it I couldn't have sh*t Jackson with it, because I didn't come across the German until after he was d*ad. 

Foyle: So you said. 

Barbara: There you go again. You don't believe me, you'd rather believe him. 

Foyle: No, not at all. I was simply doing my job. 

Barbara: Why are you so sure it was me he described? 

She comes to a halt again. 

Foyle: Well, red jacket. Blonde hair. Very attractive. 

She looks taken aback.

Foyle: Sad eyes. 

Milner (offscreen): Sir! 

He's found a patch of disturbed earth.

Milner: Over here. 

The other two join him.

Barbara: What is it? 

Milner: Looks like a grave. Freshly dug. 

There's the sound of a twig snapping somewhere off in the woods. They head in that direction, and find a campsite. Foyle nods at Milner, who goes around to approach it from the opposite side. Neame, coming back to his campsite, spots Foyle and Barbara.

Foyle: Sir?

Neame drops the branch he's using as a walking stick and turns to run, but meets Milner. As he goes to run again, Milner tackles him to the ground.

Neame: Ah! Ah! 

Barbara picks up the branch and brandishes it at Neame.

Neame: Ah!

He stops struggling.

Milner: Thank you, Miss Hicks. 

He gets up. Foyle looks down at Neame.

Foyle: Mr Neame? 

Farmyard. They've brought Neame back with them to question him.

Milner: So what are you doing living in the woods, Mr Neame? 

Neame: Heard Hugh Jackson topped hisself. Is that right, boy? 

Foyle: No, it's not. He was m*rder. 

Neame: Was he? What about Genevieve? Where's she? Mrs Jackson. 

Foyle: Mrs Jackson not with you? 

Neame: Only in my dreams, boy. 

Foyle: When did you last see her? 

Neame: Eleven year ago. May 2nd, 1930. 

Milner exchanges a look with Foyle.

Woods. Foyle and Milner return to the gravesite where two uniformed officers are digging.

Milner: If Mrs Jackson didn't run off with Neame and she hasn't been seen at the farm for eleven years, you have to wonder. 

Foyle: You do. 

Milner: What did the people at the farm in Faversham have to say about him? 

Foyle: Well, they confirmed, er, he moved there eleven years ago, and had lived alone. Evidently he went off the rails a bit and hasn't been seen for a couple of years. 

The policemen digging uncover something.

Policeman: Sir. 

They pull out a pig carcass.

POW Camp. A lorry backs towards a group of POWs who are standing in front of some dustbins.

Man (offscreen): Halt! Load it up. 

In the sanatorium, Weiser hears the noise and gets out of bed to watch.

As POWs load dustbins into the back of the lorry, Schimmel and Sabartovski crawl towards it.

Schimmel: (Kommen Sie schon.)

Sabartovski: (Warum denn?)

Schimmel: (Sie sind in Gefahr. Wir mussen hier raus.)

Sabartovski: (Sie werden uns erschiessen.)

Scimmel: (Komm!)

They crawl under the lorry and cling on to the bottom. The back of the lorry goes up and it begins to drive away, passing through a group of POWs playing football. Tom Jackson is on duty at the gate. The lorry stops beside him and he leans in to talk to the driver.

From the sanatorium window, Weiser watches.

The guards move to open the gate. Beneath the lorry, Sabartovski loses his grip and drops to the ground. Spotting him, Tom bangs on the side of the lorry.

Tom: Hey, stop the wagon! 

He points his r*fle at Sabartovski.

Sabartovski: Please! Don't sh**t me, please! 

Tom laughs.

Tom: You're all right, mate. Bernard, check under there. 

Schimmel lets go of the lorry and drops to the ground.

Bernard: Come on out, you. 

The two POWs stand up. Schimmel shrugs at Tom, then spots Weiser in the window. Weiser smiles and wags a finger at him.

Jackson farm. Sam and the land girls are planting potatoes at the very edge of the ploughed area. Sam reaches the end of her row and turns to look back over the field.

Joan: That's it. That's the field done. 

Sam raises her trowel into the air.

Sam: Dig for victory! 

Rose laughs. She sits down on the ground.

Rose: This was all brambles. Hawthorns, sycamore. We cleared it by hand, Joan and me. Through the winter of '39. Coldest in living memory. Birds froze to death as they flew through the air. And we was out here in our gumboots. They asked us for fifteen new acres under cultivation. We gave 'em twenty. We had to break the ground with a pick. This year we'll get 30 tons of spuds out of it.

Sam: Why did you join the Women's Land Army? 

Rose: I wanted to do my bit. My two brothers are away in the Army. I wanted to... to help 'em. To help bring 'em back alive. 

She spots something behind Sam, and the other girls turn to look. Two uniformed police officers are making their way towards the three of them.

Police interview room. Foyle is questioning Joan.

Foyle: The sh*t at 5am that Curling heard, was that the pig being k*lled? Half taken away to be sold, the rest hung at the back of the milking parlour to be dealt with later, but, er, we all turned up that day, so you decided maybe you should bury it in the woods? 

Joan: Says you. 

Foyle: Well, you see, everywhere people are tightening their belts. They're making sacrifices for their country, and the law is taking a very dim view of the black market. 

Joan: Don't give me "tightening the belt"! We ain't even been paid for two months. Every penny has gone towards that tractor. Hugh came up with the pig as a way to make the last payment. It was nothing to do with me. I warned him against it. 

Foyle: Very easy to blame a man who can't defend himself. 

Joan: I can't help that! Look, all I know is I didn't want nothing to do with the whole pig thing. Even Tom didn't. But Hugh said that we had to. What with that Barbara hanging around, he needed help to get it out of the way as quick as possible. And Rose, you know, she just saw him sh**t the pig, was sick, and then went out and ploughed. What crime that is is beyond me. 

Foyle: Well, whether we like it or not, profiteering is against the law, and even though you may not have taken part in it you knew all about it, and it ought to have been reported. 

Joan: You're only picking on me 'cause I've got a record. You know, that's why I run away from London, to start again, but you won't let me. I didn't want a life of crime. I wanted something different. And I found that here. My family don't know where I am. Even my mum don't. You know, for two years I've been my own person. 

Later. Foyle is questioning Rose.

Rose: They done a big list of all the farms. How many workers, buildings, how many livestock. The government. They called it the Second Domesday Book. Hugh never told 'em all his pigs. Or his sheep. And there was more sheep, because they evacuated over 100,000 off of Romney Marsh, and... he copped some of them as they went by. All the farmers around here did. 

Foyle: Joan organise that? 

Rose: No. She was against it. Said you always get caught, and she was right. It was Hugh. He said all the farmers around here do it. And he was right. You enjoyed your food at the hostel. 

Foyle nods.

Rose: Oh, yeah! All our beef. And the pork, and the eggs, and the lamb. Suppose you'll have to arrest yourself for receiving stolen goods. 

Foyle sits down opposite her.

Foyle: Are you feeling any better? 

Rose: What? 

Foyle: Sam and Joan told me you've, er, not been very well a couple of times just recently. 

Rose: I'm fine. Thank you. 

Foyle: Good. Would that have, erm, had anything to do with Hugh? Would, erm... stealing other people's underwear to wear for him mean that you were very much in love with him, or that you were afraid he wasn't with you? 

Rose: I thought it'd make him love me more. He wasn't an easy man to love. His heart was... What with his wife pushing off he... But there was a good man underneath. A man who could feel love. I think. 

Foyle: But not enough to want you to keep the child you're carrying. 

Rose: No. No!

She starts to cry.

Later. Now Neame is in the interview room.

Neame: We was in love, see? She wanted to get away. We'd arranged it. Ten past twelve to London. I waited for her. At the station. She never come. I waited till the next one. One after that. She wanted to come, boy. I knew that. But the boy. I feared it'd break her heart to leave him. Even though she said she could bear it. She couldn't bring him with her, see? We'd always know that one day Jackson would find us. I understood in the end why she didn't come. Thought better of her for it. If you understand what I mean. 

Foyle: I do. What are you doing back here, then? 

Neame: Heard Jackson had done himself in. Saw it in the paper. Was over Tenterden way on piecework. I saw this. 

He gets out a folded newspaper article and gives it Foyle. Foyle unfolds it to see it's the Tenterden Times and has a small paragraph about Jackson's death.

Foyle's office. Foyle is there with Milner and Sam.

Foyle: He's not going to have nipped over to Tenterden to pick up a paper then back to the farm to wait to get caught. 

Milner: Yes, sir, but he's not the full shilling. 

Foyle: Well, I think that's more to do with a broken heart. No, he's telling the truth. I don't think Mrs Jackson ever left the farm. 

Sam: Sir. 

Foyle: Yeah? 

Sam: I think I know where she might be. 

Poppy bank. Uniformed officers are digging while Sam, Milner and Foyle watch.

Sam: They call it Poppy Bank. Poppies grow where untouched ground has been disturbed after many years. Evidently they grew where the land had been shelled during the last w*r. Isn't that right, sir? 

Foyle: Mmm. 

Sam: Anyway, Jackson wouldn't hear of the meadow being ploughed up. This is where he used to sit. This is where he sat and drank whiskey the night he died. 

Off in the woods, a flock of birds take off from the trees, disturbed by something.

Barbara (indistinct shout in the distance): Why?

Foyle turns to look in that direction.

Further off in the woods, Barbara is standing at the base of a tree, sobbing. Foyle approaches her and stands silently by. She collects herself, sniffing.

Barbara: The dog, the woman, and the walnut tree, the more you b*at them the better they be, isn't that what they say? 

Foyle: What is it? 

Barbara: It's so wonderful working here in these woods. You're so busy, there's so much to do, there's so much going on that you can't think. That's what's so lovely about it. But then sometimes it just sneaks up on you. 

Foyle: What happened to you? 

Barbara: There was a man. There was a marriage. Not a nice one. But there was a son. A beautiful son. And my son... my beautiful son... I lost at Dunkirk. 

She starts to sob. After a few moments, Foyle steps up and puts his arms around her. She cries against his shoulder.

Barbara: Men! w*r! This filthy, blasted, bloody w*r! 

Sam (offscreen): Sir! 

They step apart as she comes through the trees.

Sam: Sir! 

Foyle looks at Barbara, who gives him a slight nod. He goes off after Sam.

Poppy Bank. Foyle, Sam and Milner watch as one of the policemen brushes mud away from a human skull.

POW camp. Sabartovski attaches a wire to the fence metal fence. Weiser watches him from the sanatorium window.

Guard hut. Tom and another guard sit by the wireless as Sabartovski comes in.

Tom: That's better. Getting something now. 

Sabartovski: Try this.

He fiddles with one of the knobs on the wireless. A man's voice speaking in a West Indian accent is heard.

Radio: Well- 

Tom: Wait. Stop! Did you hear? 

Radio: The only way to get him out is to continue with this tactic of probing at the leg stump. 

Tom: Did you hear? 

Radio: I think that's where his weakness lies. And now we have him coming up to bowl again.

Sabartovski: What is it? 

Tom: Shh. 

Radio: There we go. Fooled there by the variable bounce. And they're appealing. The umpires are conferring.

Sabartovski: Is it some sort of-

Tom: Shh! 

Radio: And he's given him! Leg before! 

Tom: He's given him! Bowled him leg stump there. Must be the one that kept straight. This is- this is just mad! We've had no cricket for two years. Where's it coming from? 

Sabartovski: Also, I don't know exactly. It might-

He looks up at the sound of the door as Milner enters.

Milner and Tom leave the camp and get into a car. 

Foyle (voiceover): Cricket? 

Tom (voiceover): Yeah. Mad, innit? 

He's sitting in Foyle's office.

Tom: From the West Indies or something, it must be. See, with them Jerries we've got radio operators and all that. They are clever blokes all right! I hope our chaps are as clever. 

Foyle: We found the pig. Where was your father when you left? 

Tom: He was off drinking. I didn't sh**t him. Why would I? 

Foyle: Well, he... reported you to the army authorities. He didn't like your girlfriend much. And, erm... Tell me about what happened to your mother. 

Tom: She left when I was young with a bloke who worked on the farm. 

Foyle: You ever hear from her after she left? 

Tom: No. 

Foyle: You ever try to get in touch with them? 

Tom: No. 

Foyle: Why would that be? 

Tom: I suppose... she wouldn't want me. She wouldn't want me to, would she? 

Foyle: Wouldn't she? 

They're both silent for a moment.

Foyle: Tom, I'm afraid she's d*ad. She didn't run off with anybody. In fact, she never left the farm. 

Tom: She did! She did, I remember her saying goodbye. I was there playing with my farm animals and she came in. She said she was going away for a while. And I wanted her to get on with it 'cause I wanted to get on playing with my farm. I just thought she was going shopping or something. And then she never came back. 

Foyle: I think maybe she... intended to leave. But your father didn't want her to go. And I'm afraid it was him who k*lled her. 

Tom: Must have really loved her, mustn't he? Joanie always said I should forgive him 'cause he had a broken heart. When you think about it she must be right. 

Interview room. Rose and Joan are both sitting at the table as Foyle and Sam enter.

Joan: Oh, big man, you gonna charge us now? 

Foyle: No. Free to go. 

Joan: You're having me on. 

Foyle: No. 

Rose: Joanie, just shut up and say thank you. 

Joan: Thank you. 

Foyle: Pleasure. 

Joan: So how we gonna get back? 

Foyle: A police escort. Come on. 

He gestures for them to follow him and Sam.

The car pulls up outside the hostel.

Sam: Coming in, sir? 

Foyle: You go ahead. I'll be there in a minute. 

Inside the tables are laid out for a party.

Woman: Here she comes! Here she comes! 

Rose steers Joan into the room. There's a banner on the wall that says "Happy 21st Birthday".

Crowd: Surprise!

Rose: And many happy returns! 

Tom and Sam follow them in. One of the women starts playing the piano. The group all start to clap along and sing:

♪ For she's a jolly good fellow ♪ 

♪ For she's a jolly good fellow ♪ 

♪ For she's a jolly good fellow ♪ 

♪ And so say all of us ♪ 

♪ And so say all of us ♪ 

♪ And so say all of us... ♪

Outside. Foyle sits on a bench in front of the church opposite. The group's singing can be heard in the distance.

♪ For she's a jolly good fellow ♪ 

♪ And so say all of us ♪ 

Barbara approaches Foyle, holding two glasses.

Foyle: Hello. 

Barbara: Brought you this.

Foyle: Well, that's kind of you. 

Barbara: Ginger beer. 

Foyle: Well, thank you. 

Barbara: Best they can do. 

Foyle: That's a nice dress. 

Barbara: D'you think so? 

Foyle: Mmm. 

Barbara: It's silk. From the parachute. 

Foyle: The German's parachute? 

Barbara: I dyed it. I got this one, one for Joan, and six others out of it. 

Foyle: Right. Erm, not badly damaged, then? 

Barbara: Mmm. Barely at all. Looked like a new one. 

Foyle: Right. 

Barbara: Are you going in? 

Foyle: In a moment, yeah. 

She sits down beside him on the bench.

Barbara: Tom proposed, and Joan accepted. 

Foyle: Oh. That's good. 

Barbara: Is it? 

Foyle: Yes. 

Barbara: But for how long? 

Foyle: Well. Things the way they are, good for the time being is perhaps enough. 

They exchange a look. Both are silent for a moment.

Barbara: What happened to you, then? 

Foyle: What happened to me? There was a woman. A marriage. A good marriage. And a beautiful son. My beautiful son is alive, thank God. But, er, I lost my wife. So I have a vastly higher opinion of women than, er, you do of men. 

Barbara: Everything's so very difficult, isn't it? 

Foyle: Yeah. 

Barbara: To Tom and Joan. 

He smiles and raises his glass. They both drink.

Foyle's office. Milner brings in Weiser's things and drops them on the desk in front of Foyle.

Milner: This is all Weiser's kit. 

They pull things out to examine. Foyle studies some of the straps.

Foyle: Flax. Flax stretches under tension. This flax isn't stretched, would you agree? 

Milner: It's pristine. 

Foyle rubs at Weiser's flight suit, then licks his finger.

Foyle: Salt. 

They exchange a look.

POW camp. Weiser is let out into the yard.

Cornwall (offscreen): Leutnant Weiser!

Weiser: Herr Cornwall. 

Cornwall: Wie geht es Ihnen? 

Weiser: Gut, danke. 

Cornwall: Well, I trust you'll be comfortable with the other prisoners. Viel Gluck. 

Foyle, Sam and Milner arrive in the car as Cornwall and Weiser shake hands.

Weiser: Danke schon. 

Foyle gets out of the car.

Foyle: Major, don't let him in there. 

Weiser quickly starts across the yard as Cornwall approaches the fence.

Cornwall: Who the hell do you think you are, barging in like this? 

Foyle: You must not let him in there. He's not who he says he is. He's here to k*ll Sabartovski. 

Weiser looks back at them as the guards let him through another gate. He breaks into a run.

Cornwall (offscreen): Explain yourself. 

Intercut between Foyle at the gate and Weiser running through the grounds.

Foyle: The sort of plane Sabartovski came in needs a crew of three. There were four on board. He's not an airman. He's a technician. He has information valuable enough that the Germans want him d*ad before we get it from him. There's already been one attempt on his life. There's about to be another. We lose him, we lose the information. We've already tried to help you with this and you've resisted. You resist again, you've a lot of explaining to do. 

Cornwall: Open the gate.

Weiser dashes along a corridor.

Outside. Cornwall, Foyle and Milner stride across the yard.

Guard: Right, Corporal, close those gates! 

Weiser enters the bunk rooms.

Outside. Cornwall peaks to a couple of POWs.

Cornwall: Wo ist Sabartovski? 

They shrug.

Bunk room. Weiser spots Schimmel sitting on a bunk. Schimmel stands up.

Weiser: Wo ist er? 

Schimmel is silent, but looks off to the left. Weiser heads off in that direction. There are people calling out his name in the distance as he closes the door to the toilet block and puts the chain on behind him. In one of the cubicles, Sabartovski is fixing the flush mechanism. He looks round and backs away into the corner.

Cornwall (offscreen): Weiser?

Cornwall arrives in the bunk room and spots Schimmel.

Cornwall: Schimmel? 

Schimmel immediately points off after Weiser.

Schimmel: Over there. 

Cornwall heads in that direction as Foyle and Milner arrive after him.

Cornwall: Weiser! 

Toilet block. Weiser is in the process of choking Sabartovski with the toilet chain.

Cornwall rounds a corner.

Cornwall: Weiser! 

He tries to open the door to the toilet block and the chain stops it. Weiser looks up at the noise, but continues choking Sabartovski. Cornwall shouts through the door.

Cornwall: Aufmachen! Halten Sie! 

He rams the door with his shoulder.

Cornwall: Aufmachen! 

He breaks through the door and runs in, followed by Milner and Foyle. He and Milner wrestle Weiser away. Foyle punches him in the gut and then bends to pull the toilet chain away from Sabartovski's throat. Cornwall subdues Weiser with another punch and he and Milner look over at Sabartovski. Foyle slaps his cheek, but it fails to roue him.

Interrogation room. Weiser sits in a chair with his hands cuffed behind him. Cornwall and Foyle stand waiting opposite. Milner enters the room to join them.

Milner: Sabartovski died. A few minutes ago. He never regained consciousness. 

Cornwall: Why was he k*lled? 

Foyle: He was k*lled because he survived the plane crash. As long as the plane flew he was fine. As soon as it didn't, he had to die because he knew too much about what was on it. One of the airmen, erm, died as a result of using a parachute that had been sabotaged. When I explained this to Sabartovski, he became very distressed when he realised it had been intended for him. 

Cornwall: Why would he tell you this? 

Foyle: He didn't. He told Schimmel. 

Cornwall: In English? 

Foyle: In German. 

Flashback to Sabartovski and Schimmel talking.

Sabartovski: Der defekte Fallschirm w*r fur mich gemeint. 

Schimmel: Wovon sprechen Sie, denn? 

Sabartovski: Ich weiss zu viel uber das Funkmessegerat. 

Schimmel: Seien Sie still! 

Sabartovski: Sie wollten das ich dass nicht überlebe. Sie haben mir den defekten Fallschirm gegeben, nur hatte Kraus ihn bekomme.

Schimmel: Verdammt! Seien Sie still. 

Interrogation room.

Foyle: He said that they hadn't wanted him to survive any crash, so he'd been issued with a defective parachute which Kraus had picked up by mistake. 

Cornwall: Why didn't you tell me you speak German? 

Foyle: Well, frankly, major, there became less and less point in telling you anything, and it's only, er, whatever I managed to pick up in Germany during the last w*r. It's not that good. Well, it's as good as his English. 

Cornwall: No, he doesn't speak English at all.

Foyle looks at Weiser.

Foyle: You're fairly fluent, aren't you? You understood, er, one of my questions without it being translated when I came over here last time. And you understood every word we said, er, when we first picked you up. 

Flashback to Weiser being lowered down from the tree.

Foyle (voiceover): You heard us talking about, er, the woman that was with us that day being a possible m*rder suspect, and you described her later as the, er, person you claim took your g*n, er, when you were hanging from the tree. 

Weiser (voiceover): Blondes Haar, und attraktiv. 

Interrogation room.

Cornwall: What information did Sabartovski have that was so important? 

Foyle: He-

He looks over at Weiser.

Foyle: D'you want to answer that question? No? It seems from what he said to Schimmel that he was, er, an expert in RDF, what you'd know as Funkmess or radar.

Flashback to the crew aboard the plane.

Foyle (voiceover): And it looked like there'd been perhaps a new system onboard, er, which is why they tried to get back to it. To make sure it was destroyed, or get rid of it if it wasn't. 

Interrogation room. Foyle looks at Weiser.

Foyle: How am I doing? He was sent for the same reason. To, erm, make sure the equipment was destroyed and Sabartovski as well. And, er, he came prepared to fake a situation in which he'd be caught, and most likely taken to the same holding camp as Sabartovski, and, erm, get rid of him here. 

Weiser: If I faked the parachute drop, how did I get here? 

Foyle: Ooh. Perfect English. 

Weiser snorts in amusement.

Foyle: Boat. There were saltwater stains on your trousers. And, er, no marks at all from a parachute and a harness that had never been used before. 

Weiser: Good. 

He laughs.

Weiser: Beach landing from a U-boat. 

Foyle: Oh. We know why you k*lled Sabartovski. What we don't know is why you k*lled the farmer. 

Weiser: How do you know I did? 

Flashback to Weiser riding a bicycle towards the farm.

Foyle (voiceover): You were seen arriving at the farm. 

He bumps into Barbara going the other way.

Foyle (voiceover): You came up from the coast by bike to the area where the plane came down. 

Weiser sees a lorry approaching the ford, and wheels the bike away to duck down out of sight.

Foyle (voiceover): But there was so much going on that night you were afraid you were going to be found out. You gave up the idea of tracing the plane. You dumped the bike. 

Weiser throws the bike into the water.

Later. Weiser is now dressed up in his parachute gear.

Foyle (voiceover): And found somewhere to deploy the fake parachute drop. 

Weiser shakes the parachute open. On the bank opposite, Hugh Jackson stands up with his whiskey bottle.

Foyle (voiceover): Except Hugh Jackson saw you. 

Weiser: Hello?

Jackson drops the bottle and claps his hands over his mouth.

Weiser: Hello?

Flashback to Weiser entering the farmhouse sitting room.

Foyle (voiceover): You got to the farmhouse as he was putting through a call. 

Jackson is dialling the phone, but puts it down as Weiser enters.

Foyle (voiceover): You sh*t him. 

Weiser sh**t Jackson and he falls back into the chair.

Foyle (voiceover): And replaced the telephone receiver. 

Weiser puts the receiver back in the cradle.

Foyle (voiceover): A man who'd drunk that much might have been thought to have k*lled himself, so you used his g*n to fake the su1c1de. 

Weiser sh**t Jackson in the chest with the g*n.

Cut to Weiser leaving the farmhouse.

Foyle (voiceover): You left the farmhouse, and made your next mistake. You tried to get rid of the g*n.

Weiser drops the Luger into a woodpile and runs.

Interrogation room.

Weiser: Yes. That was a mistake. 

Foyle: So we know you did it. It's just a question of why. Perhaps being spotted faking the parachute drop didn't suit your purposes so you had to destroy the witness. Why else would you do it? 

Weiser: He was English. 

Cornwall: You'll hang for this. 

Outside. Cornwall and Foyle walk through the yard of the POW camp together.

Cornwall: I owe you an apology, Detective Chief Superintendent. I feel I've let the side down. 

Foyle: Well... 

Cornwall: I've always tried to see the best in people. And we've had good results with the prisoners. Quite a number have, er, already opened up to us. You see, I spent a year at university in Heidelberg before the w*r. I always found the Germans to be a civilised and gracious race. 

Foyle: Ah. You ever play football against them? 

Cornwall: Football? No. Cricket's my game. There's a disappointing dearth of cricket pitches in Heidelberg. 

Foyle: I was in a police team that, erm, played in Germany in '36. Er, the German team that met us were very smart, hospitable. Very gracious. Very civilised. Er, wonderful night. They wined and dined us and, er, we all left the bierkeller at dawn, and we staggered onto the pitch later that day, er, badly hungover. Erm, but the German team that ran on to play us were eleven totally different men, who'd, er, been in bed before ten, not touched a drop and we got a complete stuffing. They use different rules. Er, but if we don't want to lose this w*r I think, er, first of all we've even got to be sure about what game they're playing. And you're right. It's not cricket. 

He walks away.

Jackson farm. Sam walks out of the farmhouse, followed by the two land girls.

Sam: No "For Sale" signs? 

Rose: After all the work we put into the place? 

Foyle and Tom follows them out.

Joan: Now when it needs to support our increasing family?

She pats Rose's belly.

Rose: Come on! Work to do. 

Joan: See you, Sam. 

Sam: Joanie. 

Sam gives her a salute before heading back to the car.

Foyle: Excuse me. Any of you seen, erm, Barbara Hicks? She's not been seen at the hostel. 

Tom: Ah. I totally forgot. Yeah. She passed by yesterday. 

He pulls an envelope out of his pocket.

Tom: She's moved on to a new area. Official secret. Left this for you. 

Foyle takes the note.

Foyle: Right. 

Tom: All right. 

Foyle: Thank you. 

The car drives over the ford. In the front seat, Foyle opens the envelope to read Barbara's note.

Barbara (voiceover): I've been moved on. I can't say where, but I'm sorry. I didn't think my view of men could change. But you changed it. Barbara. 

Foyle sighs.

The car continues driving away from the farm.
{"type": "series", "show": "Foyle's War", "episode": "03x03 - They Fought In the Fields"}